In theory I’m all for living in the moment, but anticipation adds joy to my life because just thinking about some things makes me smile. With that in mind, here’s six things I look forward to–
1) Seeing my kids–heck even photos of them make me grin. They are definitely my favorite people.
2) Working–I know not everyone shares this view, but I love writing and look forward to the time I spend adding or changing words.
3) Gardening–again not everyone’s idea of good time, but some of the best days of my life have been spent getting all sweaty and dirty and some of those involved yard work.
4) Reading–I look forward to reading whatever book is on current TBR stack. And if that title disappoints then there’s always another volume behind it.
5) Every season–especially the changes they bring to the garden. They’re all good. Spring with it’s fresh greens and eager bulbs. Summer with its heady excesses. Fall with the fiery drama of jewel tones. Winter with its modest flowers and clean lines.
6) The adventure of each new day–I can’t predict what it’ll bring, but I appreciate the element of surprise.
What about you, do you enjoy anticipating? Or are you all about living in the moment?
Continuing the favorite books discussion that started with romance here went on to sci-fi and fantasy titles here , a list of mysteries and thrillers.
The Nero Wolfe series by Rex Stout–has hung on to first place for many years
Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle is well worth the time
Sax Rohmer’s Fu Manchu stories are a fascinating adjunct to the Sherlock Holmes cases
Eventually, I lost interest in Travis McGee’s adventures by John D. MacDonald but it took a couple of dozen books…
Ditto for Robert Parker’s Spencer (I actually liked Hawke better), but then I would…
Dashiell Hammett does it better than either MacDonald or Parker, but he wasn’t as prolific
Patricia Wentworth writes the very comfortable Miss Silvers stories
Tess Gerritsen pens wonderfully twisted novels of mystery and suspense, sometimes with a medical twist
Donald Westlake writes a dependably gripping who-done-it
Charlaine Harris’s Shakespeare series is excellent.
I’ve been riveted by everything Lynda LaPlante has written. But, her cold series is my favorite.
David Baldacci’s The Winner is on my keeper shelf–the rest of his stories I’ve found uneven, some gripping–some not so gripping.
Lee Child’s Jack Reacher series varies too, but the difference is between OMG this is fantastic and pretty damn fine
P.D. James writes wonderfully perverted villains and complicated heroes
Thomas Perry’s Jane Whitefield series enthralled me so completely I haven’t tried his other titles
Peter Abrahams thrillers have kept me up much too late on more than one occassion
I read lots of John Sandford’s prey series before I lost interest
Tom Clancy’s first few military thrillers riveted me
Elmore Leonard is worth reading for the dialogue alone
I love Jeffery Deaver’s stories except for Lincoln and Amanda I can’t erase the Denzel Washington version of the famous detective and it interferes with my enjoyment of the books. Fortunately, he’s written lots of other stories. The Blue Nowhere was especially terrific.
Scilia Siberica Spring Beauty–I think. I have two varies of this miniature member of the vast scilia family. One is bright blue and single the other is the almost white doubles pictured above. Both are one to two inches high appearing for a few weeks in February and then fading inconspicuously from sight until the following year. My kind of bulbs.
Once in while, when I’m not writing, I think about promotion. So far, my only conclusion is I don’t have a clue about what works. The only thing I’m fairly sure about is that the writing has to come first.
Marketing to other writers, via blogs, social network sites, and writing conferences seems pointless to me. But, it’s certainly a popular pastime. Recently, I read a blog on this very subject here .
There’ve been a few writers, who I’d read and enjoyed, that have managed to turn me off of the their work by sharing their views on anything and everything.
As a reader, I’m really happier simply enjoying good books. For example, if I stumble across your personal blog and learn that you’re a bigot, this little tidbit is not going to improve our relationship. On the other hand, if I really enjoy your blog I may be inspired to read your stories. But, if those stories disappoint your blog wont bring me back to buy more.
As an individual, I have thousands of opinions and lots of personal prejudices, and every one of them is subject to whimsical change.
