It's all about the dance

This has been a strange week and I apologize for going so long without a post. We lost a friend, a young man who fought for our country. Though he died here in the states, I still consider his death a casualty of war in a way. It's funny though how we deal with grief differently. Two nights after his passing, we consoled his best friend. A group of young folks gathered at her home and when we got there, they were dancing. Her circle of friends were doing all they could to lift her spirits. So - we danced with them. Every other song we danced and in between we cried and spoke of memories, the good kind that sealed his essence in our hearts.

That was Friday.

Today, I've been reminiscing about my own life and trying to recall where I was when I was his age. I have students who come to my class during lunch, and today, they wanted to dance. So they did line dances and urged me to join in. Of course, I don't know the new ones but I learned the Wobble. They got a kick out of my attempts and so did I, but I tried to tell them about the line dances we did when I was their age. The main two were the Cotton Eyed Joe and the Schottische. Later, we also added the Freeze.  But we danced the Freeze to a song by a different title so tonight I spent the better part of an hour trying to remember the song. Very appropriate that it was titled "I Still Remember" by Dan Hartman. I was very dissappointed to discover it wasn't available on itunes. But I did find it on youtube.


This post is for those that need to remember. To remember to live, to love and to laugh. Miss you, Mike.

I'm booked for life!

Hubby just got through building my seventh bookshelf. OMG, it's absolutely gorious. Covered all in cedar planks, it smells divine as well. So the first picture looks just like a door to a closet and that's what it is. We covered the entire room with the knotty pine including the ceiling and it has a warm, cozy feel to it. You can also see shelves to the side (yep, more book shelves!)

A writer can never have too many books. I'm addicted to rummaging through Half Price Books for any type of resource book. I have books on Indians, Texas Rangers, vikings, astrology, how to read dreams, language dictionaries, rigging a sailboat, medicinal plants, etc. Have I read them all? Well, no. I've read parts of them all and I figure I'll have tons of time when I retire.
Sure, the Internet is great for research but you'd be amazed at what you still can't find by going to the web. In that respect, ebooks haven't totally taken over - yet. As much as I love my kindle, using bound books for research is still a lot easier in my opinion.

So yeah, I'm excited to have my seventh bookshelf. As you can see, I still have room to add more books. And yes the other six bookshelves are equally filled. Of course not all are research books. I do have a few of these shelves committed to my favorite authors.

Excerpt from On Timeless Wings of Gold

With so much going on this week, I figured I'd just share a snippet from my latest. Enjoy an excerpt for On Timeless Wings of Gold:

“You said earlier, that when you escape you’d not come back no matter the cost. I know you have a plan.” Her mind raced with plans for leaving. She knew enough about survival to risk the inherent dangers, but where would she go?

          “You wear your thoughts for all to see. You’ll do naught to bring danger to this house. Do you ken?”

          She gave him an innocent shrug. “I can’t just do nothing. Escape isn’t so farfetched an idea, especially if we work together.”

          “Nay.” He jumped to his feet and grabbed hold of her arm. “I’ll hear no more talk of such.”

          “Unhand me, or I’ll lay you low like I did your Viking friend.”

          “I welcome your attempt to try.”

          She shivered. Apprehension warred with desire.

Desire? Where had that thought come from? She needed to be free from his hold, free from her budding awareness of him as a man.

          “Please take your hands from me,” she demanded again, her voice less steady. She couldn’t back down, and he wouldn’t back down. They were at an impasse, and it didn’t look like he was one for compromise.

          “Answer me, first.”

          She tried to pull away. “I won’t make promises I don’t intend to keep. I’m old enough to make decisions for myself, and I certainly don’t need some self-assured male with an ego problem to dictate to me. Now, drop your hands from my person, bud.”

          Tension mounted, sizzling into a more heated emotion. Slowly the anger faded from his face, replaced by a lustful smoldering. Instead of loosening his hold, his hands tightened, and he drew her closer, gentling his touch. “Nay. I think I like my hands upon your person.”

          His voice dropped to a low, mesmerizing pitch, a silky invitation designed to break through her resolve. She licked dry lips. When had she lost control of the situation?

          She didn’t dare knee him in the groin as she wanted, but she had to let this oaf know she could be as stubborn and determined as he. In a maneuver made difficult by the overlarge shirt she wore, she managed to elbow him in the stomach. Her actions proved unwise. Pain shot through her funny bone. The man’s stomach was as hard as the stone floor.

          “Ach, sweet angel. I should no’ care what happens to you, but I do. I’ve forced my will upon you, and ’tis no’ the way I meant for this morn to begin.” He dropped his hands.

