We CAN
We CAN
By Laura Bradford
It was exactly a week ago today, that evil preyed on Newtown, Connecticut. And not a day has gone by since then that I haven’t cried.
I know Newtown. I grew up in the next town over. I’ve driven those streets, passed that school, turned “right at the flag pole.” But more than that, I’m a mom and I’m a human being–two things you can’t be and not hurt deep inside for what those children went through, what their parents and siblings must grapple with for the rest of their lives.
Like Maggie said on Wednesday, I guess what I’m struggling with is the why. This wasn’t a country with something to prove, or a person with an ax to grind. How could it be when twenty of the victims were first graders?
First graders.
Just the thought of those precious little innocents brings the tears all over again. And with the tears comes the overwhelming feeling of helplessness. After all, in a hurricane or other natural disaster, you can send food and clothes. But for something like this? What can you really do? What can you do to erase this kind of hurt?
Nothing.
Two days ago, I finally reached out (via email) to a pastor from my old church in St. Charles, MO. I guess I needed the comfort he’s so good at giving. I needed to hear something that I could hold onto other than despair.
He did not disappoint.
He, too, knows there is nothing we can truly do to take the pain from these families. But he said something that I’ve held onto since I read his email. He said, “For now, we wait, we trust, we hope…and we do whatever we CAN do to make a little bit of earth more like a little bit of heaven.”
A little bit of earth more like a little bit of heaven.
I like that. Because no matter what your religious beliefs, I’m quite sure we can all agree this world needs to be better.
No one person can change the world, but each and every person can change their corner of it with a little bit of determination and heart. I know I’m sure going to try.
In the meantime, I wish a very Merry Christmas to those who celebrate, and a blessed 2013 to all. We can change things. We can make this world better…one small step at a time.
~Laura
Tis the Season to fight technology
(Or why you should never spill coffee into your lap top computer)
by Maria Geraci
Technology and I do not mix. Let me tell you why.
A couple of weeks ago the unthinkable happened. While typing away feverishly on my previous 10-year-old Dell lap top computer, I accidentally knocked over the nearly full cup of steaming hot coffee I’d been drinking.
Although my first impulse was to dial 911, I refrained and instead acted like the quick thinking nurse/slash/author that I am. I turned my laptop over and gave it a few solid whacks on the back (ala the Heimlich Maneuver). It sort of worked. Most of the coffee came dripping out, but I knew that some was stuck in there too and my only alternative at this point was to wait it out and hope that once the coffee dried, my lap top wouldn’t mind too much. Heck, maybe the caffeine might even give it some sort of boost.
Alas, it did not. While it’s mostly workable, every once in while it does this wacky sort of thing (yes, that’s how I tried to explain it to the Geek Squad at Best Buy) and it’s just too unreliable now for a working author. Which means I need a new lap top.
Lesson learned: Liquids and lap tops are not simpatico.
On to my iPhone problems. I am one of those people who own an original iPhone. Yes, I was one of those foolish millions who rushed to buy an iPhone before Apple got their stuff together on the product. Which meant that within the first 3 months of owning the little darling, I had to get 2 replacement phones because none of them worked correctly. By the time I was on my 3rd iPhone I vowed (Scarlet O’Hara style) never to buy one again. But… I did love a lot about it. The keyboard was big enough to text easily, I could get my emails on my phone. I could use it as a camera. Heck, I could even check the weather. I really liked that little phone. Alas, it’s now so outdated that none of the updates will take, which means, I guess that it’s long past time for a new phone. But I’m just not sure I’m ready for a new iPhone. I mean, do I trust them again? Surely, by now they have their act together. Everyone else seems to love the newest versions (including my kids), so I guess I should swallow my pride, forget my hand fisted vow and upgrade to a new iPhone 5 (or whatever number it’s on now).
Lesson learned: Don’t buy the newest product until the manufacturer has a chance to work out the kinks. No one wants to be a consumer guinea pig.
And last but not least… my outdoor Christmas lights have gone wacky.