As a writer, I’m fairly careful to stick with what I’m sure I believe when crafting stories for publication.
Do you search out the blogs of your favorite writers? Or musicians, or actors? And if so has that enhanced or hurt your opinion of them?
Just for dangerously sexy fans, here’s an unedited excerpt from Dangerous Secrets, coming soon from New Concepts Publishing….
Five years ago, outside Montego Bay, Jamaica
The sound of the loose soil hitting his mother’s plain gray casket kept echoing inside Sam’s head. Pasty hated dirt. She’d kept a clean house. He couldn’t imagine her resting peacefully beneath the ground.
At least, she was next to Pop. Maybe, it would be okay.
She’d told him that’s what she wanted when he’d arranged to bury his father. Patsy said she didn’t give a fig about the casket or flowers–all she wanted was to lie beside Tony for the rest of eternity.
He’d never guessed how soon he would be repeating the same gut-wrenching funeral decisions that had been required to lay his father to rest for his mother.
He’d picked a light gray casket, because Patsy liked simple things. He’d ordered lots of her favorite yellow daisies. He’d asked the organist to play her favorite hymn, Amazing Grace. But, no matter how he tried to fix everything, the whole thing was wrong–so very wrong that it felt like nothing would ever be right again.
There’d been so little time to mourn Pop, and then, less than a week later, his mom. Both of them so dead–so fast–so permanently gone. He hadn’t been able to save either one.
Hell, he couldn’t even cry for them.
He made the trip home with no memory of how he’d gotten there. Yet, he was definitely home, standing at the foot of the main stairs, dry-eyed, not feeling a damn thing, except irritated. He was as itchy, as if an earwig were crawling along the back of his neck.
It was the music, coming from upstairs, the wrong music, a happy pop song that made him want to scream and smash things.
It was Caroline’s boom box playing. She hadn’t felt up to going to the funeral. He’d said he understood, but he’d lied. She was pregnant. What the hell did he know about pregnant women? Still, the music was wrong. She should’ve come to the funeral with him out of respect for his mother–out of respect for him.
She didn’t respect him. That wasn’t news.
Hell, right now, he didn’t think much of himself come to that.
The singer warbled on from upstairs, the music rasping on Sam’s already rotten mood. He took the stairs two at a time, storming into the master suite.
The music was loud, but Caroline heard him,
She didn’t open her eyes, simply smiled a wicked, taunting grin when she spoke. “Is it too much to ask for you to knock?”
“Hell yes, it’s too much to ask. This is my house.”
She shifted, groaned softly, and spread her legs wider for whoever was licking her pussy. “I guess. Though, you couldn’t prove it by me. You’re hardly ever here.”
“You aren’t making this about me. Get the hell out of my bed,” he yelled, yanking the plug on the boom box.
Stopping the music had been a mistake. Now, the room was filled with her breathing and lapping noises and his own pulse thundering.
Caroline shoved herself more upright, pouting prettily. “You’re being mean to me.” The sheet slipped, artfully revealing her full tits. “I was so horny for you. Don’t be mad,’kay? Be a good boy, come on over here and give me some of what I need.”
Still mad as hell, he wasn’t interested in helping some other guy fuck her brains out. But, his cock didn’t seem to be on board with his decision about not sharing. It was already half-hard. “He has to leave then we’ll talk.”
“I wouldn’t cheat on you,” she said with wide-eyed innocence.
Except every chance she got. “Of course not,” he said dryly.
The saddest part of the whole sick scene was that her behavior no longer shocked him.
She flipped the sheet off the bed with a giggle. “There’s no other man.”
For once Caroline had been honest. The second set of legs were slim and attached to round little tush. The limbs were a dark golden brown and they definitely didn’t belong to Caroline. Neither did the dusky rose vulva, swollen and wet, peeking at him.
His cock stiffened to full attention, instantly ready to fuck the new cunt.
Maybe the girl felt vulnerable, because she turned over, exposing high, pointed, breasts with dark chocolate nipples.
