Wake Up and Smell the...Character?
Happy, sad, nostalgic. Grief, pleasure, hope...Books that we remember make us feel deeply. One way we're compelled to experience emotion is through our senses. When a story is told in a way that conveys sound, taste, texture, sight, and scents, we fall into the world the author has created for us.
On a blog with share with our writing group, we contemplated what our character, Cheyenne, would taste like if he was a candy bar. Our sense of taste not only can give us pleasure (ah, I need to write an Ode to Potato Chips), or pain (my brother LOVED chitterlings. If you don't know what these are, trust me. They can't taste good.) Taste can also evoke emotion and memories. I know this might brand me a kook but if I eat a hotdog with my mother's favorite topping it makes me cry.
Smells also seem pretty magical to me. A smell can evoke powerful memories and feelings. I cannot smell Juicy Fruit Gum or Jean Naté perfume without being transported to my grandmother's apartment in Harlem. Scents also have a great deal to do with love and romance. Numerous studies of humans and other animals have demonstrated that we are, at least in part, attracted to scent. And if you don't believe me, just think about the success of the cologne and perfume industries.
Since scents help us to connect to people, and we hope people connect to and in fact fall in love with our characters, it's not crazy that we began to wonder what Chey, and the other hero of our book, Zander, smell like. Zander was easy. He's a guy's guy. Alpha, but doesn't care to prove it to you. Easy going--don't test him. Never pretentious, but confident. Zander smells like Drakkar Noir. This is a fragrance that brings me to my knees.
According to Wikipedia, Drakkar Noir has notes of bergamot, rosemary, lavender, cedar, fir balsam. It has been described by its creator as having "sensual masculine power". Marketing experts have said it "appeals to the dark, macabre, sinister side of masculine sexual fantasies and possibly to myths such as that of Faust". Once you get to know him, it will be clear to you that this is SO Zander. And guess what? We knew that his scent was Drakkar BEFORE we looked up the description.
Identifying Cheyenne's scent was more difficult. But we knew it when we found it.
Do you have a guess about what Chey smells like? Read the book blurb here and let us know what you think! And sign up below for our mailing list if you want to know what he really smells like and how YOU can come to know the same about your character or your book boyfriend/girlfriend.
On a blog with share with our writing group, we contemplated what our character, Cheyenne, would taste like if he was a candy bar. Our sense of taste not only can give us pleasure (ah, I need to write an Ode to Potato Chips), or pain (my brother LOVED chitterlings. If you don't know what these are, trust me. They can't taste good.) Taste can also evoke emotion and memories. I know this might brand me a kook but if I eat a hotdog with my mother's favorite topping it makes me cry.
Smells also seem pretty magical to me. A smell can evoke powerful memories and feelings. I cannot smell Juicy Fruit Gum or Jean Naté perfume without being transported to my grandmother's apartment in Harlem. Scents also have a great deal to do with love and romance. Numerous studies of humans and other animals have demonstrated that we are, at least in part, attracted to scent. And if you don't believe me, just think about the success of the cologne and perfume industries.
Since scents help us to connect to people, and we hope people connect to and in fact fall in love with our characters, it's not crazy that we began to wonder what Chey, and the other hero of our book, Zander, smell like. Zander was easy. He's a guy's guy. Alpha, but doesn't care to prove it to you. Easy going--don't test him. Never pretentious, but confident. Zander smells like Drakkar Noir. This is a fragrance that brings me to my knees.
According to Wikipedia, Drakkar Noir has notes of bergamot, rosemary, lavender, cedar, fir balsam. It has been described by its creator as having "sensual masculine power". Marketing experts have said it "appeals to the dark, macabre, sinister side of masculine sexual fantasies and possibly to myths such as that of Faust". Once you get to know him, it will be clear to you that this is SO Zander. And guess what? We knew that his scent was Drakkar BEFORE we looked up the description.
Identifying Cheyenne's scent was more difficult. But we knew it when we found it.
Do you have a guess about what Chey smells like? Read the book blurb here and let us know what you think! And sign up below for our mailing list if you want to know what he really smells like and how YOU can come to know the same about your character or your book boyfriend/girlfriend.
