DRIVEN 2 DANGER

Terrific Temptation

2012-02-07T06:49:00.000-08:00

I stumbled on this terrific temptation yesterday as I was supposed to be preparing for my guest posting responsibilities at Curse of the Bibliophile. The guest post before mine offered the chance to win a $50 Amazon gift card! See Kimberly's pitch below. I bet you can't resist either!

Kimberly's Bloomin' Reviews

Blossoming Blogger Giveaway

In order to help my blog "blossom", I've decided to host a Giveaway! One lucky winner will win a $50.00 Amazon Gift Card! That's right, $50.00... Free! Why? I have several opportunities for upcoming product/book reviews and giveaways, and followers are an essential part of the process. Yes, it's all about the numbers but who doesn't like free stuff? So please, take a few moments and help my blog "blossom"!

Entry Guidelines:

1. Follow my blog

2. Post about this giveaway on your own blog with a link to this post

To be entered, you must complete both requirements and leave a comment here with a link to your post as well as how to contact you if you should win.

I'll also offer an additional entry if you follow me on Twitter! (Leave a separate comment)

Entries will be accepted through March 3rd and I'll announce the winner here on March 4th!
This will be open INTERNATIONALLY where Amazon gift cards can be used!

GOOD LUCK

Free Book Op and a Surprise

2012-02-06T06:49:00.000-08:00

I'm guest posting at Curse of the Bibliophile today. Join me in a discussion on blending romance with suspense and have a chance to win a pdf copy of my spicy romantic suspense novel, CAUGHT BY A CLOWN (look to your right for tagline and reviews).

Here's a taste of what's in store for you:

Romantic Suspense blends two best-selling genres into a reading experience as addictive as peanut butter and chocolate. Who could resist?

I can’t!

So stop in at Curse of the Bibliophile for the rest of my post and a chance to win a pdf copy of CAUGHT BY A CLOWN. AND, for the SURPRISE I mentioned, be sure to also check out Kimberly's brand new blog, Bloomin' Reviews, where she's offering a chance to win a $50 Amazon gift card. I signed up! I found her at Curse of the Bibliophile, too--Kimberly's promotional post is right below mine, dated Sunday, February 5th, and she's keeping her promotional offering open to March 3rd.

See you at Curse of the Bibliophile!

15 Famous Thinkers Who Couldn't Spell

2012-01-31T12:21:00.000-08:00

Did you know Einstein had trouble spelling?
My first thought when I read about this was, So what? He's known for E=MC2, what's that got to do with spelling?

Spealling is part of communicating; woops, I meant spelling.

Today's Trivia Tuesday post is courtesy of Rosa Ray with OnlineCollegeCourses.com Rosa recently enjoyed her visit to D2D and kindly suggested I share one of Online College Courses' articles "15 Famous Thinkers Who Couldn't Spell."

So if you're curious who might be the other 14 noted poor spellers, click here.

Thank you, Rosa.

Merry Christmas To All -- Military and Civilian

2011-12-16T06:01:00.000-08:00

Some of you may know I barely finished writing my Christmas cards in time to get them mailed before the big rush. The list grows every year even though I say I'm cutting back. However, this post is about that; it's about one card we received. Inside that card was the following poem:

Twas the night before Christmas, he lived all alone,
In a one bedroom house made of plaster & stone.

I had come down the chimney, with presents to give,
and to see just who in this home did live.

I looked all about, a strange sight I did see,
no tinsel, no presents, not even a tree.

No stocking by mantle, just boots filled with sand,
and on the wall pictures of far distant lands.

With medals and badges, awards of all kind,
a sobering thought came to my mind.
For this house was different, so dark and so dreary,
the home of a soldier, now I could see clearly.

The soldier lay sleeping, silent, alone,
curled up on the floor in this one-bedroom home.

The face was so gentle, the room in such disorder,
not how I pictured a United States soldier.
Was this the hero, of whom I’d just read?
Curled up in a poncho, the floor for a bed?

I realized the families that I saw this night,
owed their lives to these soldiers, who were willing to fight.

Soon round the world, the children would play,
and grown-ups would celebrate on a bright Christmas day.
They all enjoyed freedom, each month of the year,
because of the soldiers, like the one lying here.

I couldn’t help wonder how many lay alone,
on a cold Christmas Eve, in a land far from home.
The very thought brought a tear to my eye,
I dropped to my knees and started to cry.

The soldier awaken, and I heard a rough voice,
"Santa, don't cry, this life is my choice;

I fight for freedom, I don't ask for more.
my life is my God, my country, my Corps."

The soldier rolled over, and soon drifted to sleep,
I couldn't control it, I continued to weep.

I kept watch for hours, so silent and still.
and we both shivered from the cold evening's chill.

I didn't want to leave on that cold, dark, night,
this guardian of honor so willing to fight.
Then the soldier rolled over, with a voice soft and pure,
whispered, "Carry on, Santa, it's Christmas Day, all is secure."

One look at my watch, and I knew he was right,
"Merry Christmas my friend, and to all a good night."

I hadn't heard of this poem before, so I googled the name included on the card. Marine Corps Lance Corporal James M Schmidt was stationed in Washington, D.C., in 1986 when he wrote "Merry Christmas My Friend." I discovered the above copy is actually the 2nd version altered to apply to the Army. Why the changes were made to a perfectly good poem, I don't know. In any case, here's the original Marine version:

Merry Christmas My Friend

Twas the night before Christmas, he lived all alone,
In a one bedroom house made of plaster & stone.

I had come down the chimney, with presents to give
and to see just who in this home did live

As I looked all about, a strange sight I did see,
no tinsel, no presents, not even a tree.

No stocking by the fire, just boots filled with sand.
On the wall hung pictures of a far distant land.

With medals and badges, awards of all kind,
a sobering thought soon came to my mind.
For this house was different, unlike any I'd seen.
This was the home of a U.S. Marine.

I'd heard stories about them, I had to see more,
so I walked down the hall and pushed open the door.

And there he lay sleeping, silent, alone,
Curled up on the floor in his one-bedroom home.

He seemed so gentle, his face so serene,
Not how I pictured a U.S. Marine.
Was this the hero, of whom I’d just read?
Curled up in his poncho, a floor for his bed?

His head was clean-shaven, his weathered face tan.
I soon understood, this was more than a man.

For I realized the families that I saw that night,
owed their lives to these men, who were willing to fight.

Soon around the Nation, the children would play,
And grown-ups would celebrate on a bright Christmas day.
They all enjoyed freedom, each month and all year,
because of Marines like this one lying here.

I couldn’t help wonder how many lay alone,
on a cold Christmas Eve, in a land far from home.
Just the very thought brought a tear to my eye.
I dropped to my knees and I started to cry.

He must have awoken, for I heard a rough voice,
"Santa, don't cry, this life is my choice

I fight for freedom, I don't ask for more.
My life is my God, my country, my Corps."

With that he rolled over, drifted off into sleep,
I couldn't control it, I continued to weep.

I watched him for hours, so silent and still.
I noticed he shivered from the cold night's chill.

So I took off my jacket, the one made of red,
and covered this Marine from his toes to his head.

Then I put on his T-shirt of scarlet and gold,
with an eagle, globe and anchor emblazoned so bold.
And although it barely fit me, I began to swell with pride,
and for one shining moment, I was Marine Corps deep inside.

I didn't want to leave him so quiet in the night,
this guardian of honor so willing to fight.
But half asleep he rolled over, and in a voice clean and pure,
said "Carry on, Santa, it's Christmas Day, all secure."

One look at my watch and I knew he was right,
Merry Christmas my friend, Semper Fi and goodnight."

Thank you, Linda, for sending this card. Thank you to, now civilian, James Schmidt, for writing this poem. And, thank you to all military members and their families for your sacrifices. My family and I wish you well.

Cowboys and Aliens

2011-12-13T05:10:00.000-08:00

I stole 2 hours yesterday and watched our new DVD, Cowboys and Aliens.

Awesome!

The movie offers a fabulous lineup of actors, a thrilling story, and a satisfactory ending that ties up all the plot threads. I would have preferred a happily ever after finish, not surprising since I'm a sucker for romance's HEAs, but Cowboys and Aliens' closing fit the story better. It was more realistic and, therefore, more appropriate. I can live with that.

So, if you're still looking for Christmas presents to give, either to someone else or to yourself, consider Daniel Craig and Harrison Ford's current release, Cowboys and Aliens.

Oh, don't forget, my spicy romantic suspense Caught by a Clown, (featured to your right) makes a good gift, too--A spontaneous freelance journalist on a mission of mercy finds herself entangled with a methodical undercover FBI agent out to settle a score.

Caught by a Clown has earned several 5 star reviews and is available in paperback and ebook at my publisher's website, The Wild Rose Press, and Amazon or Amazon Kindle. The ebook is also available at B&N.

Merry Christmas To All
Sandra Crowley

A Chat with Private Investigator Jennifer Stevenson

2011-12-09T00:05:00.000-08:00

Hi, D2D readers. This weekend I’m proud to introduce my cousin and Private Investigator, Jennifer Stevenson. When I asked Jennifer if she would share her experiences, she rose to the challenge. It wasn’t a surprise since she’s a delightful lady with a strong sense of self and a wicked sense of humor. I know you’re going to enjoy your time with her. So, please join me in welcoming Jennifer Stevenson :

Sandy: Hi, Jennifer. I’m so pleased you agreed to visit with us.

Jennifer: Thank you so much for having me!

Sandy: Let’s talk a little bit about you first. What song should have been played at your birth? Why?

Jennifer: I can’t even imagine! Haha!

Sandy: What’s your favorite meal, dessert, candy?

Jennifer: I love Mexican food! There is a restaurant in Dallas called Gonzales that I can remember going to from the time I was a kid with my mom and stepdad, and it’s still around. The recipes haven’t changed at all in 30+ years-It’s total Tex-mex comfort food.

Sandy: What’s your favorite color? Why? Do you look good in that color?

Jennifer: I love green-I don’t know for sure if I look good in it, but I do have a couple of green sweaters. I just like all that it represents-nature, green grass, etc. It’s a soothing color to me.

Sandy: Please share your background/inspiration for entering the Private Investigator profession.

Jennifer: Well, I sort of lucked into it. My telecom job was doing layoffs, and I was scared about losing my job. I had a conversation with my sister about my worries, and about 10 minutes later, my brother in law called me back with a job offer. I leapt at the chance. This was in 2004 and I’ve been here ever since.

Sandy: What education or training supports this career path?

Jennifer: Well, truthfully I don’t know too much about what sorts of classes a person should take if they set out to be an investigator. Since I’ve been here, I have gone to various continuing education classes and training sessions-some just conducted by our bosses and some requiring day-trips to Austin the DPS Private Security Bureau. I have to say though, that just doing the job is the best training there is. Every case is different and every case requires you to think on your feet.

Sandy: Skip tracing is probably what the public perceives as a PI’s basic money winner. Is this true? Has internet access made it possible for the average person to do one? Why or why not?

Jennifer: Our firm is a little different in that we specifically specialize in insurance fraud claims. In most of our cases, the client wants us to determine whether or not the individual being investigated (the claimant) is active outside their residence, if they’re working when they’re not supposed to be, what their medical history is, their online presence. So a skip-trace is a big part of it because everything begins with locating that person, or if we have their address making sure they are where they say they are, but it’s a pretty broad scope beyond that. The internet has made it possible for almost anyone to do a skip-trace. There are countless directory assistance type sites, as well as sites like pipl.com and spokeo that will just find every instance of a person and give you all the information that exists-be it address history, online profiles, criminal records. Most of the time on those free sites, the information is often outdated, but you can mine through it and narrow it down and find what you need, or maybe a thread that leads you in another direction to get what you need. Even sites like Facebook, and to a lesser extent, MySpace and Twitter, can help with locating a person, or at least getting a line on them. It’s amazing to me how frequently people will befriend a total stranger and engage them in conversation, revealing so much of themselves without even realizing it.

Sandy: What’s your favorite type case and why?

Jennifer: My very favorite is a Locate Profile-what you referred to as a skip trace above. They are often the most challenging. We have so many instances of claimants who are nomadic-grown adults that live with parents, or friends, or they have a PO box and hide their address. These people don’t want you to know where they rest their head at night, and finding someone like that is the most satisfying. It’s definitely the biggest “Gotcha!” I love it.

Sandy: What type case do you hate to take on and why?

Jennifer: We use an interview format with claimants wherein we call them directly and interview them as a radio survey, or potential employer, or some other type of survey (small business if they have a business, hunting/fishing if they’re known to be a sportsman, etc) to develop information. There are some clients that don’t want us to do any sort of interview on the claimant or their family members, and in those instances we have to rely on neighbors. I find those the most difficult just because in this day and age we are so isolated. So often, people have no idea about their neighbors anymore, even if they live next door to a person for years, they often don’t know their name or anything about them. Cases where we have to rely on neighbor-developed information are definitely the toughest in my mind.

Sandy: What type case do you work on the most often and why?

Jennifer: Most often is our Activity Check. The clients like this best, I believe, because it gives them the clearest idea of who their claimant is. We do our claimant/claimant relative interviews to determine their activities, hobbies, and any possible employment, and we conduct thorough online research. Nowadays Facebook is an investigator’s best friend. I have so many instances of claimants who tell me they can’t work or do anything and they just stay at home all the time and their Facebook feed tells a completely different story. The clients love it. We have several “fake” Facebook profiles where we can befriend people who think they’re being clever and careful and keeping their profile private, but they think nothing of saying yes to a friend request from a cute girl! This is information the clients usually can’t get to and they love it. In some cases, what’s on Facebook is enough to deny a claim especially if the claimant is being dishonest about their physical limitations and have photos and statuses indicating otherwise.

Sandy: What do a majority of people assume a PI can do that is actually illegal?

Jennifer: I think that some people think we can get access to their phone records or financial records, and that’s not true. We’ve had clients request an Asset Check-which we do-and want us to get credit history and bank statements and we have to tell them no. Property records and assets such as vehicles and boats are information we can obtain, but anything beyond that is out of the realm of what a PI can do. At least, the kind of PI’s we are!

Sandy: What’s your most useful tool and why?

Jennifer: The internet!! As I mentioned above, there are so many instances of people saying they can’t do anything, and they’re not active and we find so much information online that says differently. Most of the time it’s social networking that is their downfall-a Twitter feed full of activities and foursquare checkins, Facebook of course, even blogs like tumblr where they just shoot themselves in the foot with photos or blog entries that are the opposite of what they are claiming. And people don’t realize it’s not just their name that can get them caught-I recently had a case where a woman named Patricia in Las Vegas was swearing she couldn’t work, couldn’t leave her house, and was going to need lifetime care for her back injury. A search for her name on Google and the various other searches we do yielded a Facebook that she’s not active on, and not much else. But, a search of her phone number opened up her world to me-I found out that she went by a nickname instead of her real name and that she runs a successful poker league there in Vegas and her nickname and phone number are all over their website as the point of contact. I found several photos of her present on the website working as a dealer and partying it up with the poker players in her league. She had a Facebook page too, but she never mentioned her job on it. The best information that I got on her came from googling her phone number. Crazy!

Sandy: Do you have a traditionally busy time of the year and why?

Jennifer: Spring and summer are always busiest. The clients like to try to catch the claimants when they might be most active-and spring break and summer are the best times-people travel, they do more outside, their kids are home so they may be more active than they normally would.

Sandy: What was the funniest or most bizarre situation you experienced as a Private Investigator? The most dangerous one?

Jennifer: The funniest is just usually things people will say over the course of those phone interviews. They obviously don’t know we’re on the side of their employer/insured so frequently I hear about big plans to sue their employer and make lots of money-I once had a young guy tell me he couldn’t wait to sue the ‘dogs***’ out of his employer so he could buy a four wheeler. People say crazy things when they don’t realize it could come back to bite them! Luckily, my job is primarily research and telephone based, so I don’t experience much danger. We have field investigators that sit in their cars outside these people’s homes to get surveillance, and some of the places they’ve had to go, I definitely wouldn’t want to!

Sandy: What aspects of being a PI seem to follow you into your personal life?

Jennifer: I can’t get a phone call on my cell phone from a number that I don’t know without looking it up and trying to figure out who it is. I have bought things on craigslist before, and when the person emails me to make arrangements the first thing I do is search their email address to see if I can find their Facebook and figure out from their little picture or whatever is there whether or not they’re a murderer J. I think it’s made me question the status quo more-just in general. It’s definitely made me more suspicious and wary in my own life-I don’t know if that’s good thing or a bad thing!

Sandy: What personality trait complements your profession? Complicates your profession?

Jennifer: Honestly, I think humor complements it-it can really diffuse a situation, or if a person is not sure of you it can really help-let’s face it, most of the time I’m a stranger calling someone asking weird questions. But it is easy to disarm people if you can make them laugh and put them at ease. I frequently pretend to be ‘new’ at my job and make jokes about getting fired so I can beg them to please be nice to me and help me out by doing this survey. So maybe it’s about half humor/half acting ability. Haha. Complicates it-I don’t know if this is a personality trait, per se, but I am easily distracted and can literally spend hours on one claimant without even realizing it. With online social networking being what it is these days, it’s easy to get sucked into someone’s life before you ever speak to them or know anything about them. It’s not necessarily a bad thing; it just makes for longer work days for me!

Sandy: Do you find it frustrating or liberating being a woman in what is viewed a traditionally male profession?

Jennifer: Neither really. It’s definitely a boy’s club environment, but I feel I’m on pretty equal footing with the men that I work with. I don’t know if it’s because I have family at the office that it’s that way for me, and it may be different at a different firm, but I have never experienced frustration at being treated differently because I’m a woman. I’m grateful for that.

Sandy: Is there anything else you want to add?

Jennifer: Not right now, if I think of anything I’ll let you know! J

Sandy: Jennifer, thank you so much for sharing bits of your life and work with D2D’s readers. I appreciate your time and frankness. I hope you’ll enjoy the additional questions and comments your interview generates.

READERS, please stay the extra minute or two it takes to ask Jennifer a question or share your appreciation with her.

D2D's Upcoming Interview Schedule

2011-11-30T14:20:00.000-08:00

I'm thrilled to announce I'm finally catching up and able to resume Interview Fridays. Please join us December 9th through 11th when D2D hosts Private Investigator, Jennifer Stevenson.

Who could resist that smile?

No one is my guess. So, join us Friday, December 9th through 11th for a fun and informative visit with Private Investigator Jennifer Stevenson.

Summer Hiatus

2011-06-03T06:25:00.000-07:00

Hi all,

I'm declaring a summer hiatus for Driven 2 Danger. Interview Fridays and Trivia Tuesdays will resume this fall. I'll post D2D's resumption date on my website www.sandracrowley.com and announce it on social media. Feel free to leave comments if you wish.

Have fun!

Dennis Weaver Memorial Park in Ridgway Colorado

2011-05-31T05:34:00.000-07:00

Dennis Weaver Aug 1997
by Cheryl Norman

I saw an Eagle in the sky today flying free upon the wind

In my dreams I touched it's wings, caught the wind and flew with him

Oh, what glory it was for me flying free up in the sky

For dreams become reality if in our souls they never die

So seize the moment which is now for your Eagle lives within

Hold the vision of your truth, dream your Eagle and fly with him

Dennis Weaver

William Dennis Weaver (June 4, 1924 – February 24, 2006) was best known for his acting role of Deputy Chester Goode on the television series Gunsmoke with James Arness as Marshall Matt Dillon. Gunsmoke would go on to become the highest-rated and longest-running series, 1955 to 1975, in US television history. Dennis received an Emmy Award in 1959 for Best Supporting Actor (Continuing Character) in a Dramatic Series. He later stared as a Marshal in his own series, a police drama known as McCloud, produced during the 70’s.

Born in Joplin, Missouri, of Irish, Scottish, English, Cherokee and Osage ancestry, Dennis wanted to be an actor from boyhood. He studied drama at the University of Oklahoma at Norman, where he was also a track star. In 1948, he tried out for the U.S. Olympic team but finished sixth in the olympic Trials. Since only the top three were accepted to the team, Dennis went to New York City to try acting. Success in his field eventually led to his serving as President of the Screen Actors Guild from 1973 - 1975. Dennis continued to act through the 1980's with sporadic roles thereafter until his last role in 2005/2006 season as Henry, the co-owner of Raintree Ranch in the ABC Family cable television show, Wildfire. Before the season ended for the series centered on the world of horse racing, Dennis died (February 24, 2006) from complications of lung cancer.

Dennis Weaver was a long time vegetarian and student of yoga and meditation as well as being renowned as an environmentalist. He promoted eating lower on the food chain and using alternate fuels such as hydrogen and wind power. Dennis also founded an organization called L.I.F.E. (Love is Feeding Everyone). It provided food for 150,000 needy people a week in Los Angeles.

During the late 1980’s, he commissioned architect, Michael Reynolds, to design and build a home “The Earth Ship” in Ridgway, Colorado, that incorporated recycled materials and featured advanced eco-technologies.

The town of Ridgway created a memorial park (1 1/2 mile north of town) dedicated to the memory and vision of Dennis Weaver, considered a local philanthropist. A bronze plaque at its gateway displays his inspirational “Eagle Poem” (shown at the beginning of this post). The park lies along the Uncompahgre River and encompasses 60 acres of scenic beauty. Miles of hiking and biking trails offer stunning views of the San Juan Mountains and Uncompahgre River. This magical place of reflection and relaxation is a must see for artists, photographers--anyone who loves beauty.

If you have only a few minutes to stop, be sure to see the awe-inspiring Eagle memorial; a cast bronze American Bald Eagle depicted in flight that crowns a tower of boulders. The 2800 pound artwork has a wingspan of over 20 feet and was created by Wyoming sculptor Vic Payne.

A gravel pathway encircles the memorial. It was inspired by the Ute Circle of Life and is aligned astronomically to the summer solstice. A visitor on June 21^st can stand at a specific spot on the path and witness the sun rise directly over the eagle’s wing where its tip appears to brush the mountaintop behind.

Stones are also positioned beside the gravel pathway in alignment with magnetic North, East, South, and West. Cairns (stacks of stones) are found throughout the memorial. Placed by local and global visitors, these challenges of patience and skill are said to contain prayers or pay tribute to loved ones and add a magical, mystical atmosphere to the park.

