Wednesday, March 31, 2021

One Storm, Eight Authors by Rue Allyn #anthology #Regency


Do you love Regency? There's some wickedly good stories out there you'll want to read. Welcome Rue Allyn to tell us about them. 

Thank you, Brenda, for the chance to share a little about my writing and latest publication. Before we get to my story, Wait for Me, I’d like to give a little background about The Bluestocking Belles—authors (along with a few friends) of the Storm & Shelter novella collection. 

Several years ago, I was invited to join a small group of authors, who call themselves The Bluestocking Belles. I was honored because several of the members are on my ‘always read’ list. Each of the Belles has her own publishing career, but together our purpose is to write the best researched, most entertaining Regency era novellas to be found. We succeed at that ambitious goal more often than not. The next collection being released on April 13, 2021 is Storm & Shelter, and I think it is among the best our group has ever produced. 

The Belles’ collections are distinguished by the cooperative background created for all the stories in that collection. Previous collections have been set in an English house party, the 1814 Frost Faire, the environs of Bath England, and now for Storm & Shelter, a rundown inn in the once prosperous village of Fenwick on Sea situated on the east coast of England. This area is noted for its ferocious storms, so of course we had to include a storm as part of the setting. Researching the setting, the climate, the problems and benefits of a town on the cusp of rebirth was tremendous fun, and led to the discovery of the most likely characters to get stranded at the inn. The array of characters sheltering at this inn include lords, ladies, a blacksmith, a school teacher and her students, a couple of captains of commercial vessels, a fence of stolen goods, one or two military officers, a gossip columnist, and a pirate traveling incognito. The pirate—she would say she’s a privateer—is the heroine of Wait for Me. 

Why did I choose a pirate? To explain that, I must go back several more years to when I was with a
publishing house and my editor wanted me to write a series about some dukes. Dukes at the time were wildly popular and therefor overdone. I and the rest of the reading public were getting a bit tired of them. I offered instead to write about a trio of Duchesses. The first of those stories became The French Duchess. The next in the series—which I had not thought much about—would be The Pirate Duchess. Inspiration for that book finally struck when the Belles decided to create Storm & Shelter. My lady pirate turned out to be an orphan raised by a pirate and trained to succeed him. But she makes him a deathbed promise to discover who she truly is. That promise, leads her to Fenwick on Sea where, according to a diary, her mother was married. She is there to get a copy of the church records and hopes they will lead her to her ‘real’ family. So, Wait for Me became a sort of prequel to The Priate Duchess. I’m still working on this duchess story, so I can’t tell you when it will be available. What I can tell you is that authors as talented as Bluestocking Belles just about guarantees any collection they produce is first rate in every novella as well as the connecting pieces. If you’d like to learn more about The Bluestocking Belles you can find us

About Storm & Shelter: When a storm blows off the North Sea and slams into the village of Fenwick on Sea, the villagers prepare for the inevitable: shipwreck, flood, land slips, and stranded travelers. The Queen’s Barque Inn quickly fills with the injured, the devious, and the lonely—lords, ladies, and simple folk; spies, pirates, and smugglers all trapped together. Intrigue crackles through the village, and passion lights up the hotel. One storm, eight authors, eight heartwarming novellas. 

Storm & Shelter is available for pre-order at a reduced price until April 13, 2021 when it is officially released and price goes up. 

About Wait for Me: Esmeralda Crobbin, aka the pirate Irish Red, and Captain, Lord Brandon Gilroy were enemies by nature who first met during a battle at sea. But fate trumps nature when a fierce storm creates a chance encounter and forced proximity. Brandon learns the pirate is a woman of serious honor and responsibility. Esmeralda discovers the captain is more than a uniform stuffed with rules and regulations. Both love the sea with boundless passion, but can they love each other? 

About Rue Allyn: Award winning author, Rue Allyn, learned story telling at her grandfather’s knee. (Well it was really more like on his knee—I was two.) She’s been weaving her own tales ever since. She has worked as an instructor, mother, sailor, clerk, sales associate, and painter, along with a variety
of other types of employment. She has lived and traveled in places all over the globe from Keflavik Iceland (I did not care much for the long nights of winter.) and Fairbanks Alaska to Panama City and the streets of London England to a large number of places in between. Now that her two sons have left the nest, Rue and her husband of more than four decades (Try living with the same person for more than forty years—that’s a true adventure.) have retired and moved south. 
When not writing, enjoying the nearby beach or working jigsaw puzzles, Rue travels the world and surfs the internet in search of background material and inspiration for her next heart melting romance. She loves to hear from readers, and you may contact her at  She can't wait to hear from you. 