Paranormal Love Wednesday Blog Hop
We are thrilled to be a part of this week's Paranormal Blog Hop. We hope you enjoy the DEBUT of the blurb for our upcoming release, House of the Rising Son (Living After Midnight, Book 1).
Cheyenne is a half-human incubus whose star is on the rise in the Unakite City rock scene. His father, the leader of the supernatural races, would prefer he keep a “low profile”, but screw that. Cheyenne has as much music in his veins as royal incubi blood.
Alexander's future is all set—finish law school, join the family firm, and marry someone who'd be good for business. Not that he has a say in any of it. He's barely met the woman his father expects him to marry.
As Cheyenne's musical career takes off, his carefully constructed life begins to unravel, exacerbated by an ex-lover who can't let go, a crotchety barkeeper with a dirty mind and a pure heart, a drag queen who moonlights as a nanny, and Alexander—who's not sure if he's falling for the incubus or the rocker.
Cheyenne denies who he is, while Alexander hides what he wants. Together, they learn that getting what they truly want means being who they truly are.
****
Thanks for stopping by. House of the Rising Son will be released on September 22--Check back for more information.
And don't forget to check out the rest of the blog hop. Lots more awesome books to learn about!
Cheyenne is a half-human incubus whose star is on the rise in the Unakite City rock scene. His father, the leader of the supernatural races, would prefer he keep a “low profile”, but screw that. Cheyenne has as much music in his veins as royal incubi blood.
Alexander's future is all set—finish law school, join the family firm, and marry someone who'd be good for business. Not that he has a say in any of it. He's barely met the woman his father expects him to marry.
As Cheyenne's musical career takes off, his carefully constructed life begins to unravel, exacerbated by an ex-lover who can't let go, a crotchety barkeeper with a dirty mind and a pure heart, a drag queen who moonlights as a nanny, and Alexander—who's not sure if he's falling for the incubus or the rocker.
Cheyenne denies who he is, while Alexander hides what he wants. Together, they learn that getting what they truly want means being who they truly are.
****
Thanks for stopping by. House of the Rising Son will be released on September 22--Check back for more information.
And don't forget to check out the rest of the blog hop. Lots more awesome books to learn about!
Monkey in the City
It seemed like a logical decision at the time.
Earlier this month, we headed to the RWA (Romance Writers of America) conference in NYC and, as is our habit, we were taking lots of luggage. We didn't want to drive and I didn't want to fight luggage onto the train, so the bus seemed the best idea. Unfortunately, I had not ridden a bus in years and had no idea how much the experience might have changed.
The first mistakenly uncomfortable realization was that they had apparently designed the bus for school children. That is the only plausible explanation for why the seats were so small. The bus was filled to capacity--Now try to fit two adult sized people into them. My rear has bruises from sitting on the lowered armrest, and a few that I can't explain.
The next ridiculous realization was that our driver apparently thought she was a sightseeing guide because we toured NYC. Literally. We arrived 2 hours past our scheduled arrival time and all of that 2 hours was spent driving around in the city--Bronx, Brooklyn, Harlem, and mid-town Manhattan. People in the back begged to be let out on any street corner to find their own way to Port Authority. There was also lots of complaining because people were missing their connecting buses. I feared there would be a riot. The bus driver might have suspected the same thing because she disappeared as soon as we landed and the doors opened.
Figuring out how to get a taxi from Port Authority to the Marriott took some doing (too many exits, too many empty taxi stands) but finally we arrived. Unfortunately we'd missed the meetings we had planned to attend but we were exhausted and so content to rest and get something to eat.
The return trip was interesting but for totally different reasons. We stood in line over an hour to be sure to get the seats in the front which are slightly more roomy. We needed the extra space, as were were returning with 3 carry-ons for each of us (loaded with books) instead of the single tote we took down. That we were able to get all of our stuff onto the bus was a miracle.