If you missed my earlier posts highlighting Ridgway, Colorado. Check out D2D's May 17th post "Ridgway Balloons ~ N ~ Varooms - Emphasis on Varooms," and May 10th post "Ridgway Balloons ~ N ~ Varooms Festival" for more about the picturesque destination.

Clint Adams - Stories about Facing Fear - A Teen Social Program

2011-05-26T00:05:00.000-07:00

Clint Adams is a courageous man who launched a social enterprise in the UK, Spain and the US.

STORIES ABOUT FACING FEAR is a program to help young adults "get their stories out." The program doesn't promote literacy or foster creativity, instead it's "old-fashioned cathartic storytelling, pure and simple."

Scroll down to the following post for Clint's interview and video. You'll be amazed by what you read and see.

Clint Adams - Life is All about FACING FEAR

2011-05-26T00:01:00.000-07:00

I met Clint Adams through my rather recent connection to him, as a fellow writer, on Facebook. When I asked if Clint would share those experiences and others, he rose to the challenge. LOL Please join me in welcoming Clint Adams to Driven 2 Danger:

Sandy: Hi, Clint. I’m so pleased you agreed to visit with us.

Clint: Hey there, Sandy, my pleasure. When I first visited your blog, I thought to myself, “Holy crap! I haven’t driven lately and I’m not necessarily dangerous!” Oh, well, for you, I’ll put on my daredevil mask and give it my best shot. This’ll be fun, thanks so much for having me here.

Sandy: Haven't driven lately!? The mere thought sends me into withdrawal. ROFL Driving also means music to me: music of the wind, engine, and a rockin' good song in my mind or blaring through the radio. So, let's start your interview there. What song should have been played at your birth? Why?

Clint: How about, “Which song would I have liked played at my birth?” That’s an easy answer: DON’T STOP BELIEVIN’ by San Francisco’s (my hometown) Journey. We all seem to want what we can’t have, true? Well, I believe that all good things come to those that are fearless. Unfortunately, I’ve never been one of those, and all my books were written for the purpose of trying to help others eliminate fear from their lives. If this song had been played at my birth, life would have been quite easy, but more than likely, would have ended quickly. This wasn’t my destiny. I’m grateful that I’ve got a reason to be here, and I’m ecstatic that (years ago) I was able to identify why.

Sandy: If the opportunity presents itself, would you face down your biggest fear?

Clint: Whew! Been there, done that, Sandy. I faced it a few months ago…at a youth centre in NW London. Recently I launched a social enterprise (here in the U.K.), STORIES ABOUT FACING FEAR, that’s intended to help young adults “get their stories out.” It has nothing to do with promoting literacy or fostering creativity…it’s old-fashioned cathartic storytelling, pure and simple. At the first meeting, I spoke briefly and listened to some wonderful, personal stories about overcoming; I was so happy…until they asked me, “Clint, what’s YOUR story?” Again, if I may…“Holy crap!” “No, this is all about you, not me. Next week…,” I replied. Assuming that they’d forget, I still sweated and was sleepless for an entire week. Well, they didn’t…so I did…have to tell my story. They were riveted, and rather than taking up 5 mins., my story took up the entire hour with an intelligent exchange of questions and answers. Telling my story (to them) validated the importance, I feel, for getting stories OUT. The youth now understood this and couldn’t wait to tell more. Needless to say, I was in heaven.

Sandy: What have you done that surprises others when they find out about it?

Clint: The fact that I avoid parties/socializing/networking like the plague. It’s entirely bizarre, and honestly, embarrassing to admit. I can recall someone having called me, “the life of the party” once, yet they never knew how painful it was for me to attend. I admire folks that look forward to these types of things and make the most of them. I’m hoping some of your readers can relate; it has nothing to do with shyness or a lack of self-confidence. I LOVE people, but it could be that I don’t care for small talk. I believe life’s short and I perceive talking trivia as wasting time.

Sandy: I understand what you're saying. I'm an introvert. Parties, more specifically, being around crowds of people, drain my energy. Chocolate revives me. What’s your favorite meal, dessert, candy?

Clint: Ooh, a much lighter topic (but I’m not talkin’ calorically), Sandy. Sorry to say…pizza. For years and years, I kept hearing how bad coffee was (health-wise); now we find out about all its positive attributes. Yippee! Am I wrong to hope that someday gluten (the gooey stuff that makes pizza chewy) will be deemed nutritious? Yes, you’re right…that goo has already affected my brain. But seriously, pizza…OH, YEAH! Well, at least I’ll die with a smile on my face…unless it came with anchovies.

Sandy: If you were given a chance to meet a celebrity, who would you choose? What activity would you like to do with him/her?

Clint: Another no-brainer, Sandy. But, may I pick two rather than one? Number 1): Monica Seles, the former #1 tennis player in the world who was brutally stabbed on court by a crazed fan of her rival. I can’t possibly imagine the trauma she experienced after that, or maybe I can. Monica is my hero because of what she’s chosen to do with her life after that event; she now helps others all over the world, people that have experienced obstacles/challenges/trauma but strive daily to overcome. She’s living her purpose brilliantly and I’ll always look up to her. Activity: I know how much she loves Rome, her favorite city. I’m an Italian citizen (in addition to being American) and it would be my pleasure to take her on a slow walk along the shores of the Tevere, stop to eat a pizza (naturalmente her favorite…you see the connection?), grab some hazelnut gelato afterwards and talk about life (while throwing in a few jokes in between bites and words of wisdom).

Number 2): (Again…a tennis player) Rafael Nadal, the current #1 men’s player in the world. With my own eyes, close-up, I have seen the ways in which he relates to kids and their causes. It’s astounding the genuine rapport he has with them; without a doubt he’s a modern-day hero for all ages.

On May 31, I return to Barcelona to live as I launch STORIES ABOUT FACING FEAR-teen/young adult storytelling to Spain. I am not going there for this reason, but it would be a dream to collaborate, at some point, with the Fundación Rafa Nadal there, to explore the unification of our shared mission(s). Activity: He’s too busy these days…traveling the world and all. I’d love to connect with him after he retires (he’s only 24) and ask him all the same questions you’re asking me now, perhaps entirely in Spanish…if I practice non-stop for the next decade or so.

Sandy: Two fascinating and admirable choices, Clint. If you could, is there anything in your past you would change?

Clint: Great question! I’ve been asked this before. I consider myself to be quite a spiritual person and I don’t believe in mistakes or having regrets; they happen for a reason, an opportunity for us to learn. BUT…I’ve got to amend that answer. I definitely do regret when my actions have/may have affected anyone else adversely. Not good. I used to spend a lot of my life pointing fingers at those, who I felt, didn’t acknowledge me and/or what I was aiming to do; I used to blame them. WRONG! Everyone’s got their own life to lead and no one will ever be more passionate about my goals than me. How could I possibly expect somebody else to believe in me, when I never fully believed in myself? Looking back, I applaud all those that have crossed my path, they made me stronger; I’m grateful for those connections; I’m happy for having shared a history with them and I wish them well.

Sandy: Finish this sentence: I see myself as __________________ because ___________________.

Clint: I see myself as honest because I wouldn’t know any other way to be. After all, it ain’t called the “best policy” for nothin’.

Sandy: VBG--I'm right there with you! Caveat though--I soften or bypass an honest comment when I know it would hurt the other person without creating change for the better.

What’s been your greatest challenge and how did you face it?

Clint: I kind of see these words tied into one: challenges, obstacles, hindrances all = fear. Remember when I was discussing that group of teens in Islington (London)? Facing my biggest fear? Well, telling my story to a group of 20-or-so teens ain’t nothin’ compared to telling it to the whole world, yet I did it…and it was, of course, the greatest challenge I’ve ever faced. In late-1991, I learned about events that took place in my childhood that ended up becoming kept secrets for decades. The story about how I discovered these events, these truths, was literally unbelievable.

Shortly after, it wasn’t this shocking story that kept me awake at night, it was the fact that this story NEEDED to be told, the truth MUST come out. But, I was afraid. Actually, afraid of being harmed for telling it, afraid of being sued, afraid of the legal consequences it would bring to my family. I wrestled with these fears for years. Because of having no other means available for me to tell it then, I became a writer for this reason. Over the years, my short story SOUL HERESY, became the novel-length manuscripts SPLIT-TIME, DEVIL WORSHIP and inevitably, THE SEVENTH RITUAL. I knew these novels meant nothing unless they were published though, because these stories still belonged to me. In 2009, after mustering enough courage, I chose to have THE SEVENTH RITUAL published on July 04, American Independence Day. That, subsequently, has become my new birthday. That horrible story that had lived inside me all those years is now a hardcover book living on a bookshelf somewhere, somewhere out there, owned by people I’ll probably never know. It’s no longer inside me. Since that day, I’ve never written a single word, because I told my story that NEEDED to come out. I’m no longer a writer. Been there, done that…but it sure was a hellofa ride (pardon the pun if you’ve read TSR).

Sandy: What is the newest challenge you’ve attempted?

Clint: Perfect follow-up. Sandy, I hate to break this to ya, but you’re not my first. :-) Every time I’ve done an interview to promote my books, I’ve always been asked this same question, “So, why’d you want to become a writer?” My answer (appearing above) is not a typical one. Getting the story out, the one that needs to, is/was what’s it’s all about. After THE SEVENTH RITUAL was published, I began to think about others, others who’ve got stories to tell…younger “others.” What I hadn’t mentioned, is that while I was being so scared (re: the release of my story), I took a detour and wrote four teen/young adult novels between 2002 and 2006.

During these years, I visited a good variety of schools, mostly in Europe; I got to know teens/teen issues quite well. I knew firsthand that they, also, had stories that needed to come out. My fond memories of them led me to create STORIES ABOUT FACING FEAR, teen/young adult storytelling. I’m not going to call this a ‘challenge’ though; instead, I see it as a colossal opportunity to fulfill my destiny, my purpose, the best way I know how.

Last year, I was given a grant by the British government to get this program (programme) going. I’ve learned so much in the process, and I’ve already seen a few positive results…but I’m just getting started. I will always be grateful to the U.K., in particular to UnLtd., the foundation for social entrepreneurs, for believing in me and my mission. Always wanting to stay fresh, I now take SAFF along with me as I move back to Spain; I feel I’m well prepared to make the effort to help teens/YAs there…and speak a little Spanish with them, while at the same time, giving them something to laugh at (my Spanish).

Sandy: If you were to choose one adventure you could do for the rest of your life, what would it be?

Clint: Be afraid of nothing.

Sandy: Is there anything else you want to add?

Clint: Sandy, to you and your readers, I want to say, “If there’s a story that lives inside you that NEEDS to come out, TELL IT!!! You’ll be amazed at how quickly that weight on your shoulders disappears. And don’t forget to pat yourself on the back after telling it. Inevitably, YOURS is the only pat that matters.”

Sandy: Clint, thank you so much for sharing bits of your life with my readers. I appreciate your time and frankness. I hope you’ll enjoy the additional questions and comments your interview generates.

Clint: Hey, my thanks to you, Sandy. I’m thrilled and grateful that I’ve been given the chance to get to know you and your readers. Anyone wanting to know more about me, my program or my books, my website’s always up for a visit; excerpts are all over the place. Whatever you don’t see there that you’d like to know more about, please ask by commenting here…I can’t wait to chat with you and hear YOUR stories. Until then…

Sandy: Readers, you can also visit Clint's YouTube channel for more information. If you didn't already know, YouTube has a Like option similar to Facebook's. Stop by and show you support his efforts or sign up to receive updates on his program's progress.

D2D READERS, please stay the extra minute or two it takes to ask Clint a question or share your appreciation with him. You don't have to have a special account--just use the Anonymous sign in option. Adding your first name to your comment is up to you. Thank you, we appreciate your visit!! If Blogger continues to have difficulties with its Comment option, please go to Clint's website, www.StoriesAboutFacingFear.com . You can share your thoughts/story with him there.

Bird Lovers -Who's my Visitor?

2011-05-24T06:36:00.000-07:00

I'm oh so grateful to any bird lover who can identify this new visitor to my area. The adorable red-headed flash of yellow arrives at six thousand elevation along the western edge of Colorado's Rocky Mountains when the chokecherry trees are heavy with blooms--which are late this year due to cooler temps.

I'm sorry about the poor quality of the picture. I've tried to catch this bundle of energy in my camera lens for two years now. The above photo is the best I've managed for a chance at learning the bird's identity. Can you help me? I'd love to know what it is, where it comes from, and any other information you know about it.

Thank you.

Mona Risk - World Traveler and Romance Writer

2011-05-20T06:24:00.000-07:00

I met Mona Risk through The Wild Rose Press loop. When I asked if Mona would share those experiences and others, she rose to the challenge. LOL Please join me in welcoming her to Driven 2 Danger:

Sandy: Hi, Mona. I’m so pleased you agreed to visit with us.

Mona: Hi Sandy, thank you for inviting me to your beautiful blog.

Sandy: Tell us who's with you in this picture.

Mona: The bear is a gift from my friends. He's dressed as General Sergei, the hero of TO LOVE A HERO.

Sandy: He's adorable. You have thoughtful friends.

Since bears are coming out of hibernation here in Colorado and food is their first thought, I wonder what’s your favorite meal, dessert, candy?

Mona: I can live on bread and cheese. I love all kinds of cheese and often skip cooking to dine on a platter of cheese with French baguette and a glass of wine. I’m not keen on dessert, except for ice cream and crème brulée. No candy but I don’t stop munching on almonds, my comfort food.

Sandy: I can appreciate any meal that doesn’t require cooking. What’s your favorite color? Why?

Mona: Green. It matches my eyes and looks good on me. Most of my clothes are black, brown or green.

Sandy: Identify your passion in life and why.

Mona: I love traveling. Armed with my camera and a notebook, I traveled to more than fifty countries, snapped a gazillion of pictures and scribbled my impressions. Is it a surprise I like setting my stories in the countries I visited? Discovering new places and new cultures provides thorough research for interesting stories.

A year ago I toured Egypt, cruised the Nile River and visited the ancient monuments. I brought back a good-sized collection of pictures and brochures and wrote a paranormal story based on a legend from Egyptian mythology, called OSIRIS' MISSING PART.

Sandy: That sounds fascinating. What’s been your greatest challenge and how did you face it?

Mona: In a former life, I was a chemist. For years my writing consisted of detailing standard operating procedures or outlining contracts. When I started writing romance, I had to ignore the concise, straight to the point, crystal-clear writing style. I had to learn how to write like a romance writer, understand the shape of a story, and accept rejections. Workshops, mentors, critique partners, contests taught me to hone the difficult art of writing and find my voice.

Sandy: What is the newest challenge you’ve attempted?

Mona: My newest challenge is promoting my books. No one ever warned me that I would have to learn such an amount of technology to be able to sell my stories. I am lucky to have a computer guru at home who taught me to create website, blogs, trailers, newsletters,…

Sandy: That challenge is shared by many authors, myself included.

What have you done that surprises others when they find out about it?

Mona: My former boss and colleagues, my real life friends can’t believe that the proper person they have known for so long, writes hot romances with sexy heroes and places them in love scenes that leave them panting.

Sandy: I can attest to the “hot” and “panting”. Your newest, Rx in Russian is an excellent read.

Reveal your biggest fear. If the opportunity presents itself, would you face down that fear?

Mona: My biggest fear is to lose my family. I prefer not to think about it. I know I would completely collapse and pray God to keep my husband, children and grandchildren safe.

Sandy: Do you have special knowledge you think we would find interesting or educational? If so, please share it with us.

Mona: I am fluent in French. If you need any help with this language don’t hesitate to email me.

Sandy: Thank you, Mona. I've always thought French is a beautiful language. However, the help I need is translating Texan into English. lol

If you could, is there anything in your past you would change?

Mona: Nope, I wouldn’t change anything. I believe things happen for a reason and they happen at the right time. It’s difficult to understand some events at the moment they happen, but later I realize that things make sense.

Sandy: Do you believe you can plot your future? If so, what will it be? If not, why not?

Mona: You made me smile, Sandy, because I always plot everything I do or write, and continuously create new to-do lists. Although I believe I can influence my future or help shape it through my work and actions, I don’t think I can plot it in the true sense of the word. One can always dream and hope that dreams will come true.

Sandy: Please tell us about your writing.

Mona with bear in costume of General Sergei, hero of TO LOVE A HERO.

Mona: TO LOVE A HERO and FRENCH PERIL are romantic suspense novels, respectively set in Belarus and France, and published by Cerridwen Press. They were featured in Publishers Weekly, B. Vey’s Special Beyond her Book Blog, and other review sites.

BABIES IN THE BARGAIN, Rx For TRUST and Rx in RUSSIAN are contemporary romances, published by the Wild Rose Press.

All my books garnered 4-star or 5-star reviews and were chosen as Best Book of the Week or Top pick by various reviewers. In addition, BABIES IN THE BARGAIN won 2009 Best Contemporary Romance of the Year at Readers Favorite and 2009 Best Romance Novel at Preditors & Editors Readers Poll. Rx For TRUST won 2010 Best Contemporary Romance of the Year at Readers Favorite. Rx in RUSSIAN was released a month ago and garnered a five star review.

Let me share the latest good news: OSIRIS’ MISSING PART, a paranormal romance set in Mythological Egypt will be released by Ellora’s Cave, Blush (non-erotica line).

A list of reviews of my published novels can be found on my website.

www.monarisk.com

Sandy: That’s quite a list of books and credits. Congratulations! Is there anything else you want to add?

Mona: I am currently working on a contemporary romance set in Greece. As soon as I finish it, I hope to continue a romantic suspense set in Florida and a medical romance also set in Florida. And then I want to try my hand at a vampire story.

Sandy: Good luck with those, too, Mona. Thank you so much for sharing bits of your life with my readers. I envy your travels and appreciate your time and frankness. I hope you’ll enjoy the additional questions and comments your interview generates.

READERS, please stay the extra minute or two it takes to ask Mona a question or share your appreciation with her. It means so much to each of my guests and to me.

Ridgway Balloons~N~Varooms Festival - Emphasis on Varooms this time.

2011-05-17T05:25:00.000-07:00

Ridgway, Colorado hosts a delightful festival on Friday and Saturday of Mother's Day weekend. If your interests fly high like the hot air balloons filling the sky weekend before last, check out last Tuesday's post.

If your interests ride on four wheels, sway to live music, drool over scrumptious food, or perk up at the exchange of $$$ for arts and crafts, then you'll still want to mark your calendar for next year's event.

To be honest, my husband and I spent Friday evening in Ouray, about 10 miles south of our morning's destination. Friday was my husband's birthday, and he wanted one of Outlaw Restaurant's superb steak dinners, a slow stroll along the historic main drag, a chocolate truffle for his sweet tooth, and then a soothing soak in the hot springs before we woke up at 5am to finish our drive to Ridgway and watch the ballonists setup for their 7am launch.

We would have slept the night through, satiated with good food, a sweet treat during our pleasant walk and then the relaxing soak, but at 4:30 our Corvette's alarm woke every visitor staying in the motel and no doubt its neighbors too. A quick search showed nothing amiss except the unnecessary awakening. In the prelight of dawn, though, my husband discovered the convertible's trunk lid slightly ajar. Nothing was missing--there had been little left in it. More than likely, the parking lot's slope torqued the body just enough to prevent a full latch when he closed the trunk the night before. We guessed that as the temp dropped, the car body contracted that tiny bit needed to release the partial latch and trigger the alarm.

Surely our fellow travellers appreciated out quiet withdrawal Saturday morning more than a personal apology to each and every one barely an hour after being rudely disturbed! LOL

When we finished watching the balloons float around the bowl of Ridgway's valley, we crossed the highway to the town's park, where Ned Beaty in John Wayne's movie True Grit was hanged, and inhaled the Lion's Club's pancake breakfast. The crisp air spiked our appetites despite the previous night's filling meal. We each wolfed down our two fluffy pancakes, scrambled eggs and sausages. Then, we wandered along vendor's row testing lotions and spices; admiring jewelry, paintings, and wood crafts; buying an item here and there to commemorate our outing.

The vintage cars, sleek sports models, and unique entries soon drew our attention. Their numbers weren't large; however, the selection was diverse and fun to look over.

Live music serenaded all, including parents watching their children play on the park's swings and merry-go-rounds. Friends joined us as we soaked in the warm sun. The True Grit Cafe upheld its reputation for tasty food at lunchtime. Our waitress told us to be sure and visit the memorial recently completed for Dennis Weaver who had played Chester, Matt Dillon's deputy in Gunsmoke.

Stop by Driven 2 Danger next Tuesday for my post on the town's stunning tribute to the actor and humanitarian.

Going Fast!

2011-05-13T05:20:00.000-07:00

This week I'm thrilled to introduce D2D's readers to my friend and long-time critique partner, Caroline Clemmons. This multi-published, award winning author and fun loving woman is a delight to know as you'll soon discover for yourselves. Have a great time talking with Caroline...

Driven to . . .

Hello, my name is Caroline Clemmons, and I love going fast! From the time I learned to fly down a hill on my bike at age eight to the time I first galloped on horseback with the feel of wind on my face and in my hair, I was hooked on speed. Now that I am an adult and drive an automobile, I owe a great deal to the person who invented cruise control. No doubt that one invention has saved me money and, probably, my license and my life.

Travel by plane just doesn’t compare. It’s about control, you see, and I don’t hold a pilot’s license nor have access to a plane. Unlike Sandra and her characters, I have no longing to drive in NASCAR. No going in a circle for me--I’d be looking for the first exit.

What I’d prefer is driving on the desert test flats where I’d be a blur to spectators. Just me and my machine, no cross traffic and no obstacles! That’s why it surprised me to find I was . . .

Driven to Relax . . .

My half-sister Elsie Reed and her husband Buster were two of the best people ever! They helped everyone in our family at one time or another and many friends. Elsie was near my mom’s age, so she seemed more an aunt than sibling. She acted as the matriarch of our family’s California branch. She and Buster were exceptional hosts, and we always looked forward to visiting them in Bakersfield, California. Buster was easy going, always smiling and with a good word to say to or about anyone. Elsie was friendly, but somehow I wanted so much to live up to what I imagined were her expectations. Once my husband and I had children, I was always worried: what if someone spilled food in her immaculate home, what if a kid threw up? Oh, Elsie would have been gracious about it, but I would have been humiliated to disappoint her.

