Tag: family

Alana Lorens: Strong women and why I write them

1911

Alana Lorens
My grandmother and her kitty

As a romance (and also sci-fi/fantasy) writer, one of my goals is always to have a strong woman as a central character. Why is this? They’re more interesting. They have more resources, mentally and physically. They’re just more fun to write!

My mentor and best example of a strong woman is my grandmother, Mildred Moore Ogle. Today would be her 109th birthday. Born in 1911, when strong women were discouraged, she grew up in Indiana farmland, daughter of a well-to-do family. She was the only girl child; her two brothers were educated well, as was the custom of the day. She didn’t get to go to college.

Her brothers went on to join the military. Jim would become a decorated Navy veteran who survived Pearl Harbor. Paul was captured by the Japanese and died as a prisoner of war. That left her as the one who stayed home, doing what women did at the time, learning to care for a home and family.

She inherited the family home in Bunker Hill, Indiana, an old brick two-story that was a homestead farm established by her parents in 1883. She married a man who’d worked in a bakery, but gave up his job to come live with her and learned to run the farm. He may have worn the overalls, but for those of us who saw their relationship later, I’d definitely say she wore the pants.

They had two children, one of whom was my mother. My grandmother

My square-dancing grandparents

proved to be too strong for my mother, and she spent her life trying to avoid contact. Her son, on the other hand, did his Navy service, then returned to the area with his family. They grew up close to my grandmother and experienced her strength, as my grandfather passed, and she continued running the farm business on her own, keeping it a success even through the difficult economy years.

As for me, and my three sisters, we grew up with our fathers. This provided the opportunity to visit with my grandmother, who we called Maudie, after she came to take care of us during a mumps infection blitz. She said, “Just call me Maude the maid,” and it stuck. Over the years, she came to be the woman who filled our need for female mentorship. She really tried to make sure we had the “family” influence in our lives.

Zinnias–my grandmother’s flower

She succeeded. We wanted to be like her. To this day, we all try to cultivate zinnias, because of the gardens she grew. We admire and collect Fiestaware because that’s what she served her home cooked meals on. We eat rhubarb and rice and raisins because that made us feel loved at her table.

The woman with a spine of steel and limitless determination lived to the age of 93, and she continues to inspire us. Let’s celebrate the strong women we know and we write about! We owe them the world. Who’s your favorite strong woman, real-life or fictional?

BIO:
Alana LorensAlana Lorens has been a published writer for more than forty years. Currently a resident of Asheville, North Carolina, she loves her time in the smoky blue mountains. One of her novellas, THAT GIRL’S THE ONE I LOVE, is set in the city of Asheville during the old Bele Chere festival. She lives with her daughter, who is the youngest of her seven children, two crotchety old cats, and five kittens of various ages.

ROMANCE/suspense Alana Lorens

Website  https://wordpress.com/page/alana-lorens.com/21
Facebook  https://www.facebook.com/AlanaLorens/
Goodreads   https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4829967.Alana_Lorens

Amazon Author Page  https://www.amazon.com/Alana-Lorens/e/B005GE0WBC/ref=dp_byline_cont_ebooks_1

SCI-FI/ fantasy Lyndi Alexander

Website https://lyndialexander.wordpress.com/
Facebook https://www.facebook.com/lyndialexander13/
Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4185290.Lyndi_Alexander

Amazon Author Page https://www.amazon.com/Lyndi-Alexander/e/B005GDYPU2/ref=dp_byline_cont_ebooks_1

Bookbub https://www.bookbub.com/profile/lyndi-alexander

A mysterious proposition—Jan Selbourne #MFRWHooks

This is a blog hop. Be sure to check the link at the bottom to see posts from other authors!

The Proposition by Jan Selbourne

The Proposition
Blurb:
They met on the eve of a battle. One enlisted to avoid prison, the other enlisted to avoid the money lenders. On the bloodied fields of France, Harry Connelly collapses beside the corpse of Andrew Conroy. It is a risk, a hanging offence, it’s his only hope for a future. Harry swaps identity discs.

Now Andrew, he is just another face in post war London until a letter arrives with a proposition. Accepting is out of the question, refusing pushes him into a nightmare of greed, blackmail and murder. To survive he must live this lie without a mistake, until Lacey, her secrets and the truth.

Buy link:
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MFRW Book Hooks

Excerpt:
“Excuse me, call of nature.”

