AWWWWWWWWWW

Isn't this adorable????

Not DH but it could be.

And my kittens are all grown up...

But, awwwwwwww... SO cute!!!

Notice anything?

My nephew is living in the old farm house where I grew up, the one that is certainly haunted. He's been doing some renovations and sent me this picture of his latest project~ the dining room~ seen here. The living room is part of the older house.

Do you see anything unusual (against the blue curtain) or is it just me?

Click on the picture for an enlargement.

WINNERS

Valerie from Germany won the two songs

Denyse won a prize package with a bookmark, buttons, and a cover flat.

Contact: stefstringfellow (at) gmail.com

Guest author Delilah K Stephans!

Delilah : Hi everyone! I’m Delilah K. Stephans. I’m here with my buddy Antonia Tiranth, Jett Houston and Amara Carnesir. We’re hoping that you will join us as we celebrate the release of Jett and Amara’s book. I’m going to let Antonia say hi.

Antonia : Hey guys! I'm really excited about this release for a few reasons. First, its my third published work and that never gets dull. ^.^
Second, its the continuation of a tale that I am very much enjoying being the teller of.
And finally, because its the first published work from both Del and I. Its not the first thing we've written together by any means and Del has been with me the whole time with the Rikashi series, helping me when I'm stuck and editing among other things.
Okay, enough about me. I should introduce you to our stars, Jett and Amara!
Jett: Guess I’m up next. Well, Tir – that’s what Delilah calls Antonia – started chronicling the Rikashi stories. No one has quite figured out how she’s doing it, but that’s not the point. So when it came time for Black Velvet. I thought since those two were writing buddies that Del should get in on the fun…
Amara: Oh be honest, you just wanted to be difficult. And Antonia is too polite to type your foul mouth.
Jett: I am so paddling your ass when we get home Princess.
Amara: I might just enjoy it.
Delilah: Ok you two behave! Sheesh.
Jett: So, where was I? So, I wouldn’t talk to Tir. Drove her nuts!
Antonia : Nuts doesn't begin to cover it. More like hair pulling frustration.
Jett: Anyway, they go ways back writing and finished our story.
Amara: Wow! You didn’t cuss once, I’m impressed. I’m Amara. think Antonia was a little surprised when I ended up being in the middle of the third tale. I wasn't exactly very talkative in The Gathering ...I'll blame that one on Daddy...but I'm sure you'll find our story interesting. You'll learn more about the prophecy and some of the changes happening in our society. Things definitely heat up *looks at Jett* on several levels.
Antonia: You can say that again. So, I hope you guys take a look at Black Velvet. If you're new to the series, you should take a look at the first two. Now, what are we doing to celebrate? I'll let Del tell you about that.
Delilah: Ok so while we’re here we’ll be answering any and all questions. For one lucky commenter we have downloads of the two songs that fit the book – Tal Bachman’s “She’s so High” and Alannah Myles’ “Black Velvet”. For a few others we’ve got a stockpile of goodies we’ll be giving out – buttons, cover flats, bookmarks, and other goodies. So feel free to ask questions or just say hi!
Antonia : The songs will be provided via a gift download from iTunes (just figured out how to do that!) Del and I love hearing from readers and invite you to visit our websites, Delilah's and mine. You can also find us on Twitter and Facebook.
And now for a look at the cover, Amara...stop drooling.

And the blurb : I scanned the tables and counter, my eyes settling on him. There he was. Dark cowboy hat, dark coat, dark hair, and too handsome for his own good. He was sitting in one of the back booths, blending with the shadows.
I walked to his table, seating myself across from him.
He looked over his menu at me and smirked.
“Just can’t stay away from me, can you, Princess?” The nickname made me bristle, but I took a deep breath. I had to keep my focus on the mission.
“So it seems.”
“Interesting,” he murmured, turning his eyes back to the menu, his face hidden beneath the brim of the hat. Now what? What exactly should I say to him?
“We need you,” I blurted. Might as well get right to the point, rather than beat around the bush. He laid the menu on the table. His dark eyes skimmed over my hair, my lips and down to my breasts, before returning to meet mine. My breath caught in my throat. There was such intensity in those eyes.
“We,” he echoed, then his voice dropped to a gravelly tone that made me want to squirm in my seat, “…or you?”
Now exactly what was that supposed to mean? I was one of the Aikanaro, if all of us needed him, didn’t that mean by extension each of us needed him?
“I need you to come --”
“Ladies first.” He tapped the brim of his hat with a finger and winked. I blinked at him, not understanding what he meant by that. Then slowly his meaning hit me and heat crept into my cheeks.
“That’s not what I meant,” I snapped. “If you would just let me finish.”