Find Rue Online:








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Monday, March 22, 2021

Resort to Murder Series Goes to New Mexico by Avery Daniels #MuseMonday #CozyMystery

Please join me in welcoming Avery Daniels to Discover... It's always fun to learn why an author writes what she writes.

One piece of writing advice I received early on was to write in whatever genre I read, and I read a lot of cozy and amateur sleuth books.  I like how justice is served; the villain is caught, and for a few hours I am on the trail of a killer.  The vicarious thrills in the safety of my locked home appeal to me, so of course I started writing a cozy mystery series.

I often hear the advice to write what you know.  I grew up in a town with a historic five-star resort.  On a sunny Sunday afternoon, I would go to the resort and walk around their man-made lake and feed the ducks.  I celebrated special occasions at their exquisite restaurant, my employers held holiday parties there, and I won tickets to and attended a LPGA golf tournament at the resort.  So it was easy to make the setting for my cozy series this resort with the idea to have every other book at a resort my sleuth is visiting.  I have also volunteered over the years and helped plan and facilitate events, from retirement luncheons to signature fund-raising events with silent auctions. I have worked with hotel staff from soup to nuts on events, so I knew a good bit of what goes into Julienne’s task in that vein of her job.

After I settled on the resort as a backdrop, Julienne solidified as the lead character. Julienne is a young professional who skipped college for a manager-in-training program at the local five-star resort. Her dream is to manage resorts around the world to satisfy her wanderlust and desire to experience other cultures.

In the first book Julienne finds her sleuthing legs when she is the prime suspect in the murder and we are in her historic “home” resort inspired by the Broadmoor.  For book two, Nailed, the resort was a luxury Bavarian themed ski resort in Vail, Colorado inspired by Sonnenalp.  The third book, Spiked, was back at Julienne’s home resort.  This fourth book, Arrowed, is the first to venture out of Colorado.

In Arrowed, a cutthroat venture capitalist grabs Julienne by the ankle and with his dying breath says “the curse got me.”  The Enchantment Canyon Resort, where this occurs, is entirely fictional.  It is a combination of resorts and ideas I merged for the story.  I wanted the feel of a Mexican villa merged with a world class health and wellness resort.  I love Santa Fe and its unique mixing of Mexican and Native American cultures and foods and thus I wanted a resort that reflected the rich cultural heritage. 

I had terrible timing on Arrowed, though.  Here I am writing a cozy mystery set in Santa Fe, only a five-hour drive for me (and one of my favorite places to visit), and Covid made it impossible to do any personal research.  Fortunately, I have been several times and have many fond memories to rely on and supplement with internet research.  Just a tip: any trip to Santa Fe means you should plan on eating and drinking some of the best food in your life.  The food is one highlight of any trip there for me, along with the Margarita Trail!

If you have been to Santa Fe, or New Mexico, what are your favorite memories?

Book Trailer:


It all began when a dying man with an arrow in his chest grabs her ankle.
During a heat wave at a Santa Fe resort, Julienne has the resort owner pressuring her to solve the murder. The victim is a high profile business man who made enemies rather than friends, leaving Julienne with a roster of suspects. She was supposed to be training the staff and spending quality time with Mason rather than investigating a murder. The heat turns up when an old girlfriend of Mason's checks in and is determined to get back together.

Arrowed is the fourth book in Avery Daniel's Resort to Murder series and is an exciting contemporary cozy mystery. If you like Cleo Coyle, Maddy Hunter, Duffy Brown, Lynn Cahoon, and Annette Dashofy, then you'll love this series with a strong intelligent sleuth, lavish settings, and tantalizing mysteries.

Buy this spunky clean cozy mystery and start enjoying Julienne's adventures today!

