I'm still learning about what love really is....
My childhood was filled with love...parents, grandparents, brothers, and extended family member all showered me with love.  I have a few friends that I truly love, although not to lessen the feeling I have for my family, I would spell it 'luv'.  I know I am extremely fortunate to have met my 'soul mate', my true love in my late teens, and we married and raised our five children together and now share five in-law children and so far six grandchildren.  Love is amazing in its capacity to grow.  We are not born with a certain amount of love and then have to divide that amount of love on the people in our lives.  It just keeps flowing....That love, that married love, that feeling of wholeness you get when you are with your soulmate... is quite remarkable.  
I've come to learn a few things about love recently.  One thing I've realized, is about the concept of soulmate.  The part of us that connects to and is attracted to another person is not the physical self but the soul.  We usually say it's our heart that falls in love, but it is our essence that draws us to another essence.  Our souls connect.  And our souls are not defined by  physical characteristics.  Our souls are not limited by size or shape, by color or gender.
Love in itself is a gift of the soul.

Guest Author... Bill Blodgett

Today I would like to introduce you to my critique partner and friend, Bill Blodgett.  

Alee - Hi Bill.  Welcome to my blog.  You are my first guest author.  Your third book is titled Unrequited.  Tell us what it is about.

Bill - Unrequited is a story of everlasting love, heartbreak, addiction and the courage of the human spirit to fight back against all odds. Travel back in time to this peaceful New England community during the simpler days of the post WWII era of 1955, and join Joe on a reminiscent walk down Main Street America to the Five and Dime where he’ll ask Kathy out for the first time.
Visit the Connelly’s home as Kathy and her family gather around their potbellied stove and trade stories of family values and of Chester, the fabled family protector. It’s the picture-perfect family Joe’s always wanted and when he calls on Kathy, he’s welcomed with open arms. When he proposes and she says yes, their future promises them an idyllic lifetime together, but fate breaks that promise and Joe’s plans are turned upside down.  Suddenly the peaceful 1950’s become his prison and the keys to his prison are hidden away in the true meaning of life as told to him by Riggs, an elderly black man with roots in slavery. Riggs shares his three truths with Joe as they’ve been handed down for generations, but there’s more to Riggs and his three truths than meets the eye.

 

Alee - I LOVE the cover.    So this is a historical romance?

Bill - Unrequited is a historical mainstream story with romantic elements.

 

Alee - And you have two other published books?

Bill - Yes. Dead or a Lie and its prequil Saints Sword.    

 

 

 

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Alee - Tell us a little about Dead or a Lie.   I love the title.....

 Bill - A sun allergy predisposes Lee Teadora to a solitary existence as the night security director of New York Medical. Endless nights watching uneventful images on her security monitors make her desperate for excitement.
Be careful of what you wish for…
One night, while visiting her father’s grave, a group of bloodthirsty vampires attack her. Despite her martial arts training she is outmatched. She should be dead… or undead, but she survives.
Lee isn’t alone in her battle. A shadowy figure watches from afar… protecting her.

Alee- and the prequil? Saints Sword.

Bill - 
1332 Eastern Europe: The worlds of God, Goddess and Satan collide in this epic tale of love, revenge and forgiveness.
Two years ago Nicolai’s life as he knew it ceased to exist. On that one horrific day his wife was murdered and his daughter abducted and he’s been on the hunt ever since.
But the baggage he carries is heavy— guilt. Guilt of not being there when he was needed most. Guilt of believing he wasn’t the husband and father he should have been haunts his every waking moment but above all else he’s determined to rescue his daughter from the ruthless clutches of the vampire known as Lord Valnar and destroy him to avenge his wife’s death. Kaira is also on the hunt. Barmaid by necessity and hunter by choice she too has been injured by these blood thirsty beasts. Kaira and her companion, Gustav, have been destroying Valnar’s legion of undead for years, but at a high cost—her heart. She’s already seen to many of her comrades fall prey to Valnar’s men and she’s vowed not to let her heart get in her way again. Gustav, the Preacher, has a much different goal. For him it’s neither revenge nor lost love. His only goal and pleasure in life is to hear the faint utterance of the word “free” as a soul is released when a vampire is destroyed.
Together, Nicolai, Kaira and Gustav join forces toward one common goal—destroying Valnar. After rescuing the witch, Jessica, she joins the group but finds herself at odds with Gustav and his Christian beliefs. Nevertheless they band together to destroy Valnar, but all hell breaks loose when Nicolai hears whispers on the wind warning him of betrayal and he begins to doubt everything and everyone around him. Even though he is surrounded by his friends and lover he feels alone. Will he be betrayed by his lover, the preacher, the witch, the mercenary or his own heart?