The hour in line was actually fun as we chatted with other travelers and told stories about our exploits. We didn't have help putting luggage into the bins so yours truly managed to knock her brain loose when I hit my head on the door. But I managed to get on the bus and get a front seat even in my dazed (and embarrassed) state. I also managed to hit myself in the face with a book-filled tote-bag I put in the overhead bin. Fortunately, that blow was nothing compared to the bashing from the carrier door.
The driver on the trip home did not take us on a tour of NYC. Instead we went to New Jersey and wandered around there for awhile. I assume this is how he managed to avoid the construction that had our first driver lost. He made a couple of stops, once to check on a broken down bus and once to kill time because we were going to arrive too early. Oops…Could he have been speeding? Surely not.
He was however on the phone through most of the trip—after telling passengers to only use their phones in an emergency and only for a minute or two. Interesting that his rules didn't apply to him. I wonder if he was in violation of some protocol in the Driver's Handbook.
At long last, we arrived in Hartford. We were ever so glad to arrive in our own little city! Given our trip so far, it was no surprise we spent many minutes and an abundance of pedometer steps trying to figure out how to get to the side of the building where people assured us taxis would be waiting. When we finally arrived at that location there was one taxi.
Once we were tucked inside and the vehicle was moving, he asked how much we paid on the trip in to the station. We told him. He thought it over for a minute, mentioned that it might be more until we protested a bit and then he decided no, where we were going that would be an appropriate fee——and he would just not turn on his meter. Having seen ten seasons of Criminal Minds we started looking for places and ways to escape. Luckily, we still had the stench of NYC and bus fumes on us so were not good raw material for perfume (Season 6, Episode 14, Sense Memory). We made it home safely and our girls thankfully put on a barkfest for him as he unloaded our bags.
As is natural for writers, we discussed all sorts of ways our NYC bus adventures could be used in stories. Unfortunately Lil Monkey seems to have beaten us to it. He swears he has a screenplay submitted to SyFy. He's also working on his memoir called Monkey in Manhattan.
Earlier this month, we headed to the RWA (Romance Writers of America) conference in NYC and, as is our habit, we were taking lots of luggage. We didn't want to drive and I didn't want to fight luggage onto the train, so the bus seemed the best idea. Unfortunately, I had not ridden a bus in years and had no idea how much the experience might have changed.
The first mistakenly uncomfortable realization was that they had apparently designed the bus for school children. That is the only plausible explanation for why the seats were so small. The bus was filled to capacity--Now try to fit two adult sized people into them. My rear has bruises from sitting on the lowered armrest, and a few that I can't explain.
The next ridiculous realization was that our driver apparently thought she was a sightseeing guide because we toured NYC. Literally. We arrived 2 hours past our scheduled arrival time and all of that 2 hours was spent driving around in the city--Bronx, Brooklyn, Harlem, and mid-town Manhattan. People in the back begged to be let out on any street corner to find their own way to Port Authority. There was also lots of complaining because people were missing their connecting buses. I feared there would be a riot. The bus driver might have suspected the same thing because she disappeared as soon as we landed and the doors opened.
Figuring out how to get a taxi from Port Authority to the Marriott took some doing (too many exits, too many empty taxi stands) but finally we arrived. Unfortunately we'd missed the meetings we had planned to attend but we were exhausted and so content to rest and get something to eat.
The return trip was interesting but for totally different reasons. We stood in line over an hour to be sure to get the seats in the front which are slightly more roomy. We needed the extra space, as were were returning with 3 carry-ons for each of us (loaded with books) instead of the single tote we took down. That we were able to get all of our stuff onto the bus was a miracle.
The hour in line was actually fun as we chatted with other travelers and told stories about our exploits. We didn't have help putting luggage into the bins so yours truly managed to knock her brain loose when I hit my head on the door. But I managed to get on the bus and get a front seat even in my dazed (and embarrassed) state. I also managed to hit myself in the face with a book-filled tote-bag I put in the overhead bin. Fortunately, that blow was nothing compared to the bashing from the carrier door.
The driver on the trip home did not take us on a tour of NYC. Instead we went to New Jersey and wandered around there for awhile. I assume this is how he managed to avoid the construction that had our first driver lost. He made a couple of stops, once to check on a broken down bus and once to kill time because we were going to arrive too early. Oops…Could he have been speeding? Surely not.