          She rubbed her arms. He wanted to impose his will upon her but when thwarted would claim nonchalance with an I-don’t-care attitude. He didn’t like losing.

          “Ye’ll no’ be surprised when I do all I can to see you do no’ escape. You will no’ have an easy time of it, for I mean to have my way. Alas, I can think of no better way to pass the time. ’Twill be a fine game for the two of us to play. No’ friends, no’ lovers, no’ enemies, but adversaries, nonetheless. I look forward to the diversion.”

Bretzeli

I attended a wonderful workshop yesterday led by Mark Buckham and if you've never taken one of her workshops, you are missing out on great information. I came home and immediately rewrote my first chapter for the historical western I'm drafting. Got my hooks all in place and ready to wow my readers. (big grin).

As it was an all day workshop, we were asked to bring a treat for lunch. I spent half a day Friday baking bretzelies and as they were a huge hit, I had several ask for the recipe and information on the iron. This was a cookie my great grandmother made. She brought the recipe from Switzerland and used an iron that had to be placed in the coals, a very time-consuming process I imagine. My grandmother carried on the tradition but used an electric iron. The last one she bought came from a company in Wisconsin. The cookie is also known as a bratzeli, bricelet or cracknel. Of course she bought her iron in 1976, but I did find a company in Wisconsin that still sells them. You can check it out here.

My grandmother's recipe is very similar to the one that's printed on the iron I have.

Bretzeli Cookies

½ ib sweet cream butter (unsalted)

2 ¼  cups sugar

4 eggs slightly beaten

4 ¼ cups flour

Grated rind of 1 lemon

Juice of ½ lemon (plus a few drops)

Pinch of salt added to eggs

Cream sugar and butter in rather large bowl. Add slightly beaten eggs with salt added. Add grated rind & lemon juice. Mix well. Add flour, one cup at a time, and mix well until forms a large ball. Cover & place in refrigerator overnight or at least for 3 to 4 hours.

Flour hands well before rolling dough into small balls, a tad larger than the size of a marble.  Flour hands often as necessary to avoid sticking to hands.

Preheat iron about 10 – 15 minutes & begin baking 4 balls at a time, placing one in each design section. Close iron and press handles together very slightly. Count to 21 (no more than 25 depending on iron) and about the rate your heart beats. Remove light, golden-brown cookies from iron with table knife or wooden spatula provided with iron. Repeat until all are baked.

Cool well then store in air-tight container. These Swiss cookies improve with age and will keep up to three weeks without tasting stale. Recipe makes 14 – 15 dozen cookies.

Trick: When I bake the cookies, I lay out two cookie sheets next to iron. When they come out hot, I place on one cookie sheet. As the cool, I move them to second cookie sheet to make room for the next batch on the first cookie sheet. When they completely cool, I stack them on the end of the second cookie sheet, still leaving room to the rotation of semi-cool cookies. I suggest you have a helper the first or second time you bake these. Mom and I used to make them together and I remember the fun we had. Now, I do them by myself and it takes about an hour to bake them all. Another trick is to make the balls small enough that they come out pretty. Mom always made them too big and we’d have to trim the edges to make them pretty.

C is for conflict

When I say conflict, I imagine the first thing most writer's think about is the conflict between the hero and heroine or the conflict between an antagonist and the protagonist, but today, I'm talking about the a more personal conflict.

I have eleven books out now, which considering my schedule, is quite a feat. With two jobs and a family, squeezing in writing time has become a challenge but I'm addicted so.... I guess as long as I'm able, I'll continue to write.

But I've sorta come to a crossroads. With this new year, I'm conflicted about the direction I should take - both with the genre and with my career as a whole. Because of my hectic life, I elected to stay with one publisher. They've been great to me, publishing anything I send their way. Why would I want to change? Most writers publish with more than one publisher because it truly broadens their readership. In order to submit to another house, though, it means drafting the dreaded query letter and synopsis. All good things to consider.

And then there's the genre. I've dabbled in just about every genre except contemporary and yes, I do have a contemporary story floating around in my head. My heart lies with historical western, but my best sellers are in the sci-fi - fantasy realm.

I guess my true internal conflict is deciding what I want from my writing career. Do I want fame and riches? Or do I just want to write a damn good story and make those that like my type of story happy? I tend to lean toward the second as I've always done. I've never been one to really worry over sells and such, but heck, wouldn't it be nice to have both?

Discover wonderful ROMANCE from these AMAZING authors.

