Thursday, September 23, 2010

Take another look...

Bronwyn woke to the gentle hand of Mavis on her back.
“Seems you did your sleeping on the porch last night,” she said cheerfully. “I’ve done that a time or two myself. There’s nothing like the night air to hypnotize and put you in a deep sleep. The only side effect is the mountain air. It does bring on some pretty strange dreams, and might I say you were definitely having one. You woke me up last night with your hollering and carrying on.”
Mavis poured a tall mug of steaming coffee and handed it to Bronwyn. “This should clear up the haziness I suspect is clouding your mind right now.”
Bronwyn sat up, confused by her surroundings. She looked over the property. The sun was just making its way over the mountains, striking ground glistening with the morning dew. The pungent aromas from the gardens stimulated her nostrils as they wafted in the morning breeze. She reached for the coffee, and sipped the strong liquid, nearly choking at the bitterness of it.
“I woke you during the night?” She asked.
“Sure did. My window is directly above this side of the porch. I heard you scream. Sounded like you were scared out of your wits. I ran out here and found you havin’ a fitful sleep on the swing.”
Bronwyn took another small slip of the awful coffee. She vaguely remembered leaving her room last night. Could she have been sleep walking? She hadn’t sleep walked since she was a child. As the steam from the coffee filled her nostrils, the events gradually made their way back into her head. The memory of the intense argument began to emerge, and within seconds all the images raced back into her mind…the apparition…Falcon…the blond man…the murder…and then Travis under the tree…The kiss!
Bronwyn involuntarily raised her hands to her lips before she noticed that Mavis was watching her intently. She lowered her hand quickly.
“Must have been some kind of dream.” A sly smile pulled at the corner of Mavis’ lips.
Mavis gave Bronwyn a suspicious look. She could sense the distrust. She wondered if it stemmed from Mavis’ wariness of herself and Travis. Maybe Mavis could sense a mutual attraction as well.
“You want to tell me about it?”
Bronwyn‘s heart picked up its pace. “Tell you about what?”

I entered a contest.

Just entered the Urban Fantasy/Romance Contest over @GuideToLiteraryAgents which Marisa Iozzi Corvisiero is judging!

Thursday, September 16, 2010

another request for a Full today :) So I'm giving you another peek!