He was however on the phone through most of the trip—after telling passengers to only use their phones in an emergency and only for a minute or two. Interesting that his rules didn't apply to him. I wonder if he was in violation of some protocol in the Driver's Handbook.
At long last, we arrived in Hartford. We were ever so glad to arrive in our own little city! Given our trip so far, it was no surprise we spent many minutes and an abundance of pedometer steps trying to figure out how to get to the side of the building where people assured us taxis would be waiting. When we finally arrived at that location there was one taxi.
Once we were tucked inside and the vehicle was moving, he asked how much we paid on the trip in to the station. We told him. He thought it over for a minute, mentioned that it might be more until we protested a bit and then he decided no, where we were going that would be an appropriate fee——and he would just not turn on his meter. Having seen ten seasons of Criminal Minds we started looking for places and ways to escape. Luckily, we still had the stench of NYC and bus fumes on us so were not good raw material for perfume (Season 6, Episode 14, Sense Memory). We made it home safely and our girls thankfully put on a barkfest for him as he unloaded our bags.
As is natural for writers, we discussed all sorts of ways our NYC bus adventures could be used in stories. Unfortunately Lil Monkey seems to have beaten us to it. He swears he has a screenplay submitted to SyFy. He's also working on his memoir called Monkey in Manhattan.
Monkey in Manhattan--At a Five Star hotel.
Summer Fun #shouldbewriting
I've lost 6 weeks and have no idea where it has gone. I would swear that I just posted a blog a few days ago, but it turns out, that was the end of May. What happened? Summers are full of lazy days that flow by in slower pace, right? Uh—guess not.
We started the summer with the plan of taking the girls, Chloe and Molly, on vacation with us. As we mentioned in a previous post, if we bought THEM new gear then surely they would buy into our plan for the summer. They didn't. We went to Virginia to visit friends and family and thought that while we were there we would check out the Woodsbooger legend. (That seems to be what the locals call their Big Foot creature).
By the time we hit Southwest Virginia the girls said they were through with this whole traveling thing and we ended up boarding them for a week while we went on without them.
We spent the week visiting and talking with family. We never saw the Woodsbooger but we have the T-shirt. And we bought 8—yep, EIGHT—carved gourds from a local artist.
After a week of a lot of nothing much, we picked up Molly and Chloe up on the way home. They looked fit and rested. And perhaps a little spoiled. We didn't. But we have the remainder of the summer to look forward to—the beach, concerts, fun. Right after we finish our edits and worked on the next book.
Okay, so we played hooky a little when Kid Rock started his tour, and took off for the night when we should have been writing. His is the only show of this nature we brave at this point. Partially outdoors, it is a daylong party sponsored by Jim Beam and Harley Davidson. His opening act was Foreigner and they were fantastic. Well worth the admission price even without Kid, which was fortunate because we didn’t actually see much of his part of the concert. We had good seats and should have had a great view. Unfortunately six very tall, very drunk guys stood in front of us dancing and holding high their brimming cups of beer throughout the whole concert.
They danced. We dodged beer waterfalls. As every character in Wolves says, "It's complicated." But we had a blast, and found a few new characters for our stories.
The rest of the summer is destined to be filled with writing, writing, and more writing. Except the RWA conference in the city that never sleeps. And a trip or two to the beach.And a WWE Main Event (with our future ex-husbands, Roman Reigns and Randy Orton). #amsortawriting
We started the summer with the plan of taking the girls, Chloe and Molly, on vacation with us. As we mentioned in a previous post, if we bought THEM new gear then surely they would buy into our plan for the summer. They didn't. We went to Virginia to visit friends and family and thought that while we were there we would check out the Woodsbooger legend. (That seems to be what the locals call their Big Foot creature).
By the time we hit Southwest Virginia the girls said they were through with this whole traveling thing and we ended up boarding them for a week while we went on without them.