Elsie and Buster in their 1910 Ford

Buster and Elsie were members of the Horseless Carriage Club and Buster was a mechanical genius who restored antique cars as a hobby. On one visit, Elsie had a church-related commitment so Buster took my family and me for a ride in his 1910 Ford touring car. Whizzing along at twenty to twenty-five miles an hour, we drove by Beardsley Elementary School where I attended from kindergarten through second grade, my parents old house, homes my dad built, and the house in which Elsie and Buster had lived. Travel at that speed allows plenty of time to enjoy the scenery. What fun!

Vs. Driven 2 Danger . . .

On the other hand, if you prefer danger, I recommend my paranormal romantic suspense, OUT OF THE BLUE. Sandra helped me plot this novel in which a psychic woman from 1845 Ireland travels forward to help a modern police detective discover who’s trying to kill him, who killed his partner, and why. After allowing time for the heroine, Deirdre, to adjust to her new surroundings, OUT OF THE BLUE is filled with explosions, car chases, near kidnappings, and bodies piling up here and there. Don’t you just love when that happens? (Rubs hands together in bloodthirsty glee.) Plotting it was fun, and so was writing the book. I’ll share the blurb:

Deirdre Dougherty never cursed at anyone, much less put a curse on the potato crop of her remote Irish village. She’d rather take her chances with the Atlantic lapping at the bottom of the cliff than the mob intent on burning her as they have her cottage. Deirdre leaps . . . and plops down over 160 years later in a Texas lake.

Possum Kingdom Lake

She doesn’t understand how she’s ended up with the man from her recent visions or why he has the same name as the saint to whom she prayed. She’s in danger of falling for the handsome policeman who rescued her, in spite of the fact that he thinks she’s lying to him. How can she convince him her story is true when she’s finding it difficult to believe the tale herself?

Police Detective Brendan Hunter wants answers. Who shot him and killed his partner? Why? And why does Deirdre know details of the event? Her story has to be a colossal fabrication or else she’s a beautiful psycho. Either way, he wants her gone before he becomes even more fascinated with her. But he can’t let her out of his sight until she confesses to how she learned details no one but he and his late partner knew.

And here’s an excerpt involving driving danger:

Clouds scudded across the sliver of moon and created an inky night. A radio newscaster warned of a severe storm’s approach. The only downside about staying at the lake was the drive home. He had to admit he wouldn’t mind living at the lake permanently. The peace it offered made the trip worthwhile.

Nights like this reminded him of the disadvantages. Dark winding roads, no center stripe, no streetlights. A stiff breeze tugged at the car. Brendan swerved around a fallen tree limb.

Thank goodness for halogen headlights.

As he passed a side road, a dark SUV the size of a small tank turned in behind him. He hadn’t known anyone lived up that road, but lots of new folks were moving in. Perhaps someone had built up on that hill. The other vehicle’s headlights grew closer.

He glanced in the rear view mirror again. “Damned fool. Get off my tail and go around.”

Finally, the SUV drew alongside him to pass. Instead of pulling ahead, it swerved into his front fender.

“What the hell?” Brendan blasted his car’s horn.

In answer, the SUV bumped him again, harder this time.

Thunder boomed overhead. Rain began to fall and the pavement turned slick as ice. He recalled Deirdre’s warning and Frank’s. This was it then, whoever drove the SUV intended to drive him off the road.

They approached a sharp curve. Brendan fought to defend his car against the larger vehicle’s attack. His mid-size sedan had no chance against the huge SUV. Metal screeched against metal. He lost control and his car plunged down the embankment and rolled.

When the car stopped, he hung suspended upside down. Deflated airbags dangled like spent balloons. Unfastening the seat belt, Brendan dropped to his overturned car’s headliner.

He touched the lump on his head and found sticky moisture. Blood. His head ached like a sonofabitch and he needed to sit down, but he didn’t dare delay inside the car. The strong odor of gasoline surrounded him and he feared an explosion.

He had to get out, and fast!

It hadn’t been road rage that sent the other vehicle into his. Was this wreck another warning or had someone intended his death? Either way, he had to escape.

All the doors were too damaged to open. Using his jacket as a buffer against the few shards remaining in the passenger door’s window, he slithered out the side away from the road in case anyone above watched. Keeping low, he raced behind a group of cedars.

While he looked toward the road, he crouched motionless and listened. After what must have been only seconds, a flash of lightning illuminated a shadowy figure standing where Brendan’s car had barreled off the pavement.

Someone checking to see I don’t make it out.

No sooner had the idea occurred to him than he heard the soft pop of a silenced gun. The ping of a bullet struck his car mere nanoseconds before the car exploded in flames. Above the roar of his burning sedan, a car door slammed and the SUV drove away.

Damn good thing he couldn’t get the door open in case the interior lights had still worked. He’d have been a spotlighted target. Easy pickings.

He’d faced down armed men. Taken hundreds of risks in the line of duty. But he’d never before been the objective of an unknown assassin—not unless he could prove the drive by shooting of him and Larry was an assassination.

Sparks from the fire showered the area, igniting smaller fires in the undergrowth. With any luck, the storm would prevent the fire’s spread. Moving further away from the roaring blaze, he grabbed his cell phone and dialed 9-1-1. Then, he waited in the rain.

Thanks to Sandra for inviting me to drive over to see her. If you want to know more about my books, you can learn about them at The Wild Rose Press and other online stores.

At my website, www.carolineclemmons.com

My blog at http://carolineclemmons.blogspot.com

I love to hear from readers at caroline@carolineclemmons.com

Drive carefully!

Ridgway Balloons~N~Varooms Festival

2011-05-10T06:51:00.000-07:00

Ridgway, Colorado, hosted its Balloons~N~Varooms Festival last Friday and Saturday. I blew through 200+ pictures of the balloons with no effort at all. Hey, wait, don't leave, I promise this post will share only a fraction of them along with tidbits of information I learned--like this activity is a team effort. Between four and ten people help the balloon's pilot set up the basket, fuel tanks, burner, burner supports, and envelope, otherwise known as the balloon.

The woven wicker basket is unloaded first. Then comes the fuel tanks, burner, and supports. Each tank contains a rod that extends clear to the bottom to siphon the liquid propane, which will burn at 40,000 btu rather than the 20,000 btu obtained by backyard grills which burn the fuel's fumes. Once everything is secured in place, the crew tips the now six hundred pound basket on its side. The balloon's storage bag is opened and the balloon's mouth is attached to the burner supports by tethers. The balloon, sometimes laid out on a large tarp to protect it from damage due to rough ground, is made of strong, lightweight ripstop nylon or dacron.

Sealers such as silicone or polyurethane are used to coat the material, making it impermeable to air. Friction from packing/unpacking wears away the sealer, gradually degrading the balloon's ability to hold air and finally ending its flight life.

After the balloon is extended, the crew take turns holding the mouth open to let a large fan blow air inside.

A vent in the top of the balloon (the red section shown here) allows the pilot to release air to slow an ascent or start or quicken a descent. The vent flap for this balloon is call a parachute vent. Invented by Tracy Barnes, it is the most common style. The fabric is connected around its edge to a set of "vent lines" that meet in the center , resembling a parachute--hence the name. Those "vent lines" connect to another line, a control line, that runs to the basket. The pilot pulls on the control line to open the vent. When the pilot stops pulling on the control line, the pressure of the remaining hot air pushes the vent fabric into place again. A parachute vent can be opened for a few moments during flight to start descending rapidly. Slower descents occur when the air in the balloon is allowed to cool naturally.

The balloon is now ready for heat and lift. If the blast valve is lit too soon or directly poorly there's a risk of overheating the fabric.

The sun finally crested Ridgway's circle of hills, throwing shadows, raising the cold morning temperature, and highlighting the colorfully decorated balloons as they began to take flight.

Ten balloons soared above the town, staying within the valley's gentle air currents. Well, almost. Two caught winds higher up to escape the eastern hills' rim and disappear from view. Flight instruments like an altimeter which measures elevation; a variometer which indicates the rate of climb or vertical speed; and a GPS surely helped them navigate to a safe landing place and direct their crew to find them.

Winds picked up. The balloons' pilots began to call it a day.

Back on the ground, opened vents let trapped air escape as crew members embraced the fabric and walked its length, squeezing it as flat as possible while others followed, wrapping straps around the bulk to keep it secure for packing.

For the team short of members or muscle, there's an aluminum hoop, shown below, that the balloon's mouth can be threaded into. Two people can then slide it to the top while another follows to strap the collapsed fabric in place.

One hundred eighty pounds of fabric is packed away to wait for its next chance to fly.

The basket/burner assembly is disassembled,

loaded,

and everyone celebrates a beautiful day.

My thanks to Ric and Jodie Simon of Montrose for patiently answering my questions. Any mistakes are mine alone. Hope to see y'all next year.
D2D readers, come back next Tuesday for my post on the car show and Ridgway's memorial to Dennis Weaver, the actor well known for his portrayal of Chester, Matt Dillon's deputy in Gunsmoke.

Moab Car Show--Cold Day/Hot Cars

2011-05-06T06:39:00.000-07:00

Freezing temperatures and hot cars arrived simultaneously for Moab, Utah’s annual spring kickoff of car show season, the April Action Car Show. Owners who tried to do a little touch up early Saturday morning found that any liquid sprayed on windshields or metal froze upon contact. Patience won the day, though. The sun finally warmed surfaces, participants, and hundreds of visitors who came to see, discuss, photograph, but not touch.

Ernie’s 1964 Chevy Malibu Chevelle.

"I built the Chevelle as a race car, but it has never been raced. I just use it for street cruising. We’re down here at Moab for the car show. It’s the first one they do every spring. So, it’s kinda nice to get out and do the first show and see all the nice new stuff. A neat show plus they have the cruise at night. That part’s a lot like the American Graffitti movie. The cruisin’ is what we like the best 'cause it lets everybody show off."

Rich’s 1951 Henry J made by Kaiser.

Rich said, "It’s got a 460 big block Ford, stroked to a 557 cubic inch and dyno to 653 horsepower. It took me 5 years to build, quarts of blood and a lot of money. Painted by Ernie and hand rubbed by my wife. This is the second show I’ve entered with it. It took first place in its class in that first show."

KB’s 1965 Corvette convertible.

KB said, "The car has all matching numbers and 55,000 original miles on it. I did an off frame restore 2 ½ years ago. The color is Nissan blue. The top is white. The hard top is the matching Nissan blue with matching numbers. Everything on this baby is factory. It has no power steering and no power brakes. It has side pipes and a 327 which is fresh. After 61K original miles I did an off frame. We took it out and refreshed the motor brand new and completely rebuilt it. Everything else is in really, really, really, really good shape. I bought it because all my life I wanted a 1965 Corvette convertible. When I was a kid, that was the car. That was the car you had to have if you wanted to be a cockster."

I hope you enjoyed this small selection of Moab's April Action Car Show. Maybe you can make it there in person next year.

Red Mountain Shells - Sumptuous Eating

2011-05-03T05:22:00.000-07:00

Familyhedges from Photobucket

Several people have asked me how often my husband and I eat out. I know this question comes from comments I’ve made in recent interviews. There’s also a line in my biography, which is posted on multiple social networks, that says I prefer to skip kitchen chores. That information is true. I do believe that only restaurants should cook.

Therefore, the supposition that we frequently dine out follows naturally. That isn’t the case. We aren’t regulars at any restaurant. We rarely chow down at fast food joints. We average two dinners out a month during the summer. Winter is leaner due to weather and bad roads.

So, most meals in the Crowley house are a la Sandra’s stovetop efforts. My poor husband. Effort aptly describes the unadorned meals placed in front of him--a meat, a veggie, a fruit--all healthy and filling though uninspired. If dinner takes longer than ten minutes to go from refrigerator to table, there are guests involved. That brings me to the real point of this post: Red Mountain Shells. I don’t know where the recipe I use comes from or I’d credit its origin. Suffice it to say this dish is so delicious it’s well worth the time it takes to prepare and bake. Give it a whirl when you have two hours.

BTW, this makes several small pans which I freeze for my husband and I to enjoy over several months or 2 large ones, each of which can feed a 6 person dinner party. After all, if I’m going to work this hard, the results better cover at least 4 sumptuous meals that provide a couple left-over lunches, too.

Red Mountain Shells

1 package jumbo pasta shells

      1 (16 oz) carton lowfat cottage cheese, drained
      8 oz mozzarella cheese, shredded
      8 oz Cheddar cheese, shredded
      ½ cup mayonnaise
      1 onion, chopped
      1 ½ pound ground beef or mild Italian sausage
      1 (30 oz) jar spaghetti sauce (at least--I have 2 jars ready ‘cause I like lots of sauce.)
      Oregano and Parmesan cheese.

Cook pasta shells according to directions on label. Drain. Let cool while browning ground meat or sausage. Drain meat and crumble into bite-sized pieces. Add chopped onion to meat. In a large bowl, mix cottage cheese and mayonnaise together. Add mozzarella and cheddar cheeses. Turn onion and meat mixture in with cheeses and mayonnaise. Blend all together by hand. Stuff cooled shells. Place in oiled baking dishes and cover with spaghetti sauce. Bake uncovered at 350 for 35 minutes.*

*I have to bake longer because of our high altitude.

**This dish freezes beautifully if shells are completely covered with sauce and plastic wrap laid over the surface.

Bon appetit.

The Wild Rose Press Celebrates 5 Years

2011-04-29T08:01:00.000-07:00

This week's Interview Friday breaks the record with secrets revealed, passions explored, and joys shared.

Join The Wild Rose Press staff, authors and readers today through Sunday. We're celebrating 5 years of awesome books with insights on how and where we write, what inspires us, what bugs us, and how we get our revenge. Stop in, comment, and you're automatically entered in drawings for cool prizes.

Click on www.groups.yahoo.com/group/thewildrosepress or www.groups.yahoo.com/group/thewilderroses (for erotic content).

Hope to see you there!

The Demise of the Typewriter -- NOT

2011-04-26T19:28:00.000-07:00

National news organizations recently reported the last manufacturer of typewriters closed this month. Godrej and Boyce of Mumbai, India, closed their doors after six decades making and selling tens of thousands of typewriters, at least until 2009 when orders sharply declined.

But, don’t drag out the black yet.

It seems New Jersey based Swintec, which actually manufactures its machines off-shore in places like Japan, has cornered the prison market. Facilities in 43 states provide a steady market for Swintec’s clear cased model. The see-through typewriter prevents inmates from concealing contraband inside, yet gives them the necessary tool to bang out words on blank paper or printed form.

Prisons aren't the only customers. Our government and a few other specialty markets still need typewriters that allow users to fill out original forms such as birth/death certificates or other forms with odd spaced boxes or lines.

Many of the early typewriters were developed to help the blind then assumed the task of being faster than writing by hand. In 1865, Rev. Rasmus Malling-Hansen (Denmark) invented the Hansen Writing Ball. His design was commercially produced starting in 1870 and was the first commercially sold typewriter. His typewriter placed letters on short pistons that went directly through the ball to the paper. This, combined with his perfection of the placement of the letters so that the fastest writing fingers struck the most frequently used letters, made the Hansen Writing Ball the first typewriter to produce text significantly faster than a person could write by hand.

This picture shows a prototype of the Sholes and Glidden typewriter, invented by Christopher Latham Sholes, Carlos Glidden and Samuel W. Soule between 1868 and 1873. Manufactured in 1874 as the 'Sholes & Glidden Type-Writer' by Eliphalet Remington & Sons Co., Ilion, New York, USA, this machine boasted several firsts. It was the first commercially successful typewriter. Approximately 5000 were produced. It was the first to use the QWERTY keyboard layout invented by Sholes. It was the first to be called a typewriter. Sholes coined the term and then, oddly enough, disowned his invention, refusing to use or even recommend it.

Typewriters remained about the same until the innovative shift key made its debut.

According to Wikipedia, “This key physically "shifted" either the basket of typebars, in which case the typewriter is described as "basket shift", or the whole carriage, in which case the typewriter is described as "carriage shift". This means that a different portion of the bar would come in contact with the ribbon/platen. The result is that each typebar could type two different characters, cutting the number of keys and typebars in half (and simplifying the internal mechanisms considerably). The obvious use for this was to allow letter keys to type both upper and lower case, but normally the number keys were also duplexed, allowing access to special symbols such as percent (%) and ampersand (&). With the shift key, manufacturing costs (and therefore purchase price) were greatly reduced, and typist operation was simplified; both factors contributed greatly to mass adoption of the technology. Certain models, such as the Barlet, had a double shift so that each key performed three functions. These little three-row machines were very portable and could be used by journalists, etc.

However, because the shift key required more force to push (its mechanism was moving a much larger mass than other keys), and was operated by the "pinky" finger (normally the weakest finger on the hand), it was difficult to hold the shift down for more than two or three consecutive strokes. The "shift lock" key (the precursor to the modern caps lock) allowed the shift operation to be maintained indefinitely.” Thank you Wikipedia for this explanation.

Noiseless and then electric versions eventually came along. In 1961, IBM introduced its Selectric model. Its ball design was fast and jam-free without the need to lift the type basket for upper/lower case letters. Later Selectric models replaced the old ink ribbon (either black/red shown above or all black) in favor of carbon film which was later encased in cartridges that were easy and clean to change. Falling sales resulted in IBM selling its typewriter division in 1990 to Lexmark.

Word processors, personal computer and the newest notebooks and pads have whittled away at the typewriter's usefulness until Godrej and Boyce of Mumbai were left with 200 typewriters in stock and few customers. The flip side--typewriter repair shops remain in demand. Who knows for how long?

Happy Easter

2011-04-22T06:11:00.000-07:00

Happy Easter to All

Join me at Sweethearts of the West on Easter Sunday for my post on how the holiday might have been celebrated in the late1800s out on the Kansas prairie. I also share how the Easter Bunny and her eggs might have evolved.

See you there...

Spatial Reasoning in the Bath

2011-04-19T06:53:00.000-07:00

Spatial reasoning is one of the basic reasoning abilities. The others are verbal, logical, numerical and abstract. But, today's trivia involves space, which can't be spelled from the letters contained in the words spatial reasoning.

Don't worry if you're lost. Here's an easy illustration: Spatial reasoning tells us when to turn the water off for our bath so it doesn't spill over when we get in the tub, or whether dinner's leftover spaghetti will fit in the one quart storage bowl or we need the two quart size.

Right about now, you're asking, "Why is she going on about spatial reasoning?" That, too, is easy. It's the first thing that popped into my mind when I started on this post. Awareness probably started with last Tuesday's, the one entitled Word Play. Word search games use spatial reasoning. If you scroll down to that post, you'll see the length of the word vocabulary will to take up a whole line. Looking at a v anywhere but at a line's beginning or end is a waste of time.

Friday continued my awareness when I cringed over edits I received last Friday. Would the character conflict shown within the two scenes I was supposed to cut transition smoothly so close to the following chapter's turning point--without seeming rushed? I made a copy integrating those changes and will let it set until next week when it looks fresh and I can tell whether or not the rewrite worked.

Sunday produced another challenge. My neighbor gave me three spinach plants, and I had to figure out where they would fit in my gardens, now and at full growth. Water and light requirements came into equal consideration. Would sprinkler arcs be sufficient on the east side of the house? Would our pine tree's shade steal necessary sun? Would the southeast corner of the stone shed's wider garden work better?

Decisions. Decisions. Who would think spatial reasoning is an everyday occurrence? David Graham certainly would. He's the methodical undercover agent in my romantic suspense novel, Caught by a Clown. On the other hand, its spontaneous freelance journalist, Stacie Monroe, never noticed it. Not even when she offered him the use of her bra.

You can click on Caught by a Clown's cover to the right of this post or my website link listed further down to learn more about these intriguing characters and who's Caught by a Clown.

Thanks for visiting Driven 2 Danger. I hope you come again.

A Civil War Letter

2011-04-15T06:27:00.000-07:00

This year is the 150th anniversary of the Civil War. I’ll take this opportunity to share a bit of Crowley family history. I hope you don't mind that I use pictures from a different branch of my family to illustrate this post. Evidently, Crowleys used to be camera shy.

From The Trail Blazers (1935) by Alice Hamot, p 325, a letter written in 1866 by 17 year old Susan H Holman, granddaughter of Judge Samuel Crowley of Missouri:

Andrew County, Mo.
7 May 1866

Dear Cousin,

I embrace the opportunity of communicating to you for the first time that I have a chance to send a letter since the commencement of the war. We have endured a great many hardships and suffered several misfortunes since our national troubles commenced.

My little sister, Elizabeth, died the 25 June 1861, and brother Edmond was going to school in 1863, 130 miles from home in Waco City, when the conscript law was passed, taking all men into the service from 18 to 30 years of age; he went into the service and was killed the 18th day of April 1864, in the Poison Spring Battle that was near Camden in the State of Arkansas. He lived 10 hours after he was wounded. He was wounded with a grape shot out of a cannon. The ball struck him first above the left breast and came out next to the back part of his right hip bone, or it lodged against the bone, and he had it cut out and sent it to me, and told me to keep it for a memorial as long as I lived, which I intend to do, though it is all I can do to bear to look at it.

Pa was also in the service something over a year, but he came home safe. When peace was made, he became dissatisfied with Texas and determined to leave there, for he sold his farm while the war was going on for Confederate money and lost it all. So he gathered up his cattle, about 30 head, and nine head of good American horses, and hired one man to come with us, and we started on entirely unmolested until we arrived at Fort Smith on the Arkansas River where about three miles this side, Pa had two fine mares stolen. The next morning we went on down to the ferry about three miles distant, where we detained all day in trying to cross our cattle over by swimming them across the river, which we failed to do.

A picture of Susan and her family might have looked something like this.