Purchase Links:


B&N Nook:

B&N Print:





Avery Daniels was born and raised in Colorado, graduated from college with a degree in business administration and has worked in fortune 500 companies and Department of Defense her entire life. Her most eventful job was apartment management for 352 units. She still resides in Colorado with two brother black cats as her spirited companions. She volunteers for a cat shelter, enjoys scrapbooking and card making, photography, and painting in watercolor and acrylic. She inherited a love for reading from her mother and grandmother and grew up talking about books at the dinner table.




Amazon Author Page:


Friday, March 19, 2021

Moving to the Great White North by K. D. Richards #FearlessFriday #RomanticSuspense


Please welcome K. D. Richards as my guest blogger today. Moving can be a scary adventure. Moving to another country and culture takes a fearless attitude. Enjoy this reading adventure. 

The last several years have been challenging in more ways than one. 2020… well, possibly the less said about it the better, but let’s just say it’s been a slog. But just prior to the pandemic my family embarked on an adventure by moving to my husband’s childhood home of Toronto, Canada. 

When my sons were born we made sure to get their Canadian Citizenship certificates and we visited his side of the family as frequently as we could so that the boys would have some exposure to Canadian culture and customs. We often discussed the possibility of moving to Canada at some point so when my husband’s dream job opened up in Toronto, the idea of moving to Canada wasn’t completely foreign. For my part, I’d always dreamed – in that way you do when you think about doing something but take absolutely no steps toward making it happen! – of living overseas. Although, Toronto isn’t exactly on the other side of the pond, it is a foreign country and I was open to an adventure.   

That said, the move wasn’t without it’s pains. Most of my family lived within driving distance of our home in Maryland, my mother still in the home I grew up in less than ten minutes away. I had a job I loved teaching legal English and writing and a host of friends. In short, life was pretty great already. Did I really want to make such a big change? And with two kids under the age of ten? 

In the end we made the leap. My job agreed to let me telework – way before all the employees were teleworking – and my family moved to the land of maple syrup, hockey, and Drake. There were growing pains. Winter in Toronto took some adjusting to and the kids were none too pleased to find out that schools don’t close when it snows here. But the kids have loved getting to know their cousins and my mother-in-law is overjoyed to have her baby boys and his boys nearby. 

Although we live in the suburbs, we’re close enough to downtown Toronto to take part in the arts, culture, and activity that makes Toronto one of the most vibrant cities in the world. The best part of making the move is that it gave me the opportunity to really focus on writing and that led to my first book contract. I now channel the two hours a day I spent commuting to and from DC into building my career as an author and I could not be happier. 

All in all, the move was a good decision for my family – scary at some points, yes – but that comes with change. I miss my mother and brother often, but Maryland is only an hour and a half plane ride away and pre-pandemic I’d gotten good at finding great last minute deals on air fare. I can’t say we’ll live in Toronto forever but for now I’m loving my little adventure. 

K.D.’s first book, Pursuit of the Truth, was published by Harlequin Intrigue in February. The second book in the series, Missing at Christmas, will be published in September 2021. 

Pursuit of the Truth Blurb

His skills can keep her safe. Her secrets could get them killed…Security expert Ryan West’s worst fears come to life when hotel CEO Nadia Shelton is pushed in front of a taxi and nearly killed. Someone will do whatever it takes to find the brother Nadia thought was dead, and the only way Ryan can protect her as they uncover the truth is to stay strictly professional. But the sparks igniting between them are nearly impossible to ignore. 


Author Bio

K.D. Richards was born and raised in the Maryland suburbs just outside of Washington, D.C. A writer since a young age, after college she earned a law degree and worked as an attorney and legal instructor for fifteen years but never stopped writing fiction. She currently lives in the Toronto area with her husband and two sons. 


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Monday, March 15, 2021

Ripped From the Pages... #MuseMonday #Inspiration #wrpbks


When I don't have a guest on Muse Monday, I'll share excerpts with photos that inspired scenes from my books. The scenes are most likely never before shared excerpts. 

One afternoon, hanging with my sister, she complained about her last disappointing date. She was divorced, and sick of dating and being single. I always told her, jokingly, “you've had more men in your life than any one woman deserves, so buck up.” I suggested her dating life would make great fodder for a short story. I sat at my computer and told her to recite a characterization of every man she'd dated, starting with the ill-fated relationship with the G.I. in Germany who took her on a date to the Black Forest and didn't get past the first tree, so to speak. I titled the working file "Of Men and Bullshit." 