We spent the week visiting and talking with family. We never saw the Woodsbooger but we have the T-shirt. And we bought 8—yep, EIGHT—carved gourds from a local artist.
After a week of a lot of nothing much, we picked up Molly and Chloe up on the way home. They looked fit and rested. And perhaps a little spoiled. We didn't. But we have the remainder of the summer to look forward to—the beach, concerts, fun. Right after we finish our edits and worked on the next book.
Okay, so we played hooky a little when Kid Rock started his tour, and took off for the night when we should have been writing. His is the only show of this nature we brave at this point. Partially outdoors, it is a daylong party sponsored by Jim Beam and Harley Davidson. His opening act was Foreigner and they were fantastic. Well worth the admission price even without Kid, which was fortunate because we didn’t actually see much of his part of the concert. We had good seats and should have had a great view. Unfortunately six very tall, very drunk guys stood in front of us dancing and holding high their brimming cups of beer throughout the whole concert.
They danced. We dodged beer waterfalls. As every character in Wolves says, "It's complicated." But we had a blast, and found a few new characters for our stories.
The rest of the summer is destined to be filled with writing, writing, and more writing. Except the RWA conference in the city that never sleeps. And a trip or two to the beach.And a WWE Main Event (with our future ex-husbands, Roman Reigns and Randy Orton). #amsortawriting
WWE: A Spectacular Spectacle
We did it. We made the trek to Nassau Coliseum to see WWE's Monday Night Raw. It was our first time seeing a wrestling event live--we had no idea what to expect.
Once the agitation from the Long Island traffic wore off, we made our first foray from the car to the vendor set up outside the venue's entrance. Brilliant. Plenty of room and time for customers to make choices, and in some cases, time for more than one trip to buy those "on second thought" purchases.
I was disappointed to see the selection of Roman Reigns t-shirts. I'd planned to buy one but they were ugly. I can find better online. I purchased a Randy Orton/Viper t-shirt instead...And a Randy Orton sweatband, a Roman Reigns autographed poster, and of course the official program. Lots of awesome pictures in there!
Purchases made, we sat on the wall surrounding the courtyard to watch the crowd and wait for the doors to open. But the wind kicked up so fiercely we couldn't keep the sand out of our eyes. We ran back to the car.
When it was time for the doors to open, we ventured back to the courtyard only to find there were two--count them, TWO-- lines to enter the 18,000 seat arena. Both lines stretched for blocks, and merely inched along as the security personnel searched each person. Many people were refused entrance for one reason or another. After nearly an hour it became clear the show would start before we'd make it inside. I suppose it became clear to the powers that be as well, as other doors were finally opened. We were let inside.
Inside the venue we ran into a solid wall of unmoving flesh. The wide corridor was like a subway station at rush hour, bodies shoulder to shoulder, backs pressed into chests, moving at the speed of zombies to their designated sections. Briefly we wondered how quickly we'd be trampled to death if we had the misfortune to slip and fall. By the time we reached our seats the lights were out and the music blaring. But it didn't matter--our seats were perfect, with close views of the stage and ring.
The matches themselves were a little perplexing. As it was broadcast live on the USA channel, the timing was quite different than we'd expected. There was also no running commentary like there is on television, so we didn't always know what was going on, and occasionally the cameras, cameramen, and other wrestlers blocked something we wanted to see. On the other hand, we were privy to some interesting things going on at ringside--and in the ring--that views at home never see.
For example, once the televised portion was over, the audience started leaving. When we go to concerts, people always leave when they think the show is over, rushing to get to their cars to be the first out of the parking lots. The same was true for this event. But we've found our routine works fine. We stay, letting the crowd disburse, and avoiding the mad rush. Often, there are unanticipated benefits--and encore, a chance to catch a few guitar picks...and on this night, we got The Viper--Randy Orton.
The remaining crowd exploded as Randy Orton emerged and sauntered to the ring. His match was exhilarating--and of course he won. Afterwards, he walked around the ring, talking to the lucky patrons on the floor and taking pictures with them, smiling and being very much NOT The Viper.