To help spread the word on new and old titles, a group of authors are opening up their blogs to other authors, allowing them to post blurbs and buy link information on their various titles. If you are a guest blogger and would like to post your blurb in the comments section, feel free but please keep the blurb PG13 and for those that do post, your submission gives me permission to reciprocate in kind. Think of this as a day-long massive blog hop. What I need: your PG13 blurb, a buy link and your blog url.

For subscribers and readers, what better way to ring in the new year than to introduce you to a wonderful cast of writers with a varied menu to choose from. Bon appetit!

To begin the blurb hop, I am posting two of my most recent books. I look forward to seeing whate everyone else will post. Enjoy:

On Timeless Wings of Gold:

They say an eclipse yields a powerful force, an energy that can be harnessed by those with magic in their souls. On such a day when the sun disappears behind the shadow of the Earth, a mighty wizard evokes the elements of nature. With ancient, Celtic incantations, he sends an angel upon the wings of time to tempt a fallen king.

Angel Cashion is struggling to make ends meet and saving for when she can own her own repair shop in hopes of fighting her ex for custody of their daughter, but she is whisked away from home by a quirk of fate. Torin O’Faelain has spent the past two years enslaved by Vikings. A man of strong principles, Torin is committed to finding his way back to his native land and nothing will stand in his way, not even an angel from the future, but love and fate intervene.

BUY LINKS; Kindle or other formats

The Keeper of Moon Haven

On the southern fringes of the Mendip Hills sits the Castle Hamingjur, an abandoned structure most fear haunted. Yet, on the rare occasions when the Hunter’s Blue Moon occurs, the Keeper occupies this mysterious castle where he guards the bridge to Alfheim Haven.

Noreen Willshire discovers more than fairytales hidden between the pages of Beletania’s diary. She opens the ancient book and finds a pathway to a Faery Realm where all manner of mythical creatures reside. In her naïveté, she summons the Keeper before his scheduled time in the human realm. In that brief moment, the mysterious wizard touches her soul with more than magick. She promises to return the diary during Mefylleth, a time when the barriers between the two realms melt away, but danger stalks her path. Torn between her desire to make a new life for herself in America and her growing love for the Keeper, she must bridge the gap between magick and time to follow her heart.

BUY LINKS: Kindle or other formats

Sagging Middle Woes

And no I'm not talking about my spare tire though I probably do need to make dieting top priority on my New Year's resolution list. Ugh.
I'm talking about the middle of the story that usually has writers pulling their teeth, their hair and anything else worth pulling. I'm a pantser, a term fondly applied to writers who pen manuscripts by the seat of their pants with little to no structured planning. Yep, that's me.

I'm working on a book now that has my muse screaming in frustration, but I know why. This is the first book I've done where I've written the sagging middle before the lead-up that follows the beginning. In essence, I wrote the beginning with no trouble. And then I rewrote the beginning. And then I rewrote the beginning again. I've rewritten the beginning five times now. But I'm happy with the fifth attempt. However, in doing this, I jumped into the sagging middle and floundered.

To make the story flow better, I just kept adding meat and cheese, sandwiching in scenes that happen before the middle. When I finally got it all put together, I realized I'd written that middle section first. Doing so kept this part far from sagging. I think the flavors all mesh now and I've written the perfect hamburger. I just need to put the ending bun on top and I'll be finished. Dinner served.Yay! (oh wait, what happened to that diet I just talked about?)

So what do I do to keep the middle from falling flat? First, I try to include foreshadowing and hooks throughout the beginning that have to be addressed along the way. Second, when I put my characters into situations where they have to react, I try to figure out more than one direction for them to go. I try to throw out the first solution because if I thought of it right off the bat, it will probably be the solution readers are expecting. I want to give them the unexpected if possible. Third, I try to keep those pages full of action. If it sags too much, kill a character. Ha ha. And if you can't kill 'em, put your hero or heroine into yet another impossible situation. But in all honesty, to sustain a story from beginning to end without the sagging middle, a writer has to have well developed characters with internal and external conflicts that drive the story forward. Without goal, motivation and conflict, it's hard to have a story at all.

I have 47,000 words written and am pretty much done with the middle. I'm now at the crucial black moment. This will be a difficult section to draft. My story takes place at the beginning of a hurricane and while I want to keep the facts as true to the real event as possible, I don't want folks to die. Unfortunately, folks did die in this tragic hurricane. I'm currently doing a ton of research on Indianola, TX, a ghost town that was once a city to rival that of Galveston. At the time my story takes place, the port town boasted a population of about 5000.