Alee - I've read all three of your books and really enjoyed them.   Tell us a little about yourself.

Bill -  I still live in the community where I met and married my lovely wife, Janice. Actually, she lived around the corner from me and we both ignored each other until our teen years when the hormone thing kicked in and we suddenly realized that the cute little girl skipping rope and that goofy boy riding a bike had both grown up. We are the proud parents of April and Lindsay; both of whom are now married. April married Darren and they have two beautiful boys, Brian and Owen. Lindsay married Tim and they have a beautiful little girl, Kailyn. I enjoy hiking, kayaking, camping, golfing, making candles, and restoring my antique British sports car, a 1972 MGB.
They say to write from what you know, so I do. I write of love, life and relationships.

Alee - Thank you, Bill.  I look forward to your next book.  

My current WIP is titled    His Birthday Suit... and although the title might imply a saucy story... I probably won't write it that way.  I like writing sweet romance... with a hint of spice... but nothing too saucy.... I figured that you, my audience, already knows what happens when the bedroom door closes.       My heroine is Keely, a strong young woman with an abusive past.  She has a seven year old son and lives in an apartment over a men's clothing store, where she works part time in exchange for rent.       The hero, Zayn, comes from a well-to-do family, a snobby but loving mother and a obnoxious , controlling father.  Zayn is not happy working in the corporate world as is dictated by his father and escapes as often as he can to his log cabin in the Adirondacks where he is minutes away from his favorite ski resort.
     After Zayn's significant other runs off to Europe, Zayn's  mother begins planning a festive 30th  birthday. It will be a gala affair and she plans on inviting every single, single female she knows.  She has her hopes set on becoming a grandmother within the next five years and of course, wants Zayn to find happiness.
     Well, of course, Zayn is not going to be attracted to any wealthy daughters of her parents, friends... he likes the girl who measured him for his birthday suit.
I haven't plotted everything out... don't really know how this is going to work... but this in the direction I'm heading.
I always could use some plot ideas, twists and turns and of course, conflicts.  If you've got any ideas share them.... unless you are planning your own book of course.  (this is called brainstorming)  .  
Any ideas...thoughts....suggestions?

Learning the Art of Blog

Yes.  It's an art.  It doesn't come easy...it's not something everyone should do...like brushing your teeth...but if you are learning to expand your social network... blogging is one way to go. (so I've been advised.)
So, I need to create a schedule... to keep my posts appearing regularly.  They should be about writing and reading, books and poetry..... But my interests are diverse so my posts will be too, and I hope you will find some interesting reading here. 
Schedule.... let's see....
Monday - commentary on progress of my current writing project
Tuesday - interview of guest author... I know some really awesome authors....
Wednesday - recipe of the day... this would be really fun if I liked to cook...
Thursday - weather report... Snow  .... this won't need more until April.....
Friday - Plans for the weekend.... hibernate... this won't need more until April either...
Ok, so as you can need my new very exciting blog could use for inspiration... I could really use your suggestions ... What shall I write about?
I'm really excited to introduce you to authors whose books you may not be reading.  So Tuesday is all set.  (author friends... requests to appear on my blog on Tuesdays is requested at this time.)
OK... That is it for today... I need to hear from you....   

Learning Still and Again....