His cock obviously didn’t miss the rear view too much–it grew even harder.
Caroline plucked at one of the new girl’s dark tips, provocatively. “Maya’s never been fucked by a man. I told her that you have a beautiful cock. Why don’t you show it to her?”
He wanted to. Hell, he wanted to show her how it felt, stretching her tight little pussy. But then, he made the mistake of looking at her face.
Her big brown eyes were wide with fear.
Clearly, the girl was terrified. His erection sank and slunk away like a stray dog getting pelted by rocks.
Caroline had used sex to manipulate him from day one. The woman didn’t have any moral boundaries. He’d never considered himself a prude, but compared to her maybe he was, forcing a woman–hell, girl–was not something he would ever do.
Temper surged, fogging his vision. He silently said a brief prayer. Holy mother of God, grant me one second of grace. For a few minutes, the anger left him.
He liked sex as much as anyone did. Hell, he loved sex. But this, whatever this sick game between him and Caroline was, it wasn’t about sex–not any more. It was about messing with his head and stealing pieces of his soul until he wouldn’t be fit to call himself a man.
Caroline got off on pushing his buttons. He understood that. But apparently, he still had limits because her latest stunt sickened him. He’d had it with her outrageous behavior and with her. The games ended now.
His anger had ebbed back in, making him speak with low deliberation. “I’m leaving. When I get back, I don’t want to find any trace you ever existed.”
She studied him through narrowed eyes as if gauging how serious he was.
“Do you understand me?” he asked her flatly.
“Yes,” she spat at him.
“That goes for your playmate too.”
The girl actually looked relieved as she scrambled out of the bed, and began retrieving her scattered clothes.
Caroline bounced to her feet, fists planted on her spreading hips. “You’re a fool. I’ve made every fantasy you ever had come true, and you’re throwin’ it all away just because you’re too much of pussy to admit you’re dying to get fucked by two women at the same time.”
“Shut up and go before things get ugly,” he said.
“You can’t just throw me out of here, like I was garbage. I’m your wife.”
“Don’t be here when I get back,” he flung the words over his shoulder on his way out of the room. Afraid that if he stayed there another minute, he might lose it and hit her because deep in his dark heart he knew there was some truth in her words.
If the girl had been willing….
Caroline hadn’t forced him to fuck her brains out–he’d wanted to prove something to himself–had wanted to dominate her. There was no demanding obedience from her, because she pushed faster and harder, stealing his passion along with his self-respect.
He’d been crazy to tolerate her shit for this long. The more he’d let her behavior slide, the wilder she got. They’d been rolling straight downhill from the start.
Of course, he had a ton of excuses for why he’d tolerated her excesses. At first, he’d been shocked, but curious. Hell, he’d been flattered, in a way, by her openness to anything. Then he’d been up to his ass in funeral arrangements. But, the truth was he’d also been avoiding her. Bringing her home had been one of his stupidest impulses. He’d married her knowing that they were headed straight into a bottomless hell of degradation.
Yet, with her being pregnant, even though she’d admitted the baby wasn’t his, he’d wanted to make their relationship work. She was lovely when she wasn’t acting like a slut and the kid sure as hell deserved a break.
Then the nightmare of his father’s brutal murder had begun. He’d gotten through the investigation, the funeral, and the wake. He’d wanted to bring his mom home to live with him. But, He’d been uncomfortable with the idea of introducing her to Caroline, so he’d let things slide. If he’d been tougher–or even better if he’d thought things through before he acted–then maybe his mother would still be alive.
He’d live with that guilt for the rest of his life.
The memory solidified his decision. He dug a roll of bills out of his pocket, leaving it on the foyer’s table where Caroline would be sure to find it.
A young man and his girlfriend had been dating for over a year, and they decided to get married.
There was only one little thing bothering the future groom. His beautiful twenty-one year old prospective sister-in-law, who wore very tight miniskirts and was generally bra-less.
One day “little” sister called and asked him to come over to check the wedding invitations. She was alone when he arrived, and she whispered to him that she had feelings and desires for him that she couldn’t control.