I love Christmas lights. I put them up the first weekend in December and they stay on until a couple of days after New Years (bah Humbug to those people who take their Christmas decorations down December 26th!).
This season I have 3 sections of lights going a la Clark Griswald. Two in the front of the house, one on the side. All the sections are on separate timers programmed to go on at 6pm and turn off at midnight. The first few days, all was well. Then I noticed one of the front sections was delayed a few minutes. Then the side section started turning on about 15 minutes earlier than the front sections. No problem. I simply redid all the timers, which fixed the problem. For a day or so. Last night the left front section turned on, business as usual. I waited for the right front section to follow. And waited. And waited. Finally, exasperated, I marched outside to see what the problem was. That’s when I found the left front section timer was missing a dial. How did that happen? Beats me. All I know is, I give up. I have 3 healthy beautiful children and a very patient husband who laughs at all my foolishness. I will enjoy the lights when and if they decide to come on.
Lesson learned: Technology might beat me down, but it will never crush my Christmas spirit.
I wish you and your family, a joyous, healthy holiday filled with much love!
Tell Me Why
As I sit here on a dreary Monday, thinking about what to
write, my mind keeps going back to this past Friday and how I sat and watched
television for hours on end, hoping to find out something that would make the
story easier to digest, better than we all thought.
write, my mind keeps going back to this past Friday and how I sat and watched
television for hours on end, hoping to find out something that would make the
story easier to digest, better than we all thought.
It was well into the evening, after we had eaten dinner and
were settled in for the night, when my husband asked me if we could please
change the channel. I reluctantly agreed
but once in the thrall of my favorite cooking show, realized that I needed the
change. Why had I continued watching
television coverage all day, not realizing that the one thing I wanted to know
would never be revealed? What was it
that I was waiting for?
were settled in for the night, when my husband asked me if we could please
change the channel. I reluctantly agreed
but once in the thrall of my favorite cooking show, realized that I needed the
change. Why had I continued watching
television coverage all day, not realizing that the one thing I wanted to know
would never be revealed? What was it
that I was waiting for?
When I thought about it, the answer to that question was
“why.”
“why.”
I wanted someone to report on why this had happened.
Well, we all know better.
There is no why. There will never
be answers.
There is no why. There will never
be answers.
For some reason, I didn’t feel scared sending child #2 off
to school today. Yes, I believe that
there will be copycats out there who want to best this villain in the twisted
game of who did the most damage; I don’t know when that will be or where but I
am confident that until we take “meaningful action,” it will happen again. But doesn’t it seem like we are hearing of
one shooting after another, week after week, with more lives lost than ever
before?
to school today. Yes, I believe that
there will be copycats out there who want to best this villain in the twisted
game of who did the most damage; I don’t know when that will be or where but I
am confident that until we take “meaningful action,” it will happen again. But doesn’t it seem like we are hearing of
one shooting after another, week after week, with more lives lost than ever
before?
This is now a bipartisan issue. I don’t think any one of us,
despite of who we voted for in the most recent election, can say that it should
be very, very difficult to buy an assault weapon and the ammunition needed to
do the damage that a gun like that can do. I don’t care what you think of
Democrats or Republicans or Independents, but we all must agree that something
needs to be done.
despite of who we voted for in the most recent election, can say that it should
be very, very difficult to buy an assault weapon and the ammunition needed to
do the damage that a gun like that can do. I don’t care what you think of
Democrats or Republicans or Independents, but we all must agree that something
needs to be done.
That’s all I have to say because words fail me at a time
like this.
like this.
Please accept my warm wishes and blessings to you and yours
during this holiday season. Maggie
during this holiday season. Maggie
Christmas Past
I’ve celebrated a lot of Christmases. As a child, we had great ones despite my parents not having much money. My sister and I always had surprises when we woke on Christmas morning. Some of my favorites were a two story doll house built by my dad with furniture my aunt made. One year I received a Shirley Tempe doll with a carriage. (I broke the doll not long after Christmas, but that another story.) My dad made me a two-wheel bike during the war when no one could buy one. I always received books, which I managed to read before the day was over. Storybook dolls were also a wonderful present. When I got older, clothes and books were the presents I wanted.