Once the agitation from the Long Island traffic wore off, we made our first foray from the car to the vendor set up outside the venue's entrance. Brilliant. Plenty of room and time for customers to make choices, and in some cases, time for more than one trip to buy those "on second thought" purchases.
I was disappointed to see the selection of Roman Reigns t-shirts. I'd planned to buy one but they were ugly. I can find better online. I purchased a Randy Orton/Viper t-shirt instead...And a Randy Orton sweatband, a Roman Reigns autographed poster, and of course the official program. Lots of awesome pictures in there!
Purchases made, we sat on the wall surrounding the courtyard to watch the crowd and wait for the doors to open. But the wind kicked up so fiercely we couldn't keep the sand out of our eyes. We ran back to the car.
When it was time for the doors to open, we ventured back to the courtyard only to find there were two--count them, TWO-- lines to enter the 18,000 seat arena. Both lines stretched for blocks, and merely inched along as the security personnel searched each person. Many people were refused entrance for one reason or another. After nearly an hour it became clear the show would start before we'd make it inside. I suppose it became clear to the powers that be as well, as other doors were finally opened. We were let inside.
Inside the venue we ran into a solid wall of unmoving flesh. The wide corridor was like a subway station at rush hour, bodies shoulder to shoulder, backs pressed into chests, moving at the speed of zombies to their designated sections. Briefly we wondered how quickly we'd be trampled to death if we had the misfortune to slip and fall. By the time we reached our seats the lights were out and the music blaring. But it didn't matter--our seats were perfect, with close views of the stage and ring.
The matches themselves were a little perplexing. As it was broadcast live on the USA channel, the timing was quite different than we'd expected. There was also no running commentary like there is on television, so we didn't always know what was going on, and occasionally the cameras, cameramen, and other wrestlers blocked something we wanted to see. On the other hand, we were privy to some interesting things going on at ringside--and in the ring--that views at home never see.
For example, once the televised portion was over, the audience started leaving. When we go to concerts, people always leave when they think the show is over, rushing to get to their cars to be the first out of the parking lots. The same was true for this event. But we've found our routine works fine. We stay, letting the crowd disburse, and avoiding the mad rush. Often, there are unanticipated benefits--and encore, a chance to catch a few guitar picks...and on this night, we got The Viper--Randy Orton.
The remaining crowd exploded as Randy Orton emerged and sauntered to the ring. His match was exhilarating--and of course he won. Afterwards, he walked around the ring, talking to the lucky patrons on the floor and taking pictures with them, smiling and being very much NOT The Viper.
Oh yeah, we took this one.
The night was unexpectedly awesome. As we left the arena we turned to each other and said, "We GOTTA do this again." And we will.
Sex. Rebellion. Rock and roll.
We are incredibly happy to present to you the cover to House of the Rising Son, the first book in our series, Living After Midnight.
It's hot, right?
The book is scheduled for release on September 22 by Samhain Publishing. In upcoming weeks, we'll be posting our back cover blurb, the book trailer and a few more tidbits. Come back and check it out. And if you're so inclined, please remember to like our Facebook page.
The book is scheduled for release on September 22 by Samhain Publishing. In upcoming weeks, we'll be posting our back cover blurb, the book trailer and a few more tidbits. Come back and check it out. And if you're so inclined, please remember to like our Facebook page.
Got Exercise?
Um, nope.
We've been trying to put more exercise in our lives. Like the obsessive compulsive writers we are, we immediately went out and bought the latest step-trackers, new shoes and walking gear. Enthusiastically we planned our route, and then lassoed the dogs. We were ready!
Except we forgot to get buy-in from the dogs.
By the time we got to the end of the driveway, both Molly and Chloe had given up. Chloe sniffed around a bit and promptly sat down ("You're shitting me, right? Walk, like, up the street? Do you see that hill?"). Molly whined and whined and yes, whined. ("It's too hot, mommies, it's too hot! Oh, look a construction worker! Boof!")
After fifteen minutes of ineffective persuasion, we were exhausted. It was time for dinner anyway. Besides, there is always tomorrow. Maybe we should try buying them new gear, too?
