Tuesday, November 23, 2010
TWAS THE NIGHT OF THANKSGIVING,
BUT I JUST COULDN'T SLEEP.
I TRIED COUNTING BACKWARDS,
I TRIED COUNTING SHEEP.
THE LEFTOVERS BECKONED -
THE DARK MEAT AND WHITE,
BUT I FOUGHT THE TEMPTATION
WITH ALL OF MY MIGHT.
TOSSING AND TURNING WITH ANTICIPATION,
THE THOUGHT OF A SNACK BECAME INFATUATION.
SO, I RACED TO THE KITCHEN, FLUNG OPEN THE DOOR,
AND GAZED AT THE FRIDGE, FULL OF GOODIES GALORE.
GOBBLED UP TURKEY AND BUTTERED POTATOES,
PICKLES AND CARROTS, BEANS AND TOMATOES.
I FELT MYSELF SWELLING SO PLUMP AND SO ROUND,
'TIL ALL OF A SUDDEN, I ROSE OFF THE GROUND.
I CRASHED THROUGH THE CEILING, FLOATING INTO THE SKY,
WITH A MOUTHFUL OF PUDDING AND A HANDFUL OF PIE.
BUT, I MANAGED TO YELL AS I SOARED PAST THE TREES....
HAPPY EATING TO ALL - PASS THE CRANBERRIES, PLEASE.
MAY YOUR STUFFING BE TASTY,
MAY YOUR TURKEY BE PLUMP.
MAY YOUR POTATOES 'N GRAVY HAVE NARY A LUMP.
MAY YOUR YAMS BE DELICIOUS.
MAY YOUR PIES TAKE THE PRIZE,
MAY YOUR THANKSGIVING DINNER STAY OFF OF YOUR THIGHS!!
HAPPY THANKSGIVING TO ALL
at 5:15 AM
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Today I am posting an extract from A Fatal Flaw - enjoy!
She was standing by the window, her arm hanging down at her side, a gun held limply in her right hand. The still hot handle of the gun burned into her palm like a branding iron. Irrationally she thought of the cliché, a smoking gun in her hand
Through the huge plate glass window she watched the rain beating against the pane beading – saw it pouring water, like tiny waterfalls, down the glass. Furiously it bashed the colourful plants and dripped from the pine tree.
In the distance she heard the wail of sirens. The police. Tucking the gun in her waist band she took from her pocket a remote control, activated it and the plate glass window slid open. Stealthily she slipped through it, pausing only to zap it closed behind her. The cops would not be able to activate the window without the remote. It would give her more time.
The ground was boggy, her feet slid in up to her ankles; wading through the mess she reached the edge of the lake, it was the only way to leave. Swim the lake, get to the other side. The streets would be too risky, she could be seen by neighbours, or even run into the police. The lake seemed the best bet though she knew an alligator rested in its murky depths. She remembered it as a small one – still it could do her damage and who was to say another had not moved in.
Alligator, police? It was no contest. She waded into the water, shocked at how chilly it felt against her bare legs. When it was deep enough she struck out and started to swim.
Somehow the blood was pounding through her, a charge of adrenalin combined with fear, giving her the ability to cut through the water; she was swimming like she was Esther Williams. Now and again something slimy slid between her legs, or snaked down her legs, only fear motivated her to keep moving. If it was slimy and not hard it was not going to be a huge reptile with a gigantic appetite.
Reaching the other side, she slid up the muddy bank, almost sliding back down the thick oozing mud and into the water. Gripping the thick glutinous stuff, she dragged herself on her belly, not even getting up when she reached soggy grass. She crawled and slithered like a snake until she reached the dense wood, then rolled into its welcoming cover.
The woods were thick with ground cover as well as tall trees; wild prickly plants tore at her legs. A warm wetness started to drip down to the inside of her trainer. Touching her leg she realized she had cuts and the dripping wetness was blood. As she stood a spiteful, thorn covered branch tore into her long hair.
It was so dark in the wood, she doubted she would find her way; there were swamps to be avoided and the rain and starless sky did not help. Looking back, peering through the trees she saw a shaft of light. The cops had reached the house; they had gone in and turned on all the lights. It was the impetus she needed. Florida still had the death penalty. She had to get away; there was no turning back…ever!
at 6:33 AM
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Do you have "friends" in your novels, are they good friends? I know the essence of the romance is the love story but you can include friends as well, just so long as they don't take over the whole story. The stubborn Elizabeth Mary in The Substitute Bride, would be lost without her companion. Yes, the girl is her maid, but she is also Elizabeth's best friend and Elizabeth knows it. Kate in Dangerous Enchantment has an unusual good friend, and that is the male character's mother. Those who have read A Saxon Tapestry know that Alfled would really suffer had it not been for her friend and maid, Hild.
Thinking about this subject had me reflecting on my friendships I am very lucky in my friends they are wonderful people, and their friendship has recently been tested to the limit. But there are other friends too - friends you don't often see, or come to that friends you have never seen!
Fifty years ago I started a correspondence with a young man who was serving in the US Amy in Germany. I confess to being a bit giddy in those years, but George was the one person with whom I could be serious. By that I mean exchanging views on literature and the arts. He was the only person I could be that way with and we exchanged many letters over the years. We lost touch, as you do, but recently I found George on facebook. This was amazing. My inspiration for seeking him out was a stack of letters I found when clearing out the bottom of my filing cabinet (you don't want to go in there believe me). I found him right away. Amazing.
I think it proves that you don't have to meet someone to be a friend and you don't have to see them regularly. Frienship comes from sharing ideas, liking similar things and most of all being able to express your thoughts and feelings. Wonderful.
at 4:43 AM