We never stop learning... thank goodness. That is a truth my fifth grade students couldn't quite comprehend..because they already knew everything.  But as we get older our interests seem to branch out and when we are busy raising families and keeping house and a managing a career there is little time to become educated in those things outside of child rearing, home maintenance, and job related updates.
And that is why retirement was invented.  WOOHOO!  I write. I love reading and writing.  Because writing is my passion I attend workshops and classes that will educate me in bettering (a Seuss word) my writing.
BUT...I also want to learn photography.  Oh, I can take pictures....nice ones that tell a story or remind me of a special event.  I really miss the old Kodak Instamatic.  I could just point and shoot. With the camera I have now.... I need a college course.  ( had to take an hour class at the Verizon store just to learn how to use my phone...and I still mostly use it to call.. but I did learn to text...that is fun.  And I can take pictures with it and play games (whose idea was that?!)
I want to learn genealogy  and upholstering and Feng Shui and painting and gardening and how to make jewelry ..... you get the idea.  Learning...and the desire to learn is a never ending story....Isn't it wonderful?
Oh, so now with the release of my book, Men in Ts (in case you forgot the title) I have to learn the art of MARKETING my book.  In the old days... I would just tell a friend and within a short time everyone was informed.  Welcome, Alee, to the age of technology.  I am currently taking a class on how to market my book...no kidding.  and let me add...it isn't easy.
So be patient with me...and spread the word that Men in Ts is available.... WOOHOO!!!!!

Here are two links to purchase a copy of Men in Ts
http://www.wildrosepublishing.com/maincatalog_v1…/index.php…
At Amazon: http://amzn.com/B00QR1BIZM

YAYYY!!!!!!  Men in Ts is available

to you now on The Wild Rose press site or at Amazon.com 

Ghost Story

It's been a month since I've been here.  I've learned something.... the longer i stay away... the harder it is for me to remember how to post anew.  I can never remember my log in name or password.... But I'm here and so are you... I hope you enjoy my post today.
 I was challenged to write w scary story for a writers group  that I belong to locally, and I tried.  I really did... but i didn't feel that it was scary enough.  But... I read it to my friends anyway...and they liked it.  So, I will share it with you....since you asked....
Please make a comment, because I really DO care what you think of my writing.


Ghost Story...rough draft....

The members of the writer’s group sat around the long oak table in the front room of the local library as they had been doing every other Tuesday evening for some months now.  Strangers at first, acquaintances later and now developing friendships this group of eclectic writers  respected each other’s very different writing styles, voices and means of telling a tale.  The assignment for the last Tuesday before the celebration of the Day of the Dead was to create a chilling tale.  The challenge became palatable for ALee as she set her scene and began her story.  Relying on her admiration for Poe and his chilling poetry , and tales of deceit and quiet revenge, or the cremation of Sam Magee or  any of Stephen Kings books that she was too afraid to read after hyperventilating while reading  the chase scene in Salem’s Lot.  Alee loved Halloween.  Gross looking food, masks and hideous make-up, costumes and of course, chocolate candy made this holiday one of her favorites.

And so it was this night, a night of sharing scary stories, without the eerie campfire, that this writer’s group gathered.  So when it was Alee’s turn she shared Chris VanAlsberg’s The Widow’s Broom, a child’s story she traditionally read to her 4^th grade students. And the other writer’s loved it, scary in its simplicity and expressively sketched illustrations. 

My original short story originates here in this library.  It is a tale of secrets, of secrets so ____ that it has never been told before this evening.  One of the books , in plain sight upon these shelves is a diary, an honest confession of a deed so horrendous that the victim cannot wait another moment for the truth to be known.  The book waits….silently …for someone to notice its worn leather cover and the title printed in faded black ink.   

This  Tuesday evening ,  a curiosity lured Alee to search the shelves.  She is not sure what she is looking for and only knows, knows without a doubt that she will find it. She finds herself drawn to the back wall, behind the circulation desk, there amongst the shelves housing books of local history she searches.  She stops. There is a sound… the faint sound of weeping.  She hears a child weeping and glances out the window but sees only her distorted reflection in the wavy pane of glass.  She kneels, lower to scan the books resting on the bottom shelves. The weeping seems to be more audible, a little louder….a little more clear. And then….

The crying stops, as if the child is holding its breath. Waiting.  And the weeping becomes a whimpering , and the whimpering becomes a whisper, “find me.” The child voice urges. “Find me.”