With my own children, I tried to carry on some of the same gift giving habits–even making some items. Hubby built a Barbie doll house for our oldest daughter and I made the furniture. When the kids were little I only worked off and on–but usually before Christmas so I could pay for the presents.
When we lived in Oxnard and my folks were still in L.A. and the kids were small, we often spent Christmas at Grandma’s house–doing things much like we’d done when I was a kid.
One Christmas I wasn’t around for the gift opening because I had to work an early a.m. shift for the phone company. That was not fun.
When my family grew and grew, we had Christmas at home and I cooked the Christmas dinner.
Kids grew up, got married and for awhile we managed to have a Christmas celebration at either my house or my sisters with our combined families. Eventually there were way too many of us.
As time went on, and grand kids and great-grandkids arrived, each family started their own tradition.
For the last few years, we’ve had Christmas Eve dinner for a few of the grandkids who wanted to come with a present exchange. On Christmas morning, we headed over to the daughter’s who lives nearby and watched her grandkids unwrap givfts.
This year, I think hubby and I will go to the movies on Christmas Day, something we’ve never done before.
What this all proves, is nothing stays the same.
We will enjoy our Christmas no matter what. I’m thankful we’ve had the blessing of so many past Christmases.
I wish you all a wonderful Holiday Season no matter what or how you celebrate, Happy Chanukah, Merry Christmas and a blessed New Year.
Marilyn
Making Spirits Bright
By Evelyn David
“Those who are happiest are those who do the most for
others.”
others.”
― Booker T. Washington, Up from Slavery
This is just a nice, holiday feel-good story. Please share
some of your own experiences. These types of tales remind us of how the small
gestures of charity and kindness reverberate and reflect the true joy of the
season.
some of your own experiences. These types of tales remind us of how the small
gestures of charity and kindness reverberate and reflect the true joy of the
season.
My friend has served on the board of a women’s shelter for
many years. It is a place where women and children, victims of domestic
violence, can find a safe refuge to begin rebuilding their lives. Every year,
there are always plenty of gifts for the children at the shelter, but my friend
has organized a program to make sure that each of the mothers also has
something to open on Christmas Day. Donors are asked to purchase a robe,
slippers, and some beauty product, and put them in a festive bag. I’ve been
participating for years and the joy I get from this small charitable gesture
makes the season bright for me.
many years. It is a place where women and children, victims of domestic
violence, can find a safe refuge to begin rebuilding their lives. Every year,
there are always plenty of gifts for the children at the shelter, but my friend
has organized a program to make sure that each of the mothers also has
something to open on Christmas Day. Donors are asked to purchase a robe,
slippers, and some beauty product, and put them in a festive bag. I’ve been
participating for years and the joy I get from this small charitable gesture
makes the season bright for me.
I mention, only in passing, that my friend is Jewish, very
active in herTemple
but determined to make the holidays special for those who are already
struggling mightily.
active in her
but determined to make the holidays special for those who are already
struggling mightily.
This year, my friend asked the housemother at a group home
for young boys, if anyone needed anything special. Yes, a teenager (father
dead, mother an addict) was growing like a weed and needed some new clothes. “No
problem,” said my friend and off she went to Kohl’s Department Store.
for young boys, if anyone needed anything special. Yes, a teenager (father
dead, mother an addict) was growing like a weed and needed some new clothes. “No
problem,” said my friend and off she went to Kohl’s Department Store.
Now, let me add that my friend is not only charitable, but
likes a good bargain too! Kohl’s was giving out coupons and by the luck of the
draw, you could get 15, 20, or 30 percent off your entire purchase. Hallelujah,
she’d gotten a 30 percent off coupon! She shopped carefully and picked out several
new slacks and shirts for the teen. She went up to the register, armed with her
coupon, and when the cashier rang up the total, it came to $87.
likes a good bargain too! Kohl’s was giving out coupons and by the luck of the
draw, you could get 15, 20, or 30 percent off your entire purchase. Hallelujah,
she’d gotten a 30 percent off coupon! She shopped carefully and picked out several
new slacks and shirts for the teen. She went up to the register, armed with her
coupon, and when the cashier rang up the total, it came to $87.