You can get your copy of the book from Lyrical Press, Inc.

Dare to believe!

Happy Halloween!

Solitary Light

She had served her day, the old railway station. Steam and coal and countless voices- what stories she could tell- glory days of prosperity, fortunes made and lost! Decades had come and gone, and now she stood, empty, alone, with nothing but memories. The roof shadowed in early morning mist, windows boarded, graffiti soiling cracked walls. She was wrapped in a cloak of absolute stillness. Once the sun broke through the mist, once the birds began their songs, more men would venture near. But on this day she was to be demolished; her existence rubbed away. A new page in history was about to turn.

The Spirit of Recollection can be both cruel and loving. Why I sought the wooden bench in the darkness of that spring morning, I cannot explain. Except maybe to reminisce about those who had passed through my life, and be thankful for indelible impressions that remain with me still. Their voices inevitably fade, those who are gone- forgotten in the tumult of recent memories- but from time to time don’t we all long for those individual glory days, the ones that warm the heart when age presses tightly against the knowledge of mortality?

The railway station had run her course. Soon she would be remembered only in a photograph, glanced upon occasionally in a museum, fleeting seconds. I sighed to deepest melancholy, brimming over the edges of my heart. One day I too, will be nothing more than a dusty photograph. My voice will fade; the illumination in my eye will be gone. My only hope was that, in some small way, my impression has been made on another, if only for a short while. Perhaps that was why I was there on that cold spring morning, for some moments in time are too strong for words.

It was equally clear to me that I welcomed self pity. My fingers were cold, my clothes damp. Yet I remained. Frailty of emotion as well, needs a course to follow.

And then when my spirit sunk its lowest I saw him!

An apparition, for this I was certain. Stooped with age or fatigue, he progressed between the lines of the track, neither striding or strolling, but gliding, shape and form not bothered by restriction of gravity. The blackness he wore against the dim hue of morning was unrecognizable, his bowed features obscured by shadow. And regardless of the mantle he carried, in his hand was a lantern, a solitary light, guiding his soundless path along the railway tracks.

Poor soul! His oblivion did not dictate the passage of time. He did not understand his era was over, that the station was vacant, the tracks no longer in need of checking. Poor soul- his labour was unfinished. The beam preceded him as he floated past where I sat in stunned silence. Even if I was to call out, tell him there was no longer a need to toil as he did, I doubted he could hear. What was unfinished had taken its toll on him; eternity had become his prison.

Then he faded. All that was left was the light, mere moments, and then it too, was gone.

Long I sat on the wooden bench in front of the old railway station. The mist was clearing, the faint rush of human activity resonated through the warm spring air, and the birds began their morning songs. In each note I heard what was incomplete, unfinished and I remembered the solitary light.

Self pity no longer held me in its fray. Choices were within my power to make, not those of the past, but the future. The page had turned.

I would learn from what once was, and follow the radiance of every glorious new day.

My Mom turns 89 today. My brother turns 60 next month.

This picture was taken a few years ago- the porch we had built on our mobile home in Nova Scotia- decorated with antiques.

I'll refrain from antique jokes when referring to these inhabitants...

On this date....

The year: 1881.
The Place: Tombstone, Arizona
The OK Corral

The Wild West's most infamous shoot-out! And a place where, even in modern times, time stands still.

Always being fascinated with the paranormal this picture is more than a little interesting. A tourist dresses the part, stands in Boot Hill, and has his photo taken. But look carefully at the background....

http://www.clantongang.com/oldwest/ghost.htm

Travel back to the Wild West with the Lady Outlaws!!

Recycle. Reuse. Yeah, yeah. I do my part. I collect cardboard, break down cereal boxes, sort newspapers, bag plastic, rinse out the tin cans and head off to the recycle depot. I have my own composter. I changed light bulbs to the energy efficient ones and I turn off lights when not in the room.

