Beach Read: "Best Friends Help you Move the Body"

Well, patient readers, it's finally here!  Virginia is for Mysteries" has finally been printed!  I know, because I have 84 copies sitting here in my office.  But the public release date is January 2, 2014, in both trade paperback and e-versions.

This volume of 17 short mysteries sent throughout the state of Virginia is a great collection of stories.  Here's what advanced readers are saying:  "Virginia is for lovers...except when it's for killers crooks, and criminals."  ~ Mary Miley, author of The Impersonator

This anthology includes a short story penned by moi, titled, "Best Friends Help you Move the Body."  So here is the opening chapter, to get you intersted.  Then use the links posted on the side bar to purchase a copy of your very own to read what happens!   


“The Cape Henry Lighthouse silently guards the entryway into the Chesapeake Bay. Standing near the ‘First Landing’ site of the Jamestown settlers where in 1607 Captain Newport raised a cross to offer thanks for their safe crossing of the Atlantic, the Lighthouse has stood sentinel since it was completed in 1792.”

~ Preservation Virginia

“I could kill Stella Edwards by pushing her down these stairs.” Courtney Danvers’ voice echoed down to me from her position above. She was about a dozen feet higher on the iron steps circling around the inside of the Old Cape Henry Lighthouse in Virginia Beach.

Beach Fun: December Starter Sentence

<<'Tis the season!  And to get us in the mood my Writer's Guild started us off with "The tree we bought smelled great..." Oh what fun I had with this one!  Feel free to take pen in hand or fingers to keyboard and try it yourself!>>

The tree we bought smelled great.  Too bad I couldn’t say the same for whatever Mom was cooking in the oven.  She was practicing her “something red” dish for our upcoming holiday meal.  Unfortunately for us over the past year she’d discovered PINTEREST and thus had been, quote, “inspired” to try lots of new foods.

Beach Holidays: Thanksgiving!

<<In the spirit of the Thanksgiving holiday, I thought it appropriate to pluck from the annals of my military spouse newsletters a column I’d written about the finer points of table etiquette. It just goes to prove that I learn something new every day!>>

“Passing Directions…

Which Are in No Way Connected to Driving a Motor Vehicle.”

'Tis the season…for holiday gatherings which involve too much food and not enough etiquette, much like the one I recently experienced during a large gathering of our navy family.  There were twenty people seated around one long table, which had been festooned with Lenox China, Waterford crystal and more forks, knives and spoons than I knew what to do with.  But despite the formal setting, there were no butlers dancing attendance, so the meal was served “Family Style.”  This requires the passing of the food around the table for each diner to pile mountains of gastronomic pleasures onto their own plate.

Beach Writers: November Starter Sentence

<<For those of you new to my blog, every month my Writer's Guild gives a starter sentence and off we go writing a very short story. The part that got us started is in bold italics...feel free to use it to jump start your muses this holiday season!>>

     The turkey was delicious, but something tasted funny about the gravy.  Then all of a sudden Aunt Mable clutched at her throat then fell face down in her mashed potatoes.  We all stopped eating and stared at the dear old woman, watching as golden gravy oozed through her blue-tint hair.   Nobody rushed to her rescue, nobody reached over to pick her head out of her plate, nobody called 9-1-1.  In fact, nobody seemed dismayed in the least at this turn of events, just waited quietly for something else to happen.

     This was my first holiday with the Callahan clan. Was it part of their Thanksgiving tradition to have someone take a nose-dive into the feast? I looked across the table at my fiancé Mark.  Our eyes met.  Did I detect a twinkle in those baby blues? With great exaggeration he mouthed, “Wait for it.” Thirty seconds later, Aunt Mable popped her head up and yelled “April Fools!”  Everyone laughed and clapped and agreed that it’s cute when a one-hundred-and-three year old woman confuses her holidays.

You can read other guild members' musings here:  http://eastbeachwritersguild.blogspot.com/p/starter-sentences.html

The December starter sentence is: "The tree we bought smelled great..." Go ahead and give it a try yourself!

Beach Writers: October Starter Sentence

East Beach Writer's Guild got us started writing this month with " 'Twas the night before Halloween..."  As always, it was a fun challenge, and got me in the mood for the upcoming holiday! 

‘Twas the night before Halloween and a thick fog rolled in.  So thick, I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face, let alone the lamppost whose black paint had faded to a mottled grey, thanks to the constant sandblasting by the wind off the Chesapeake Bay.  So that’s how I ended up in the ER, with a goose egg on my forehead, on account of I’d been running, and smacked right into the damned thing.  “Why were you running in the fog?” one might ask. A valid question.