And then all H**l broke out. Bells, whistles, and a booming
voice over the store loudspeaker system, announced that my friend was the day’s
winner.
voice over the store loudspeaker system, announced that my friend was the day’s
winner.
Winner? She felt like she’d won when she got the 30% off
coupon. Nope, it was better than that.
coupon. Nope, it was better than that.
Kohl’s had a new promotion. Once a day, a shopper
is chosen at random to receive his or her purchase for FREE.
is chosen at random to receive his or her purchase for FREE.
Wow!
Not wanting her coupon to go to waste, my friend turned to
the man standing next to her in line and offered it to him. He explained that
he worked for a construction company and that a group of workers were doing
the same thing she was – buying for someone, in this case, an entire family in
need. My friend’s coupon was double what his was.
the man standing next to her in line and offered it to him. He explained that
he worked for a construction company and that a group of workers were doing
the same thing she was – buying for someone, in this case, an entire family in
need. My friend’s coupon was double what his was.
I told my friend that she was doing a beautiful mitzvah (Hebrew
for good deed). And she said what she always says, “I get more out of it
than I give.”
for good deed). And she said what she always says, “I get more out of it
than I give.”
Bill Gates, bless his heart, can make donations to worthy
causes at levels I can’t even comprehend. But the small gestures are just as
important – maybe more so?
causes at levels I can’t even comprehend. But the small gestures are just as
important – maybe more so?
Wishing you the best, brightest, most joyous holiday season.
A Reason to Give Thanks includes: Giving Thanks
in Lottawatah, Bah, Humbug in Lottawatah, Moonlighting at the Mall, The Fortune
Teller’s Face, A Reason to Give Thanks, Sneak Peek – Murder Off the Books,
Sneak Peek – I Try Not to Drive Past Cemeteries
A Reason to Give Thanks
Kindle
Nook
Smashwords
Sullivan Investigations Mystery
Murder Off the Books Kindle – Nook – Smashwords – Trade Paperback
Murder Takes the Cake Kindle – Nook – Smashwords – Trade Paperback
Riley Come Home (short story)- Kindle – Nook – Smashwords
Moonlighting at the Mall (short story) – Kindle – Nook – Smashwords
Brianna Sullivan Mysteries – e-book series
I Try Not to Drive Past Cemeteries– Kindle – Nook – Smashwords
The Dog Days of Summer in Lottawatah– Kindle – Nook – Smashwords
The Holiday Spirit(s) of Lottawatah– Kindle – Nook – Smashwords
Undying Love in Lottawatah- Kindle – Nook – Smashwords
A Haunting in Lottawatah – Kindle (exclusive to Amazon this month)
Lottawatah Twister – Kindle – Nook – Smashwords
Missing in Lottawatah – Kindle – Nook – Smashwords
Good Grief in Lottawatah – Kindle – Nook – Smashwords
Summer Lightning in Lottawatah – Kindle – Nook – Smashwords
The Ghosts of Lottawatah – trade paperback collection of the Brianna e-books
Book 1 – I Try Not to Drive Past Cemeteries (includes the first four Brianna e-books)
Book 2 – A Haunting in Lottawatah (includes the 5th, 6th, and 7th Brianna e-books)
Romances
Love Lessons – Kindle – Nook – Smashwords
Title Me This
By Laura Spinella
Titles are interesting things. Often, they grow organically out of a work
in progress, popping up on a dusty, finger-smudged screen, the author shouting,
“Eureka! That’s it, that’s the title!” At least, that’s how it usually plays
out for me. I don’t think much about the
title going in. Compared to the angst of getting a whole book on paper, the given
name for any blood, sweat and tears of mine seems like well-earned dessert for
eating all my peas. I’m partial to titles that play out in the narrative, so
much the better if it shows up in a pivotal segment of dialogue. In BEAUTIFUL DISASTER, my protagonist gets the cue. He poses the phrase as an inner
thought on the precipice of an intense romantic scene:
in progress, popping up on a dusty, finger-smudged screen, the author shouting,
“Eureka! That’s it, that’s the title!” At least, that’s how it usually plays
out for me. I don’t think much about the
title going in. Compared to the angst of getting a whole book on paper, the given
name for any blood, sweat and tears of mine seems like well-earned dessert for
eating all my peas. I’m partial to titles that play out in the narrative, so
much the better if it shows up in a pivotal segment of dialogue. In BEAUTIFUL DISASTER, my protagonist gets the cue. He poses the phrase as an inner
thought on the precipice of an intense romantic scene:
Flynn realized he’d said the last part with his eyes closed. When heopened them he was startled to find Mia two steps from his face. What the hell
was she doing there, so close to him? She was so goddamn beautiful, and this…
This showed all the signs of a beautiful disaster. He repeats it out loud
near the book’s climax, as he leaves Mia for what appears to be the last time,
saying, “I shouldn’t have come back here.