Over the next few weeks, the story grew. I had so much fun telling the tale of a fifty-year-old woman who’d not found Mr. Right or a career. I added a few fictional escapades, but the men who appear in the book are real enough. And by the way, I couldn’t fit in all of them. Sleeping with the Lights On ended up becoming the first full-length novel I published. 

Ripped from the pages... of Sleeping with the Lights On

A secret admirer, a redheaded stalker, and an eccentric millionaire have thrown Sandra Holiday on a dangerous path. 


“Carson, have you ever considered dating?” I couldn’t get over the six marriages.

“Dating? You mean instead of marrying.” He shrugged. “I’ve been rethinking it…since Melanie, who next to you was the best marriage I’ve had, and even then she didn’t compare with you. You’ll always be the best. Special.”

He melted me with his choice of words. I couldn’t speak. Carson told me I had been one of those really good things about his life. The adage came to mind—you don’t know what you have until it’s gone.           

“Man, tonight is good chili weather.” He stretched his arms in appreciation of a nice spring

A Minneapolis lake

Minnesota evening. The phrase rang pure Texan. I guess you can’t take Texas out of the Texan no matter how long it’s been. “Let’s do this again tomorrow night, Sandra.”

“I can’t. I have plans,” I said relieved. Sort of. This evening, supposedly a one-time meeting should be a brief hello. I had a life.

“The person who called you earlier?”



He actually said good. Why did he find every aspect of my life so pleasing?

“Then lunch?” He took my hand. “We haven’t had nearly enough time to talk. Unless, we extend this night some more.”

“I don’t think that would be such a good idea.” Actually, it would be a great idea for all the wrong reasons. “I have to get up early for work.” I needed to call Wesley and put Carson out of my mind. Carson Holiday needed to slip back into my past.

“Then I’ll take you to lunch.” He nudged me with his shoulder affectionately.

“When do you go back to Vegas?”

He hesitated. “In a day or two.”

“You sound rather vague.” And still allusive. What could be the big secret about this charity gig he couldn’t divulge?

“I have a few more things to find out. I’ll be out of here as soon as I get all my questions answered. It’s complicated.”

“Carson, honestly, how complicated can a gig—”

He pulled on my hand, bringing me around to face him. We’d reached the edge of my apartment complex. My head said turn and run, but my legs wouldn’t respond, mushy from wine or too much Carson and moonlight. I couldn’t be sure which.

“Have lunch with me tomorrow, darlin’.” He peered into my eyes, not smiling. His hand let go of mine, and his fingers gingerly brushed along my forearm while I couldn’t break the connection of his gaze. “Another hour of your time with a long-lost friend?”

Minneapolis winter

“Yes.” My voice went all husky and come-hither. I wanted to kick myself for being so easy.

“Good. What’s the address of your office?” He took my hand again, leading me toward the door of the building. I struggled to shake off the moon shadows and to remember where I worked. Once inside the building, I took a scrap of paper from my purse and wrote the address.

“And now I’ll walk you to your door and say goodnight,” he said tucking the scrap of paper in his pocket. “Unless you want to have me in for a goodnight drink.”

I didn’t answer. If he’d known my uncertainty about my renewed attraction to him, a little persistence might have made me cave.

“Okay, then—” His mouth gaped.

I followed his bewildered look to my apartment door the scrawl of lipstick.


We both stared at an ordinary piece of white typing paper, taped to my door, with no marks other than the one word. He gave me one of those arched-eyebrow-quizzical looks, but I couldn’t find my voice. We glanced back at the paper like maybe we missed something. The black, block letters couldn’t be mistaken for anything other than what they said. And I knew whose artful hand had branded me.

“What have you been up to since we last saw each other, darlin’?”












Monday, March 8, 2021

Communes and Chickens by Margaret Ann Spence #inspiration #MuseMonday


Please help me welcome Margaret Ann Spence. This post has a couple of my favorites mentioned...chickens and communes. Yum on chickens, and communal living has fascinated me for decades. You'll enjoy the guest post today!

As I walk around my suburban neighborhood these mornings, I hear the cluck of chickens. 