She told him that she wanted to make love to him just once before he got married and committed his life to her sister.
Well, he was in total shock, and couldn’t say a word.
She said, “I’m going upstairs to my bedroom, and if you want one last wild fling, just come up and get me.”
He was stunned, completely frozen, as he watched her go up the stairs.
When she reached the top, she turned back with sexy wink and began unbuttoning her blouse.
For a moment, he simply stared. Then turned and made a beeline straight out the front door. Heading for his car, he found all his future in-laws standing outside, clapping!
With tears in his eyes, his father-in-law to be hugged him hard. “We are thrilled that you passed our little test…we couldn’t ask for a better man for our daughter. Welcome to the family, son.”
And the moral of this story is, always keep your condoms in your car.
A couple of weeks ago, I nattered on about what works for me in a story, here. Then Danielle asked about my favorite books, which prompted another blog, here where I listed my best-loved romances.
Moving on to sci-fi and fantasy. Here’s my list of keepers.
The Hobbit by J R R Tolkien–the ring trilogy is wonderful too. Bilbo is always going to be number one with me.
The Deryni Series by Katherine Kurtz–it’s been a few years so I can’t pick one over the other–I simply devoured the whole series.
The Pern books by Anne McCaffrey–as with the Deryni books, once started I couldn’t stop until they were all gone.
The Word Trilogy by Terry Brooks–I liked Wizard World books too, but not as much.
The Discworld books by Terry Pratchett–stories that stay with you long after the cover is closed.
Dead Lines by Greg Bear Darnwin’s Radio is also good. Books that made me think differently.
Stranger in a Strange Land by Robert Heinlein–the book that opened up a whole world of new sci-fi for me, most of which wasn’t nearly as good as the one one I’d started with.
I Robot by Isaac Asimov–actually I’ve enjoyed lots of his titles, the robot series has always stood out in my mind.
Dune by Frank Herbert–one of those books that gripped me from the opening lines. For me, none of the sequels, which are still being released came any where close to the original.
While I was checking the spelling of author’s names and the titles, I found a couple more I want to read. Arthur C. Clarke’s Childhood’s End and Ender’s Game by Orson Scott.
A deep rose hellabore. Since these are all seedlings that have cross-bred and planted themselves as they please in the garden–there are no cultivator names to go along with them. All hellabores are lovely and not pushy, seeding themselves only in convenient locations, at least so far.
Getting paid to watch Eduardo is Desiree’s dream assignment, but when he reaches out to her, crossing the line, everything changes.
Read an excerpt >>>
Deep in her secret heart, she lusts for a sexy pirate who’d be her master and commander in the bedroom. But, this man may be too dangerous
Along with the arrival of Sam’s nemesis comes Karina, the one woman who can heal his wounded soul. While he worries about endangering her, what he doesn’t know may kill him. Because, the love of his life is his worst nightmare--his enemy’s daughter.
One dangerous warrior woman plus two rogue demon males equals a love to threaten an empire. 
Getting paid to watch Eduardo is Desiree’s dream assignment, but when he reaches out to her, crossing the line, everything changes.
Deep in her secret heart, she lusts for a sexy pirate who’d be her master and commander in the bedroom. But, this man may be too dangerous
She finds paradise in the arms of twin brothers, but their law demands she chose one warrior to mate and one to die. 
One woman, two men, three wounded hearts--though already mated their love is still forbidden.
A reluctant reporter and a lone wolf undercover cop work to catch an extortionist, finding love requires the most dangerous risk of all. 
Street-smart cop plays princess to catch deadly terrorists. Now,the only man she trusts is the one she can't resist.
Along with the arrival of Sam’s nemesis comes Karina, the one woman who can heal his wounded soul. While he worries about endangering her, what he doesn’t know may kill him. Because, the love of his life is his worst nightmare--his enemy’s daughter. 
A lonely woman executive finds passion with a dominant much younger lover, forcing a choice between love and loyalty 