Let it go, sweetheart. It… it was never anything more than a beautiful
disaster.”
I remember
typing those words, unsure if my novel would ever find a publisher. I did know,
however, that I’d found my title. I had similar experiences with my trunk
novels, as well as the novel that comes out next year. THE IT FACTOR is a phrase
that personifies the idea of possessing every element necessary to succeed. It’s
spoken first by the novel’s antagonist, and later used by the protagonist in
what I saw as a clever play on words.
typing those words, unsure if my novel would ever find a publisher. I did know,
however, that I’d found my title. I had similar experiences with my trunk
novels, as well as the novel that comes out next year. THE IT FACTOR is a phrase
that personifies the idea of possessing every element necessary to succeed. It’s
spoken first by the novel’s antagonist, and later used by the protagonist in
what I saw as a clever play on words.
Turns out it’s not as
clever as I thought. A few weeks ago my editor emailed, asking if I would
consider changing the title. This came as no shock; publishers change titles
all the time. In many cases, contracts stipulate that the publisher gets final
say. It’s simply the way it works. I was lucky with BD, the title fit like a
glove. And while my publisher toyed with the idea of changing it, everyone
ultimately agreed that it was most representative of the story. Apparently, for
the new book, THE IT FACTOR wasn’t quite the complement they had in mind.
clever as I thought. A few weeks ago my editor emailed, asking if I would
consider changing the title. This came as no shock; publishers change titles
all the time. In many cases, contracts stipulate that the publisher gets final
say. It’s simply the way it works. I was lucky with BD, the title fit like a
glove. And while my publisher toyed with the idea of changing it, everyone
ultimately agreed that it was most representative of the story. Apparently, for
the new book, THE IT FACTOR wasn’t quite the complement they had in mind.
So this was new for me,
having to replace a title that was familiar and set. Without exaggerating, the
feeling wasn’t too terribly different from someone asking me to change one of
my kids’ names. Sometimes, I’d like to change their last name and address, but
that’s a different blog. The point is I had few options other than to do this,
to change THE IT FACTOR to… WHAT?
This is where the real problem came in. For a person who claims a fairly fluid imagination,
I was embarrassingly stumped. Editor and agent alike offered numerous
suggestions while my friends, boss, relatives and next-door-neighbor chimed in
with theirs. It became the center of every discussion and an ugly argument at Thanksgiving
dinner. But no, nothing was right. Nothing sounded like the book I wrote or the
point I wanted to convey. I was ready to give up, ready to give in to a sorta title. Honestly? I didn’t think I
was off to a very good start with book number two.
having to replace a title that was familiar and set. Without exaggerating, the
feeling wasn’t too terribly different from someone asking me to change one of
my kids’ names. Sometimes, I’d like to change their last name and address, but
that’s a different blog. The point is I had few options other than to do this,
to change THE IT FACTOR to… WHAT?