When night came on, we drove out to the side of the road and camped for the night with three other wagons that had been traveling with us, and there was also twelve others but a short distance off in one direction and seven more in another. About 10 or 1 o’clock in the night, the robbers came onto us. I do not know their definite numbers, though there were but three came inside the ring of wagons. The first demanded two of our best horses and robbed one man of his money and firearms that was with us, and one of them started toward Pa, who was on the opposite side of the wagon, when Pa fired on him with a double-barrel shotgun. Five balls entered his breast and he fell dead. Pa tried to, or was about to, fire the other barrel of his gun, when one of their balls entered in at the breech, which broke it, and it fell out of his hands. He then started to run, for he had nothing to defend himself with any longer. Two of the robbers started after him, well armed, so of course, he did not get far until he fell dead. He was shot twice in the loins, and his thumb was shot off. Oh, horrible thought to me. It is all I can bear!

The young man that was with us was also wounded, though fortunately for him, he fell and the robbers thinking (as we supposed) that he was one of their own men, carried him about 60 or 70 yards and laid him down where presently he came to his senses. In the midst of the excitement, he made his way by walking and crawling together to the seven wagons below us, on the river about 300 yards distant, where he happened to meet with one of his old messmates that had been with him in the service. He was also wounded by a blow with a pistol by one of the robbers, for they had been to their wagons before they came to ours.

The next morning some ladies and gentlemen came to our wagon and took care of Pa, and prepared him for interment. The train waited for us and when night came on, the Federates from Van Buren (in a town on this side of the river), came over and guarded us till morning. They treated us very kind.

Along in the day we crossed the river and Pa was nicely buried in the graveyard at Van Buren, on the 29th day of last September (1865).

The young man that was with us happened to have two horses staked away from ours, and they were accidentally left, for all of ours were taken. He then traded them for a couple of mules that would work in the wagon. Ma also traded what few cattle that had not run off, for a horse for me to ride, for I rode horseback all the way from Denton, Texas. This young man put his team to our wagon and started to travel again on the first day of October (1865). He drove for us though he was very weak from loss of blood, but was not seriously wounded. The ball had entered in behind his ear and came out of his face in front.

We suffered a great many privations while we were on our way from there, though we got through safe, and arrived at Uncle James Crowley’s on the 6th day of November (1865). We found him at his home, well and doing well. He had lost two negroes, and about 100 cords of wood, which was about all the losses he had met with.

Grandpa and Uncle Sam and Uncle Washington were up in Nebraska Territory when we came, but I wrote to them and Uncle Sam came down and moved us over to the old place, where you have been many times.

This shot doesn't include a window like Susan mentions, but these relatives of mine surely resemble the Crowley men.

Grandpa did not come down until last spring. He is well and is out in the fields dropping corn at this time and Uncle James is just behind him with the hoe. I can view them through the window where I am writing. Uncle Sam has been chilling for a few days, but is now up and about. Uncle Washington and his family is now on a visit. He intends to move down on his place in, or near, Savannah (Missouri). His little boy is just beginning to walk and tries to talk. They call him George. He is a sweet child.

Mother is as well as common, though she is not stout. I have another sister that was born in Texas. She will be three years old next October. Pa named her Nancy Ella, as she is just like him in features. Virginia will be seven years old next September. She was the babe when we left California.

Oh! Cousin Lizzie, I wish I could see you once more! I could talk to you a week without stopping. I would have a great many more things to tell you that I have heard from California lately. I received a letter from Uncle D. B. Holman, stated that Old Uncle James Crowley had lost two of his sons, viz: Joseph and George, and that his son James was married and Greenberry had lost his wife, and his mother was keeping his children.

Uncle Dan’s own family was well. He talks some of moving to Missouri again. Grandpa received a letter from you while he was in Nebraska, but he never brought it down with him and he did not remember the contents for your name, though he thought it was a Daniels, and I hardly knew how to direct my letter.

You must write me all the particulars referring to my relations in Oregon. Give my best love to all of them, and tell them to write to me immediately, and I want you all to send me your photographs. Nothing else could please me better.

I think I would like to live in Oregon, but I had ought to be satisfied with one place for a little while, for I have been in a dozen states and traveled 10,000 miles or altogether that much, but I am now back to the place where I was born, but there is no one that wanders, but what he wants to wander farther, though I have seen a great many curiosities and learned a great deal more than I would have known if I had not traveled any.

I will have to close. Kiss Jennie for me, also your babe.

Your most affectionate cousin, as ever,

Susan Holman

I'm overwhelmed by many aspects of 17 year old Susan's letter, all of which reflect Driven2Danger's theme.

Word Play

2011-04-12T07:08:00.000-07:00

I loved crossword puzzles and other word games when I was a kid. Sad to say, I left them behind as I matured. I took them up again when my kids came of age, yet once more those activities fell by the wayside as the kids’ interest shifted elsewhere and I worked an outside job along with everything else a wife and mother does while her husband goes to college full-time and juggles between 3 and 5 part-time jobs. Whew.

Can you say:

I guess reading and writing satisfied my fascination with words as I matured, overshadowing the games that had helped build my vocabulary, memory, focus, and problem solving skills, and also guided me toward spatial reasoning.

The American Crossword Puzzle Tournament’s website has an interesting Brief History page that, among other tidbits, reveals: “The first known published crossword puzzle was created by a journalist named Arthur Wynne from Liverpool, and he is usually credited as the inventor of the popular word game. December 21, 1913 was the date and it appeared in a Sunday newspaper, the New York World.”

The first Times crossword appeared on February 1, 1930, following the newspaper’s alteration of its original stand that the puzzle was childish, sinful, and provided no real mental development. American-style puzzles often contain a theme stated or foreshadowed by a title. Cruciverbalists (from the Latin for cross and word) or constructors as they’re more commonly called here, create designs from white and shaded squares. The shaded ones typically comprise 1/6th of the puzzle’s design, and the grid has a 180 degree rotational symmetry, which means the pattern looks the same if the paper is turned upside down.

Here is a small example of a regular crossword, to illustrate the format:

Across

1. ___ and tall

3. Young ladies

5 The original ___

Down

1. ___ and tall

2. Young ladies

4. Like father, like ___

If you worked this puzzle, you know why I’m not a constructor. I’m really bad at this. There should be diverse clues and a theme that entertains, illuminates, or stimulates. Enthusiasts can often spot and even prefer constructors’ styles. Will Shortz, Manny Nosowsky, and Jan Buckner Walker are among respected constructors with large fan bases.

The American Crossword Puzzle Tournament, founded by Will Shortz in 1978, is an annual event held in late February or early March. Mr Shortz still directs the tournament, which holds the honor of being the oldest and largest in the United States. Its 2009 competitors totaled almost 700 which proved the decision to move from its host of 30 years, the Marriott in Stamford, Connecticut, had been wise. Now, Marriott Brooklyn Bridge in Brooklyn, New York welcomes the players.

As with so many aspects of our society, word games have gone digital, available online and in phone and social media apps that replace thumb twiddling waits.

Soon, there’ll be an entire generation that has no idea opposable thumbs were ever occupied circling each other endlessly, sometimes slow, sometimes fast, as inner thoughts kept the shy or single waitee (is that a word?) company.

What if the person waiting has an equally bored companion?

Consider Scrabble.

It was developed for two or more players and based on frequency analysis of letters in words with associated point values assigned by the game’s original developer, Alfred Mosher Butts. He had little commercial success with his game and ten years later sold the manufacturing rights to James Brunot. The game’s popularity lagged until 1952 when the president of Macy’s, Jack Straus, played it on vacation. He loved the game’s challenge. Upon returning from his vacation, Mr. Straus placed a large order for his store. Within a year, sales had soared. Everyone had to have one. A succession of owners kept the game alive until Hasbro obtained it. A television adaptation is expected to air this year on cable.

Whatever happened to Twister, a game that moved our bodies? I guess it morphed into Wii type games. Ah! Maybe instead of sitting and writing, I should develop a game that combines body movement and mind exercise? Is that Charades?

Thanks for coming! What's your fav word game?

At home with CAUGHT BY A CLOWN

2011-04-08T06:56:00.000-07:00

“Welcome to my home.” Sandra Crowley beckoned me inside.

“Stacie and David dropped in earlier today from Caught by a Clown. Have you heard of our romantic suspense novel published by The Wild Rose Press? It's available at Amazon and Bookstrand, too."

Sandra led the way through her house. "Stacie and David are waiting out back. We were about to go for a hike. Would you like to join us?” She grabbed her red hoodie from its hook beside the back door.

FBI Special Agent David Graham

Dressed in hiking boots, black jeans, and a blue flannel overshirt, David bent to slip between the top and middle fence rails and then helped us through.

Soggy pasture land muffled our booted footsteps. We walked in a loose shoulder-to-shoulder line across the new green of spring grass mixed with brown winter kill. Last Sunday’s snow had melted under Tuesday’s sixty degree temps. The awakening land waited for more of each, used to the extremes of life’s cycle of rebirth in Colorado’s mountains. I sidestepped stinky, steaming horse apples. My unexpected change in direction frightened two red breasted robins from their search for worms.

David said, “I want to know why you set our story in a nudist resort, Sandra,”

Sandra Crowley

“Several years ago, I envisioned a shoot-out at an exclusive nudist resort. Although I relocated that scene during the story’s revisions, part of the fun of writing Caught by a Clown was that particular setting. Unfortunately, it couldn’t sustain the whole storyline. That’s when I sent Stacie...

Freelance Journalist Stacie Monroe

...and you, David, on a chase across the southern United States.”

“Why?” I cupped my hands and blew inside, my breath warm against my chilled fingers.

“To capture Caputo’s would-be son-in-law," David replied.

“Who’s Caputo?”

“A filthy crime king in New Jersey I’d been after for years.”

Stacie added, “He's the owner of the club where my friend, Deby worked as an exotic dancer. Sandra, do you mind if I set up the story?”

“Of course, you may. It is your story.”

Stacie paused in a circle of aspens. Bare limbs quivered in the afternoon breeze. Tightly closed leaf buds waited for warmer weather.

She adjusted the heavy knit, cowl neck of her purple sweater. “I arrived at Resort to Nature on a mission of mercy. But, instead of pursuing my quest, I found its owner facing a desperate situation of his own. Mr. Boone‘s receptionist had been out with the flu for days. Phone calls had piled up. Guests were threatening to leave. He needed help. Helping him might help me. It turned out that I only stayed for a day, but what a memorable day.”

***

The tissue box on her desk shifted. Stacie kept her gaze on the colorful page filling her screen while the tropical scent of sunscreen blended with the faint tang of a citrus and spice after-shave lotion. Oh no, another dangling dandy hung too close for comfort.

A long, slow rasp warned her someone was easing a tissue upward. With a sideways glance, she spotted a man’s blunt, tanned fingers spreading the blue tissue to its widest, highest extent, yet leave it anchored in the box. This man cloaked in secrecy what others at the resort openly displayed. She assessed thick wrists and an athletic build that registered in her drool range. Stacie sat straighter and focused on his hands. No ring bound his finger. No pale circlet of skin betrayed the recent removal of one. Looking up, she saw a square jaw shadowed by dark blond stubble. Thick lashes fringed gray eyes. He wore his blond hair long and pulled back, the complete opposite to her riot of short black curls.

“He can’t be David Graham. I am. Always have been.”

Snapping back to reality, Stacie realized the new hero of her dreams thought her guess about Alan changing identity was wrong. She agreed with him. Seeing David Graham in the flesh, yummy hunky flesh, proved he looked nothing like Alan Walsh.

“Why do you think he’s me?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Concerned she’d upset a legitimate member, she introduced herself and offered a warm smile.

“What does this Alan Walsh look like, Stacie?”

A distinct tan line slashed low across the man’s abdomen, dividing sun-gilded skin from virgin white. A faint alarm sounded in her mind.

“Maybe I’ve seen him and could point you in his direction.”

His fidgeting hands and taut body mirrored her reaction to public exposure. Stacie relaxed. She would have signed using a fake address and name if she’d come as a guest. He probably thought helping her would ease him into this new and daunting experience.

“Alan has cinnamon brown hair. Styled, not cut. The hundred dollar appointment kind instead of the twelve dollar walk-in type.”

Graham’s attention remained intent without a hint of reaction.

“He’s five, maybe seven years younger that your...thirty-three?”

Graham shifted his weight from one foot to the other, but he stayed silent.

“Shorter by several inches than your...what...six-three or four...?”

A tight smile pulled his firm lips. “Some people think I throw a long shadow.”

She figured they should be more worried about the heavy muscles that slabbed his arms, shoulders, and chest. “Where you’re built like a weight-lifter, Alan’s a long distance runner.”

“I know the type.”

David Graham’s flat comment implied it fit Alan’s personality as neatly as it did his body. Goose bumps prickled Stacie’s arms for the second time that day.

She looked at him without attraction fogging her senses. What was an intensely private man doing in a nudist resort? One possibility chilled her. Mick Caputo had sent him.

***

Stacie sighed and then said, “I’m curious how you came up with the clown face tattoo you gave me, Sandra. It really fits my personality and ties in with our title.” She winked at David, who scowled.

His scowl eased into a resigned smile. Stacie giggled.

“I’d also like to know why you described its hair as corkscrew-shaped hearts.” Stacie patted the upper slope of her breast where the tattoo hid beneath her pullover sweater.

“The tattoo needed to symbolize your open-hearted individuality and fun-loving outlook. I also wanted it to foreshadow others’ critical reactions to you, Stacie.”

“You mean the ones who think I’m screwy.”

Her sparkling gaze cut to David. He steadied her in our trek across the uneven ground. His lips tipped in an abashed grin.

“A guy can’t be right all the time.”

“Neither can a lady. I wasn’t, was I?” She grimaced. “It’s true I don’t fit in with a conservative crowd. Like my family. They deplore my tattoo. Mother says it epitomizes my faults.”

“Your mother is wrong.” David crushed a pine cone underfoot.

Its pungent aroma filled the air.

He gazed into Stacie's eyes. “That little clown celebrates your heart and love of life.”

She entwined her fingers with his and whispered in his ear.

“I won’t.” He shook his head. “That’s private.”

Stacie smiled at him. “Give our readers a chance to get to know us. I don’t mind admitting my stubbornness caused the car wreck that stranded us in the middle of nowhere. We were lucky to stumble across that derelict motel.”

“Stumble is the word.” He scuffed the broken cone bits with his boot toe. “You were too exhausted to take one more step or I would have insisted we move on. Anything would have been better than that dive.”

“You changed that. Remember? You lit those candles.” She inhaled. “I can smell them. Jasmine and ginger. You can, too. I know you can. You invented them.”
A faraway look misted David’s eyes.

                                                                           ***

“I have a special place in mind for you,” David said.

“You do?” Stacie replied.

Surprise and pleasure sang in her words and doubled his resolve to reinvent their surroundings. Hopefully, she’d play along with him. He snagged his towel off the door handle while she tucked the condom package under the elastic of her thong, grabbed his pack in her hand, circled her other arm around his neck, and kissed him during the short trip into the main room. When he reached the far wall, he cushioned her back with the folded towel. “Do you like the candles I lit around the room?”

“Candles?” She looked over his shoulder. “What can...? Oh.” She smiled at him. “Thooose candles.”

“Yes,” he whispered, then skimmed his tongue over the rim of her delicate ear. “Thooose candles. The flames have warmed the wax. Do you recognize their scent?”

She inhaled. “Ummmmm, jasmine.”

Stacie tipped her head, exposing the line of her neck. He trailed kisses to her collarbone and relished the sensual aroma of her hair, a promise of hot, humid nights amid tropical flowers. He tucked away the information for later use.

“There’s ginger, too,” he added.

“You like ginger?” She traced her fingertip along his jaw.

“It’s spicy. Like you.” Her stroke brushed across his whiskers and arrowed frissons of excitement to his core.

“That’s good?”

“That’s excellent.” The kiss she initiated sucked his tongue deep and hardened his shaft beyond memory. When she released his mouth, he hauled air into his lungs. It caught there when she pushed his shirt to his armpits and ran her hands over his chest, tweaking his nipples.

“Not fair. I can’t take off your top.”

“Let me.”

Dim pulses of light seeped through the curtains, illuminating her as she stretched her arms above her head. Her graceful hands trailed down her arms and their slow, teasing descent reminded him of her skin’s luxurious texture. She dipped one shoulder, letting that set of straps escape to curve at her elbow. He hitched her higher, tasting the naked offering. When he drew back, she slipped loose the other set of straps and drew her top below her breasts. Partially concealed by the lace cups of her bra, they beckoned his touch. He wanted to sample their weight, their sensitivity, but he also enjoyed the gradual revelations of her beauty.

David swallowed his impatience and waited for her to continue. She unhooked the front clasp of her bra, spilling them loose in an uninhibited invitation. With a naughty smile and a shake of her twins, she dropped the bra to the floor and slipped her legs from around his waist. The towel that had cushioned her back dropped in a pool of cotton.

“I want to feel your hands on me,” she said.

“My pleasure.” He knew it would be. Her gratification rose more important than his. A difference he hadn’t foreseen, but one that seemed natural.

Palming her full breasts, he flicked her nipples with his thumbs. They peaked under his attention, hardening, pressing into his flesh, acting much like his own body pressed against the prison of his underwear and shorts. He forgot his discomfort in the splendor of her smile and low, tantalizing hum of satisfaction.

She inhaled. Her top caught at her waist. She left it there while she inched from his touch and opened the button closure of her shorts. Tooth by tooth she lowered the zipper, easing one side wide and exposing the sexy thong beneath. He hooked his fingers in the sides of her shorts and edged them over the sensuous curve of her butt. Bending one knee to the floor, he slipped them down her legs, her sexy thong teasing him with the wonder of remaining secrets.

He caressed the backs of her knees and gently blew against her mound. Her fingers dug into his shoulders. He skimmed her thighs and kneaded her firm, rounded cheeks, pressing his mouth to her mound hidden underneath silken material. She trembled within his grasp, her breath rasping in and out as she abandoned herself to the sensations he created in her.

He reveled in her reactions, knowing he controlled their intensity and her release from the tension he built within her. David carried her to the brink and then stopped. He stood and supported her as she sagged into his embrace.

“You sadist,” she whispered. “Will you torture me again?”

David chuckled.

“Please?”

Teasing and laughter had never been a part of his sexual experiences. He liked the difference. He gathered her stretchy top and helped her out of it. She faced him, unabashed, in only her thong with his condom tucked under the strap that arched over her hip.

“Your turn.” She pushed his shirt upward.

                                                                       ***

Stacie laughed and wrinkled her nose. “You're one hell of a man, David.”

"Hush, woman." He scrambled up a rocky bluff to its top.

Stacie rolled her eyes as she started after him. “This looks like it'll be as tough as catching up with my friend’s little brother, Alan, in Sarasota, Florida. “

                                                                      ***

Alan covered his eyes with his hand. His shoulders sagged. “I already let it slip. You’ll take the money away from me eventually.”

Money, Stacie mouthed to David, hoping he was as pleased as she felt. Alan lowered his hand. She schooled her face to imitate David’s blank expression.

“When I left the club, one of Caputo’s bag men was arguing with a whore. I didn’t pay attention except to notice she was yelling and stomping around and his car was a twin to mine. I was rounding the front of my car when he tossed his briefcase over his shoulder, saying something like take care of this. The case landed in the back seat of my convertible. The guy’s idiot driver sat there staring at my back seat. I jumped in and hauled ass while the soon-to-be-dead-man argued with the tail.”

“How much was in the briefcase?”

“Over a hundred grand.”

One hundred thousand dollars, Stacie clarified in her mind.

“Enough to finance my escape at Caputo’s expense. Seemed like poetic justice.”

“Where’s the money?”

“I’m not going to tell you until I get what I want, protection and my story published.”

“That’s fair, isn’t it, David?” She tried to plead with her eyes.

David shrugged. “It can slide for now.”

She beamed at him. Will you uncuff him, too?”

“Absolutely not

The odds are against his staying alive, and he knows it. He might rabbit again.”

She turned back to Alan “How did you get away?” She took another sip of her drink.

“I kept turning north and west, never doubling back. Couldn’t afford to run into them. I saw a bus picking up people and realized I was in a slum area like where I grew up. I ditched the car and jumped on board.”

His eyelids drifted low as if he replayed the scene on their backs.

“Punk hoods started stripping the convertible before I sat down. I changed buses until I found one going out of town. An hour or so later, I saw a sign for an airport. I paid cash for a charger to Phoenix.

Boosted a car there in case they followed me that far and hid at the nudey place.” He fidgeted in his chair.

“How did you find me?”

“The torn page and Deby’s picture.” Stacie remembered the smile displayed in that memento. The excitement, confidence, and hope radiating from it had meshed with similar emotions in her, the original basis for their friendship. One Stacie’s family hadn’t understood, but she’d proudly proclaimed, to the delight of Deby’s foster parents.

Alan nodded. “What about you?” he asked David.

“The charter.”

“No way, man, the pilot didn’t know where I headed.”

“Paying cash tipped him off to the chance of bigger bills later when someone came looking for you. While you slept, he snooped. Your sweaty hand smudged the resort’s ad.”

“Effin’ louse. Everybody’s working a con.”

The information Alan spouted next contained no value to David’s investigation. He checked Alan’s restraint and motioned to Stacie that he was going to leave for a minute.

The hall lay empty but he could hear a conversation between at least three teachers in one of the rooms. David finished his soda and dropped the can in the trash. Better to move to the auditorium as originally planned. He returned to the classroom. Stacie listened attentively to Alan.

“You can finish that in a minute,” David said. “We’re moving to the auditorium.”

“Why?” she asked.

He started to tell her to do what he said, but she deserved to know she had limited time left with Alan. David explained the situation.

“I need more than another twenty-five minutes for a decent interview.”

“I can’t give you more time.”

“Can’t or won’t, David?”

                                                                       ***

Stacie shivered. "I'm cold."

David wrapped his arm around her. "Let's head back to the house."

Sandra said, "I banked the fire in the stove. It won't take a minute to stir it up."

"I'll add steaming cups of hot chocolate with marshmallows, too. Does anyone want a splash of Peppermint Schnapps in theirs?"