  

Beach Writers: September Starter Sentence

For the record, I NEVER hated writing.  But since Bill Watterson, the creator of Calvin and Hobbes, went to High School with me, I thought the cartoon appropriate to depict me doing my writing homework.  You see, as if I didn't have enough to do in my "real" life, I helped found a neighborhood writer's guild.  One of the challenges at each meeting is to write 2 paragraphs that follow a starter sentence.  The September prompt was "Last night while walking through East Beach..."  This is what my muses came up with.  

     Last night while walking through East Beach, a glint of white caught my eye.  There, peeking out through the mulch piled around Mrs. Dietrich’s Klems Hardy Gardenias.  I stopped and picked up a tile, about the size of a domino only twice as thick.  I turned the cool and smooth item in my hand as I walked.  Within a few steps I was near enough a streetlight to stop and inspect the tile closer.  Hmmm.  One side had markings.  Chinese characters, to be specific, in blood-red ink.  But having never taken a single lesson in Chinese, the symbols meant nothing to me. 

Beach Essay: WHAT I DID ON SUMMER VACATION...IN 1972

<<Cross-posted on Virginia Is for Mysteries blog August 10, 2013>>

The “educational” tag is SO over rated.  Especially when it comes to summer vacations.  My parents (a self-employed business man and an elementary school teacher) made it their mission to make sure we learned something over the summer break.  So while my friends were water skiing on Lake Michigan or riding donkeys down to bottom of the Grand Canyon or hanging out with Mickey & Minnie, my family was marching through the Smithsonian in DC or traipsing along the Freedom Trail in Boston or sitting/snoozing through historical lectures in the City of Brotherly Love. 

Did I have VA-CAY Envy?  You bet I did!

Virginia is for Mysteries Blog

Hey...I don't think I mentioned that the 14 Virginia Authors included in the Virginia is for Mysteries anthology have started a blog about all things Virginia and/or writing.  Today was my day to post something inspirational.  It took a lot of thinking...and waiting for inspiration to hit.  Finally, after three chocolate kisses, the muses were summoned and I came up with a little thing I like to (appropriately) call,  "What I Did on Summer Vacation...1971."  If you want to see a picture of 10-year-old me, then click here.    

Beach Craft: Life's a Beach

This is the view when you come in the back door of our little beach cottage.  So while life is not always a "vacation," at least every time it feels like one!

But this is what it looked like before I got crafty:

Beach Tale: The Hilarious Adventures of Dillon in Deagu

 

        Those of you of a certain vintage may remember the “I Love Lucy” episodes where Cousin Ernest (played by Tennessee Ernie Ford) comes for a visit.  So Country Bumpkin in the Big City makes for big laughs.  You can watch the entire episode here:  http://www.tv.com/shows/i-love-lucy/tennessee-ernie-visits-17131/

          It’s just as funny (in hindsight anyway) when a rather-sheltered young man heads off to see the world.  My son, like Lucy, is a red-head, which sometimes seems to equate for a magnet for troublesome situations.  You can’t help but laugh.  So I'm thinking I'll put my writing skills to work and develop a sitcom of my own.  I'll call it "The Hilarious Adventures of Dillon in Deagu".  All based on actual escapades of my son.  Like I say, I can laugh…now…

  

  Series Premier Episode:
          A two-suitcase limit is difficult for the most frugal of international travelers.  But packing for an entire year (possibly more) is not for the feint of heart.  My son Dillon (name changed to protect the innocent) faced that challenge in 2012. 

          Enter our main character, a young lad who thinks it necessary to include a year’s supply of soaps, shampoos, toothpastes and other essentials for his journey. That doesn't leave much room room left for clothes (starting with 45 of his favorite t-shirts) and posters and electronic devices, etc.   He shoves everything into two of the biggest rolling duffle bags (one bright red, one brilliant blue) that Lands End sells. I mean seriously, they are big enough to hide a dead body! (In fact, that gives me an idea!  Look for a body in a duffle in one of my upcoming mysteries!) 

Beach Tale: Home Sweet Home

 In the spirit of Earth Day 2013, it seems a fitting time to "recycle" one of my stories.  And in light of the fact I'm now a card-carrying member of the real estate-agent brigade, this story spoke to me on a different level.  It was originally posted on July 11, 2011 when this blog was in its infancy, so should be a "fresh" read for many of you.  Enjoy!    