This is where the real problem came in. For a person who claims a fairly fluid imagination,
I was embarrassingly stumped. Editor and agent alike offered numerous
suggestions while my friends, boss, relatives and next-door-neighbor chimed in
with theirs. It became the center of every discussion and an ugly argument at Thanksgiving
dinner. But no, nothing was right. Nothing sounded like the book I wrote or the
point I wanted to convey. I was ready to give up, ready to give in to a sorta title. Honestly? I didn’t think I
was off to a very good start with book number two.
Disappointed, I mentally
abandoned the problem, though I couldn’t shake the wise words of my agent. As
we weeded through and rejected title after title, she kept one thought at the
forefront, “Does it speak clearly about the novel… or to the audience?” Well,
certainly nothing I’d dreamt up did. But then I began to think about the
message, the story my protagonist was trying to tell. Well, Aidan Royce was a
musician. Everything he conveys is set to music. He’s in love with a girl named
Isabel, lyrical enough in its own right. From there I Googled musical
terms until I stumbled across the word rhapsody,
narrowing it down to its dictionary definition: a highly emotional work. And there was my Eureka! ISABEL’S
RHAPSHODY. While it was methodical and meticulous—hardly the romantic
process I would prefer—the title, ISABEL’S RHAPSODY, seems to fit like a
glove.
abandoned the problem, though I couldn’t shake the wise words of my agent. As
we weeded through and rejected title after title, she kept one thought at the
forefront, “Does it speak clearly about the novel… or to the audience?” Well,
certainly nothing I’d dreamt up did. But then I began to think about the
message, the story my protagonist was trying to tell. Well, Aidan Royce was a
musician. Everything he conveys is set to music. He’s in love with a girl named
Isabel, lyrical enough in its own right. From there I Googled musical
terms until I stumbled across the word rhapsody,
narrowing it down to its dictionary definition: a highly emotional work. And there was my Eureka! ISABEL’S
RHAPSHODY. While it was methodical and meticulous—hardly the romantic
process I would prefer—the title, ISABEL’S RHAPSODY, seems to fit like a
glove.
Laura Spinella is the author of the award-winning novel, BEAUTIFUL DISASTER and the upcoming novel, ISABEL’S RHAPSODY. Visit her at lauraspinella.net
A Holiday Rant
From Bethany Maines
The Christmas Season is upon us. The cards are filling up the mantle. The lights are hung. I’m dreaming of Christmas cookies, but
haven’t actually found the time to make them. The tree is decked and if I have to go to the mall again,
someone else is getting decked as well. And I know who it would be – the
Salvation Army bell ringers. I
know that sounds mean, and the truth is that I appreciate the Salvation
Army. I donate to the Salvation
Army. I even sing along during
Guys and Dolls (sit down your rocking the boat!). The Salvation Army is a good
and useful organization… that needs a bell-ectomy.
Those bells are not nice bells. They’re tinny and rung with
a sort of bored, off-rhythm malevolence that creates an aural graffiti for
shoppers. I’m convinced that it is this kind of repetitive, grating torture
that leads to Shopper Rage incidents. A little too many people in your personal space. One too many automated dancing
Santa’s. One more hideous, modern
and sugary rendition of a Christmas classic piped in on the overhead sound
system. One more bell ringer… And snap! The bags and fists are flying. Yup, that Grandma just took down the
teenager with the emo hair and one too many pieces of face jewelry. It’s sad,
but it could be prevented, my friends.
a sort of bored, off-rhythm malevolence that creates an aural graffiti for
shoppers. I’m convinced that it is this kind of repetitive, grating torture
that leads to Shopper Rage incidents. A little too many people in your personal space. One too many automated dancing
Santa’s. One more hideous, modern
and sugary rendition of a Christmas classic piped in on the overhead sound
system. One more bell ringer… And snap! The bags and fists are flying. Yup, that Grandma just took down the
teenager with the emo hair and one too many pieces of face jewelry. It’s sad,
but it could be prevented, my friends.