Brrtuttututt, brrtuttuttut, they warble, the first syllable on a higher note than the second two. 

It’s a sound that makes me happy, because I grew up with chickens. They lived in a large caged area in our back yard, a wired enclosure with a latched gate and a roosting house .Never have I seen again such golden yolks as those from our eggs, for our chickens were well nourished and had plenty of room to strut about. 

Years later I lived in the bucolic town of Lincoln, Massachusetts, where chickens and all manner of livestock thrive in backyards and small farms. The photo is of the free-range chickens at Codman Farm, the town’s community farm. 

The commune members in my new novel, Joyous Lies, keep chickens. These fictional chickens, like our flock, had individual personalities and were named. 

Yet the life of a chicken comes to an end, as do we all. I learned not to be sentimental about this when my father selected an aging hen for our dinner. He’d lay the chicken on his chopping block made from the cut-down trunk of a tree, and axe its head off.  I don’t know why the chicken lay there passively in this uncomfortable position. I guess Dad must have twisted its neck mercifully before decapitating it. Later, I “helped” my grandmother when she plucked and gutted the bird. 

Life with livestock and birds can be messy.  Looking back, it seems to me that we then had  more respect for the creature and for the work involved in feeding ourselves than when we scan rows of plastic-wrapped pieces of flesh in the supermarket. Our squeamish denial allows us to buy breasts in one packet, legs in another so we don’t have to recognize that these birds once had individual lives. Whether we view animals and birds, plants and trees as equal partners in the balance of life, or whether we see them solely in terms of how they can benefit us is one of the questions at the heart of Joyous Lies

Thank you, Brenda, for this opportunity to tell readers about one of my inspirations for Joyous Lies!

Readers, if you liked the book, it would be truly wonderful if you could post a review!


If plants can protect their young, why can’t humans do the same? 

Maelle Woolley, a shy botanist, prefers plants to people. They don't suddenly disappear. Raised on her grandparents' commune after her mother's mysterious death, she follows the commune's utopian beliefs of love for all. Then she falls for attractive psychiatrist Zachary Kane. When Zachary claims her mother and his father never emerged alive from his father's medical research lab, Maelle investigates. What she discovers will challenge everything she believes, force her to find strength she never knew she had, and confront the commune's secrets and lies. What happened to love? And can it survive? 


All those years of seeking peace from the commune by walking into the forest and lying on the ground, feeling the earth underneath her, cool, prickly with twigs, alive. She’d lie there and just listen. The forest was blessedly free from the din of humans, the only sounds birdsong and the rustle of small animals. And after a while the forest itself spoke, full of noises. A regular cacophony of crashes and bangs, squeaks and murmurs. Not just the soughing of the trees in wind, but creakings and tearings. Trees were not passive at all. 

How to Buy Joyous Lies: 




The Book Depository:                     


Wednesday, March 3, 2021

Wicked Inspiration Ripped from the Pages by Connie Cockrell


Authors are always on the lookout for story ideas. Our books might be fiction, but they are usually pulled from the pages of real life. And we all know how wicked real life can be. Connie has great insight for you on just such a story. Take it away, Connie:

I sometimes write cozy mysteries so I’m always alert for strange events in the paper, the tv news, and so on, that I can use in my stories. A few years back, our local paper ran a news article that the police had found a car, overturned in a ditch just inside the town boundary. There was no driver around. The underside of the car had an unexploded IED attached to it. That certainly piqued my interest. There were so many questions! Who was the driver and where did he or she go? Who put an IED on the car and why? How did the car crash? Why didn’t the IED go off? None of my questions were answered in the article.

I tucked the idea in the back of my mind and went on about my business. Then months later, I was writing my second book in the JeanHays cozy mystery series, Mystery in the Woods, and the IED came back to mind when I needed to put my poor character into some danger. So I had Jean drive her car into a drainage ditch, (she was under attack at the time) and the police found an IED under her car.

Here’s a snippet.

"It's a bomb, Chief." The Explosive Ordinance Officer, dressed in full gear, held his helmet under his arm.

"Details?" Nick was pissed. In all the history of Greyson, no one had ever bombed anything. Now there was one attached to the bottom of a friend's car.