         I’d read Jameson Lee Clemmons’ purchaser profile with interest and painted a mental image of a gracefully aging southern gentleman who resembled Colonel Sanders. No marital status was required when purchasing a house with cash, but if he showed up for our two o’clock appointment with no spouse in tow, I’d fix him up with my Aunt Meg up for dinner tomorrow night.  Maybe someday she’d return the favor.

          I hit the PRINT button on my computer and the laser jet wheezed to life at the same time the bell over the front door jangled. “Just a minute,” I called. Grabbing the stack of printouts of suitable properties, I headed for the reception area. “Can I help...” My words were replaced by the sound of a girlish giggle that bubbled forth. From me! But what red-blooded woman of child-bearing years wouldn’t have a similar reaction upon coming face to face with this sun-bronzed surfer type? Aged mid- to late-thirties, if I were to hazard a guess.  The perfect age for me!

          “I have an appointment with Tara Quinlan.”

          Even his voice had a sun-drenched tinge. “Jameson Lee Clemmons?” I squeaked.

          “Just J.C. please.”

         

Beach Tale: Mystery by the Sea

Are you an aspiring Nancy Drew?  Have you always wanted  to assemble clues and figure out whodunit?  Here is your chance.  This short story has all of the clues, you just need to puzzle them together to find out who the guilty party is.  The solution is at the end.  Happy Sleuthing!

“Mystery By the Sea"

A Sleuth-It Yourself Mystery”

          Thank goodness for the ocean breeze, I thought as I finished my walk and crossed the sand towards home.  The thermometer had topped out at 102 degrees a few hours ago.  The trek along the shore with waves bubbling at my ankles and bay breezes blowing over my skin had cooled me off and re-energized my mind and body. I felt ready to get back to work.  As I headed for the stairs that led up to my carriage house apartment, the elderly woman who lived in the main house came running to meet me.

          “Cassie, I need your help,” Mrs. Williamson said, wringing her hands in that nervous way she had.

          “What’s wrong?”

          “My ruby and sapphire necklace, the one given to my great-great-grandmother by a crowned prince in Europe, has been stolen.  And the thief is in my house right now!”

Beach Tale: Carriage House Reveal!

A dear friend who currently lives in America’s heartland (waving atcha Linda H!) gently reminded me that I had NEVER posted the finished pictures of our carriage house construction project! 

For those of you new to this blog, last summer my husband and I donned our General Contractor hats and oversaw the completion of a 484-square-foot carriage house over our 2-car detached garage.  It was a learning lesson on ooohhhhh, so many levels, but we completed it in time for the Holiday Season.  So far we have been honored to have guests stay there and enjoy the beach lifestyle.  Upon our son's return home from his southeast Asia walkabout, he'll hunker down for a bit.  Then the big plan is to turn it over to renters to generate a little income to pad our retirement pay.  

But the important thing is, it is DONE and turned out very nice, if I do say so myself.  So upon the urging of my aforementioned friend I snapped a few pictures while it is still in its relative newness (bound to change after son takes up residence...) and am posting them for those of you curious as to how the project turned out.

So, this is where we started, with steps....

leading up to this....

And now, after a huge investment of time, energy, sweat, and money, (<<Drumroll please.....>>we have this:

Beach Tale: The Sniper Sisters

It's rerun season here at the Life's a Beach Blog as my life priorities continue to weigh on the Real Estate Side.  But Friday returns with fresh content and a great beach chat and I'll be back in my writing chair from then on. But today it's a rerun.  Not just any rerun, mind you, but the very first "mystery" I ever wrote!  It has a special place in my heart and I wanted to share it with all of my new followers who have joined the rolls since the story was last published in October, 2011.  And those of you who have already read it might enjoy it again! So here's a little story I like to call...

The Sniper Sisters

 

      “It’s my turn to pull the trigger.”  Evie straddled the large fallen tree blocking the trail.  With a grunt, she hauled her left leg over and set both sensibly-clad feet on the ground, enjoying a moment’s rest as her older-by-three-minutes sister Dot struggled with the obstacle.

          “No, you knocked off Marty Knudsen last week, remember?”  Dot executed an awkward belly roll over the log, momentum carrying her until she landed in a pile of damp, decomposing leaves at Evie’s feet.

          “Of course I remember,” Evie snarled.  “Direct hit to his heart.  But you got the three before that.”  

          “Only because your shot on Alma Schaeffer went wide and took out Cuddles McGee instead.”           

          “It didn’t go wide.  I meant to shoot that damn cat.  It left two more goldfinches on my doorstep that morning.”