CAUGHT BY A CLOWN, a spicy romantic suspense, will warm you and thrill you from its opening at a nudist resort in Arizona, to its race to a Texas horse track, and its tumble into the Florida clown school. Released two months ago, it's already earned three 4star reviews from Sizzling Hot Book Reviews, The Romance Reviews and The Romance Studio .

Blurb: A spontaneous freelance journalist on a mission of mercy finds herself entangled with a methodical undercover FBI agent out to settle a score.

Stacie Monroe's spontaneity lands her in hot water again when her best friend's little brother disappears and Stacie trails him to a nudist resort. To get inside the exclusive oasis and convince him to return home, she must blend in, a move tailor made to shock her oh-so-proper family and renew efforts to bring her in line.

That's exactly what Special Agent David Graham intends to do when she interferes in his case. Yet, the soft-hearted temptress challenges his resolve, revealing the path to a love he thought impossible. Will that love survive when he betrays her in order to unravel the final twist in his case and convict a vicious killer?

BUY paperback at TWRP or Amazon

BUY Ebook at TWRP or Amazon Kindle

We're so pleased you spent some of your valuable time with us. Thank you!

Smiles - Human Quicksand

2011-04-05T05:06:00.000-07:00

Smiles as human quicksand? That’s a different viewpoint!

During the last four days, Lilly Gayle’s delightful smile greeted me each time I called up D2D. Smiles like hers, outer illustrations of inner happiness, strength and peace, are our usual interpretation when we hear of or read about someone smiling. But, what about other emotions and aspects in life that smiles sometimes cloak?

Uncertainty.

Greed.

Manipulation.

Can you add others to the list?

What might the smiles pictured below hide?

Is it hard to differentiate which emotion or motivation might lie behind? One’s eyes, those proverbial windows to one's soul, and their gaze or one’s full facial expression might confirm or dispute the smile’s implication, might reveal or obscure true feelings. Body language and circumstances also weigh in with clues.

Some camouflage smiles are easy to spot with the help of body language or comment. Take the self-deprecating grin; it can be a half lift of the lips accompanied by lowered gaze, maybe a shoulder shrug, or head shake. The person might even add, “Not really.” Or, “Just kiddin’.”

So couples, friends, and writers beware. Be aware, be fully engaged while interacting with others or writing about your characters. Although it’s easier said than done, it is worth the effort. Doing so can prevent serious missteps in relationships, whether they be real or written.

Recently a fellow writer advised the use of FIND when polishing a manuscript. Adding that step helped me win editor interest. I use ‘smile’ as an emotion tag far too many times in scene drafts. It’s an easy auto reaction for me and my characters. My critique partner, Caroline Clemmons, says she enjoys reading those drafts because my characters are so happy--they’re smiling all the time. But she and I both know I’m skimming the surface of the characters’ emotions. That’s death to a story and to editor interest. It’s when I use the FIND feature, search out and examine each and every smile for what lies behind, and then show the true impetus or purposely misdirect from it, that my drafts become real scenes. Readers want, need deep emotions to draw them into a fictional world and make them care about the characters and their journey all the way to the last page.

It’s the same with real-life people. We want and need real and deep emotional contact. Sometimes, though, the real, the deep scares us. We smile to hide, to misdirect, to shield ourselves inside a ring of quicksand. Maybe in the hope the other person shows their true value in the successful negotiation of that quicksand to discover the real us.

Lilly Gayle Interview

2011-04-01T06:01:00.000-07:00

Lilly Gayle, Paranormal and Historical Romance writer

I met Lilly Gayle through our publisher The Wild Rose Press and Facebook. Lilly recently left a comment on this blog that revealed several intriguing experiences in her life. When I asked if she would share those experiences and others, Lilly rose to the challenge. LOL She’s a brave woman, indeed. Please join me in welcoming Lilly Gayle to Driven 2 Danger:

Sandra: Hi, Lilly. I’m so pleased you left a comment on Rechelle Owens’s interview and then agreed to visit with us.

Lilly: It was a great interview and Rechelle sounds like a fascinating person. Very “driven.” lol!

Sandra: I agree. lol

Now, let’s discover a little about you, Lilly. Please finish this sentence: I see myself as __________________ because ___________________.

Lilly: I see myself as sarcastic because I use sarcasm to cover my insecurities.

Sandra: Identify your passion in life and why.

Lilly: My family. There’s nothing more important. And I have the best daughters any mother could ask for. My oldest is married and living with her soldier husband in Germany. She has a BS degree in parks and recreation management with an emphasis in recreation therapy. She works for the MWR and does a lot with the Warrior Adventure Quest, a program designed to help soldiers who’ve recently returned from deployment deal with transitioning back to non-combat lives. My youngest daughter recently graduated from x-ray school and passed her ARRT boards. She’s now in the radiation therapy program at UNC and she’ll graduate in August. And this June, my husband and I will celebrate our 31st wedding anniversary.

Sandra: Congratulations, Lilly, two lovely girls and a long marriage are tributes to you and your husband’s efforts.

What’s been your greatest challenge and how did you face it?

Lilly: Breast cancer. I’m a radiologic technologist but I’ve been working as a mammographer since 2005.

In June, 2007, I had my annual screening mammogram. I was about 6 months late getting it, but something told me not to put it off any longer. I had no pain. No lump. No symptoms of any kind. And I have no family history or breast cancer. After we finished the regular patients, my co-worker did my mammogram. We didn’t have digital mammography then and the moment that film dropped from the processor and I saw that new, speculated lesion next to my chest wall, I knew. It was the Friday before father’s day and the radiologist left right at 5:00 that day. So my films didn’t get read until the following Monday. I had to get through Father’s Day and a pool party/cook out with the family I’d already planned for the weekend. I didn’t say a word to anyone because, technically, the films hadn’t been read yet. But deep down, I knew. I didn’t say anything to anyone, not even my husband until after I had the follow up diagnostic mammogram and the doctor recommended a biopsy. I wasn’t being negative when I told my husband I thought the biopsy would come back positive. I was being realistic and giving myself time to prepare. And it worked. By the time I had the biopsy and got the results back on 7/3/07, I was prepared for the diagnosis. The surgeon told me at work and I only broke down once. Then, I finished my day and waited until I left work to tell my husband. My oldest daughter had just moved to Germany, so that was another hard thing to do. Telling my oldest child that I had cancer and asking her not worry.

But I survived two lumpectomies, 3 biopsies, 3 MRI’s, chemotherapy, radiation therapy and follow up mammograms every 6 months until Feb. 2010. I had my first screening mammogram in nearly 4 years on 2/11 and it was negative. I’ve been cancer free for 3 years.

Sandra: You’re a brave woman, Lilly! My heart goes out to you and your family. I’m thankful your experience has a happy ending.

What is the newest challenge you’ve attempted?

Lilly: Promo. Lol! My paranormal romance, OUT OF THE DARKNESS, was released in May of 2010. This June, I have a historical romance coming out, SLIGHTLY TARNISHED. And another historical, WHOLESALE HUSBAND that has no release date yet. Trying to figure out how to market more than one book in two different genres is a challenge. Especially while I’m still trying to finish the sequel to Out of the Darkness. But I hope I’m up for it. I hope!

Sandra: LOL I only have one book to promote and there’s not enough time in the day for that, writing, and family, too. My hat’s off to you!

What have you done that surprises others when they find out about it?

Lilly: Besides writing and actually selling a couple of books? Lol!

Not that I discuss it much, but when I was in x-ray school, a fellow student and I were called to the morgue to x-ray a dead body. (Post mortem radiography.) It was our senior year and we were working 3rd shift as student technologists. The victim was brought in DOA from a gunshot wound. The investigating officers believed it was self-inflicted. They believed the victim had gone into the garden, placed the rifle stock on the ground, and then leaned over the barrel to pull the trigger. His arm was long enough to reach the trigger and the angle of the entrance wound looked about right. But there was no suicide note so the family disagreed. They believed their loved one was murdered. So, the coroner ordered an autopsy to prove or disprove the theory.

During the autopsy, the pathologist was unable to locate the bullet. There was a small entrance wound below the sternum (breast bone) but no exit wound. So, a radiograph was needed to find the bullet.

When we arrived in the morgue, the victim was already on the autopsy table and the Y incision had already been made. All the organs had been removed,(except the brain.) The organs had been weighed and placed in stainless-steel bowls. The body was laid open like a side of beef, and we had to slide the x-ray cassette under him. He was cold, flaccid and felt like rubber. He didn’t look or feel human. He felt like one of those stretch Armstrong dolls or water babies from the 80’s.

We were both young (This was in 1982) and we were both nervous. Those who know me will attest to the fact that I make corny jokes when I’m nervous or scared. (I was dubbed the queen of corny during my cancer ordeal.) Anyway, my friend looked as if she were in shock when she saw the body. We exchanged nervous glances, and I made some sarcastic crack like, “Hope it’s not anyone you know.”

She’d grown up in that town. I hadn’t. She said she didn’t know him and we took the x-ray. The bullet was lodged in the body of the 9th or 10th thoracic vertebrae. By measuring the trajectory of the bullet, the angle at which it entered the body and its position and directionality in the vertebral body, the pathologist was able to determine the gunshot wound was self-inflicted. He ruled the death a suicide. (There was also powder residue on the victim’s hand.)

The next day, my friend found out she did know the victim. Even though she didn’t recognize his lifeless body in the morgue, the man was her best friend from high school’s father. A man she’d seen a dozen times or more growing up. But dead bodies do not always resemble living flesh. That sort of stuck with me. When I hear of bodies being too badly damaged for visual identification, I don’t even question it.

Sandra: Gee, Lilly, that’s fascinating. The thought of actually touching/moving a body gives me the chills.

If you could, is there anything in your past you would change?

Lilly: If I could change the past, I would change things other people did. Things that have hurt the people I love deeply. For myself, I’ve learned too much from my own mistakes and hope that nothing I did harmed others. Life’s too short to carry regrets or grudges.

Sandra: That’s an excellent attitude, Lilly.

Do you believe you can plot your future? If so, what will it be? If not, why not?

Lilly: I believe in having a plan, but plans are subject to change. When I graduated from high school, I wanted to be a doctor or a writer. But I didn’t think writing would pay the bills and medical school took too long. So, I chose a medical field I thought would be just as exciting as being a doctor. I chose radiology. My plan was to graduate from college, go to x-ray school and then become a travel tech. I wanted to see the country, starting with Florida and then maybe moving out west for a while. I didn’t want to get married until I was thirty. I wanted to have two children by age 34 and have my tubes tied at age 35.

Getting my tubes tied at 35 was the only part of my plan, besides my career choice, that worked out as planned.

I started Elon College (now Elon University) May 1978. I met this good looking man who made me laugh at a bar in January 1979. We were married eighteen months later.

So, my motto is make plans, but be prepared for anything.

Sandra: Ah, yes. I believe in being pro-active rather than reactive.

If you were to choose one adventure you could do for the rest of your life, what would it be?

Lilly: Writing. It’s a great adventure where I control the people and their destinations.

Sandra: Please tell us about your writing.

Lilly: I write paranormal and historical romance for The Wild Rose Press. My first book, Out of the Darkness, is a paranormal vampire romance that was released May 2010.

Blurb:

Her research could cure his dark hunger if a covert government agent doesn't get to her first.

Vincent Maxwell is a vampire with a conscience seeking a cure to his dark hunger. But when a scientist looking to create vampire soldiers captures and kills a fellow vampire, Vincent seeks out Dr. Megan Harper, a research scientist who discovered a link between a genetic light sensitivity disorder and vampirism. Dr. Harper could hold a key to a cure and the answers to Gerard’s death. But getting close to the beautiful scientist could endanger both their lives.

When Megan meets Vincent she believes he suffers from xeroderma pigmentosum, the genetic disease that killed her sister. Sensing a deep loneliness within the handsome man, she offers friendship and access to her research files. But she and Vincent soon become more than friends and Megan learns the horrifying truth. She's entered the dark and unseen world of vampires and Vincent is her only hope of survival.

Buy Now in ebook at The Wild Rose Press and Amazon
Buy Now in print book at The Wild Rose Press and Amazon

Slightly Tarnished is a historical romance set in England and will be released 6/3/11.

Blurb:

Victorian romance laced with danger.

When a brooding English earl with a SLIGHTLY TARNISHED reputation marries his dead wife’s American cousin to save her from her uncle’s vengeful schemes, the sea captain’s daughter with a taste for adventure sparks desires he thought long dead.

Nicole Keller has always been headstrong and independent, but after a failed business venture and a sinking ship take her father, her home, and her childhood sweetheart, Nikki must support herself and her mother. But moving to England and marrying Chadwick Masters, Earl of Gilchrest isn’t what she has in mind. And falling in love with the mysterious earl could endanger both their lives.

Wholesale Husband is a historical romance set in New York. I don’t have a cover or a release date yet, but expect it to be sometime this year.

Blurb:

She needs his name. He needs her money. But can a rich New York socialite and a poor Irish immigrant find true love in the gilded age?

Betrayed by her fiancé and heart sick over her father’s death, Clarissa Burdick is further devastated when she learns she can’t inherit her father’s company—the company she loves—until she’s twenty-five or married. And Clarissa is neither. So she sets out to find a husband strong enough to protect her from her uncle’s thugs, too uneducated to run the company himself, and poor enough to marry a woman in name only. But Irish immigrant Devin Flannery is smarter than he seems and more educated than Clarissa expects. Her Wholesale Husband soon proves a greater risk to her heart than her company.

Sandra: Those sound wonderful, Lilly. Is there anything else you want to add?

Lilly: Yes. Every woman over 40 should have a screening mammogram. I don’t care what the new government guidelines say. Women diagnosed with breast cancer under the age of 50 have a greater risk of re-occurrence and death than those diagnosed at age 50 and older. And those women ages 50-70 have a greater risk than those diagnosed at age 70.

The sooner breast cancer is detected, the greater the chance of curing the disease. Especially if the cancer is discovered before there are any symptoms, such as a lump or bloody nipple discharge. So, get those mammograms, ladies!

Sandra: I already have my appointment. It’s coming up in April.

Thank you so much, Lilly, for sharing bits of your life with D2D's readers. I appreciate your time and frankness. I hope you’ll enjoy the additional questions and comments your interview generates.

Lilly: You’re welcome, Sandra. Visitors can reach me:

Lilly Gayle
Author of paranormal and historical romance: Where love is an adventure no matter the century.

http://www.lillygayleromance.blogspot.com/
http://www.lillygayle.com/ & www.facebook.com/lillygaylebooks

Sandra: READERS, please stay the extra minute or two it takes to ask Lilly a question or share your appreciation with her. I know Blogger’s comment process can be a challenge, but hang in there--we love hearing from you!

APB

2011-03-29T06:08:00.000-07:00

Sandra Crowley, 5'2", blonde hair, blue eyes.

Approach with caution: Spring Fever victim. Highly contagious.

If spotted, report location to http://www.sandracrowley.com/

She has company coming Friday, April 1st.

D2D hosts writer Lilly Gayle this coming Friday. When asked, What have you done that surprises others when they find out about it?, her answer will amaze you!

CSI Rechelle Owens Shares Her Expertise

2011-03-25T05:11:00.000-07:00

For the next four days, CSI Rechelle Owens is my guest. We met through Twitter. I'm still a novice at tweeting, but Rechelle found some of my tweets informative and followed me. That tells you right off she's a kind and generous person. I'll let her share the rest with you:

Sandra: Tell us a little about yourself.

Rechelle: I am currently employed by a local government agency as a Crime Scene Investigator and have 18 years of civilian and sworn public safety experience. I also have a passion for writing and am currently in the process of writing my first novel which is a paranormal romance. I have a B.A in History with an emphasis on Medieval European history, so don’t be surprised if I produce some historical romances in the future as well.

While pursuing my undergraduate degree, I also minored in Anthropology, with an emphasis on Archaeology. I spent one year as an archaeology research assistant and participated in an archaeological field school in South America where I worked with several archaeologists, a geologist, and an osteologist recovering 1200 year old skeletons and artifacts.

I currently live in South Carolina and am very happily married to a wonderful man (who is also 3000 words into his first novel). We have one son who is in his first year of college, and who is also a very talented artist and writer in his own right.

Sandra: What led you into CSI?

Rechelle: As a child I was always the nosey kid who wanted to investigate everything and always required proof before I would believe anything. It seems only natural that when I reached adulthood I would pursue a career in law enforcement where I could make use of my investigative nature.

When I first entered law enforcement my hometown agency did not have a separate Crime Scene Unit and there were not any forensics degree programs being taught in the area at that time. As a result I worked for several years in a civilian capacity in the Identification division of a local agency. I later attended the local police academy and became a sworn law enforcement officer.

In my early law enforcement career I worked as a deputy sheriff and park ranger, but was not really satisfied as my goal had been to obtain an investigative position. Because of the lack of investigative opportunities in my local area, I actually left law enforcement for several years and returned to college to complete my B.A.

After I graduated, the recession hit and the job market turned stagnant, particularly for people with social science degrees. I had a large educational loan to pay off so I began looking for available positions in my previous career of law enforcement. An agency in a nearby jurisdiction had a Crime Scene Investigator position which I applied for, and here I am.

Sandra: How are cases assigned in your department?

Rechelle: Our agency is an independent law enforcement agency that responds to requests for forensic processing from multiple other law enforcement agencies within our county. As these requests come in, our investigators take turns responding to these calls on an equal rotating basis and calls range in seriousness from auto break ins to homicides. Each investigator is trained to handle any type of call that comes in.

Sandra: Do you work multiple cases at the same time?

Rechelle: Yes. Each Investigator typically responds to and processes 2-5 crime scenes each 12-hour shift during the winter and early spring, and 6-8 calls each shift during the busier seasons. On average, our CSI’s work between 10 – 40 cases each week. Each CSI has a 7 day window from the initial incident date to complete all in-house forensic processing and the preliminary investigation report. The case is then forwarded back to the requesting agency’s Criminal Investigations Division for any necessary follow up investigation (such as locating suspects, obtaining search warrants, interviewing additional witnesses, and making any associated arrests).

Sandra: What is your favorite test to perform and why?

Rechelle: I always find it fascinating when we are able to use Ninhydrin to develop fingerprints on paper and cardboard, and Liquinox to develop prints on the sticky side of adhesive tapes.

Sandra: What test do you wish you didn't have to use and why?

Rechelle: There really isn’t a test that I wish I didn’t have to use. Some tests work much better on certain items and types of materials than others, so each and every test that we can add to our arsenal gives us an increased chance at connecting the evidence to a suspect or suspects.

Sandra: Do you handle bodies? If so, please tell us about that: how easy/hard is it to move body parts; what type tests would you run?

Rechelle: Yes, we are required to handle bodies, both live and deceased. We often need to inspect and photograph various injuries, or swab areas for possible suspect DNA. In some cases it may even be necessary to attempt to lift latent (invisible) fingerprints from a body.

The ease of movement of a deceased body mainly depends on the amount of time that has passed since the person’s death. As a general rule, Rigor Mortis, a stiffening of the muscles, begins in the body within two to twelve hours of death and subsides around 36 hours after death and the muscles become flaccid. During Rigor Mortis the body can be more difficult to move. The decomposition process can also make moving the body more complicated.

The Coroner’s office handles the transportation of all deceased bodies from the crime scene to the morgue to be examined by a Forensic Pathologist who will determine the medical cause of death. If an autopsy is required then the CSI will also be present to photograph the procedure, collect any additional evidence, and perform any additional forensic processing needed.

Sandra: We understand you can't use names and possibly some distinctive details, but could you share your most memorable case and why you think of it that way?

Rechelle: We responded to a death investigation where the victim’s feet, waist, arms, and hands were secured to a chair with plastic zip ties, and the victim had a plastic bag securely ductaped around his head. At first glance the scene indicated homicide. However, after careful forensic investigation using latent fingerprint processing and other investigative techniques, we were able to determine that the victim had tied his feet and arms to the chair, secured the bag over his own head, and then secured his hands last into preformed loops that were already affixed to the chair. The victim had attempted to frame another person for his murder.

Sandra: Are you required to testify in court about your findings or is there one designated person who testifies on all cases?

Rechelle: In order for our forensic processes and investigations to be admissible in court, each CSI must testify individually to whatever they witnessed or did on each individual crime scene, as well as to what processes they performed and their results.

There are some cases when other Forensic experts are called to testify in matters related to their area of expertise, however, these experts are rarely involved in the actual cases unless they are requested to review or test a specific piece of evidence directly related to their specialty.

Sandra: Do you work in teams?

Rechelle: Typically we work alone, but we will have more than one investigator respond to more serious violent crimes and homicides.

Sandra: Are you a specialist in one particular area and work only those aspects?

Rechelle: I am not currently certified in any specialty area where I am considered an expert witness; however, I am trained to respond to all types of criminal investigations up to and including homicide. I do have additional training and experience in Forensic Anthropology and Questioned Documents.

Sandra: What irks you most about all the television CSI shows?

Rechelle: First, let me say that I am a huge CSI, Bones, and NCIS fan, but these shows do make it hard on those of us who actually do these kinds of jobs in the real world because they set unreal expectations into the minds of victims about what can and can’t be done. Crime Scene Investigation is a very tedious and scientific process and it can take months to get test results back and solve cases. Also in the real world, not every case gets solved. Most agencies have very limited technology, resources, and funding, not to mention time, to devote to individual cases.

Sandra: If there is anything else you think we would find interesting or educational, please share it with us.

Rechelle: Forensics is a fascinating field with many disciplines and the discipline determines the required education and training. This website http://www.exploreforensics.co.uk/TypesofForensicsCategory.html provides a great overview to the different disciplines of Forensics and is a great place to explore for more forensic information.

Sandra: Please tell us about your writing.

Rechelle: I have always had a love of books and movies, anything with a great story. I began writing short stories and poems, and keeping a journal in high school as a way to cope with adolescent drama, but never really considered writing as a career. After suffering from severe burnout after a fifteen year career in law enforcement, I took several years off to complete an undergraduate degree in History, a subject I have always had a deep passion for. It was during this time of intense research and writing that my passion for writing really developed. I am currently in the process of completing my first novel which is a paranormal romance, but I also have an interest in writing historical romance, romantic intrigue, and crime dramas.