Alee moves the books looking for the tape recorder, or some new technical device that has brought her to quivering.  There was little light here, back in the corner , down by the lowest bookshelves and her body was shading the very space she was examining from the dimness.  She took out her phone and used the flashlight app to see.. Cautiously, she moved and removed books from the lower shelves.   There was nothing technical that she could see, no microphones or speakers, no tiny recorder, but she knew pranksters were very clever and could rig up this scary moment for her with little effort.  She so badly wanted to catch them at their own game.  “Find me” the child voice whispered reminding Alee of her search.

Alee followed the sound, the tiny sound of whimpering.  “Please.” The voice begged.  Goosebumps tingled  Alee’s arms and she shivered.  The flashlight app was strong, and so she searched. She began reading titles and flipping through tissue thin pages of very old books.  Nothing.   “Find me.”

Alee could hear the quiet conversations of the others in the writing group.  They spoke of poetry and autumn and the beauty in the nature of colored leaves.  She rose quietly, embarrassed that she had been so completely fooled, embarrassed that she had been so completely frightened by their hoax.  She stood as she heard a collective chuckle.  They seemed to be pretty pleased with themselves.  Sure, scare the new resident of the town.  Well, it worked.  She was scared. 

As she stood and  tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear  her earring fell to the polished wooden floor and disappeared beneath the bookshelf.  It wasn’t an expensive earring, but it was hammered silver, a gift from her husband and she really liked them as a pair.  She knelt once again and ran her fingers gingerly along the floor, underneath the edge of the antique bookcase. Dust bunnies came alive with the movement of her hand.  She felt a string and pulled it out.  A screech  nearly escaped from her throat as she realized that she touched the skeletal remains of a mouse .   She questioned, only for a second, the value of her cherished earring. Composure regained, she focused the beam of her app light pleased to note that there were no more skeletons, she found her earring and what was that?  A book, seemed to be wedged between the bookshelf and the wall. There was no way she could reach it. She stood.  “Find me.” The whisper voice urged.

Alee found a wire coat hanger in a small closet.  She pulled the hanger out of shape so that it would reach and once again lowered herself to the floor.  She worked the hooked end behind the book and wiggled it free, then carefully, slowly drew it out from its hiding place.  She flipped through the pages. It was an elementary arithmetic text book from 1868.  

She opened the cover to read the penciled inscription.  In childlike cursive, a riddle in the form of a poem, There is a secret that I hold, no man or woman has been told,

     I saw a murder years ago, I can’t tell anyone that I know.

     If you should seek the truth this late,turn to page sixty-eight.

With shaking fingers she turned to page 68.   

     The one who did this evil deed, is filled with hatred and with greed,

     he stole a child, a friend of mine, and hid her where the sun don’t shine.  

Alee smiled nervously hoping , so hoping, that this was some childhood prank.

      I cannot say where she is buried,this child of two who are not married. 

     The husband of her mother learned, the lover of his wife still yearned,

     so in his rage he killed my friend,a sweet young  girl, her life at end,

     If you are one who should know more, turn now to page eighty-four.

Alee sat in a chair behind the circulation desk and turned the pages until she found more. 

For all these years I’ve  feared the man, who killed a child with his hand, and to this day, I cannot tell , for fear he’ll throw me in the well.

I hear her call me, I hear her scream, I see her murder when I dream, Her mother searches night and day, why would her daughter run away?  This tale is true, set my sole free, from the guilt that burdens me, turn now my friend to 93.

Alee turned the pages. 

Do you hear her painful cries? The memory lives behind my eyes.  He hid her body wrapped in rags, beneath a pile of garbage bags. She needs a final resting place, a site of happiness and grace. Go find her now, she waits for you.   Go to page 102.

For all these years she’s had to bode with James and Bill on Black Hollow Road. She aches to rest from running wild, and be with her mother on Fairchild.

Find her now, you must be brave, and lay her gently in her grave.  Listen. Listen. She calls you there.  Find the girl with golden hair.  Her name is Amy, say aloud and she will guide you to her shroud.

“Amy?” Alee barely whispered.  “Amy?”

Alee felt a cold breath on  the back of her neck.  

Remember....please leave a comment.  Thank you.  and have a safe and scary Halloween.