The niggling coil of unease had been growing and now, as Andrew watched the dining room door close behind Elliot, his instincts were jabbing at hm. His host had been charming and hospitable. Last night, after a delicious dinner at Browns Hotel, they’d touched on their family connection, unsure of what to say without offending the other. Elliot had twirled his glass between his fingers. “My grandparents made a lot of money from the textile industry, my father sold seventy percent of those businesses and invested in other profitable enterprises. To put it simply, he was a very astute, successful businessman, but I’m afraid he was not a good husband and father. He cared little for us and it distresses me that he cared even less for you and your mother.”

Today, Elliot had proudly introduced him to his pride and joy, a dark grey Austin-20hp, motoring smoothly out of London and onto the soft Essex countryside. When they’d stopped at Thaxted’s Swan Inn for lunch, Elliot had commented, “Every spare acre in Essex has been growing vegetables, doing their bit for the war effort and rationing.” When they continued on to Saffron Walden, he’d pointed to his left, “Railway station, a branch line from Audley End. Made a big difference to this town.”

They’d stopped briefly in High Street, then through the marketplace, bumping over cobblestones to a wider road and finally stopping at the entrance of a large Victorian house. He’d been shown to his room overlooking the rear of the house with its garden rows of vegetables. Elliot had apologized again, business to attend to and please make himself at home. Not used to the substantial meals, he’d slept until five pm. At seven pm, he’d joined Elliot in the dining room where silver serving dishes containing roast beef, baked potatoes and green vegetables sat on spirit warmers.

“Very informal this evening,” Elliot had said breezily. “I asked my daily help to prepare something easy for us, so please, help yourself.”

The only time his host’s friendliness disappeared was when the daily help tapped on the door to tell him she’d answered the phone and left the message on the phone pad.

Something was very wrong, or perhaps he was too jumpy from living on this tight rope of lies. The door opened again.

“Much more comfortable,” Elliot grinned and sat down. “More wine?”

“No thank you, I might not be able to climb the stairs, but I must thank you for another very pleasant evening.”

Elliot’s grin disappeared. “It’s time to discuss the business proposition which will give us both what we want.”

“I confess I was intrigued when I received your letter,” Andrew replied guardedly.

“You will perform a service and if that service is completed satisfactorily, I will pay you three hundred pounds and pay your outstanding debts.”

Andrew went perfectly still. “Perform a service?”

“You will impregnate the woman I married.”

Jan:
Jan Selbourne was born and educated in Melbourne, Australia and her love of literature and history began as soon as she learned to read and hold a pen. After graduating from a Melbourne Business College her career began in the dusty world of ledgers and accounting, working in Victoria, Queensland and the United Kingdom. On the point of retiring, she changed course to work as secretary of a large NSW historical society. Now retired Jan is enjoying her love of travelling and literature. She has two children, a stray live in cat and lives near Maitland, New South Wales.

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Nostalgia, in a time when we need it! Jan Selbourne

Reading Dee’s blog post, Making Changes, made me smile. It  took me back a LONG time, to when I was a young kid.

Jan Selbourne's dad
My dad, digging stump holes. Our Collie dog Sandy would drop his ball into the hole, wait for dad to throw it, and off he’d go to fetch and bring it back – again and again.

My parents had scraped up just enough money to buy a block of land in a country town east of Melbourne, Victoria. There was one main road through the town and our road was unsealed. Dust in the summer, mud in the winter. Our block sloped steeply back from the road with plenty of ti-trees and eucalyptus trees at the bottom. The plan was to live in a small fibro bungalow while my parents and older brother Don built the house. A small loan from a building society and that’s what they did, starting with a thick carpentry how to do it book, basic tools and now I look back, a lot of courage.

Electricity wasn’t connected until the house was built, so we lit ‘Tilly” lamps at night, we had a wood burning stove for cooking and heating water for a bath, which incidentally was a galvanised iron tub in the kitchen. We had an ice chest to keep food cold, the ice truck delivered blocks of ice weekly in winter, twice weekly in summer. The ice-man wore thick leather gloves and a thick leather shoulder pad. He hooked his pick into a block of ice, up onto his shoulder and with a curt g’day to mum, carried it into the house to deposit it into the chest. No time to talk, especially in summer.