Please feel free to contact Rechelle at: http://rechelleowens.com/
http://twitter.com/RechelleOwens
http://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Rechelle-Owens/149474711776269

Sandra: Thank you so much Rechelle for sharing your expertise with us and for scheduling this interview during your long weekend so you have time to answer questions.

As I said at the beginning, Rechelle is a kind and generous person. Please fill her four days on Driven 2 Danger with your comments and questions. We appreciate your responses and your interest. They make this fun and worthwhile for us, and we hope to be of help to you in return.

Sandra Crowley

http://www.sandracrowley.com/
www.facebook.com/sandra.crowley2
http://www.twitter.com/SandraCrowley2

Caught by a Clown: A spontaneous freelance journalist on a mission of mercy finds herself entangled with a methodical undercover FBI agent out to settle a score.

Do Blogs Sell Books?

2011-03-22T06:56:00.000-07:00

A fellow writer recently asked me if I thought blogs sell books. My answer--No, I do not.

What I didn't say then and want to say now is that a blog circulates name and credibility. And, when the blog is connected to Twitter, Facebook, Amazon, Goodreads, and probably others I don't know about (please let me know what they are!), name and credibility circulate worldwide. For instance, Driven 2 Danger's stats show over 2200 viewings in it's four months of life. Some of those generated in Mongolia, Russia, Singapore, Venezula, and other distant countries.

I've traveled my whole life. Well, I should say I've lived too many places to count. But, Mongolia? Get real! What're the odds of something I do or say resonating that far away? Zip. Zilch. Nada. Unless, you factor in the explosion of social networks wafting my two cents worth around the globe.

Is writing 2 or 3 posts a week a daunting commitment over time? Absolutely! Like cooking dinner, doing laundry, and going to dentist appointments, the activity can be a chore that comes due far too quickly. IMHO, however, the challenge over the long haul will be worth the effort. Time and perseverance can build name recognition which, I hope, will translate to book sales through connection to readers more as a person than as a writer/author.

You've probably noticed Driven 2 Danger isn't just about me. It's also about the people I know and meet through it. A constant diet of one thing is boring. It's not in my personality to preach to others or share alot about myself. Ask my friends. If they've read my bio on my website or visited this blog regularly, they now know more about me than they ever did before. ROFL

Author interviews and/or book descriptions undoubtedly initiate a few sales. I've bought a few ebooks after connecting with an author and the story being offered on a blog. But, do blog readers notice the books promoted alongside the article they're reading? Or, are they too focused on the reason for visiting that blog? What's your experience? What's your opinion? I'd love to hear what you have to say!

Would a marketing expert out there want to share knowledge? Help authors struggling with a new and daunting responsibility publishers have turned over to us with little guidance? Possibly educate readers to the challenges an author faces balancing life, writing, and marketing? I know I could use two clones. ROFL

Sandra Crowley

http://www.sandracrowley.com/
www.facebook.com/sandra.crowley2
http://www.twitter.com/SandraCrowley2

Caught by a Clown: A spontaneous freelance journalist on a mission of mercy finds herself entangled with a methodical undercover FBI agent out to settle a score.

Meet Lucky GW Pickle

2011-03-18T04:35:00.000-07:00

GW Pickle’s response to one of my posts intrigued me and he was brave enough to agree to an interview. I’m thrilled I asked him; he’s an awesome man who tapped his inner strength when life challenged him and has kept a positive attitude. I think he’ll inspire you as he has me.

Finish this sentence: I see myself as one of the luckiest people in the world because I've found love; survived major accidents I should not have; I have 2 books published( the first one twice); I always had a job or owned a business. My life has been anything but boring, and even with all my problems, I still enjoy life and all of its mysteries.

Identify your passion in life and why. My first passion is my wife, as it should be. She is my helper, lover, and the one I want to be with. I'm a people person and my Taxi business fits in perfectly. I meet so many interesting people. Writing is another passion. I enjoy writing as it lets me open up my crusty old mind and it helps me stay mentally young. It lets me express myself and share some of my life's lessons with others. Who knows it just might help someone else while entertaining them. I would rather write than watch TV or almost anything else.

What's been your greatest challenge and how did you face it? I've had so many challenges but I'd guess my greatest challenge was when I was in an ambulance accident. I received several fractures in my back. I spent 3 days in the hospital, not knowing the full extent of my injuries. I had feeling in my feet, but I could not move my legs. The swelling finally went down enough for them to get a good X-ray of my back. During those 3 days the doctors were trying to prepare me just in case the news wasn't good. I kept telling them that as long as I had feelings in my feet I would walk. I was right. I was out of the hospital 10 days later and it took me 6 months of PT before I was released to go back to work. I refused the narcotic pain killers after the first few days and lived on Tylenol, hot soaks, hot packs, and a lot of prayers. How did I face it, head on and full speed ahead. I learned what I had to do to get better and did it. I got through it and learned a lot about myself in the process. I think the biggest lesson I learned is that with faith, the right attitude, and a good sense of humor, I can do almost anything.

Reveal your biggest fear. That I'll stop thinking clearly, lose my sense of humor, let fear take control of my life, develop an old foggy attitude, and end up just waiting to die.

If the opportunity presents itself, would you face down that fear? I try to do things that keep my mind young, sharp and active. I also try to stay as physically active as I can.

What have you done that surprises others when they find out about it? I was a Navy photographer and I took part in Operation "Frequent Wind" and "Operation New Life." It was the final evacuation of Vietnam and I was on the last baby evacuation from the Philippines. I brought back one of the sickest of the sick children. I was a member of the SCA and am a trained sword fighter.

You mentioned you were a Navy photographer. Were you able to keep any of your pictures? Do you have a favorite--whether or not you still have it. Why was it your favorite? To be a Navy photographer, you had to have a secret clearance. So a good deal of what I took was classified and I didn't get to keep any of those pictures. Most of what I took was boring standard photos (usually head shots for Id photos or photos of damage done to ship or aircraft). Every so often we got to go up in the helicopters and jets. That was fun. Do I have a few favorite photos? Not really. Remember almost all of the pictures I shot were out of my hands once I turned in the film. I do have to say that the final evacuation of Vietnam was my most exciting mission. I happened to be at the right place at the right time. I was on leave in the Philippines and could not get a return flight back to the states. My ship was in the Bremerton Naval Shipyard. I was approached by an Air Force Officer who recruited me to participate in "Operation Frequent Wind." I was their photographer and coordinated the photos that went into the press kits that we passed out at several press conferences. I took some of the photos and printed just about all the photos that were given to the press. If I had to choose one photo that I remembered most, it has to be the one of me holding the Vietnamese baby that I brought back.

Please clarify if you were rescuing the child from the Philippines or Vietnam. Technically both, first from the North Vietnamese and secondly from Philippine President Marcus.

I had been on leave in the Philippines and got attached to "Operation Frequent Wind." The children were Vietnamese and where forced to leave their orphanages, we took them to the Philippines. They were allowed to stay there for a short time. President Marcos ordered that all Vietnamese would be out of the Philippines by a certain date. All but a few of the very sick children were left after the evacuation was completed. I was asked to escort one of the sick children stateside. I agreed. These children had different types of problems. The infant girl I escorted back had a high fever. I didn't know what her diagnosis was, only that she was very sick. We left Clark Airbase and landed in Guam for a fuel stop. The next stop was Hawaii. The child was so sick that they put her in the hospital at Pearl Harbor. They kept me on the plane and I continued on to Washington State. I never knew what happened to her after that.

You mentioned that one of the things people find surprising about you is that you’re a member of SCA. Please elaborate on that organization and the type of sword fighting you did. SCA stands for Society for Creative Anachronism. Their website is http://www.sca.org/ They define themselves as: "The SCA is an international organization dedicated to researching and re-creating the arts and skills of pre-17th-century Europe. Our "Known World" consists of 19 kingdoms, with over 30,000 members residing in countries around the world. Members, dressed in clothing of the Middle Ages and Renaissance, attend events which feature tournaments, royal courts, feasts, dancing, various classes & workshops, and more.”

The sword fighting classes teach how to use light (rapier) and heavy (broad sword and larger swords) sword fighting. The heavy sword used is made of rattan and wrapped with strapping and duck tape. I fought mainly heavy weapons and some light (fencing rapier) swords.

What was your most hard-won goal in life and why? Losing 400 lbs. and I have not won it yet. So far I've lost around 200 lbs. It looks like it will still be a while before I reach my target weight. Why, because over the years, I have developed several medical conditions that are aggravated by my excess weight.

What's your next goal and why? My next goal (which I'm already working on) is to be able to support myself with my writing. Why, because at 59 and growing health problems, I don't know how much longer I can continue to run my two businesses.

If you could, is there anything in your past you would change? No, not a thing, It's what we do and the choices we make in our past that makes us what we are today and helps us decide what our future will be.

Tell about your pride and joy. I'm proud that my Mother taught and encouraged me to read at an early age. I'm proud of being a Boy Scout, earning the God & Country award, and achieving the rank of Eagle Scout. I'm very proud of my wife and everything she's had to overcome in her life. I take pride in myself and my work. I'm proud that I enlisted in the Navy and served my country in Vietnam. I'm proud that I helped bring a very sick child back from Vietnam, during the final evacuation in '75. I'm proud of all the people I've help during the five years I drove ambulance. I'm proud of the businesses that I've started. I'm proud of my two books that have been published and the six stories I'm still working on. I'm proud of all the accomplishments I've done and the things I'm planning to do in the future.

I take joy in doing something for, or giving something to someone that they didn't expect. I enjoy writing, going out and doing things with my wife, and working (yes I do love my job, most of the time). I enjoy the spirit of Christmas, but not so much the commercialism of this holiday. I enjoy an evening with friends and family. I also enjoy being alone every now and then. I enjoy telling a good story or joke. I enjoy making people laugh. I enjoy cooking. I enjoyed the relationship and the time I had with my Mother. I take joy and comfort in my relationship with God.

# # #

Thank you again Sandra for interviewing me.

G W Pickle

It’s been my pleasure, GW. I have one last question: Please tell us about your book, "A Vampire's Love." from XoXo Publishing. 978-1-897521-23-6

A Vampire's Love is an erotic paranormal romance that takes place in north Texas. The story is about how far Allie will go to save the life of her fiancé, Bryan. Will the difficulties they encounter strengthen or destroy their lives?

Excerpt:

“I need to stop for gas before I take you home.” Bryan informs me as he pulls into the Get Away. “I’ll just put in ten. Want something to drink?”

“I’m fine, just hurry. It’s hot and I told mom I’d be back by three, and roll down your window.” As he does, a light, hot breeze passes through the car. It doesn’t help much and it smells of gasoline. I wish Bryan would hurry. The temperature displayed on the bank’s sign

across the street says it’s a hundred and two and I’m still hot from our little side trip to our favorite parking place. I hope he realizes I still have plans for him later this evening. May be I should have him get some vitamin E. He’ll need it.

“Be right back.” Bryan says as he hangs the pump up and heads for the store.

Turning sideways in the seat, I watch as he ambles across the drive. I hold my hand out, admiring the engagement ring we bought late this morning, its inner fire glowing. The ring is so beautiful. I hear sirens a short distance away. I see him enter the convenience store. They seem to be getting closer. A loud booming noise from the store catches my attention. I hear Bryan yell as he backs out the door with his hands in the air. “Oh my God, no please don’t.” His words are cut short by another booming sound and I see him fall backwards laying still on the ground.

Before I can get out of the barracuda, two police cruisers pull up on either side of the building. The cops get out and crouch behind open car doors with their pistols pointing at the store’s entrance. I’m now out of the car and whisper “Bryan.” Slowly I start walking towards him. “God no, this can’t be happening.”

Halfway to the police cars, a tall thin man wearing a white tee shirt and jeans carrying a shotgun steps out of the store and fires at the cops. As he chambers another round, the police return fire. I see several red spots appear on the man’s shirt as he falls backwards to the ground. The police keep firing. I can see Bryan lying beside the gunman, his body jerks. I break into a run, screaming his name over and over again.

Something hits me from the side and I fall to the ground as an ambulance pulls into the drive. Someone says. “Hold on lady. I can’t let you get any closer.”

“But Bryan’s there on the ground, by the one you shot.” I cry hysterically. “I have to get to him.”

“I’m Sergeant Reese and you’re not going anywhere. There could be another robber in there. It’s too dangerous.

As Reese is talking to me, other cops enter the store and signal the paramedics to go in. I see them check Bryan. “This one’s still alive.” One says. “I’ll call it in.”

The other starts an IV, and then they transfer him to a stretcher. Once strapped in, they rush him to the back of the ambulance and load him. I scream, “Bryan.”

Breaking free from Officer Reese, I manage to get to my feet. Four steps towards the ambulance and Officer Reese grabs me from behind, once again keeping me from my goal. I struggle to my knees as the ambulance pulls away from the gas station, its lights and sirens blaring. Collapsing on the ground, I start bawling. My throat is sore but I can’t stop crying. Someone is calling for a medic. There’s a sharp pain in my arm and I start to feel numb all over. All of a sudden, I have almost no control over my body. The next thing I know I’m on a stretcher being strapped down.

A woman takes my hand and tells me “Miss, you need to calm down, try to relax. I gave you a shot to help you do just that. We’re going to take you to the hospital. My name is Jill Willis. What’s your name?”

I answer in a confused voice. “Allie.”

“Allie, do you have any ID?”

“ID in purse, in the car.”

“Great Allie, you’re doing fine.”

I feel them lift me into the ambulance. “Bryan?” I ask in a slow slurred voice. Where is he? I’ve got to help him.”

“He was in the first ambulance. They’ve just checked out at the hospital. We’ll be there in five minutes. Is he a friend of yours?”

“We got engaged yesterday. See the ring he bought me this morning.” I tell Jill as I try to hold up my left hand to show her.”

“Allie that’s a beautiful ring, I’m so sorry this happened.”

“It’s not your fault he got shot.”

“Our hospital has an excellent ER. He’ll receive the best possible care.”

“Call Dr Woods,” I say urgently. “He’s my doctor. He can help Bryan as well.”

“Just relax, Allie. We’ve found your emergency information card and have informed the hospital. I’m sure they’ll call him.”

“Call, Oh no… I need to call mom. I was supposed to be home by three. My cell phone is in my purse. Where’s my purse?” I ask.

“Here’s your purse, Allie.” Jill places it between my legs. “You do know you can’t use the phone in the ambulance or the hospital, but there is a phone in each of the ER rooms. You can call from there.”

“Thanks,” I reply.

“We’re pulling into the hospital drive now,” the Driver tells us over the intercom.

Moments later the ambulance doors open and I am quickly rolled into the ER and placed in a room.

Once the ambulance crew leaves, the ER clerk has the information, and consent forms are signed. I hear a familiar voice. Nurse Peters from my doctor’s office enters and asks, as she takes my hand, “Allie, are you all right? I was just leaving when I saw them bring you in.”

“I’m okay… but Bryan, someone shot him.” I answer as tears begin to flow. “I don’t even know if he’s alive.”

Nurse Peters reaches for a box of Kleenex and hands me several tissues. “Just try to calm down. I know most of the staff. They’re the finest in the region. Bryan will get the best care possible. If you would like, I can go check on his condition and let you know something.”

“Oh yes, please, would you do that?”

“Sure, I’d be happy to, Allie. You need to stay here, and as soon as I learn something, I’ll let you know,” she says, as she leaves.

Dr. Wood enters a short time later, with a clipboard in hand. He smiles at me and says, “Allie, all your vital signs appear to be okay. The ambulance crew tells me that you saw your fiancé get shot and were hysterical. That was why they gave you a sedative to calm you down. Even though the sedative has worn off, I’m going to keep you overnight for observation. They’ll have a private room for you shortly. How do you feel now?”

I look at my doctor with pleading eyes and answer, “I’m okay now, I guess. I’m worried about Bryan. No one will tell me anything about him. Can you please tell me how he is? Is he going to make it?”

“My nurse was coming to see you and told me to tell you that Bryan is in critical condition. He’s in surgery right now. It doesn’t look good. He has a twenty percent chance of surviving the surgery.”

“Twenty percent,” I cry.

“Before I came in to see you, I asked about Bryan. He received a shotgun blast at point blank range. He has damage to his lungs, heart, stomach, shoulder, and neck.

BUY paperback of A Vampires Love at Amazon
BUY Kindle version of A Vampires Love at Amazon
XOXO Publishing
GW's Facebook page
GW's Blog
XOXO YouTube trailer

GW Pickle, Author of SENTI Book One of the Jackwill Chronicles from Trytium Press.

Something to Ponder

2011-03-15T04:45:00.000-07:00

President 1913-1921

"You are not here merely to make a living. You are here in order to enable the world to live more amply, with greater vision, with a finer spirit of hope and achievement. You are here to enrich the world, and you impoverish yourself if you forget the errand."

Woodrow Wilson

Our 28th President may not be your favorite historical figure. He may not be from your political party. You cannot deny he said a mouthful.

Have a great day, week, month, year--have a great life.

Saving Gas Goes Orbital

2011-03-11T05:16:00.000-08:00

Who’da thought! While we struggle down here with the rising cost of gasoline and the need to squeeze every mile possible out of our fuel, the International Space Station faces the same trouble. LOL

You’re wondering why/how I came to post about this? Wednesday night, the space station zipped across the sky above my husband and I as we lounged in our hot tub. The space station’s speed never fails to amaze me! We’ve watched it numerous times over the last decade, and not once has its miles per gallon ever occurred to me. But as I soaked in the lusciously warm water while a frigid breeze blew rising steam against my cheeks, I let my mind roam in a quest for today’s D2D subject, and inspiration flew overhead.

It was a simple matter to goggle the space station Thursday morning. Its Current News feed popped up and the second item on the list was about moving the Station to a higher altitude to improve fuel economy. Naturally, it doesn’t use the same gas we pump into our cars. It’s propelled via a chemical reaction within a combustion chamber. Gee, that sounds like our car engine. Except, this combustion creates heat and thereby pressure that exhausts through a nozzle at high velocity (VBG), pushing the Station along its orbit which has been about 220 miles above the earth.

Its new altitude of 248 miles is hoped to cut its fuel consumption by half. If I could turn my car into a hovercraft, eliminating the friction of my tire’s rubber on the road surface, maybe I could cut my fuel consumption by half? Which begs the question: Why don’t we have George Jetson cars by now? Wouldn’t that be a blast? Instead of being limited by roads, just whoosh above...but let’s get back to the International Space Station.

Bill Spetch of the it’s System’s Engineering, Analysis and Integration Office said, “As solar activity rises, the atmospheric density in our altitude range increases causing increased drag on the vehicle. This in turn causes us to have to raise the orbit more often.”

Even though most people don’t consider there to be much stuff in the sky 220 miles above us, scientists say enough atmospheric molecules impact the football field sized surfaces of the Station’s solar panels, truss structures, and pressurized modules to slow its speed of 17,500 mph. All those teensy particles pushing against the Station continually reduces its speed and altitude--granted only by miniscule amounts--but over time the cumulative affect requires correction. Thrusters fire periodically to “reboost” the Station, using precious fuel stored aloft. This requires the sending up of fresh fuel supplies which costs big time, so the higher the Station is “parked” in orbit the fewer atmospheric molecules, and space debris, it encounters and the greater its fuel economy.

I still like my idea of a hover car. Anyone out there interested in inventing one?

International Space Station March Update Video:

http://www.nasa.gov/multimedia/videogallery/index.html?media_id=70756631

The Flu Stole my Mind

2011-03-08T04:16:00.000-08:00

For the last ten days/two weeks, I’ve suffered with the flu. Yeah, I know, I’m not the only one. My heart goes out to all who’ve been there before me and are there now. It’s no fun. My biggest complaint was not my congested head and lungs, not my achy body, cough, fever, etc. No, my biggest complaint was that sneaky virus stole my mind while it held my body hostage.

You’re probably thinking my fever brought on delirium. No. Not that. Worse; it short-circuited my connections! What I saw didn’t match up with what I did. Five times I walked past my kitchen waste can sitting beside the back door. Five times I thought I need to take that outside and dump it. That’s why I had put it there. Yet, five times, without a pause, I continued to the cabinet under my kitchen sink, opened the door, and dropped my tissue inside. DUH, the can wasn’t there to collect it. I knew that but, still...

Now, my fever is gone. So are most of the congestion, aches, and pesky cough. Unfortunately, about four o’clock in the afternoon, those nasty flu bugs steal my mind again, reducing me to rote actions that, I hope, will make me laugh when I’m fully recovered. Or.......is this as good as it’s going to get? Am I the newest victim of mentalpause?

3 Life Defining Incidents

2011-03-04T10:49:00.000-08:00

Life changes with each second. We never know which of those seconds will herald a defining moment. Three of those defining moments popped into mind last night after talking with my brother-in-law, who had driven up from Texas for a couple days of skiing. It was the first time his new wife had been over the mountain passes. Her fresh perceptions were fun to hear and discuss.

I won’t bore you with the convoluted thought paths that led me from mountain driving to memories of being shot at, peeling scabs, and being bucked off horses -- I’ll just dive in.

One nippy day years ago, I walked the east/west ridgeline of BLM land sandwiched between our property and the Gunnison River. Daily walks were a habit I exercised as often as possible. The forty-five to sixty minutes of solitude revived my energy and always provided some treat of nature I would have otherwise missed. I wove through stunted sagebrush, its twisted limbs scrapping, sometimes catching the bottoms of my jean legs, warning rabbits and doves of my progress. Colorado’s spring sun played hide and seek with gray clouds that warned of snow by nightfall when a bullet zinged past my ear. I didn’t wonder what it was; I didn’t search the countryside for where it had come from; I didn’t question what idiot had shot at me. I dove to the ground and squirmed as deep in the cool rocky soil as I could manage--a quarter inch if that much. A second bullet whizzed over my head. A third ricocheted off a small boulder four feet to my left. The shots came from the north, the direction I now faced. When I dropped, I must have turned instinctively to face the danger. The river lay south of me maybe thirty feet below the bluff. Anything large enough to qualify as life-preserving cover on the ridgeline didn’t really exist. I raised my head until my cheek no longer pressed against grit and sagebrush twigs. “Hey,” I hollered. “Somebody’s up here.” My shouts earned another shot. The bullet whined over my head. Anger, deep, hot, reckless anger shoved me to my feet. “How dare you!” I shouted. “I know you heard me.” Another whine. To my right. Winter dried leaves rattled some distance behind me. As I searched the broken landscape and shadows ahead of and below me, the raw scent of fresh scarred juniper drifted to my nose. My attacker hid downwind of my position. Ten shots, spaced irregularly, and further away each time, totaled my experience of being shot at, something I never want to repeat. The rest of the incident is better left for a later post, probably one concerning law enforcement. As for this particular entry, I don’t recommend standing in the face of fire. It was a stupid thing to do. However, it emphasized the need to control my anger rather than letting it control me.