And what about the shop employees? What have they done to
deserve having their day punctuated with non-stop clanging and noise? These are
the ones who help us find the right size, where they’ve hidden the figs, or
where the last one was buried in the back room. Don’t we owe it to them to protect them from the bells? (Aw, God, the bells! The bells!)
deserve having their day punctuated with non-stop clanging and noise? These are
the ones who help us find the right size, where they’ve hidden the figs, or
where the last one was buried in the back room. Don’t we owe it to them to protect them from the bells? (Aw, God, the bells! The bells!)
I think it’s time the Salvation Army came up with a new
donation scheme. How about for every dollar donated the bell ringer will give
one minute of silence? Some might call it blackmail, but I prefer to call it
“creative finance.” Also, how about investing in higher quality bells? Possibly
if the bells had an actual musical tone they might not be such a blight on the
sound landscape. And of course, it
might help if some of the bell ringers had some musical talent, but possibly
that’s just asking too much. For
now, I’d just settle for one simple Christmas wish – stop ringing the bell.
donation scheme. How about for every dollar donated the bell ringer will give
one minute of silence? Some might call it blackmail, but I prefer to call it
“creative finance.” Also, how about investing in higher quality bells? Possibly
if the bells had an actual musical tone they might not be such a blight on the
sound landscape. And of course, it
might help if some of the bell ringers had some musical talent, but possibly
that’s just asking too much. For
now, I’d just settle for one simple Christmas wish – stop ringing the bell.
The Holiday Season
by: Joelle Charbonneau
I love winter.
Strange, but true. I love the
crisp air, the snow and all the fun that goes along with it. If it means shoveling the walks or scraping
ice off the car—well, that is the price I pay for living in a place where all
the seasons are celebrated to their fullest.
Strange, but true. I love the
crisp air, the snow and all the fun that goes along with it. If it means shoveling the walks or scraping
ice off the car—well, that is the price I pay for living in a place where all
the seasons are celebrated to their fullest.
Part of the reason I love winter is the holidays it
brings. Hanukkah and the glow of the
candles that are lit. Christmas filled
with music and lights. Kwanzaa and the celebration
of family and harvest. And finally the
ringing in of the New Year.
brings. Hanukkah and the glow of the
candles that are lit. Christmas filled
with music and lights. Kwanzaa and the celebration
of family and harvest. And finally the
ringing in of the New Year.
I will admit that this year I am less prepared for the
holidays than ever and not because I’ve failed to check things off the to-do
list. The tree is up and there are
gingerbread houses decorated. I have presents
bought and am getting cards ready to be sent.
Physically, I am ready for the start of this season that I love.
holidays than ever and not because I’ve failed to check things off the to-do
list. The tree is up and there are
gingerbread houses decorated. I have presents
bought and am getting cards ready to be sent.
Physically, I am ready for the start of this season that I love.
Emotionally, I am not.
With every day that passes, the calendar grows closer to the
one year anniversary of my father-in-law’s passing. I miss him.
I miss his laughter and his support.
I miss the certainty with which he said I could accomplish anything. I miss the way he and my son sang songs and
played games. I miss his shoulder and
his understanding.
one year anniversary of my father-in-law’s passing. I miss him.
I miss his laughter and his support.
I miss the certainty with which he said I could accomplish anything. I miss the way he and my son sang songs and
played games. I miss his shoulder and
his understanding.
And yet, the one thing I know is that he, too, loved the
holidays. Not the shopping and the card
sending—though he loved giving gifts, he hated the worry of coming up with just
the right thing. No, the trappings of
the holidays meant little to him. What
he loved was spending time with his family, setting aside time to reconnect
with friends and celebrating the religious beliefs he followed.
holidays. Not the shopping and the card
sending—though he loved giving gifts, he hated the worry of coming up with just
the right thing. No, the trappings of
the holidays meant little to him. What
he loved was spending time with his family, setting aside time to reconnect
with friends and celebrating the religious beliefs he followed.
So, while my heart hurts, I will do my best to find the
happiness and joy in each and every day of this holiday season. When I shed tears, they will serve as a
reminder of the gift of his love that I was given. And when my son laughs and sings, I will hear
my father-in-law in every joyous sound and smile. I will remember. And I will be glad.
happiness and joy in each and every day of this holiday season. When I shed tears, they will serve as a
reminder of the gift of his love that I was given. And when my son laughs and sings, I will hear
my father-in-law in every joyous sound and smile. I will remember. And I will be glad.