At the back of the bungalow was the outhouse – the “dunny”. The ‘nightmen’ in their truck collected the full pan twice a week, replacing it with a clean pan reeking of the eye-watering strong disinfectant Phenyl. To this day, the smell of Phenyl reminds me of the dunny and country railway toilets.

It was a very bushy area, plenty of blue tongue lizards, a lot of native birds, especially bell birds, and thankfully we didn’t see any snakes. I clearly remember a swagman camped at the bottom of our block because there was a small creek and plenty of open land beyond. Mum made sure he was okay and didn’t need anything. He’d light his fire, cook his food and boil his billy, and a few days later he moved on.

The floor plan for our new house was laid out on the ground with wood stakes and string. Armed with shovels, my dad and my brother Don dug every stump hole by hand. In went the redgum wooden stumps. Then the flooring joists. My job was to help paint the weatherboards with pink primer, which I did until my hands ached. Up went the house, bit by bit, because dad and Don worked weekdays. Then the inspection by the municipal building inspector. Was the house built to satisfactory standards? Yes, it received a big tick. Time for the tradies – the plumber, the roof tiler and the electrician. And – at last – we were able to move in. My brother had his own bedroom. I had my own bedroom. Mum had an electric stove. And we had a real bathroom with an inside toilet! But we kept the ice chest, what money was left didn’t stretch to a refrigerator. We now see ice chests in museums but believe me, they are as almost as efficient as a fridge – minus the freezer.

Looking back, it was a perfect life for kids. Sure we walked the mile or more to school and back every day, in the rain or the summer heat, so did all the other kids. There were no luxuries but we had a lot of fun and the best games playing in the bush at the back of the block. I admit I had it easy compared to my brother who was nine years older than me, but that four inch paint brush and endless weatherboards was hard work!

I can still see that carpentry book, and the spirit level, dad used it while digging the stump holes and the floor joists. Heck, a book and a spirit level, dogged determination and hard work built a house…

Jan SelbourneJan Selbourne was born and educated in Melbourne, Australia and her love of literature and history began as soon as she learned to read and hold a pen. After graduating from a Melbourne Business College her career began in the dusty world of ledgers and accounting, working in Victoria, Queensland and the United Kingdom. On the point of retiring, she changed course to work as secretary of a large NSW historical society. Now retired Jan is enjoying her love of travelling and literature. She has two children, a stray live in cat and lives near Maitland, New South Wales.

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Look, Mom! I won! #MFRWauthor

Lottery!Ah! Winning the lottery Who doesn’t dream of this happening? I’ve dreamed of it so often, for years I considered it my Retirement Plan. No. Really.

But then again, I’m already retired and have I won the lottery? Heck no. Good thing I kept my day job.

Still, it’s fun to play “What if…?” I know a few things I would do, for sure.

  • Take the money in a lump sum. None of this doling out the funds year by year. No one knows how much time they have left, and if I get called to heaven sooner than I think I will, I want to have enjoyed every single cent I can before I go.
  • Pay off all my debts. Not that there are all that many, but I’d like not to have to worry about owing anyone. That way I can lay on that beach with nothing niggling at the back of my mind. “Did I pay the mortgage this month?” “Do I have anything left on the student loan?” “Have I paid the pool boy his monthly stipend?” Nope. Don’t want any of that on my mind.
  • Gift those I love and who have loved me all these years. I’d give my mom and aunt anything their little heart’s desire. Ditto for my wonderful in-laws. And my friends—I have a few who could really use some help. One dear friend has a son with autism, and another has a brother in the same boat. I’d like for them not to have to worry about their loved one’s futures.
  • Donate to my favorite charities. Shriners Hospitals would get a big donation, as would several other places. If I have it, I want to share it.
  • Go back to Scotland. It’s one of the places I’d like to visit again and Piper in Scotlandshow it off to Jack. Scotland is one of my favorite places on earth.
  • Buy books. If I have anything left after all that, I’d buy as many books as I want.Yippee!

When we buy lottery tickets—which is not all that often—we buy only one. Don’t have particular numbers, don’t say a prayer beforehand or go through any special rituals. I figure if God wants me to win the lottery, one ticket will be enough, and it won’t matter which numbers I choose. If God doesn’t want me to win (and so far, not that I doubt His wisdom, but I do think it’s an oversight on His part), it won’t matter if I buy a thousand tickets or use the birth date of the Archangel Michael for the numbers. So far, God has seen fit to keep me humble…and poor. Oh well. Life is still good.