We've been trying to put more exercise in our lives. Like the obsessive compulsive writers we are, we immediately went out and bought the latest step-trackers, new shoes and walking gear. Enthusiastically we planned our route, and then lassoed the dogs. We were ready!
Except we forgot to get buy-in from the dogs.
By the time we got to the end of the driveway, both Molly and Chloe had given up. Chloe sniffed around a bit and promptly sat down ("You're shitting me, right? Walk, like, up the street? Do you see that hill?"). Molly whined and whined and yes, whined. ("It's too hot, mommies, it's too hot! Oh, look a construction worker! Boof!")
After fifteen minutes of ineffective persuasion, we were exhausted. It was time for dinner anyway. Besides, there is always tomorrow. Maybe we should try buying them new gear, too?
Our Road to Wrestlemania
So close, and yet so far...
"If it's for ya, you're gonna get it. If it ain't for ya, you're not gonna get it."
My mom had many amazing words of wisdom and this was one of her favorites. It covered her feelings about the lottery (which she played faithfully every week), birthday wishes, and cake. I'm using it as the mantra for my weekend.
My partner and I have a new obsession--That's right, Roman Reigns. When we found out he was going to be right around the corner in New Jersey, we immediately bought VIP tickets. A meet and greet AND pictures? A chance to learn what he smells like? Good lord. We were SO there.
The day finally arrived.On Saturday we packed up the car, waved goodbye to the pooches and took off. Sure, the weather was iffy but by all reports the snow and freezing rain wasn't going to start until well after we would be home on Sunday..
After a stressful ride to NJ (I hate you, Major Deegan Expressway)we landed at our hotel in Freehold, had some chow, and passed out from exhaustion. When we woke up on Sunday, low and behold--Winter Storm Warning from NJ to Boston, with snow and/or freezing rain scheduled to start--wait for it--
The same time as our meet and greet.
@@&!!!@&
Practical women that we are, we constructed numerous "what-if" scenarios: what if we go and only stay an hour? What if we leave just in time to make it to work Monday morning? What if, what if, what if. But we knew what we had to do. Grumbling, we packed up and headed back home.
The ride to Connecticut was grueling. No sooner than we hit the Garden State Parkway, the freezing rain and snow started. We crawled at 40mph, slid a few times, and ranted a lot at fellow travelers who seemed to think THEY could speed on slick roads even if we couldn't.
We are now home safe, NJ to Hartford by way of the Bronx (I hate you, Major Deegan Expressway.) A little disappointed, more than a little stressed out. I guess sniffing Roman was not in store for me this time around.
As of a few moments ago, it began to snow harder. The roads, by all reports, are treacherous. I-95N is riddled with cars that slid off the road. The news is reporting a major crash on a stretch we traveled.
My mom would say that having an accident was also, thankfully, not in the cards for us today. Everything happens for a reason.
My mom had many amazing words of wisdom and this was one of her favorites. It covered her feelings about the lottery (which she played faithfully every week), birthday wishes, and cake. I'm using it as the mantra for my weekend.
My partner and I have a new obsession--That's right, Roman Reigns. When we found out he was going to be right around the corner in New Jersey, we immediately bought VIP tickets. A meet and greet AND pictures? A chance to learn what he smells like? Good lord. We were SO there.
The day finally arrived.On Saturday we packed up the car, waved goodbye to the pooches and took off. Sure, the weather was iffy but by all reports the snow and freezing rain wasn't going to start until well after we would be home on Sunday..
After a stressful ride to NJ (I hate you, Major Deegan Expressway)we landed at our hotel in Freehold, had some chow, and passed out from exhaustion. When we woke up on Sunday, low and behold--Winter Storm Warning from NJ to Boston, with snow and/or freezing rain scheduled to start--wait for it--
The same time as our meet and greet.
@@&!!!@&
Practical women that we are, we constructed numerous "what-if" scenarios: what if we go and only stay an hour? What if we leave just in time to make it to work Monday morning? What if, what if, what if. But we knew what we had to do. Grumbling, we packed up and headed back home.