The EOO pulled off his bulky gloves. "It’s an IED. I saw plenty of them in Afghanistan. An explosive type as opposed to chemical or biological or some other type. This one had a cell phone trigger—safer for the bomber, as they can be anywhere when they call from the trigger device."

Nick took off his hat and ran a hand through his hair. "Damn. Why didn't it go off?"

The EOO shrugged. "The wire leading from the detonator to the charge was disconnected. Not sure if that was an error on the bomber's part or it came undone when the car flipped."

"Oh, for the love of God." Nick put his hat back on. "Anyway to figure out who did this?"

"Not really. I can make an IED pretty quick and from random parts. If we get lucky and the bomber was stupid, he left prints. I can try and track the explosive. It’s C4, so there's a taggant, generally chemical, that will let us know the origin of the stuff. But I can't guarantee that will be helpful. A lot of C4 is stolen every year. Just because we know where it was made won't really tell us where it's been since manufacture."

"That sucks."

"Yep." The EOO began to unbutton the protective suit jacket. Even with the cooler temperatures of October, his hair was plastered to his head. "I'll run the IED though the database. We may get lucky and have a serial bomber whose stuff has been documented. A pattern would be helpful to track him down."

"You keep saying he. Why is that?"

"Bombers tend to be men. There are a handful of women bombers but it's mostly men."

Nick nodded. "Thanks. Let me know, will ya?"

The EOO nodded and trudged back to his van.

Wicked, right? Have you ever read something in your local paper about something weird? I’ll bet you have. Feel free to share in the comments. 


A 20-year Air Force career, time as a manager at a computer operations company, wife, mother, sister and volunteer, provides a rich background for Connie Cockrell’s storytelling.

Cockrell grew up in upstate NY, just outside of Gloversville, NY before she joined the military at age 18. Having lived in Europe, Great Britain, and several places around the United States, she now lives in Payson, AZ with her husband: hiking, gardening, and playing bunko. She writes about whatever comes into her head so her books could be in any genre. She's published twenty books so far, has been included in five different anthologies and been published on and Connie's always on the lookout for a good story idea. Beware, you may be the next one. 

Mystery in the Woods Blurb

Welcome to Greyson AZ. Population: dropping fast. 

Once again uncovering secrets both old and new, Jean soon finds herself in a race against time—they planted what in her car?—to figure out who the mastermind is behind some dark and grimy things going on in the town. It’s a race she can’t afford to lose, but will she be able to figure out the answer before she goes one step too far? 



Tuesday, March 2, 2021

Dear Diary, Episode Four #diary #TeenLife #Arizona

This is actually the last of this series. After consideration for my current schedule (I'm writing three books and editing three books for other authors), I have decided to suspend this experiment for now. 

Dear Diary is a serialized account of one girl's teen years in the 1960s. Although based on my own diaries, the story is fiction. The angst, family drama, and joy are real enough for teenagers in any era. This is an experiment for me. I'm sharing with you the rough, first draft, the skeleton, of what could become a novel. If you  missed any episodes, go to the Index in the right column and click on “Dear Diary” for past posts.


On the following pages is my life from January 1 through December 31, 1964. Freshman and Sophomore years at Columbus High School. Go Stallions! My best friend in grade school, Janice Schmidt, gave me this diary for 8th grade graduation. I’m fourteen, 5’5”, blonde (made blonder by Gentle and Blonde), and I weight 124. I live with my mother, father, sister (Sandy age 11), and my brother (Davie age 2). 


January 21, 1964 Tuesday

Dear Diary,

Today was a pretty good day. Pep Club meeting after school was fun. Not really anyone I hang with in the club, but they’re all cool with coming up with ways to keep kids involved in school activities. I’m going to have to quit eating lunch and save the money so I can buy some red shoes for Donna’s Valentine’s Party. I should be able to save enough by then.

Mel called tonight. He tested me to see if I remember the date we met. Of course I did. He’s been keeping count of the days too. He has three dates on his calendar. One is my birthday and another is the day we met. He won’t tell me what the third date is, but it has something to do with me! I’ve been trying to figure it out. Is he going to ask me to go steady? I don’t know what else it could be.

Parents are getting so tight on the length of my phone calls. I wonder why? Ha!