What would you do with lottery winnings?
.
Read the next blog in the blog hop by going here.

Dee
Burning Bridges by Anne Krist: old letters put the lie to Sara’s life. Now, mending her past mistakes while crossing burning bridges will be the hardest thing she’s ever done.

One Woman Only
Only a Good Man Will Do
Naval Maneuvers

The political climate #MFRWauthor

DisagreementsNo one who lives in the U.S. can be unaware of our current toxic political climate. It’s gotten to the point where people can be attacked for the hat they wear, or an argument can occur between strangers over a candidate’s plan for health care. Know what it is? It’s ridiculous, is what it is. When did we stop being a country where people could disagree without fear of fistfights? When did people stop mattering less than being “right?”

I admit, I’ve gotten to the age where I don’t care as much what other folks think of me. But even I wouldn’t go outside the house wearing a red ballcap—even if it was just a red ball cap and carried no message. Discuss politics? I wouldn’t mention it to a stranger. In the past, politics might bring on a few sneers or a dismissal, or a spirited discussion. Today, a disagreement over our government can land you in the hospital.

However…when it comes to family, I share my thoughts.

My parents were always a little more conservative than my grandparents. American politicsMom and Dad usually voted for the candidate who supported the military more. My grandmother was a die-hard Democrat, a union steward in the plant where she worked, and had strong opinions she would voice anywhere about who should be running things. Contrary to most of my contemporaries who grew up during the Vietnam War, I leaned more toward my parents’ views than the revolutionaries’. Now, my mom leans more toward her mother—less conservative and more progressive. Do we battle it out during phone calls? Yes. Do we still love each other? YES! We’re family and we love each other despite any comments about the elections.

I wish everyone were more that way. Share your opinions, go home as friends. As it is, I discuss politics with my family, but not with friends. I value my friendships much more than I value making a point over something I have little control over anyway.

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

Dee
Burning Bridges by Anne Krist: old letters put the lie to Sara’s life. Now, mending her past mistakes while crossing burning bridges will be the hardest thing she’s ever done.

One Woman Only
Only a Good Man Will Do
Naval Maneuvers

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Folds of Honor: Charity Sunday

Charity SundayHow Charity Sunday works: for every comment made on this blog post, I will donate money to the charity named. The same promise is made for every blog site listed in the group–click the Linky Links link at the bottom of this post to see the list of participants and read/comment on any of them to see a donation go to that blogger’s charity. We’re all different! Thanks for your help and your participation!

This month’s charity is Folds of Honor. The mission of Folds of Honor is: “To provide educational scholarships to spouses and children of America’s fallen and disabled service-members. … Honor their sacrifice. Educate their legacy.” So this charity helps two ways that are near and dear to my heart—it helps give people who need the boost an education they might not be able to afford, and it honors those who have given much. Please comment!

Folds of Honor

I wrote Burning Bridges as Anne Krist. It’s not an erotic romance, but it’s a book full of emotion and is a true love story. The hero, Paul Steinert, is in the Navy and about to ship out for Vietnam when he first meets Sara Noland. Perhaps his child could have benefited from Folds of Honor!

Excerpt:

Virginia Beach, Virginia – January, 1970

“Of all days to debate about whether to wear the short skirt or the shorter one,” Sara wailed to her best friend, Cindy. “We’ll be lucky if we aren’t late.”

The blue Volkswagen Beetle sped down the highway. Or as fast as it could speed, with the tiny engine pushing from the rear, and Sara having to shift gears so often because of traffic and lights. She huffed in frustration.

“Oh, we have plenty of time. I had to make sure I looked just right. You never know who we’ll see,” Cindy replied with her usual assurance.

“I hope you’re right.”

“You worry, Sara, and things always turn out okay. Just keep your mind on driving and we’ll be fine.” Cindy clasped her hands and shrieked with excitement. “I can’t believe our parents bought us tickets to see Michael Wales!”

That brought a real smile to Sara’s face. “I know! Our parents are the best.”

She flicked a knob on the radio as she veered into the parking lot, silencing Neil Diamond’s “Holly Holy.”

“See? I told you. You worry too much. We’re here with a good ten minutes to spare.” Cindy flipped her straight blonde hair over her shoulder. She turned the rearview mirror toward her and applied a fresh coating of lip gloss.

