Blurb: Team Alpha Three’s spaceship is out of power after fighting a wormhole, and parked on the primitive world of Zenevieva. With half the team sick from radiation poisoning, the team commander entrust geologist, Maya Gladstone, to find enough matrix crystals to power up their spacecraft, so they can go home to Earth.
Vach Namaste of the powerful Clan Namaste, a native of the planet, has desire the lovely Maya since she stepped off the spaceship on that astonishing day a year ago. He’s hounded her every step since. As Hymeneal Night approaches, he makes plans to take her as his bride… willing or not.
Excerpt: As promised, Maya bought another cheap tote so she wouldn’t damage her prize. Then she worked her way through the bazaar, buying supplies for the next day’s trip. As she went from tent to tent, hunting down the few veggies, fruit and other types of food that she could digest, she caught glimpses of the Zeeman following her. She tensed. What does he want with me?
She stalked completely round one of the tents to come face to face with him. Now’s my chance. “Why are you following me?”
“What? I don’t know what you mean.” He took a step back.
Maya grabbed a fistful of his dark brown robes. “Yes, you do. You've been dogging my steps from moment I set foot on your planet.” She suddenly noticed that the young man was bigger than she’d thought. His chest was deep and his shoulders broad. His arms were larger than Bobby’s and he worked out. And here I am, holding him by his clothes.
He stared at her hand. “I like you and want to get to know you. If you were one of my people, I would woo you.”
She realized his robe wasn’t made from the rough, homespun fabric used by the common Zeeman. Is he a clan lord? Maya loosened her grip on the silky material. “Who are you?”
He moved back and swept his arm down in an elaborate bow. “My name is Vach Namaste of the Namaste clan. It would please me if you remembered it.”
With a flutter of his robes, he hurried away, weaving through the crowd. It wasn’t until he had disappeared that Maya realized that he’d been speaking to her in English.
Vach finally reached the edge of the bazaar, where he had tied up his steed. He patted its thick neck. “Hey, Brawley.”
His mount woke up with a snort, then lipped at his hand, demanding a treat. It was still standing in the same place that he left it and no one had bothered it. No one would dare touch a sherakey, not even this sleepy fellow.
Reaching into a pouch, Vach dug out a sweet lump for his mount. Giving him the treat, Vach turned to see if the human female had followed.
He felt disappointed. But she wasn't of his race and didn't understand the proper way to act. If she wanted him to woo her, she should have followed him. If she didn't, then she should have knocked him on his well-bred butt, just like the human guard had suggested.
Vach had wanted this human female since he saw her step out of the spaceship on that astonishing day a year ago. Her blue eyes drew him closer. Her long, red hair made him want to run his fingers through it. Her curves sent flames of desire flickering through his body.
He’d taken to coming into town regularly to stroll by the compound, just to see if she would be there. Today had been one of those rare good days when she was there to follow. He learned a little more about her each time. Now he knew she wanted to find something. If he knew what it was, maybe he could find it for her.
Climbing up on the saddle, Vach clicked his tongue and his mount started down the dusty road toward the Namaste bachelor compound. He contemplated his plan for Hymeneal Night. Vach already knew from eavesdropping at the map seller’s tent that Maya would be out on the desert, all alone.
I have been sitting on some bad news that I received on Monday. One of my contracted book's publisher has closed it's doors and returned all my rights to me, but, also very generously gave me the edits on my story.
I'm going over the ms to tidy it up for self-publishing. Please look for Matrix Crystal Hunters on October first (same release date) for the kindle and paperback.
I'm thrilled to announce that Persephone's Song Anthology has been released on Amazon. It includes my story, Weather Witch.
Weather Witch: Regency Nobleman Lord Godfrey is negotiating for a wife, until Meredith literally storms into the Manor. Then all bets are off as he tries to tempt the tempestuous nymph into marrying him.
My daughter heard what she thought was a kitten some how stuck in my landlords barn that's located behind our house. She tried to contract our landlord for the last two days. He and his wife were out of town and just got back a little while ago.
They showed up.
"Kitty rescue, here to help," the wife said.
Then the landlord opened the barn and he and his wife helped my daughter look for the kitty.
Turned out it was my daughter's missing cat, Freya.
She home, safe and sound but very thin after her adventure.
I cleaned out my side of the closet of all my too small to wear, stained, or just shrunk up from the dryer clothes. I filled five shopping bags full. I didn't realized I had that many clothes. It took me two days and I have the sore arms and back to prove it.
Then in just a few minutes my oh-so-helpful husband removed the clothes that had ended up on his side, because I didn't have enough room, and added these clothes to my side.
Where did my room go?
Yup. Filled it right up.
Next weekend I'll have to start over. I guess I'll look for outdated clothes. God knows I have a lot of those.
While I was at the bank today, the TV screen they have started mentioning factoids. It stated that punctuation wasn't used until the fifteenth century when the printing press was invented. Until then thewordsrantogetherlikethis.
However, as I did the research I found that wasn't exactly true. English has always used some form of punctuation, but it wasn't standardized until the invention of the printing press.
In the ninth century, the Romans started using dots to separate words.
Later, a librarian in Alexandria became the first to coin the terms "comma," "colon," and "period," although they were very different from what we use today.
My mom told me something disturbing today. We both live out in the country, and there are wild animals that live out here too.
My mom was out early this morning and watched a coyote walk over to one of the neighboring farms. This neighbor had small dogs.
The two little dogs ran over to the coyote and barked and barked. And Mr. Coyote gobbled them right down. Dumb dogs. When the half grown chickens started heading over into Mr. Coyotes direction, my mom went inside. She'd seen enough.