The early morning breeze gently pushed the linen curtains away from the window, allowing the warm sun rays their grand entrance. Bethany and Lillian were unmoved, sleeping in after returning from the night hike around two in the morning. However, Bronwyn had woken off and on all night, anxiousness growing inside her. Why did she feel so agitated? Was she forgetting something? She lay in bed, staring at the spinning ceiling fan, trying to decipher the feeling inside. She dozed off and on. Ryan usually occupied her dreams, but now, Travis was the one she dreamt of. When she finally awoke for good, Bronwyn felt somewhat guilty about her night-time fantasies. She quietly climbed from the bed as a rooster crowed, then dressed and headed outside for an early morning jog. She ran in the soft dewy grass along side the river bed, clicking off the miles. The brisk morning air filled her lungs with the perfume of mother earth. Bronwyn did her best thinking early in the morning, when no one was around to distract her. She tried to concentrate and plan the re–writing of the dreaded scene. However, thoughts of Travis and the waterfall continued to invade her head.
Upon returning to the inn, Bronwyn smelled the delicious aromas of breakfast. She decided against the heaviness of country waffles, eggs and biscuits, choosing instead a glass of juice and a small bowl of fresh fruit. She ate alone on the porch. Afterwards, Bronwyn returned to her room showered, dressed, and hurried back outside with her computer, as a groggy Bethany and Lillian raised their waking heads.
“Hey, where are you going?” Bethany asked.
Lillian noticed Bronwyn’s wet hair. “How long have you been up?”
“Woke with the rooster. I couldn’t sleep.”
“So, what’s going on with you and Travis?” Lillian asked as she stretched and yawned.
Bethany gave a sarcastic laugh. “Don’t act so surprised, Bronwyn. It’s so obvious”
“What is so obvious?”
Bethany and Lillian exchanged knowing glances, then Bethany said,
“The obvious attraction between you two.”
“I am not attracted to him.” Bronwyn lied.
“Maybe not, but he definitely is to you.”
“Sh-sh!” Bronwyn closed the door. She poised herself on the edge of the bed.
“Why do you say that?”
“Because, he kept his eye on you all night last night.” Lillian’s tired voice came alive with excitement. “And he followed you when you took off rock climbing.”
“You two sure were gone a long time.” Bethany added sourly. “Just what was going on?”
“Nothing. I didn’t know he had followed me. I thought I was alone until I reached the top. Then he showed up.”
Bronwyn paused, knowing she should not attempt to try and explain what had actually happened on top of the falls. How could she possibly explain such a supernatural moment? They would never understand. Besides, even Bronwyn herself was beginning to wonder if she hadn’t made more of it than what really transpired. She found herself believing more and more that Travis had probably been right and she had actually experienced some sort of altitude malady. She heard herself telling the girls Travis’s explanation of the story.
“Did he have to give you more mouth to mouth?” Lillian teased.
“No” Bronwyn said, trying not to smile. “You two are terrible.”
“You better watch yourself,” Bethany warned. “All kidding aside, I think he is attracted to you.”
“I think so too,” Lillian agreed.
“We’ve been alone twice now, and he’s certainly kept his distance. He’s been nothing but a gentleman.”
“Give him time, Bronwyn,” Bethany said. “He’ll find the opportunity. Then what will you do?”
Bronwyn stood and smiled coyly. “I’ll do nothing. He is a married man, and as beautiful and mysterious as he may be, if he would cheat on his poor crippled wife, then I would not want him. That would take all the beauty of him away and place him in the same good-for-nothing, cheating scoundrel category as Ryan and a hoard of other common men.”
“Hear hear!” Bethany gave Bronwyn a high-five.
“I’m off to write,” Bronwyn said. “Wish me luck. I’ll catch up with you guys later.”

Sunday, September 5, 2010

Another peek....

After supper, Bronwyn retired to the back porch swing to write. Bethany and Lillian sat with her, relaxing in rockers sipping iced tea with lavender, enjoying a calm Sunday evening. Mavis joined the girls, occupying another rocking chair and reading the paper. Bronwyn was listening to her ipod in an attempt to drown out any conversation on the porch.
“You girls enjoy the fireworks last night?” Mavis asked from behind her paper.
“Yes, they were amazing.” Bethany was somewhat startled by the randomness of the question.
“What about you Bronwyn?” Mavis asked, her face still hidden behind the paper.
The music piping into Bronwyn’s ears prevented her from hearing Mavis’s inquiry.
“Bronwyn!” Bethany raised her voice trying to overpower the music.
Bronwyn was busy searching the Bible she found in the inn’s library, attempting to look up the message in Isaiah 42:9.
“What?” She pulled out her earbuds.
“Mavis just asked you if you enjoyed the fireworks last night.” Bethany said, glints of warning in her eyes.
Bronwyn quickly glanced at Mavis, whose face remained hidden by the paper.
“Yes I saw them. They were beautiful.”
“That’s good.” Mavis casually turned the page.
“I was hoping you had a good view.”
Bethany’s eyes widened as she looked at Bronwyn. Bronwyn felt as if her stomach had fallen on the floor. Mavis had to be suspicious. Why hadn’t she asked Lillian the same question? Bronwyn wanted to blurt out “Nothing happened!”
Instead, she returned to her search for Isaiah 42:9. She flipped through the many smaller books, Psalms, Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, Song of Solomon, and Isaiah. She found the book. Her hands began to tremble from the adrenaline rush that had accompanied Mavis’s question. She was only seconds away from reading, “The message that had been delivered just for her” Bronwyn wouldn’t at all be surprised if it said something to the effect of, “Adulterers will burn!”
Her finger scanned the pages, Isaiah 39…40…41…42... Verse 9. Bronwyn read silently:
“See the former things have taken place, and new things I declare. Before they spring into being, I announce them to you.”
The heat sensation. Speeding heart. Lightness in the head.
Bronwyn shakily scribbled the verse on the back of the scroll.
The melodies of the late evening dulcimer player began drifting through the trees, as they did every evening. This was becoming clockwork. The mystifying voice accompanied the dulcimer and beckoned her. The winsome melody drew her attention away from the crowded porch and into the woods. Bronwyn laid the Bible and her computer aside. Standing, she stuffed the scroll back into the pocket of her shorts, and left the porch.