The ride to Connecticut was grueling. No sooner than we hit the Garden State Parkway, the freezing rain and snow started. We crawled at 40mph, slid a few times, and ranted a lot at fellow travelers who seemed to think THEY could speed on slick roads even if we couldn't.
We are now home safe, NJ to Hartford by way of the Bronx (I hate you, Major Deegan Expressway.) A little disappointed, more than a little stressed out. I guess sniffing Roman was not in store for me this time around.
As of a few moments ago, it began to snow harder. The roads, by all reports, are treacherous. I-95N is riddled with cars that slid off the road. The news is reporting a major crash on a stretch we traveled.
My mom would say that having an accident was also, thankfully, not in the cards for us today. Everything happens for a reason.
One of the accidents we witnessed as we drove.
Thank you...No really. Thank YOU.
Yesterday our writing group Writers Circle hosted a discussion about our time together: How we formed, what works for us as critique partners, how and what we each write. So many people turned out to support us, hear about our work and learn about our processes as a group.
Thank you, to each and every person who attended. We very much appreciated your interest and your questions. We hope you enjoyed your time with us.
I would also like to take a moment to thank my circle sisters...Sandra, Sara, Diane, Martha, Liz, Bobbie, and Gloria. My writing would not be nearly as good, nor my courage and confidence nearly as high, if it weren't for all of the ways we support each other and grow together. I'm privileged to be able to call you my friends.
Thank you, to each and every person who attended. We very much appreciated your interest and your questions. We hope you enjoyed your time with us.
I would also like to take a moment to thank my circle sisters...Sandra, Sara, Diane, Martha, Liz, Bobbie, and Gloria. My writing would not be nearly as good, nor my courage and confidence nearly as high, if it weren't for all of the ways we support each other and grow together. I'm privileged to be able to call you my friends.
Carry On, Wayward Sons
Tonight was the 200th episode of Supernatural, titled "Fan Fiction". This amazing episode managed to make me laugh, cry, cheer for the characters, and fall in love with them again--All while giving a shout out to the fans.
It also brought the show full circle to what has made it the mega hit it has become: The brothers, saving people and hunting things.
Rock on.
It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year
No, I'm not talking about Christmas...but in some ways it feels like that red and green holiday. I'm talking about the season of premiers. Movies...television series...ahh.
Supernatural just premiered Season 10. TEAM DEAN ALL THE WAY. Is it just me, or has he done something to his teeth?They might be a little too perfect. I like my men with distinctive teeth. At any rate, Dean is a demon this season. I think I like him that way. After all, a demon is the ultimate bad boy.
Vampire Diaries also looks pretty good, in its 6th season. I've heard rumors it might be the last one, so for all of my fellow Ian/Damon fans, enjoy it while it lasts. Let's hope Elena makes a few good decisions this go-round.
While I don't particularly like zombies, SyFy's Town of the Living Dead is becoming one of my favorite shows because it's so funny! Can't wait until Thr33 Days Dead hits the theaters. Or goes straight to DVD. I'm not picky.
But, what I am most looking forward to is Jason Mamoa's Wolves. He's not exactly the star of this movie, but it doesn't matter. Have you SEEN HIM? The man puts the WOOHOO in wolf.
Supernatural just premiered Season 10. TEAM DEAN ALL THE WAY. Is it just me, or has he done something to his teeth?They might be a little too perfect. I like my men with distinctive teeth. At any rate, Dean is a demon this season. I think I like him that way. After all, a demon is the ultimate bad boy.
Vampire Diaries also looks pretty good, in its 6th season. I've heard rumors it might be the last one, so for all of my fellow Ian/Damon fans, enjoy it while it lasts. Let's hope Elena makes a few good decisions this go-round.
While I don't particularly like zombies, SyFy's Town of the Living Dead is becoming one of my favorite shows because it's so funny! Can't wait until Thr33 Days Dead hits the theaters. Or goes straight to DVD. I'm not picky.
But, what I am most looking forward to is Jason Mamoa's Wolves. He's not exactly the star of this movie, but it doesn't matter. Have you SEEN HIM? The man puts the WOOHOO in wolf.