I have no doubt that control issues figure prominently in fiction because they’re prevalent in real life.

A couple months before our daughter’s third birthday, she sustained facial injuries. The details of how it happened are irrelevant. Her plastic surgeon believed that if we kept her healing process fresh every day, she’d suffer less scar tissue. In laymen’s terms, he told me to peel her scabs. Now, I’m a lifelong peeler. It’s something I’m compelled to do. Sunburn: peel it. Torn cuticle: peel it. Scab: peel it. So, I thought, no problem; I can do this. Except, while he instructed me on the sterile prep and performance, I shut out the reality this duty involved my daughter as well as myself. Twice a day, at noon and bedtime, I soaked her scabbed forehead, temple, eyelid, nose, cheek and chin. When the dried blood and gook had softened, I stretched her on a blanket on our apartment floor, straddled her, tucked her arms on either side of her body at my knees, and began peeling her wounds. Her screams echoed in my ears. Doors slammed throughout the complex. Everyone who could escaped as fast as possible. My tears dripped in her open mouth or wet her t-shirt as her delicate chest rose and fell on her wails. She never fought me. She never blamed me. Each time we finished the disgusting chore, she curled in my arms, begging me not to do it again. Each time, both of us soaked in salty tears, I told her I had to for her sake. Tough love is not for the faint of heart.

Neither is wingless flight.

Ride horses long enough and you’ll spend at least a few seconds flying through the air. It’s a fascinating sensation, the thrill factor intense due to its unexpectedness rather than, say, a jump out of a swing. One instant the horse’s warm back shifts rhythmically beneath your seat. The next, hard muscle pounds your butt and you sail high, weightless. The first time a horse bucked me off, I was too young, too inexperienced to be scared. After all, it’s the landing that hurts, not the flight, and tiny, lightweight me sailed high and far, enjoying my impromptu ascent before my descent ended in a hard, twisted splat that knocked the breath out of me. I panicked. Fought. Finally, I pulled air into my starved lungs. Control returned. Although I didn’t understand it then, it was the loss of control that scared me. I’m a control freak. Have I always been a one? Since birth? Or, was that the inciting incident? I suppose it doesn’t matter.

I hope you enjoyed your visit. Come anytime. Stay as long as you like. Share a comment or click on an option that sends this post or others to someone you think might appreciate it.

I Love a Challenge

2011-02-25T04:38:00.000-08:00

Rhonda Lee Carver

Everyone deserves romance...one page at a time.

I love a challenge. There is nothing more exciting than the thrill of writing a story that even the writer doesn’t know where it’ll turn up. That’s why I love writing paranormal romance. I enjoy the twist and turns I get from a spook-fest.

I am in the midst of writing a paranormal that is unlike anything I’ve ever written. Dreaming Ivy surrounds a haunted house where a young journalist meets an abrasive ghost hunter. Not only do they find the treasure of attraction, passion and love, but they uncover secrets in the house from a long, long time ago…

When Ivy begins to have dreams that are unnaturally realistic she discovers the mystery surrounding the deaths of the occupants of the house in the 1800’s. But what about the missing baby? Did he live or die? What they’ll learn is the calling of a spirit can reach far beyond the depths of death.

This year I have a paranormal releasing with Lyrical Press, Castle’s Fortress. The storyline focuses on a deep-rooted connection between the hero and heroine. Together they are strong and they have the power to open the door into the spirit world. When Fall’s sister goes missing she seeks out Jake’s help in finding her. But Jake fears the worse. He knows that together they release spirits, but once the window is open, they can’t control what slips through. Evil lurks, waiting for the chance to emerge. Not only do they solve a mystery of the past, but a killer haunts them—literally.

In my latest release, Second Chance Cowboy, I wanted to bring in different aspects of tragedy. I wanted to challenge myself to bring a story to readers that would touch upon all emotions. Second Chance Cowboy takes one on a roller coaster of feeling, up and down, and round and round. Anger, depression, sadness, happiness, joy, fear…are just a few of the emotions that hit like a cyclone on the Swift Wind Ranch. Tragedy strikes in many ways but love prevails.

Excerpt Second Chance Cowboy:

Carly squeezed her hands into fists. “My poor husband. How difficult it is for him to manage his inflated ego and keep his zipper closed.”

“We’re divorced, remember?” His voice reeked of sarcasm.

She groaned in irritation. Her pulse pounded in her ears like the beating of a drum. Her claws were showing.

Chance didn’t blink an eye as he gazed at her across the room. “Honey, I can keep my pants zipped just fine. Problem is, you can’t keep your fingers off my zipper.”

Carly’s palm itched to slap him. “We live in a small town, Chance. How do you think it’s possible we haven’t run into each other more than three times in the last two years?” She cocked her chin. “Let me fill you in. I’ve done everything in my power to keep from bumping into you. Do you realize how difficult it is to plan my schedule weeks in advance so I don’t have to see you? Is that a description of a woman who can’t keep her fingers off your zipper?”

“No, more like a woman who’s afraid she’ll forget what screwed up our marriage in the first place, realize she’s made a huge mistake and get her ass back home.”

“Humph, fat chance that’ll ever happen.” She fumbled with the sheet in irritation and gave her hair a toss over one shoulder.

Damn, he did have a point, although she’d never admit it to him.

“Yeah, right, Carly, because you can’t ever forgive and forget, can you? You think you’re the only one who has lost, don’t you?” His eyes became steely pools of green. His voice turned low and controlled. “I lost Devon, too. He was my son--our son. How long are you going to keep blaming me for his death?”

Carly swallowed the painful lump in her constricted throat. “I don’t blame you.”

“Could have fooled me.”

“We both know why I left.”

“We do?” His bitter laugh split the air with its razor-sharp intensity. “I know you want to hold on to the belief that I am the bad guy who drove you away, but isn’t it time you took half the responsibility for the failure of our marriage?” A trace of compassion softened his expression. He tugged on his shirt and finger-combed his hair.

“It wasn’t my fault you cheated.” Once she said it, she wanted to yank the words back. Too late, just like their relationship.

“You’re a broken record, sweetheart. It’s not worth denying the accusation any longer. Maybe eventually you’ll believe your words and feel justified in leaving. Devon died, Carly. He’s gone and we can’t change the truth. One of us needed to make the decision to let him go and I made it. I held out hope you’d eventually find a sliver of forgiveness in your cold heart. I guess I was wrong.”

The old wound broke open and her lungs emptied of oxygen. She wanted to lash out at him, tell him to go to hell, but the words didn’t come. Instead, she whispered, “I’m going to the bathroom. When I get back I want you gone.”

“Carly, you’ve become an expert at sucking all the joy out of your life and pushing away anyone who reaches out to you. You’re living in a self-made prison, founded on guilt and pain, and there is no key to unlock the cell door.”

BUY Second Chance Cowboy HERE:

Ronda Lee Carver website

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***
Rhonda, thank you so much for visiting Driven2Danger and treating its readers to a wonderful post which will remain active until the crack of dawn Friday, March 4th. Dreaming Ivy sounds like an intriguing read and a story that must be fascinating to write. Your description of Castle's Fortress gave me chills--do you have a release date from Lyrical Press yet? As for your yummy Second Chance Cowboy, I can't imagine anyone passing up an opportunity to read it. Thank you for sharing your challenges and accomplishments with us. Best of luck in all your endeavors. Sandra

Editor Pet Peeves

2011-02-22T04:30:00.000-08:00

Rhonda Lee Carver and I extend our apologies to those of you who expected to greet her today. As often happens at inopportune times, life has claimed Rhonda’s undivided attention. She will appear on Driven2Danger this Friday, February 25th to share her vision that everyone deserves romance--one page at a time.

In the meantime, I’m posting on Pet Peeves discussed at a recent editors’ panel. They all offered excellent advice that should trim time and frustration off your submission process, or shoot your contest entry to the winning spot. There’s nothing new here folks. These peeves have been shared with writers ever since I started, and, no doubt, years before that. Do yourself a favor: Take them to heart.

1.) Lack of Proofreading: This is the biggie! This is #1! Every editor agreed a submission sent with multiple errors warned of, in their opinions, an author who doesn’t care about the work and lacks the professional focus vital to a satisfactory completion of the editorial process. They encouraged everyone to use a spell check program and then double check that. Those programs miss words like there used for their or they’re. Also, words like in case used for encase.

Check for your favorite words/phrases repeated to distraction. In order to catch those, you’ll have to read aloud many chapters at a time. You’ll begin to hear them when you’ve read them over and over and over again during a long reading. Jot them down and use the Find function to search out, destroy, reword as many as possible.

Check for details that don’t match. You might have a night scene described as if it were seen in broad daylight. Your story might have a neighbor who just moved next door but knows things that happened to the main character five years ago. Beware a perfectionist who stuffs clothes into dresser drawers or a kissy, huggy character who blanches when someone touches them.

Historicals: Validate and research information so appropriate words/phrases/props are used for the chosen time period.

2.) Defiance of font/formatting guidelines: When a submission doesn’t follow simple instructions provided by the publisher, editors worry about the writer's willingness to consider advice. No one wants to work with a difficult writer.

3.) Start your story in the right spot: Start in the moment when your characters’ lives change. Giving the reader a history lesson on pages 1, 2, 3, slows the pace and prevents the story from moving forward. The same goes for long paragraphs of Jim or Suzy’s childhood on pages 8, 9, or 10. Dot, drip, sprinkle only those bits of backstory imperative to that moment in the story.

4.) Point of View: This is divided into two problems--head-hopping and deep pov. In head-hopping, the reader sees or understands what’s happening through eyes and/or minds of multiple characters involved in that scene. These are often the main characters, their best friends, maybe the waitress, boss, or innocent by-stander. These head-hops last a paragraph or three, bouncing from one to the other with confusing frequency.

Instead of head-hopping, stay in the point of view of the character with the most at stake during that scene or chapter. Focus on that character’s thoughts, perceptions and emotions. Let the reader get to know them, feel for them, relate to them on a deep, intimate level before smoothly transitioning to another character with a big stake in the story. This pulls your reader into your story. The characters matter to them and keep the reader turning pages until they reach The End because they NEED to know what happens. They NEED to make sure these characters win their happily ever after. Isn't that the goal of every author? To write that unforgettable story?

Which brings us to Deep Point of View. As the editors said, this is not a listing of generic details from the perspective of that proverbial see-all, know-all fly on the wall. Editors want to know what your character sees and feels. How they see and feel it. How it affects them personally. How they react. A fly could see two people talking in a room. Your character will have a different perception because he or she is INVOLVED. They don't know what the other person thinks or feels, but they can surmise, hope, or fear. Step inside your character, see what they see, feel what they feel at that second in time, INSIDE as well as outside. Remember, when an editor asks for deeper POV, they want you to dig deeper, describe from the intimate perceptions of your character. Again, that should be the goal of every author, to create characters your editor, your reader knows intimately and cares about deeply.

5.) Backstory: This was touched on in #3. Character or story history, otherwise known as backstory, slows pace. If it involves a long paragraph or several paragraphs, it sends the reader backward. Stories do not flow backward! Resist the urge to tell everything you know about your characters. Share only what supports their goals, motivations, and conflicts, and do so only when it’s necessary. If an old boyfriend or nemesis is going to interrupt an intimate or crucial moment, by all means, mention them ahead of time to forewarn your reader. Use the power of three--forewarn, forewarn, show. Read your favorite author to see how they kept your interest moving to each new page. But, be aware that a long established author’s style may be what their reader expects, buys, while your editor might question those same techniques used by a debut author.

6.) Telling vs Showing: "Look" and "feel" are two BIG words of Telling that editors see. Naturally, your character needs to look somewhere. Constantly saying he looked there or she looked here can be tiresome. Editors want to know HOW they looked and especially HOW they felt. Exchange those two overused words for the real action, emotion, and gesture. Accomplishing that charges your scene’s atmosphere. For example, Sarah felt her body shake as she looked at Trey. Do you really care? Yes? No? Maybe? Now, compare with that line with this example that shows, (cliché warning) Sarah’s shaky fingers clapped over her lips. She snapped her gaze to Trey. Can you “see” the difference? Do you care now? Do you, your editor, and your readers want to hear, see Trey’s response? I hope so.

7.) Passive writing: The use of "There was," or any variation, to start sentences received strong rejection from the panel. A reader wants to be plunked into the thick of things, and the way to do that is through active verbs. Utilize senses. Let your reader taste, smell, feel, see, hear your characters’ personalities. Virtually every unpublished writer uses visuals, yet ignores or short changes our other senses. Stretch for those little explored senses, use them in ways that fit and reveal your character while describing what’s happening, or where/when it happens. Create imagery that places the reader in your scene. Unknowns produce fear and discomfort. Space and time give a sense of when and where. Almost as bad as passive writing is a story that unfolds through long rambling sentences. If you need speed, use short quick sentences that show bursts of action, dialogue, or information. At those points in a story where a slower pace works, longer, descriptive sentences carry the load.

A personal downfall in the early years of my writing included what the editors collectively called 'laundry listing.' This is when an author 'lists' events. An example would be: Jane dressed, ran her errands, and came home. She put away her groceries, poured a glass of pop, and then checked her email. She returned to the kitchen, added her dirty glass to the nearly full dishwasher, and turned to face the phone as it rang. (Oh dear, I recently read something like that in my current ms. Drat. I thought I’d moved past that. Sheesh. Hang on while I write myself a warning! OK. Got it. Sorry for the interruption. Continuing on now--) Try to make your actions flow and don't apply too many activities in a string because that’s how they’ll read--like a string of events.

8.) Graphic language: F..k you! I don’t know about you, but I’m offended! There’s no purpose in the use of that phrase within this post. That’s my heartfelt opinion. However, when used in context with a story by a character that would deliberately, emotionally choose that wording to express their involvement, then it works. Editors, too, frown on graphic language used for shock value alone. Be sure that when you use those types of words/phrases they enhance your story, create tension or show emotion, passion.

9.) Product placement: This is the use of specific product names within your story. Editors worry readers equate this with character snobbery. It often dates writing, too, and can open an author to legal risks. Explore other avenues to show a snob while being aware of using trade names like Kleenex when tissue works effectively.

10.) Last in this list but not least, editors mentioned a fast return on requested revisions raises red flags for them. Experience has shown them that authors need time to work through the revision process, especially when an editor asked for expansions. An early return usually means extra scenes have been inserted rather than deeper explorations of characters or story line. All of the editors on the panel emphasized that authors should take time to think through requests. Consider how, where and why they’ll impact the character or entire story. The editors promised they weren’t going anywhere. They want your book to be the very best possible. Make sure you touch on everything asked for and then go over it again before sending it back so you don’t miss a key element, or two, and risk that rejection.

I hope this post helps you challenge your writing and view your flaws and your strengths in new light. I know it helped me!

Interview with Metal Artist Blacksmith and Cowboy Ronnie Galloway Part 2

2011-02-17T05:00:00.000-08:00

Sandy: Welcome back readers. While I'm featured at Rhonda Lee Carver's Author Spotlight, my guest Ronnie Galloway will continue his visit to Driven2Danger. Sunday, Ronnie and I discussed his work as a metal artist blacksmith. Today we'll be talking about his ranch, his international adventures, even a bit about his bull riding.

Ronnie on Nickle on left (copyright)

Let's start with your ranch, Ronnie.

Ronnie: I bought my first ranch in 1976 before I was even out of the Army. It was three hundred twenty acres on East Mamm Creek south of Silt, Colorado. I started with a herd of thirty cows. When I finally sold that ranch, I was running approximately three hundred head of cows, and a thousand yearlings. Again, I’m not bragging, I was one of the bigger outfits on the Western Slope of Colorado when I quit. We had semi trucks. We had backhoes, bulldozers, trucks, and such. We had an agri-business where we did custom farming and were involved with guiding and outfitting. We leased thousands and thousands of acres of farm ground and owned 720 acres. It was a big outfit.

Sandy: I know you like to use old fashioned methods of ranching.

Ronnie: Yeah. I do on the ranch I have now. I spent so much time on machinery in the early days, that on the place I have now, which is a small place, I like to slow things down and do it what some call the old fashioned way. I like to call it the progressive way. On a small outfit, you cannot afford to put a lot of money in equipment. One of my passions...(he laughs), here we are going back to your question on passions. One of my passions is horses. I never would have done any of the things I’ve done if it weren’t for my passion for horses. So, I love to farm with horses. When we started on my last ranch, we fed in the wintertime with horses, but we never farmed with them because we had too much acreage and we had to do too much work. But, when we bought this place we were confronted with buying a small tractor or using horses. So, we use horses. That decision was a no-brainer. We don’t farm 100% with the horses, but we’re getting closer and closer to it. That’s pretty much our goal. It takes a long time to rebuild 100 year old equipment I also use modern equipment with the horses. Sometimes you can work faster with horses. For instance, raking the hay. It goes a lot faster because you don’t have to pull out and come back in. Well, it’s a little hard to explain to people who don’t know about farming, but with horses you can stop and walk them around the end of the windrow. That saves a lot of time.

Sandy: Plus, you don’t have equipment breakdowns.

Ronnie: You always have equipment breakdowns.

Sandy: I meant horses/engines. But, you’re right. Horses throw a shoe, come up lame, etc.

Ronnie: The thing is, you don’t have to smell stinking diesel smoke and horses are quiet. All the years I spent on a tractor, anymore I’m just mad when I get off one. With a horse, you can only work as hard as the horse. You have to let them rest. While they’re resting, you can look around and enjoy your surroundings.

bear cub (copyright)

Sandy: Do you take your camera into the fields with you?

Ronnie: I take my camera everywhere I go. I just started that a very few years ago, because I see things the normal person never sees. I decided I should capture some of the things I see and show other people. And, I’m an artist. I like all aspects of art. I’ve traveled around the world looking at indigenous peoples rock art it intrigues me. So, that’s another thing I do.

Sandy: You told me you think of yourself as adventurous. Is the travel connected to that?

Ronnie: Travel is definitely a part of being adventurous. My wife and I don’t go to Disneyland type places. We go to places that are way out. We’ve run into some really nasty situations in our travels because we don’t go to normal, tourist type places. I was attacked by a shark in the Bahamas, got in the middle of a drug transfer off Andros Island and witnessed the apprehension and interrogation of a murderer in Belize.

Surfing at Kauai (copyright)

Sandy: What trip would you repeat? Or, would you repeat a trip?

In Africa (copyright)

Ronnie: I generally wouldn’t go back to someplace I’ve been, but I’d go back to Africa in a heartbeat. It’s an interesting country. The animals and stuff are just...fantastic. And, they have a very interesting culture. But, it’s also a very dangerous place to be.

Sandy: Did you have some sort of dangerous experience while you were in Africa?

Ronnie: Not in Africa, no. We try, (he laughs) we try to avoid dangerous situations. But, any time you are around animals and nature it is dangerous.

Sandy: Did you get into a situation that you really kicked yourself for trying?

Ronnie: No, I wouldn’t say that. Well, it’s just that sometimes I do know when to keep my mouth shut.

Sandy: Do you believe you can plot your future? If so, what will it be? If not, why not?

Ronnie: Plotting my future means adding more adventure to it. I’d never just sit around. I couldn’t live a sedentary life. I’ve never sat around and not looked for adventure. Well, I don’t actually look for it. It kind of appears on its own, and I embrace it. You know? I’m not an adrenaline junkie by any means. I love the adventure...let’s say the thrill of the hunt. Maybe it was always in my family. That’s what we do. That’s how I’d plot my future. What’s the next big adventure we can go on? Even if it’s just going for a ride. That’s fantastic. That’s an adventure. I’m not going to just sit down and watch someone else do it on TV. I won’t stagnate.

Sandy: If you were to choose one adventure you could do for the rest of your life, what would it be?

Ronnie: (He laughs.) Oh, I couldn’t do that. I love variety. I need variety.

Sandy: Oops. Let me re-phrase that question. If you had two days left to live, what would you do?

Ronnie: Ride.

Sandy: Where?

Ronnie: Anywhere.

Sandy: Just to be on horseback and be outside. I love that.

Ronnie: Just ride.

Sandy: Who’s your favorite horse?

Ronnie and Nickel (copyright)

Ronnie: Nickel.

Sandy: Why did you name him Nickel?

Ronnie: He came with that name. He’s my riding horse. He’s the best horse I’ve ever had.

Sandy: Why?

Ronnie: He can do anything. I’ve broke, well trained, to be politically correct here, I’ve trained several hundred horses in my life, yet I bought this one. He’s very frustrating because I can’t catch him. He’s got an attitude. He doesn’t like to be petted. But, he will do anything asked of him. He does. He’s an unbelievable horse. He’d climb a cedar tree if you asked him to. I can ride him without a bridle. He can do all those fancy tricks, like side pass. I don’t get off to open a gate. I rope off of him. I even rode him in the Aspen parade. A lot of horses can’t be ridden in a parade. Especially one like him, a cow horse that hasn’t been to town much. He’s just an amazing quarter horse.

Sandy: Is there anything else you want to add?

Ronnie: I used to ride bulls. I wasn’t very good at it, but I did do it. Everyone around here used to ride bulls. Like I said, I wasn’t very good at it. I didn’t make any money at it. I should have been a bronc rider because I wasn’t built to be a bull rider--too tall--and I loved riding bucking horses better than riding the bulls. But, I don’t know, I just did it. That was during high school and a little after and then I went into the army. I did three years in the army. It was very different for a kid who grew up in the mountains of Colorado. I’m glad I did that. I’m also glad I didn’t have to go to Vietnam, which I signed up to do.