“We’re only ‘here’ if I can find a place to park.” Sara maneuvered her little car up one aisle and down another, until finally, “Good! There’s one.” Before she could get to the space, a sleek, red Corvette swung in.

“Oh, no! That was our space,” Cindy cried.

Two men unfolded themselves from the little sports car, the driver with olive skin and hair as dark as the passenger’s was golden. The men started toward the building. Suddenly, the passenger looked at Sara and then back at the space.

The low-hanging sun framed him, a fair giant with short hair and the physique of a warrior. For a brief moment, Sara pictured him with sword and shield at the helm of a Norse sailing vessel. Her heart fluttered and her breath caught. Then she brought herself under control.

The girls watched as he talked to the dark-haired man and gestured to them. The driver looked around then shook his head before continuing toward the building. The blond shrugged apologetically at Sara and followed his friend.

“Shoot! I thought maybe he would have a heart.” Sara eased off the clutch and started forward again.

“They were cute.” Cindy swerved in her seat to watch the men as they picked their way through the parked cars. “I wonder what the chances are of seeing them–”

A piercing whistle cut through Cindy’s words. “Stop, Sara! The blond guy is waving at us.”

Sara turned to look behind them. The blond man was indeed waving, gesturing for her to come toward him. “What does he want?” she muttered. Deciding to ignore him, she drove on, turning to the right.

He whistled again.

“He wants you to pull around there. He’s still waving.”

“Oh, all right,” Sara grumbled. “But make sure your door is locked, Cindy. And don’t roll your window down.”

Cindy laughed. “You sound like my mother. What do you think is going to happen right here in the parking lot?”

Sara managed a U-turn and drove to where the man stood. Rolling her window down an inch, she said loudly, “What is it?”

He bent down to peer through the glass at her, a lopsided grin on his face. Good Lord, he was cute. Muscled shoulders and arms, angular, strong features, hair a rich blond, and dark, sapphire-blue eyes.

“Oh, my heavens,” she heard Cindy say under her breath.

For once, Sara understood her friend’s meaning. His grin made her stomach do flip-flops and her palms sweat.

“I don’t bite,” he said around a chuckle, motioning to the almost closed window. “I just wanted to tell you, there’s a place right over there. I think you can squeeze your Bug into it.” He turned and pointed at a half space at the end of the aisle, a couple of cars away.

Flashing him a look of gratitude, she put the little car in gear and pulled into the spot. The tall, handsome stranger followed.

When Sara turned off the engine, the guy opened the door for Cindy and held out his hand to assist her. Out of nowhere, a sharp pang of jealousy struck Sara. Its intensity and suddenness disturbed her. After all, she didn’t know this man; what difference did it make if he and Cindy hit it off?

By the time she collected her purse, stepped out and made sure the doors were locked, Cindy and the mystery man were like old friends. Again she felt the Green Monster strike, and gave a mental shake to rid herself of its clutches.

“Sara,” Cindy said, smiling dreamily at the tall man, “this is Paul Steinert. Wasn’t he just wonderful, finding us this space?” She tittered.

It was all Sara could manage, not to gape. Cindy always flirted but tittering was something new.

“Paul, this is my best friend, Sara Noland.”

Paul smiled and held out his hand. “Hello, Sara. I’m sorry about the other space. This one is closer to the door, though.”

She locked gazes with him and her tongue twisted in her mouth. Surges of heat flew through her body. If his smile had that effect, what would his touch do to her? Something wonderful.

No, something forbidden.

Buy or Read for free on KU

About me:

A few years ago, Dee S. Knight began writing, making getting up in the morning fun. During the day, her characters killed people, fell in love, became drunk with power, or sober with responsibility. And they had sex, lots of sex. She is the primary persona of three pen names—triplets, if you will: Dee, Anne Krist, and Jenna Stewart.

As noted above, Dee S. Knight writes erotic romance—emphasis on the romance! She was part of an anthology named a Top Pick in Romantic Times magazine (Resolutions) and the sole author of another Top Pick designation, for the paranormal erotic romance, Passionate Destiny.

“Sister” Anne Krist does not write erotic romance. Her book, Burning Bridges, has received high praise and multiple 5-star reviews because of the depth of the romance and emotion. Burning Bridges is Anne’s first book but she has a series planned that she hopes to have out soon.

Third of the triplets is Jenna Stewart. Jenna has tried her hand at ménage—in both historical and shifter books. She wrote the Sisters O’Ryan series set during the westward migration in the U.S., the Great Wolves of Men-Edge, and Unlikely Bedfellows.