          Dot struggled to her feet in the wobbly, ungainly manner of a camel, then brushed the dirt off her knees.  “If I hadn’t acted quickly to take Alma out, she would have gotten us first.  You were taking too long to reload.  Not my fault you screwed up your turn.”

Beach Excerpt: THE BLOND LEADING THE BLOND

          If you are a facebook friend of mine, then you are aware that for these first three weeks in March I am involved in an INTENSE Principals of Real Estate class, which should (if all goes well) prepare me enough to pass the national exam and get my agent's license.  To that end, there is no writing go on here.  And by that I mean, no writing of any sort.  No books, no stories, no emails and especially no blog posts.  I did have the foresight to book my beach chat guests, but didn't really think about putting fingers to keyboard for my own posts.  So, I'm "cheating" a little bit by offering up an excerpt of The Blond Leading the Blond.  This is from the end of chapter four, and is written in the first person of Ellery Tinsdale, an amateur sleuth--and a most reluctant one at that--as she gets to know some of her new neighbors in Braddocks Beach, Ohio.  Enjoy!

          We ate.  We talked.  We laughed.  A lot.  Sam only had to coach me one more time on my manners. “Corn should be eaten left to right, like a typewriter,” she’d whispered in my ear when racing off to greet some late-arriving guests. Who’d a thunk? She buzzed back to our table, and with her once again seated across from me, I didn’t dare lick the basil butter from my fingers. “If you’ll excuse me for a minute.” I climbed out from under the picnic table. My dinner companions nodded. George and Doodles stood up when I did, after I felt Sam kick George under the table, that is. I was glad I wasn’t the only one who needed prompting when it came to all things mannerly.

Beach Tale: YARD OF THE MONTH

          My first gardening catalog came addressed to “Robert S. Jones or Current Resident.” That was me--Current Resident.  We’d just made our fourth move in two years in conjunction with my husband’s Naval career.  His orders were for twenty-four months.  Long enough to plant perennials.      

          I thought a showed a great deal of restraint when I limited myself to a $500 order.  A rainbow of reds, blues and yellows.  A variety of curious textures.   My home would stand out from the others in this newly-constructed cookie-cutter neighborhood.  Okay, so I would eat nothing but macaroni and cheese for two months, but with the Yard of the Month awarded by my neighborhood association came a $50 gift certificate to the hardware store, so it would offset the scales a bit.  And based on the glossy pictures of what my gardens would look like, I was a sure winner.

Beach Eats: EXPENSIVE COOKIE LESSON

<<Fourth in a continuing series exploring the tastes, histories and crafts of favorite food items mentioned in THE BLONDS AT THE BEACH Mystery Series…>>

          Sam disconnected <<the phone call>> and turned to me.  “Polly says she’ll tell us if you’ll give her your Aunt Izzy’s secret recipe for Chocolate-Chip Cookies.”

          “What secret recipe?”

          “A recipe for the hands-down best chocolate-chip cookies on earth.  It was Mizizzy’s trademark dish, what she brought to every potluck.  Nobody could ever duplicate the recipe, and your aunt guarded the secret the way Coca-Cola keeps a lid on their ingredients.  Polly wants to bake the cookies and sell them warm from the oven.  Unless you intend to take that over as your signature dish.”

          “I don’t bake,” I reminded her.  “I’m a really good eater, though.”

~Excerpted from BLOND FAITH

  

Beach Valentine's Day-Hot Chocolate to DIE for!!!!

Ah, tis the day to celebrate LOVE!  AND CHOCOLATE!

And why do love and chocolate go together?  Research has discovered that “Chocolate gets right to the heart of sexual pleasure by increasing the brain’s level of serotonin, the feel-good brain chemical. Serotonin plays a major role in positive mood, emotional health, proper sleep and balanced appetite, contributing to numerous behavioral and physiological functions.”

So if you're in need of a dose of serotonin, along with the best feel-good drink around, try this one for Chocolate Hecho à la Espalola , which translated means “The Spanish made chocolate.”  But what it really means is “drinkable melted chocolate that will make you feel wicked and divine and goooo-ooo—ood!”

Chocolate Hecho à la Espanola

4 -1/2 cups whole milk (divided)

1 pound semisweet chocolate (I used Ghirardelli)
      broken into bits

1 tablespoon cornstarch

¼ cup sugar

½ cup fresh whipped cream

Bring 4 cups milk to a boil over high heat.  Remove pan from heat and add chocolate and sugar.  Stir regularly until chocolate is melted.