January 22, 1964, Wednesday

Dear Diary,

Today was great except for one thing. Mum forgot to pay the phone bill, and now we’re without until Friday. How does that happen? She’s a housewife whose job is taking care of the house. I didn’t say anything. How can I? Daddy didn’t seem the least bit upset. Screwy.

It rained today. Rain is beautiful, or rather the rain brings out the beauty around me. When the trees are washed clean, they literally sparkle against the gray clouds. And everything smells so great. Daddy says what I’m smelling are thankful desert plants. He says the mesquite bushes and palo verdes trees give off that fantastic odor when they’re wet. That’s all great, except for my hair. When it rains my hair goes flat and straight.

I’m sure I did great on my English test. Luckily, the Algebra test was postponed. I can always use more studying time for the hated Algebra.

Corrine told me Mel is going to ask me to go steady. He’s also going to have my own phone installed in my bedroom. I can’t possibly accept that. That’s like so big, I can’t even get my mind around it. Of course, he can’t call me tonight, so I can’t tell him that. I sure hope he comes by the school when we let out tomorrow. Unknown to Mum and Dad of course.

January 23, 1964, Thursday

Dear Diary,

Corrine told me Mel worked last night and tonight. I’m missing him something awful. I’ve thought this through, examined my conscience, and if Mel comes by to get me after school tomorrow, I want him to bring me all the way home. My parents don’t know he’s picked me up from school and taken me to Donna’s. I might as well see what happens if I have him bring me all the way home. If they found out about the other times, ou wee! And I’d feel so awful. Like I’m sneaking. So before they find out, I’ll have him bring me home and confront the issue in the present tense.

January 24, 1964 Friday

I love Fridays. What kid doesn’t? I have next to no homework so that’s cool. Mel didn’t come after school. At least I got to talk to him on the phone at Donna’s. Our phone is still dead. It’s odd. I asked Mom about it again, but she said she wasn’t sure why not. Anyway, Mel had to overhaul an engine at some airport. Donna and I went to the game and dance. We won! Go Stallions! 5th straight win. The dance wasn’t much fun. Guess I miss Mel. I’m getting to know George Barnley better. He kept making funny faces at me. He’s a real nut. I met Jake Klerk, Vice President and a junior, at school today. We talked a while at the dance. He’s a kook too. Gary Sanders brought a girl from another school to the dance. I wonder how long this one will last? That’s all I can write.  Yawn. I miss Mel.

January 25, 1964 Saturday

This afternoon, I went to Sharon Pritchard’s, and we got five of the eight count beats for the Pom Pon dance we are supposed to make up for P.E. We’re doing it in pairs. Sharon and I are talking about trying out. Kind of scary, but I really think I want to be a Pom Pon girl.

Donna spent the night with me tonight. We studied some. She thinks my dad is cute which kind of creeps me out a little.

January 26, 1964 Sunday

Dear Diary,

Fun day. Donna, Evan, Mel, and I rented bicycles built for two. We must have covered 15 to 50 miles!! I’ve got cuts on my legs. My butt is sore. I can’t imagine what I will feel like tomorrow.

This evening, I had another discussion with my parents about dating. I started crying. Guilt flooded me. My heart pounded. My scalp felt like it was rippling with goosebumps. I told them about Mel driving me to Donna’s sometimes after school. All of my angst was for nothing. Well, maybe not nothing. They said I need to be more honest with them, but I was excused. What a relief. Incidentally, my parents are really sweet. I love them both so much. I love my whole family. Sandy and Davie are the best sister and brother ever. Love them!  


 “Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.”

Monday, March 1, 2021

Escape to a Beautiful Location #KU #staycation #reading


We're all going crazy in one way or another over this year. Yes, it's been a year since we've closed ourselves off. Things are getting better, but who can't use an immediate escape? 

Reading is a great way to explore, even in the best of times. You can vicariously enjoy locations that can't even make it to your bucket list! 

So grab that drink or cup of whatever, open a book, and take off to another world. Here are a bunch of books that promise you a great escape...

Click here and enjoy the trip! Your Destination for Fun

The walls are closing in! It's time for a #Getaway . All of these books have something in common...a destination you can get lost in and take a virtual vacation. #staycation #Reading Click Yourself a Vacation