Regardless of the name she uses to write during the day, their dream man, childhood sweetheart, and long-time hubby are all the same guy. What happens during their nights are their secret.

For romance ranging from sweet to historical, contemporary to paranormal and more join the girls on Nomad Authors. Sign up for Dee’s newsletter with Jan Selbourne and have access to fun free reads. Also, once a month, look for Charity Sunday blog posts, where your comment can support a selected charity.

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Click here  to see the list of other authors participating in today’s blog hop! I hope you’ll visit them too, to find out about the charities they are supporting.

Holidays—oh, joy! (And I really mean that!) #MFRWauthor

Lower the stress at the holidaysI know many people bemoan the work that goes into hosting or visiting family at the holidays, but I am not one of them, except in one respect. First, about my family holidays.

I have a relatively small family. Jack and I have no kids, and neither does his brother. My mom and her twin sister have no other siblings, and my aunt had just two children while Mom had only me. My two cousins live in Texas and Ethiopia. Even when they both lived here in the States, we rarely saw each other, as my dad was in the Navy and my uncle was in the Air Force, neither stationed near the other throughout their careers. Jack’s parents are gone now, so our immediate family consists of my mom and aunt, and Jack’s brother and wife—six of us. Unfortunately, none of us lives close to the others.

Years ago, Jack’s brother and sister-in-law lived in Richmond, Virginia, and we lived fifty miles away, three doors down from his parents. In those days, we rotated holidays, Thanksgiving at one house, Christmas at another, each bringing dishes to relieve the pressure. At that time, my mom and aunt lived in Dallas, Texas. Every other year, Jack and I used our Christmas break from the school where we worked and Jack’s parents’ camper to make the trek to Dallas in order to spend the holidays with The Twins and my aunt’s children. I say all this to better explain my pros and cons of family holidays.

  • PRO: Being with family—when you act like family—is Holiday stresswonderful! I understand how that might not be so if there is too much selfishness and too little care evident. That is if folks don’t get together to share the joys of the season and instead make it obvious that the day is about them and not everyone else. Believe me, I have been at family events where there is too much drinking or arguments spring up or one person is expected to do all the work. No fun. Not like family. If this is your situation, you might have to work harder at enjoying the holiday, but it can still be done.
  • PRO: You know that being with family is wonderful the most, when you can no longer be with family. Our Aussie friend, Jan, almost never gets to share holidays with her newly-minted American daughter because Jeanette lives here in the States and Jan is in New South Wales, Australia. My mom and aunt, and brother- and sister-in-law are all too far away for us to see each other often, much less at the holidays. And Jack’s parents, two of the most wonderful people ever, have been dead for many years. I would give a lot for all of us to share a holiday together again!
  • PRO: Being with loved ones, especially at holiday time, gives us a chance to catch up with the news, with how Photoslarge the kids have grown, with how each of us is getting more frail in our own ways or stronger. It gives us a chance to laugh with one another and maybe to cry, while sharing the load of what makes us cry. It provides a chance for photos with sparkly backgrounds, that we can examine later and smile over.
  • CON: Travel is so often a mess. Nothing puts the strain on a holiday like canceled flights, bad weather, and Holiday weather and travelsnarled traffic. This is the number one reason why no one in our family gets together on holidays—it’s too darn much trouble.

I miss our family holidays horribly, and more so the older I get. I remember the rolls that were forgotten on the counter, the dishes for dinner that didn’t turn out as we’d hoped and the ones that were great successes. I remember opening gifts after a sweet roll and coffee, and sharing with everyone what we received. I remember sitting and chatting with Mom after the dishes were done, and the sounds of football coming from the other room. And I remember most the laughter and love we shared.

As we go into the holiday season, my your holidays be filled with love and laughter, too!

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

Dee
Mystic Desire: A collection of supernatural tales sure to keep you up at night, peering into the shadows! Or just wide awake, reading.
Only a Good Man Will Do
Naval Maneuvers

An Understanding Family #MFRWauthor

I have struggled today to think of what only my family understands about me and I have to say, I couldn’t think of a thing. I mean, I’m kind of an open book. I asked hubby and even my mom and they thought the same—nope, what you see with Dee is what you get. Nothing special to understand there. I’m not sure if I’m pleased or ticked, but it is what it is. Still, my husband Jack is in a position to fit this topic.