Mix cornstarch with remaining ½ cup milk.  Stir into chocolate.  Return to heat and stir until thickened, approximately 10-20 minutes.

Serve hot and topped with a dollop of whipped cream.

Beach Eats: PIE À LA MODE

<<Third in a continuing series exploring the tastes, histories and crafts of favorite food items mentioned in THE BLOND LEADING THE BLOND…>>

          “Be it apple or humble, pie should always be served à la mode,” the woman tempted me.

          I hesitated, thinking about my half-diet and wondering if I’d rather limit myself to one full piece of pie without ice cream or one half of a piece with creamy vanilla melting over it. 

          ~Excerpted from The Blond Leading the Blond 

           Which “foodies” amongst us hasn’t heard the story about the invention of the Sandwich? Well, not so much the “invention” of as the naming of it.  I’ll save you a Google search:  While the idea of tucking meat between slices or on top of slices of bread (in lieu of plates) had been around for a while, it wasn’t until the late 18^th century that the term sandwich was coined.   The 4^th Earl of Sandwich was fond of asking his valet to bring him meat tucked between two pieces of bread, enabling him to continue to play cards while eating the meat.  As you probably realize, eating meat without cutlery left your hands messy, so this was a perfect solution.  Others at the table would say “Bring me what Sandwich has,” and the rest, as they say, is food-naming history.

          But very few people know the story behind the naming of Pie à la Mode.

          Many people mistakenly think that à la mode is French for “with ice cream.”  Nothing is further from the truth.  It means “to the modern” or more loosely, “how fashionable.”

          So how did pie with a dollop of vanilla ice cream on top become to be named à la mode? 

Beach Eats: THE BIG FIG NEWTON

<<This is second in a continuing series exploring the histories and crafts of favorite food items mentioned in THE BLOND LEADING THE BLOND…>>

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Sam asked as we exited the dimness of Flossie’s Pharmacy.  I squinted against the sunlight of a glorious summer’s morn.  The three Fig Newtons I’d stuffed in my mouth prevented me from answering, but I figured it was a rhetorical question, anyway.  I was right.

~Excerpted from The Blond Leading the Blond 

          Raise your hand if you thought the Fig Newton was named after that Apple-to-the-Head guy.  You know, Sir Isaac Newton, the brilliant man who first proposed the laws of gravity. Yeah, me too.  But in my research for this food-related topic I learned something quite different. 

Beach Musings: A Rose by any other name can always be changed…

          If you have a character named Rose and need to change it, it’s a simple as using the find and replace function in Word.  How do I know this?  Because I just changed the names of four characters in my latest WIP (that’s Work In Progress for those of you not fluent in writer-speak.)  Is a character’s name important?  You betcha! 

          I love the writerly life.  Well, most of the time.  But it’s a challenge for me to name characters.  Like most writers I know, I have in my writing toolbox a dog-eared copy of The Very Best Baby Name Book in the Whole Wide World.  I use it find good first names for my characters.  Back in the old days I also had a copy of the White Pages on hand so I could thumb through and find the perfect last name to go with the first name.  When’s the last time you saw a copy of the White Pages?  Yeah, it’s been a while for me, too.  The online version is not the same because you can’t just skim it but have to give it a name to look for.  Sigh.  Technology is making my job more difficult.

Beach Beverage: Hot Buttered Rum

Snow on the Water

As the snow fell gently this weekend here in the southeastern portion of Virginia (the first—and hopefully last—snowfall of the year!) it was a great opportunity to curl up by the fire with a hot toddy in hand.  The Ormerod favorite beverage to do that with is a Hot Buttered Rum.  As often happens, my real life overflows into my characters lives and the scene I wrote today had them drinking hot buttered rums.  Aha! I thought to myself.  A perfect blog topic, too! 

So here is the official Ormerod Family Hot Buttered Rum recipe, passed down through the generations.  Enjoy!

To Blog or Not To Blog…That Is the Question

I just did the math…over the course of the life of this blog (still a “baby” at 18 months old), I have written 162 blog posts.  I’ve tried my best to post three times a week.  So at an average of 900 words a post, that equals 145,800 words.  That’s two-and-one-half books.  How many books have I written in that same period of time?  ZERO!  So it occurs to me if I am going to be successful in this business I had best put fingers to keyboard and write more books and less blogs. 