I've never been afraid of bugs. I used to play with the box my dad had behind the couch that had meal worm and black beetles (adult form of meal worms) that he used for fishing. He had them in a shoe box with saw dust and cut up potatoes to feed them. He also raised red worms and minnows.
I only call on my husband to kill a spider because he likes coming to my rescue (even though it's unnecessary).
Recently while doing some clean up in the yard, I disturbed millions of burgundy colored beetles with light colored legs that stunk like dirty feet. They were hiding behind some of my containers and under some left over fall leaves. There was so many of them that they made a noise just trying to get a way. I scooped as many of them as I could and dumped them in a big garbage can. One tried to get under my glove, but I got him.
For a while there I wished we still had out chickens, they would have had a feast.
I'm reading the Sime~Gen series. Written in the late seventies and early eighties they are a bit telly and head hop. I'm reading them in order, but unfortunately they weren't written in order.
I'd read the first in the series, House of Zeor, just after it was first published in 1977, when I was in HS. It kept my interest all the way through. I thought I'd read it again and found it still captured my interest. I found that it's a series now, and I'm working my way through the books on kindle.
Nearly finished with my second edits for my short story that will be out in July.
I'm so excited.
It's a short so I don't have a long blurb for Weather Witch: Lord Godfrey is negotiating for a wife, until Meredith literally storms into the Manor. Then all bets are off as he tries to temp the tempestuous beauty into marrying him.
Most people celebrate by having a barbecue, watching sports or going camping. Usually this day falls on the first three day weekend when the weather is nice, and a lot of people use it for their first family vacation of the year.
However, Memorial Day is the day to remember all the men and women who died in military service.
My mom and dad taken in 1982 at the Salton Sea CA, the year my father died.
Happy Mother's Day, Mom.
We didn't have a lot of money growing up. My mom made a lot of my clothes. She went to the salvation army, bought like new dresses and took them apart, then pin a pattern down on the material. After cutting the pattern pieces out, she pin the pieces together and sew a new dress for my sister and I.
She got creative with meals too. Left over mash potatoes became potato patties. Fried chicken went a long ways, and so did stew which she warmed over on top of the stove.
My dad fished all the time. She learned to fry fish the way my dad liked, and he was fussy and demanding.
She cooked three big meals a day from scratch each day.
She found time to be with my sister and me, took care of her parents and ran errands (even the extra ones my dad gave her), and taught Sunday school at church or helped out in a class.
She took care of my dad when he was diagnosis with colon cancer. Cooked him special meals that she'd hoped he could eat to build his strength. And tried to hold it together when he took a turn for the worst.
When I get bogged down with what I have to do, I remind myself that my mom didn't have a microwave or dishwasher. She also didn't pay bills on the Internet. But she still managed to keep things running smoothly at home.
Water problems this year. It seems to happen ever two to three years when you live out in the country. The well either needs to be purged, dug deeper or bugs have gotten into the wires and something got fried.
Unfortunately, this time it was all three.
Our landlord decided, since the well needs to be dug deeper that it would be cheaper to have our holding tank hooked up to the nice deep-deep well that waters the almond orchard.
Of course, that might mean we'll be without water for a couple of days. I reassured my hubby that we've toughed it out before and we could do it again.
I woke this morning to no water. I flushed the toilet with water from a bucket. Washed up with bottled water. And had a sandwich for brunch, and then brushed my teeth with more bottled water.
Love-love the good well people who dug a trench to the back forty and got it all connected. It only took a day.
We have water again.
With much belching of yucky mud, air and then white misty stuff, the water finally settled down to clear, cool water!
Lovely, lovely water.
I took a shower, which put me in a good mood for the rest of the day!
There was a cricket in the house for the last three nights. We looked for it but couldn't get it. It disturbed my daughter's rest until she left to sleep at a friends house.
Last night it chirped so loud it bothered me as I wrote. If that wasn't enough, when I got ready for bed the darn thing followed me into the bathroom.
It hopped right underneath the door and right in front of me. The big black cricket sat there and stared at me. As if it thought I'd scream or something. I guess the dumb thing expected me to act like a girly-girl, which I'm not.
I grabbed one of my husband's reading materials, and hit it, twice.
I don't mean to complain, but the problem with writing romance is there's no respect. It's one of the most sneered at genres out there, and yet it sell more than any other genre. 50 % of book sales are for romance books.
I've been sneered at by family.
From one of my BIL's who just heard that I had published a book, "Oh, it's probably one of those books with all the sex in it."
And an older SIL said, "My sister published a book too, but it wasn't like that... a romance. It's was a non-fiction, because she's a professional."
On a critique group, that had a promo day, a member tore apart my published book with this comment: "This is why I hate romance."
The only thing you can do is shake your head and move on.
My heart and prayers go out to the people at the Boston Marathon Bombings. That happened just yesterday and one day later it's already on Wikipedia.
Three people died. Eight local hospitals reported that they were treating or had treated a total of more than 124 people, including at least 15 who were in critical condition on April 16. Most had lower body injuries, including losing one or both legs. Quite a few had exploded eardrums from the blast. At least one person had a brain injury.
I barbequed steak, peppers, hot dogs and soy dogs for my family as I watched the storm clouds blow in.
Lightning flickered across the horizon and thunder boomed overhead.
The weather had the cat and dog chasing each other around the yard, and around my feet.
I got everything off the grill just as it started to rain.
Once inside, I had to turn off the computer since the thunderstorm had arrived.
Lightning flickered all around the house. Flashes lit up the windows. I smelled ozone. You know that smell when something burns out. Nothing burned out, but I think it was because of how much electricity was in the air.
We turned off the lights in the house at one point, so we could watch Mother Natures show.