Where I had polio as a baby, Jack had dyslexia. Two very different problems but both crippling in their own ways. With polio, I grew up having surgeries, limping, and wearing braces. My difficulties were easy to see. People quickly made my way easier because my problems were clear. Jack, on the other hand, suffered under the opposite perspective.

When we were in school, dyslexia wasn’t recognized as a learning difficulty. If you couldn’t read it was because you weren’t trying hard enough, you Dyslexiaweren’t reading enough, you were lazy or stupid. Jack’s teachers said as much about him in his classes. His problem was not plain to anyone looking at him. He looked sweet as an angel, but normal. Without some physical sign, there was nothing wrong. At least, that’s what people thought. So while I was given a pass for not being able to run, Jack was not given a pass for not being able to read.

That brings me to the topic of our blog post. No one but Jack’s family—and most particular, his mother—understood how hard he tried to do the things his teachers asked of him. Only his family knew the extra hours he put in studying, how lost he felt when he didn’t understand why he didn’t see theLearning disability same things the other kids did, or how much hurt he bottled up inside. His mom tried so hard to help him but didn’t know exactly what to do to make things better. Later, she gained her master’s degree in education with a specialty in reading so she could help other kids with Jack’s problem, so some good came of his hard time growing up. And as his family now, only I truly understand his pride in finishing his degree summa cum laude. It was a huge accomplishment and I’m so proud of him.

All of his feelings about school were impossible to explain to friends. Beyond his actual physical disability, years of trying and failing to succeed at schooling takes a psychological toll, too. But that’s what family is for, right? To support and be there when no one else understands what’s going on in your life?

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

Dee
Only a Good Man Will Do: Seriously ambitious man seeks woman to encourage his goals, support his (hopeful) position as Headmaster of Westover Academy, and be purer than Caesar’s wife. Good luck with that!

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!

A little love, a little magic: The Christmas Ballet

Welcome Constance Bretes and The Christmas Ballet!

The Christmas Ballet
By Constance Bretes

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About The Christmas Ballet:

Laura Hemmingway cut herself off from men and her family when the man she loved married her sister. She moved across the country and was doing just fine until she received a devastating call to return to New York. She had to face the death of her sister, her sister’s little girl, Maria, and Maria’s father, Stefan—the man she had once loved. She figured she would pay her respects and leave as soon as possible. She never anticipated on the beautiful little girl stealing her heart. And she never expected that seeing Stefan again after twelve years would stir up old feelings.

 Stefan’s life was complete. He had a successful career as an attorney, a beautiful wife and an adorable six-year-old daughter. Although he and his wife had been married in name only for the past several years, he cared for her deeply. Then her unexpected death brought him face-to-face with his former lover, and the guilt he’d carried for years.

Stefan is still in love with Laura and wants to give her everything she deserves. He and Maria are racing against time to convince Laura to stay with them in New York.

 Can a little girl’s love, and the true magic of Christmas, help Stefan convince Laura to stay and give their relationship another chance?

 Content Warning: contains some sexual content
Genre – Contemporary Romance
Heat Level – Hot

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Excerpt from The Christmas Ballet:

He smiled as he thought about the look on her face when he’d stroked her. Maybe she was more interested in him than she either believed or cared to be.

Then he thought of something. “One more thing, Laura,” he called out to her, and she stopped at the door and turned around.

“On the nineteenth, the law firm is hosting the annual Christmas party. It’s quite grand and lasts all evening long.”

“You want me to be sure to be available to babysit Maria,” Laura said.

“No. I want you to plan to come with me.”

“What?”

“Remember that beautiful, green, velvet dress we saw at Macy’s? I want you to get that dress, and the accessories to go with it, and attend the party with me.”

“Stefan, really. You know I don’t go to those types of events, and I don’t wear those kinds of clothes. I’m not comfortable with either of those things.”

“You need to get comfortable.” He smiled.

“This is not a part of a job for the nanny and teacher. It’s out of the range of the job description. You need to get Ginger to go with you. I’m not going.” She gave him a defiant look.

“Laura, I want to take you to this event. I’m not taking no for an answer. I will arrange for Rhonda to take you shopping to help you get what you need. You will charge all the purchases to a credit card I will give you that’s for your use only. This is the first of many social parties you will be attending.”

He watched her as she clenched her hands into fists and released them.