So please bear with me as my posts are a bit erratic over the next few weeks as I try to set the fulcrum at just the right spot to balance writing and blogging.  But rest assured there is plenty of BITCh (that’s Butt In The CHair) time going on here!  I’ve typed THE END to a novella, which is about 20,000 words or about 1/3 (maybe a wee bit less) the size of a novel.  I’m on the deep editing stage.  It should be off to my critique partners by the end of the month, then on to an editor then released into the world.  I don’t mean to be a tease, but here is the opening line to Behind the Blue Door:  230 Periwinkle Lane:

“You’ll never guess what happened to Mudge!”

Hate to keep you guessing but I’m hurrying to get it done.  I promise.  I'll be back soon with another blog post.  

Beach Inspirations: Sorry, Wrong Number

          As discussed before I don’t have to go out looking for inspiration for stories, inspiration comes to me.  I call this one, “Sorry, wrong number.”

          A few days ago my cell phone rang. It wasn’t a number I recognized and so I let it go to voice mail.  The person called back again immediately, so I figured he had the wrong number so I answered it to tell him so.  He said okay. The cell phone rang again from the same number and I let it go to voicemail.  I didn’t bother checking the message.

          That night about nine o’clock the same exact routine happened.  Even though I told the guy he had the wrong number, he still called back.  And again he left a voice mail.

          Curious, I listened to both voicemails.  The tone was angry and threatening.  Yikes, I thought.  Then I reached for a pencil and wrote them down word for word as they inspired an idea for a future novel.  Here they are, maybe they’ll spark a story idea for you, too.  (Caveat:  names have been changed to protect the innocent…and guilty…)

Beach Tale: Navy SEALS

A True Story from the Military Spouse Trenches

          Laden with pictures of my husband’s latest naval assignment onboard an amphibious assault ship, I returned to my landlocked (and Navy-ignorant) hometown prepared to brag about our exciting Navy life.  One day at lunch with my parent’s friends, I proudly showed off the pictures of the ship and explained, in what I thought were layman’s terms, about the floodable well deck in the back which opened up and filled with water, enabling sea-going equipment to float in and out as needed.   

Beach Inspirations: Where I Find Story Ideas

          One of the top questions I get asked by readers is, “Where do you get your inspiration for stories?”  The easier question to answer is, ”Where DON’T I find inspiration?”  Everything I see I wonder what the story behind it is.  It’s all about asking a few questions and then making up the answers.    

          Say you’re walking down the street of your small Midwestern town and notice that the large clock atop the town hall has stopped working.  So you ask yourself when and why did it stop?  A writer might (and one did) wonder if it had been struck by lightening.  Hence the time it had been struck was preserved for future generations to cogitate about.  That begs the question, if someone were to travel back in time and needed to harness a huge amount of energy, they would know what time the clock was struck and arrange to be there when lightning struck.  Hence with a few questions and a little imagination, you could have written Back to the Future.  And you would have made a little bit of money doing so, too. 

Beach Chow: Milano Cookie Sheep

Source:  ediblecrafts.craftgossip.com  

Excerpt from The Blond Leading the Blond: 

          The pantry held a treasure trove of snacks.  My gaze flitted from cereal shelf to canned vegetables shelf to crunchy snacks shelf and then, lo and behold, a dessert shelf.  Lined up in alphabetical order was the entire line of Pepperidge Farm Milano cookies:  Double Chocolate, Milk Chocolate, Mint, Orange and Raspberry.  I gasped with the realization that Aunt Izzy was alive.  Not “alive” in the physical sense, in that she’d been pirated away in the witness protection program somewhere, and another woman’s face had been beaten beyond recognition, or even the paranormal sense in that her spirit would be dragging chains down the stairs or moaning at all hours of the night.  I  meant alive in that she was not a glossy photograph but a real flesh-and-blood woman who had lived and breathed and loved and shared her DNA.  With me.

          We had the same cookie-loving gene. 

Beach Resolution: The Year of The Blonds

First off, HAPPY NEW YEAR to all of my family, friends and faithful readers. 

According to the Chinese calendar, the Year of the Dragon will end on February 10^th and we’ll move into the Year of the Snake. I don’t know who is in charge of those declarations or in our own country’s proclamations or decrees, but I’m going to find out.  I want to declare 2013 THE YEAR OF THE BLONDS.  I think it could be a big year for Ellery and Sam and I vow to do whatever is necessary (well, within reason) to get my second literary baby, BLOND FAITH, published and available to my reading public. I also will get book three, BLOND JUSTICE, written with the goal of a 2014 release.  It is about ¼ done, and has been that way for about 1-1/2 years.