This is the season for family and for love. May the magic of this holiday season bring
you joy and closer in your heart to those you care for no matter how far apart
you might be.
you joy and closer in your heart to those you care for no matter how far apart
you might be.
Introducing Brianna Sullivan Mysteries: Books 1-3
By Evelyn David
Once upon a time Brianna Sullivan, a reluctant psychic from Chicago, gave up her job as a lost baggage finder at a major airlines and cashed in her savings to buy a motorhome. She named the motorhome, Matilda. Throwing off the burdens and responsbilities of full time employment, she began her journey across the United States, stopping from time to time and doing enough odd jobs to pay for the gasoline that Matilda guzzled like there was no tomorrow. One of her first stops was in the tiny Oklahoma town of Lottawatah where the population of living persons to the number of ghosts walking around was about equal.
 |
| Vol. 1 – Brianna arrives in Lottawatah, Oklahoma |
After assisting the Lottawatah police in a couple of murder investigations, I TRY NOT TO DRIVE PAST CEMETERIES, Brianna decided to stay awhile and enjoy the small town atmosphere and the small town police detective who’d tweaked her interest. And to be honest, the gas prices had skyrocketed and she couldn’t afford to stay on the road until she earned some serious cash.
 |
| Vol. 2 – Brianna attends Cooper’s school reunion |
In the second volume of the series, THE DOG DAYS OF SUMMER IN LOTTAWATAH, Brianna sweats through an Oklahoma summer, heats up her romance with Detective Cooper Jackson, and finds out where all the bodies are buried (literally) when she attends Cooper’s 20th High School reunion.
 |
| Vol. 3 – Brianna meets Cooper’s family and enjoys a Thanksgiving meal with both the living and the dead |
Brianna continues her adventures in Lottawatah in the third volume of the series – THE HOLIDAY SPIRIT(S) OF LOTTAWATAH. This book contains two short stories one set during Thanksgiving and the other during Christmas. In the first – Giving Thanks in Lottawatah – Brianna joins Cooper Jackson’s family for their traditional Thanksgiving meal, complete with relatives long passed over to the other side. The second story – Bah, Humbug in Lottawatah – details how Brianna solves a crime everyone already thought was solved, brings the real killer to justice, and gets an innocent man home in time for Christmas.
These mysteries and the others in the Brianna Sullivan Mysteries series are available in ebook or print format. For “buy links” see below.
The Brianna Sullivan Mysteries series – 9 books to date.
Brianna Sullivan Mysteries – e-book series
I Try Not to Drive Past Cemeteries– Kindle – Nook – Smashwords
The Dog Days of Summer in Lottawatah– Kindle – Nook – Smashwords
The Holiday Spirit(s) of Lottawatah– Kindle – Nook – Smashwords
Undying Love in Lottawatah- Kindle – Nook – Smashwords
A Haunting in Lottawatah – Kindle (exclusive to Amazon this month)
Lottawatah Twister – Kindle – Nook – Smashwords
Missing in Lottawatah – Kindle – Nook – Smashwords
Good Grief in Lottawatah – Kindle – Nook – Smashwords
Summer Lightning in Lottawatah – Kindle – Nook – Smashwords
For a limited time we are offering a boxed set of E-books
of the first four in the series –
The Ghosts of
Lottawatah – Kindle – Nook – Smashwords
The Ghosts of Lottawatah – trade paperback collection of the Brianna e-books
Book 1 – I Try Not to Drive Past Cemeteries (includes the first four Brianna e-books)
Book 2 – A Haunting in Lottawatah (includes the 5th, 6th, and 7th Brianna e-books)
Our holiday gift to you – leave a comment on this blog entry before Dec. 16 at midnight Eastern time with a contact email address for a chance to win a trade paperback version of our stand-alone mystery – ZONED FOR MURDER