“Who do you think you will get to care for Maria on these…occasions?”

“Usually Lillian is available.”

“Stefan, it’s my job to care for Maria, not be your date to your parties. I don’t like being told what I will or won’t do. I don’t like social parties, and I don’t like wearing expensive clothes. It’s not me, and you’re not going to change me.”

“I don’t want to change you. I want you to attend an event by my side. It won’t hurt you to have some beautiful clothing to show your feminine side. I want the world to see the beauty I see. Be glad I want to show you off. Some men might decide they don’t want others to see what they see.”

“Flattery doesn’t work with me. You can tell me what to do as far as Maria is concerned, but my personal life is off limits to you.”

“That’s good to know. At least I know you won’t get carried away and escape my grasp by someone making flattering remarks to you. Your personal life interests me.”

“Stefan, you just don’t get it. I am not going to this party,” she said, enunciating each word slowly and carefully. “Besides, your mother would be horrified to see me walk in with you.” Her face hardened as she stared at him.

“Look at it this way—you’d be doing me a big favor.”

“How?” She raised an eyebrow.

“I’m not interested in the other women that come to this social party looking for an eligible bachelor. With you on my arm, it would send a clear message to all the others that I’m taken.”

“God, you’re impossible. Ginger is more than capable of providing you that kind of service.”

“I don’t want Ginger. You have the grace, quiet beauty, and finesse I want in a date, and I will not take no for an answer. After Maria’s recital, you and Rhonda will set a shopping date. And one more thing. When you get your hair done, I’d like you to wear it down.” He smiled at her.

“This is not going to happen.” She put her hands on her hips and glared at him.

“It will. I’ll just have Maria work on you.” He eyed her.

“What?”

Stefan grinned. “You heard me. You’d never turn down anything from Maria.”

“Grrrr.” She growled and stomped up the stairs.

He laced his hands and put them behind his head. Oh yeah, it’ll be a night she’ll never forget.

About the Author:
Constance Bretes is an author of contemporary romance and suspense. Her romance books are often set in different parts of the country, but her favorite site is Montana. She retired from the State of Michigan after 38-plus years of service and now writes and researches full time. She is married to her best friend and has recently moved from Montana to Alabama. Her hobbies include basket weaving, sapphire digging, and checking out old ghost towns.

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Top five things I’m grateful for #MFRWauthor

Best gift under the treeEspecially in this season, there is much to be grateful for. There is so much, in fact, how does one limit it to a few? Don’t know… But I’m going to try.

  1. The people in my life. I know it sounds trite but I’m so very grateful for the people in my life, especially my mom and husband, but right on their heels are my in-laws (I was blessed with the best!), my aunt, and my closest friends. It seems that when I needed someone, there was always someone there. I only hope I return the favor so someone somewhere says they’re grateful for me, too.
  2. Health. I had polio as a baby but fortunately, that’s the worst health issue I’ve ever had. I’m kind of grateful even for that, though because it helped shape me (for the better, I hope) and gave me adversity to overcome.
  3. Travel. With our eight years of trucking, hubby and I saw a whole hell of a lot of the U.S. and western Canada. Travel expands the mind (and the waistline, sadly). We met so many wonderful people in those eight years US Mapand I learned things I’ve never forgotten. It planted my feet firmly on the ground and centered me. Plus, it gave me a perspective on everything in life since. As hubby says, once you’ve started to jackknife coming down Donner Pass in a blizzard, the meaning of “stress” changes forever more.
  4. Moving around. As a consultant in a specialized arena, hubby moved us quite a bit. The effect was like traveling, above, except with an immersion component. We lived several different places in the U.S. and got to know those places and people really well. I loved it to the point of when hubby said he wanted to stay here, where we were planted after two years, I had withdrawal symptoms. 😉
  5. Life. I have learned to be happy. It’s not always a given, being happy. It’s something I decide every day to be and now I am blooming where I’ve been planted. I was born in the best time. I’ve had innumerable chances to Key to Happinessexperience things most people have not. I’ve been able to write. I’ve enjoyed both working and not working. I’ve been blessed, totally and sincerely. It’s such a wonderful feeling!

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

Dee
Only a Good Man Will Do: Seriously ambitious man seeks woman to encourage his goals, support his (hopeful) position as Headmaster of Westover Academy, and be purer than Caesar’s wife. Good luck with that!

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!