BUT THERE ARE A FEW THINGS I WILL NOT DO... Despite being lectured by demanding voices on television adds.

I will NOT turn off the shower while soaping up! Get the water the right temperature, get lathered and turn off the tap?? Who does THAT???? I mean REALLY?

I will NOT use toilet paper that has been made from recycled paper. Have you felt that stuff?? Pass me some sand paper instead and I'll remove a layer of skin from my tender bits. Sheesh. Same for Kleenex. 2 ply only, preferably with the lotion. I've had too many "oh yuck" moments with that horrid one ply brittle stuff.

I will NOT mop up a spilled drink from the floor and wring it back into a glass. Yes, you read that correctly. There's an add on TV for a miracle mop... they spill a glass of coke, mop it up and squeeze it into a glass. "In today's economy who can afford to waste?" I CAN! Especially if it means using a mop previously used to wipe up pet hair and baby vomit. Ewwwwwww.

There are limits to everything. I draw the line... with a permanent marker!

1... My darling, my lover, my beautiful wife:Marrying you has screwed up my life.

2.. I see your face when I am dreaming.That's why I always wake up screaming.

3.. Kind, intelligent, loving and hot;This describes everything you are not.

4.. Love may be beautiful, love may be bliss,But I only slept with you 'cause I was pissed.

5.. I thought that I could love no other-- that is until I met your brother.

6.. Roses are red, violets are blue, sugar is sweet, and so are you.But the roses are wilting, the violets are dead, the sugar bowl'sempty and so is your head.

7.. I want to feel your sweet embrace;But don't take that paper bag off your face.

8.. I love your smile, your face, and your eyesDamn, I'm good at telling lies!

9.. My love, you take my breath away.What have you stepped in to smell this way?

10. My feelings for you no words can tell,Except for maybe 'Go to hell.'

11. What inspired this amorous rhyme?Two parts vodka, one part lime.

WHO SAID POETRY IS BORING

Authors like cats because they are such quiet, lovable, wise creatures, and cats like authors for the same reasons.

~ Robertson Davies

Are you tired of those piss weak 'friendship' poems that always sound good, but ne ver actually come close to reality? Well, here are a series of promises that actually speak of true friendship. You will see no cute little smiley faces on this card . Just the stone cold truth of a great friendship.
1. When you are sad -- I will help you get pissed and plot revenge against the bastard who made you sad.

2. When you are blue -- I will try to dislodge whatever is choking you.

3. When you smile -- I will know you are thinking of something that I would probably want to be involved in.

4. When you are scared -- I will take the piss out of you every chance I get until you're NOT.

5. When you are worried -- I will tell you stories about how much worse it could be until YOU STOP WHINING!

6. When you are confused -- I will try to use only little words.

7. When you are sick -- Stay the hell away from me until you are well again. I don't want whatever you have.

8. When you fall, I will laugh at you, you clumsy arse,
but I'll help you up.

9. This is my oath.... I pledge it to the end. 'Why?' you may ask;
Because you are my friend.

Look who had a birthday today!

I had a mammogram.

No one can say I don't know how to celebrate!

Yee-haw!

Okay. So romance is no longer a part of Absolute XPress. Why? In-house fighting between two men. Go figure.

But, unlike NCP, the editor has answered my concerns, and is willing to revert the rights to my books back to me if I so wish.
On the other hand, they might not be promoted on the Absolute website but they would continue to be sold as quoted: "Currently your books are available on amazon.com, All Romance eBooks and from My Bookstore And More."

Should I just leave as is? Might it better they be out there somewhere?
What do you think?

PISSED PISSED PISSED!

NO MORE ROMANCE, apparently.

Sound like I'm upset?? Oh, you have no idea. I am so angry I can hardly think straight.
Which is why I shall limit this post until I find out a few more facts except for now... guess what?

Look:http://absolute-x-press.com/

Do you see any romance titles? NO


All romance titles were suddenly dropped. Some authors- although not all (one found out via facebook) got an email filled with one liners. New manager is... No longer accepting romance... New website.... Books available at Amazon.... But AXP isn't promoting our titles. They aren't even hosting our covers. Yet, we're all stuck with a THREE YEAR CONTRACT.

Sound familiar?

Quite honestly I've had enough of e-publishing. I'm sick and tired of all the BullShit.