Sandy: To get back to bull riding. What’s the key to staying on?

Ronnie: Balance. And, knowing how to do it.

Sandy: What’s the key to getting off?

Ronnie: Throw yourself backward. Just be sure to let go first. See, you have your hand in your wrap like this high between your thighs. (He illustrated.) You let go, undo your wrap (he jerked the imaginary rope out to the side), and throw yourself back. Hopefully, you do a flip and land on your feet. That’s the safest most of the time. I was riding back when guys hadn’t thought of wearing a helmet or flak jacket. Most of us didn’t even wear teeth guards. Losing teeth was just part of the sport. Like the parties and the girls. (He grins.) After I was out of school, this old girlfriend wrote me a postcard. She’d moved to Cody, Wyoming. She wrote, Ronnie, they have bull riding every night up here. You could make some money. So, I tied my riggin’ on my motorcycle and headed for Wyoming. I only got as far as Meeker, Colorado. Several nights later, I ran out of money. I found a job at a feed store. Well, after not making much money and spending what little I did earn on parties and girls, the city condemned the feed store, then I lost my job and joined the army.

Basically, the real reason I got into bull riding was for the parties and the girls. I should have left those alone.

Sandy: That’s a fresh perspective on the dangers of bull riding. Ronnie, thank you so much for sharing bits of your life with my readers. I appreciate your time and frankness. I hope you’ll enjoy the additional questions and comments your interview generates.

READERS, please stay the extra minute or two it takes to ask Ronnie a question or share your appreciation with him.

**This coming Tuesday, romance writer Rhonda Carver will blog at Driven2Danger. Stop by to read her news.

Interview with Metal Artist Blacksmith and Cowboy, Ronnie Galloway - Part 1

2011-02-13T17:45:00.000-08:00

I met Ronnie Galloway through a nationwide volunteer program. Tall, loquacious, with a kind heart and keen sense of community, Ronnie epitomizes today’s cowboy hero. He works his ranch with horse power, partly out of respect for his land, tradition, and conservation, partly out of sheer love of that lifestyle. He’s also achieved repute as a metal artist blacksmith. I’m proud to introduce Ronnie Galloway.

Ronnie Galloway on his road grader with Dusty and Alex (copyright)

Sandy: Welcome to Driven2Danger, Ronnie. I’m pleased to have you here.

Ronnie: I’m happy to be here, Sandy. You’re the first person to ask me to talk about my life.

Sandy: Then, let’s get right to it. Finish this sentence: I see myself as __________________ because ___________________.

Ronnie: I see myself as a multi-talented person. I just don’t see myself as any singular thing. I feel if I try and teach myself something new every day, or have somebody teach me something new every day...well, if you don’t, you stagnate or wither away. You have to stretch yourself.

Sandy: What is the newest challenge you’ve attempted?

Ronnie: The newest? The computer. (He laughs.) I think my wife and I are doing very well. I’m ‘getting’ it. My wife bought me the computer because I’m an artist. I started leaning toward taking photographs and I needed a way to store them and work with them. I see a lot of interesting things that I doubt other people have the opportunity to see in cities or other parts of the world. We’re up here close to the wilderness where most people don’t come. I’m outside a lot; I see nature as it happens. I realized I can take a photo and then keep it for us or share it with others. Maybe work on it (using software) to make it better. Maybe not. I think I’m pretty good, good enough for others to enjoy my pictures, too.

Sandy: Identify your passion in life and why.

Ronnie: I have two, being an artist and a rancher. Those are my passions in life. Those are the two things I aspired to be and I was lucky enough to become highly successful in both of them.

You also have to include my wife. Judy is also the passion of my life. She has a lot to do with everything I do. We’ve been together for over twenty years. During all that time, we’ve maybe been apart one week.

Sandy: What have you done that surprises others when they find out about it?

Ronnie: I’ve become successful at everything I’ve done. I’m not bragging, but the people I grew up with are surprised that I’ve been successful at everything I’ve tried to do. I love what I do, and I’m good at it. I don’t think success should be measured simply by how much money someone makes. It’s about being happy in your life. I’ve been lucky with the passions in my life. I got to do them, and I’ve been successful at them.

Sandy: Do you think the success came because you were passionate about them?

(copyright)

Ronnie: Definitely. I worked hard at them. That was the key. I worked really hard at them in order to be successful at both of them. I don’t believe anything comes easy. I’m a metal artist and a master blacksmith. I also make jewelry. It’s become one of my latest interests. But, I’m an artist. My main interest is metal sculptures. Giant ones. Little ones. Anything out of metal that looks cool by any means necessary to do it. I’m not just a master blacksmith; I’m a traditional blacksmith. But, I also use modern methods to get the look I want in my piece. I use welders, plasma cutters, and machines sometimes to create my work. That’s why I describe myself as a metal artist blacksmith. Some people are just a traditional blacksmith, but I’m an artist.

Sandy: Which tools do you commonly use as a traditional blacksmith?

Ronnie: The hammer, the anvil, and the forge. You have to have fire, water, and power to create anything out of metal. You have to heat the metal and pound it out.

Sandy: Do the heat of the fire and weight of the hammer have anything to do with what kind of metal you’re using?

Ronnie: Oh, it depends on the heat of the fire. Yeah. It depends on all that and the kind of metal you’re using. I’d like to say it’s easy, but it is not easy. You have to learn it. Like anything else worth doing, it takes dedication. It takes years and years to acquire the skills needed for the work I do at my level. I’ve not only studied under the best, like Francis Whitaker but I’ve taught a lot and learned a lot from students that either mess up or accidently do something that makes you say, “Wow. I didn’t know that was possible.” When that happens, the student and I learn something new simply because they didn’t know what they were doing. They don’t follow traditional paths. I learn a lot from teaching, so I teach a lot--I teach traditional blacksmith skills.

Sandy: What’s your favorite metal to work with?

Ronnie: I work with mild steel. That’s a modern version of wrought iron. Mild steel is basically what everything is made of. There’s also high carbon steel which is used in tool making and stuff like that. I’ve also worked in copper and in brass, anything that looks cool.

Sandy: Which of your projects gives you the most pride?

Silhouette (copyright)

Ronnie: I’m proud of all my work. The one that brought me the most acclaim is not necessarily the one I’m proudest of. I am proud of it. It’s a fourteen foot by two and a half foot silhouette that made the Travel Channel. That’s the one that made me the most fame. Now, the one I’m proudest of, the most difficult piece, is a foot by foot sculpture that I did of a man in a globe. I won’t say what I got for it. It’s up at Woody Creek outside Aspen.

Man in Globe (copyright)

Sandy: What was the challenge of that piece?

Ronnie: I tried to do it in totally traditional ways, which means I forge welded it and...well, trying to make a globe out of quarter inch bars to be perfect was a real challenge. I had a pile of metal about three feet high by the time I finally got the piece I was satisfied with. It took me a long time.

Sandy: Was this your idea or one someone brought to you?

Ronnie: This was totally my idea. That’s the only work I do anymore. I no longer take on commission projects.

Sandy: Ronnie has more to share with us. We'll be talking about his ranch, his international adventures, and bull riding. Join us Thursday for another fascinating visit.

READERS: Please stay the extra minute or two it takes to ask Ronnie a question or share your appreciation with him.

I Am Not a Public Speaker

2011-02-11T00:01:00.000-08:00

I am a writer.

I am a control freak.

I am a perfectionist.

I am not a public speaker.

I prefer writing. I prefer sitting in front of a laptop controlling what my characters do and say. I prefer editing until my pages are as close to perfection as I’m capable of creating at the moment.

I am not a public speaker.

Yet, I am speaking tomorrow afternoon at a gathering of writers.

At least, I know my subject--e publishing. At least I can identify with my audience--writers, writers attending an award ceremony. I’ve attending a few of those, as a finalist, as a spectator. I can relate.

The first contest I ever entered, of any kind, was sponsored by an RWA chapter in Louisiana. Weeks after I mailed in my entry, I received a call at 2:25 in the afternoon. The woman explained she was the chapter’s contest coordinator and had the pleasure of notifying me I was a finalist. I stammered nonsense. She laughed and assured me she was enjoying my surprise and pleasure. After I hung up, I jumped and hollered and cried. All I had expected were critiques from judges who knew more than I did, knowledgeable people who would advise me on how to improve my characters, setting, plot, everything. Another afternoon interminable weeks later, I received The Call. I’d won 4th place. Woohooooo! I was a winner. I was good. I could write well enough to rate higher than other entrants.

I could be published one day.

Three years later, in a bizarre accident, I learned there had only been 4 entrants in my category.

It didn’t matter. By the time I heard that tidbit, I had been chosen a finalist in other contests. My confidence in my abilities as a writer had grown.Years have passed since then. I've studied, practiced, and submitted. Now, I am published!

But, I am still not a public speaker.

However, I agreed of my own free will to speak to tomorrow’s gathering. A person needs to learn something new every day. Tomorrow’s lesson will be public speaking. I will do my best, whatever that turns out to be. Maybe my audience will award me 2nd place. After all, one cannot expect to achieve 1st place on the first attempt. Besides, there are only two speakers tomorrow.

Wish me luck.

Why I Chose E-Publishing

2011-02-08T00:01:00.000-08:00

BEWARE: Dry facts ahead. It’s a short list. You’ll survive. You might even find it interesting. Please read on.

The Association of American Publishers provides data used to calculate ebook sales in the United States:

In 2002, ebook sales totaled 5.7%. In 2009, they jumped to 168%. In 2010, they reached 439.2%. The projection for 2011 is 724.2% or $724,240,000. Yankee Group forecasts US ebook sales will reach $2.7 billion in 2013.

Kindle books now outsell Amazon’s print sales.

Nora Roberts has sold over 1 million ebooks.

Did those figures grab your attention?

They did mine. They led to my decision in November 2009 to submit to The Wild Rose Press. Those figures now count as one of my reasons for submitting my second romantic suspense to them.

Preditors and Editors recently voted TWRP the Best E-Publisher of the Year, for the third year in a row. That and TWRP’s practice of offering their longer books in both digital and print formats are two more reasons I intend to stay with them. The print form satisfies those of us used to the smell and feel of a paperback in our hands. The electronic format appeals to those with busy lives and a Kindle, E-Reader, smartphone, etc. The list of electronic reading devices and apps seem to grow hourly as do the number of those using them.

The Wild Rose Press provides free e-books that are well written and cover a wide range of romance sub-genres like romantic suspense, paranormals, time travels, erotica, and so on. The company believes in making it easy and cost-free for newbies testing the electronic age.

If you’re curious how many e-publishers are available, just Google the subject. Directory of E-publishers lists 58 and there were a few I know of that aren’t included. Be sure to check Preditors and Editors’ website for their warning page which offers guidelines for avoiding scams throughout the publishing industry. Preditors and Editors’ website is chock full of useful information. Be sure and stop in.

Just like traditional publishers, e-publishers post their submission rules on their sites. You’ll notice that rather than incurring printing and postage costs to submit to a traditional publisher, you get to send your query, partial, and full, all free of charge, via email. Timelines for responses are shorter and the length of time from contract to book release is also quicker. Are some traditional publishers moving into the twenty-first century? Yes. However, e-publishers have been there from their beginning. For instance, I submitted my query for Caught by a Clown in the afternoon and had a request for the partial that evening. A request for the full arrived about a week later. I signed TWRP’s contract approximately three months after that. My book release occurred about eleven months after I emailed my query to them. Easy, schmeasy.

Easy doesn’t translate to low quality. Gone are the early days of some e-publishers accepting poorly plotted stories with heroes or heroines who deserved to die just so the publisher had books available for purchase. Editor experience levels are wide and varied as they are at most publishing houses. Some new hires might work under a seasoned mentor who may have thirty years in the business. TWRP’s cover artists are highly talented individuals that turn stock photos into creations that grab the reader at first sight. Also, we authors have a strong level of input on title choices. Yiiipeee.

About now, you’re wondering if every aspect of e-publishing is positive. Of course not. We’re talking about real life here. TWRP, like many e-publishers, doesn’t offer an advance. Those who do usually offer a few hundred dollars at most. These details will be available on the websites.

Now, it's time to discuss marketing. Traditional publishers ship huge print runs around the country; bookstores prominently display new releases; advertising is arranged by the companies. Except those advertising budgets for mid-list and debut authors have grown smaller and smaller, and those authors spend more and more of their money and time arranging their own publicity.

TWRP automatically sends our books to a long list of reviewers. We’re free to seek others. Email loops for reader/author interaction are maintained by TWRP, and they provide access to and promotion days with organizations such as CoffeeTime Romance, The Romance Reviews and others, as well as email loops like these two yahoo groups, Rites of Romance Chatters and LoveRomancesCafe.

If you’re teetering on the edge of submitting to a traditional publisher or an e-publisher, I hope this information helps you.

Author Roast and Toast

2011-02-04T00:01:00.000-08:00

Today and Saturday, I'm the guest at Author Roast and Toast, for a Big Top celebration of, you guessed it, my romantic suspense novel, Caught by a Clown.

The book has received solid reviews from readers:

Lois Z said "Hi Sandra, it's 5 am here in Jersey and I just finished your book. The fact that I stayed up all night to finish it should give you an idea on how much I enjoyed it! I really liked Stacie, she reminded me a little of myself when I was younger. David certainly was everything you want a hero to be but human and making the mistakes we make when our emotions are messing with us. ...You really have a way of writing a love/sex scene and I enjoyed that as much as the suspense and realizing during scenes like Stacie's fight...when I was holding my breath. lol! I'm sure you have a hit here and I hope you are already working on book 2 because I can't wait to read more. Gotta sleep. L"

Vicky at Sizzling Hot Book Reviews gave it 4 stars:

"David and Stacie...bring out the best and worst in the other, and that is fun to watch! It is also nice to see them grow as characters and realize that they have been hindered in the past by their situations and outlooks... Caught by a Clown never slows down..."

So, stop by Author Roast and Toast, leave a comment, and find out how the book's title ties in with the characters and a quirky tattoo. Be sure and leave your contact information along with your comment because someone will win a free PDF copy of Caught by a Clown and a Valentines Day gift box.

See ya there!

Genealogy

2011-02-01T00:01:00.000-08:00

I recently “friended” a woman on the east coast with the same last name, but no relation that we can find, so far. What does this have to do with Thrills, Challenges, and Perseverance? You haven’t been bitten by the genealogy bug, yet.

Granted, locating a member of your family you didn’t know about before isn’t a THRILL, but it is a thrill. Unless, of course, they then hit you up for money you don’t have. Or, ...any number of obnoxious traits relatives can dump upon the unsuspecting. The living ones, that is. Thankfully, genealogy digs up ancestors who can’t ask for anything. They can reveal secrets some prefer left buried. I was surprised to find I had first cousins (my family, not my husband’s) who married. It was in the 1800’s. They lived in the frontier where courting options were few and far between. I guess it made sense to the families to join those two young people. Sounds logical to me. However, the first time I realized this man and wife were first cousins, too, I thought I’d made a mistake because so many of our early family members repeated names through the generations. Yet, finger counting, double checking, and a call to my mom (queen of our history) confirmed my revelation. Yes, I was the last to know. LOL

Genealogy a Challenge? You bet. Spelling changes. Handwriting resembles hieroglyphics. Court records are misfiled or might be one hundred pages long; a lot of words to search for one mention of one name that may or may not be an ancestor. When you do find the name, is your ancestor George the same one mentioned or does the name written down belong to George who was born into another branch of the family and not the Great-Great-Great Grandfather you’re looking for. They both lived in the same town and were born the same year. Grrrrr, why couldn’t my family be more imaginative with monikers?

Perseverance is researching one family member at a time, back through moms and dads, aunts and uncles, grandparents, great-grandparents to locate that hiccup where Great- Great-Grandma Susie was married to Great-Great-Grandpa Herman, except Great Aunt Susie’s birth records says her father’s name was Hiram. ROFL

If you haven’t tried this exercise in frustration and elation, consider taking on an activity that can quickly become an addiction.

Good Luck.

BTW, do not attempt this unless you have extra storage space!

The Friendly Woodpecker

2011-01-28T00:01:00.000-08:00

My woodpecker pair is back, and they brought friends. I don’t have a picture; they’re too fast. But, I researched woodpeckers online and discovered mine are probably Northern Flickers, the Red-Shafted variety, since I live in Colorado.

These beautiful birds are about ten to twelve inches from head to tail tip and have brown bodies with black bars on their backs and wings. They prefer my pine trees, resting on the branches between bouts of beak pounding work against the tree trunk. I’m guessing the one with the red streak that extends from the base of his beak, sort of like a moustache, is the male. The mister of my pair seems to concentrate solely on living wood while his lady is the one I occasionally catch knocking on my house. I haven’t seen them in my deciduous trees. That doesn’t mean they don’t drill them like they do the pines. I do have a picture of that.

I haven’t seen them on the ground either, probing for ants like research stated. Insects are their primary food. Fruits, berries, seeds, and nuts round out their diet. One book said flickers “...have a behavior called anting during which they used the acid from the ants to assist in preening, as it keeps them free from parasites.” Hmmm, learn something new every day. Something else I read explains why I once saw the female head down in a cow patty in our pasture; their tongues can dart two inches beyond their bills in search of live, nutrient-rich larvae. YUCK! Totally gross!

The drilling, or drumming, they do not only scares up food, but serves as a form of communication and territorial defense. Ah, light-bulb-over-the-head moment, concerning ear-splitting racket from the tin roof on my storage shed. It was once reported that a Northern Flicker in Wyoming could be heard drumming on an abandoned tractor from a half-mile away. Awesome.

Scientists say red-shafted flickers have lived as old as eight years and nine months. Now, how do they know that? Did one of them band a flicker chick and follow it all those years? That’s dedication.

Flickers are cavity nesters who prefer to excavate their own home. This chore takes one to two weeks of head throbbing work by both birds. A family, or clutch, typically consists of six to eight smooth, white, glossy eggs incubated by mom and dad for about twelve days. These eggs are the next to the largest of the North American woodpecker species. Only those of the Pileated Woodpecker are bigger. However, to end this post on a one-upmanship note for the flicker, their call is a happier, sustained laugh, more pleasing that the Pileated’s.

New Experiences

2011-01-27T09:05:00.000-08:00

My first internet radio interview will air today Jan 27th at Romance Radio Network http://romanceradio.net/ , which is also available on iTunes. I hope you listen in. I enjoyed talking to the host, Desmond Haas. He really has a knack for making people comfortable and drawing out interesting memories and opinions. To my surprise and delight, he said some wonderful things about my writing and Caught by a Clown. We chatted for about an hour, but he told me the show will last 30 minutes after editing.

My first review is also available at Sizzling Hot Book Reviews one of the many, diverse reviewers to which my publisher sends new releases. I enjoyed reading Vicky's review and appreciate her nice comments. Here's a short sample:

“David and Stacie ...bring out the best and worst in the other, and that is fun to watch! It is also nice to see them grow as characters and realize that they have been hindered in the past by their situations and outlooks... Caught by a Clown never slows down...”

Read more at http://bit.ly/h5E6OI

I'm thrilled with Caught by a Clown's release week and appreciate everyone's support.
Thank you,
Sandy
w/a Sandra Crowley
Buy Caught by a Clown here: http://bit.ly/gattut

Introduction to Danger

2011-01-25T00:01:00.000-08:00

The first time I deliberately, knowingly courted danger, I jumped from the railing around our sundeck. My intended landing? The roof of our neighbor’s carport. I was nine years old when I leapt. Small, strong, fearless, that micro-second before I launched, I realized I should have listened to my sister and watched her have fun instead of seeking the thrill for myself.

Yeah, right.

I had something to prove. I always had something to prove. I could do anything anyone else my age could do. Of course, my sister was two years older. But, that wasn’t the point. I believed any nine year old could jump that distance.

Let me set this up for you. My sister was running from the living room, out the sliding glass door onto the blue sundeck that topped our carport, where she jumped onto the white railing and launched to the roof of our neighbor’s carport. Then, she shinnied down the corner support post, ran across the side yards into our recreation room, up the stairs, out the living room to repeat while I played lookout.

My sister had warned me to stay back and only watch her while keeping an eye out for our mother, who had gone to another neighbor’s house for a cup of coffee, a neighbor who didn’t have a view of our sundeck from her windows. But, lookout had traditionally been a duty saved for sissies whenever we thought of a cool trick to try with our friends. So, when I realized my sister’s longer legs and greater strength easily carried her across the side yards (ten feet below the rail top) and about two feet in from the roof’s edge, I believed I could successfully make that same leap.

I waited until my sister started her latest shinny down the corner post. I retreated to the living room, took my stance as she had, left leg, side and arm forward, knees slightly bent, hands curled into loose fists. On a deep breath, I drove out my strong right arm and leg for that first, all important, step. I raced through the open glass door, across the blue sundeck, whose wavy surface stole micro-bursts of momentum, and up onto the four inch wide, wood railing. Sun curled paint chips bit into the ball of my bare foot.

Acres of cool green grass stretched far below me. Shimmering gray shingles waited for me too far away. I heaved with every sinew. Wind whistling in my ears, heart pounding in my chest, I strained for my landing. Toes gripped the sharp, grainy edge. Palms, then chin, scraped and burned on hot shingles. I sprawled, rolled, and jumped into the air. “YEAHHHHH”

“Sandy,” my sister screamed. “Are you okay? You’re bleeding.”

“I’m perfect. I did it.”

“You dufus! Mother’s gonna kill us when she sees you.”

“She’ll fuss, but she won’t kill us unless you tell.” I knew my sister wouldn’t. She didn’t have a death wish, either. Besides, Mom was used to seeing me scraped up. A week rarely passed that I didn't collect wounds whose scars she warned me would haunt me when I became a young lady. Not. I'm still hard on my body, but it's sore muscles rather than raw skin that haunt me now.

To get back to this post, as long as we both watched for Mom, we had at least another ten minutes before she might head home. Ahhhh, free flight. Soaring. Weightless. Fearless. Finesse the landing. Learn. Adjust. Push perfection. Conquer!

Mom caught us when fall temperatures cooled the open living room. We suffered our punishment and moved on to greater thrills. Someday I’ll post about those.