Saturday, August 21, 2010


I’m home again and for the first time sense I arrived back at the old address I have a moment to reflect. For weeks I counted down the days to my coveted vacation. A month in Tennessee to reconnect with my family and my southern roots, to kick off my shoes and be a hillbilly all over again, to sit on mommas deck and watch the fireflies and listen to the crickets, frogs and cicadas; a month to inhale the humid air and fill my lungs with the scents and smells of the earth. Many times I sat on the swing and lost myself in deep thought. I would ask myself over and over again, where do I belong? Why don’t I live here anymore? Where do I fit in this rotating ball? The answers never came…so I simply enjoyed my visit, laughed out loud, took pictures of everything that caught my eye, danced in the parking lot, (by the way no one will ever see that video) socialized in mamma’s kitchen, got my family addicted to LOST, visited the old historical parts of the town, traipsed all over the old haunted Beesley property, went to an acoustical concert in the tiny town of Wartrace, and visited my aunt Dot who is 90 years old and is addicted to facebook! And yes I continued submitting my book to agents and every now and then I actually got a chance to write on my new project. The month went by too fast and before I realized it was time to return home.
I was faced with one of those moments…you know the kind when you are desperately wanting change and you think something miraculous will happen while you are out of your routine and once you return home things will be different. In a sense I did not want to “go fishing” I use that phrase because it is a story in the Bible I relate to probably more than any of the other God encounters I read. It’s found in the book of John chapter 21. After three years of traveling with Yeshua and seeing so many amazing and miraculous life changing events….it seems to be over. So Peter shrugs his shoulders and says well, I guess I am going back….
Simon Peter announced, "I'm going fishing."
The rest of them replied, "We're going with you." They went out and got in the boat. They caught nothing that night. When the sun came up, Jesus was standing on the beach, but they didn't recognize him.
There they are again back at the start. Doing the same ole same ole like they were when Yeshua met them and called them away on an adventure of a lifetime, after He gave them the secrets of life…they go back. But when they went back, nothing in that life had changed. They were still yielding the same pitiful results and what’s worse when the sun came up Yeshua was on the shore in plain sight and they didn’t recognize him.
So here I sit…on my dumb ole boat, yielding the same pitiful results as before. I look around…is he so close and am I looking straight at him and do not recognize him?

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

Something my daughter wrote.....

Today I am posting a beautiful piece written by my daughter Brittany. It spoke to me and I think its a treasure worth sharing :)

One of my favorite things about being in an airplane thousands of feet in the air, is looking out the window. I have always been intrigued by the way things look from up above.I love to see the "big picture" it reminds me of how small I am.It also reminds me of how things can appear so differently, depending on your perspective.A while ago, I was flying back from Wisconsin.I was looking out the window as we flew over a city.I noticed that we as humans put everything in perfectly shaped patches and squares.Everything is measured so accurately with lines and expected patterns. The freeways and the streets all intersect at foreseeable times. Even the grass fields are purposely cut off at designated areas. Everything is controlled with the human mindset of parallel lines and boxes.And then we flew over a river... something humans had no control over.Its pattern was wild and unpredictable. There were beautiful swirls and squiggles.There was no rhyme or reason to any of it.With all of the human tools and reasoning in the world, the pattern of that river will never make logical sense to us.As I was comparing our workmanship to Gods, I realized this was a picture He had been painting for me.We as humans have spent our lives trying to put Him into boxes of our understanding and reasoning.Why? Because we are more comfortable with Him there.We squeeze Him into places He isn't meant to fit into and then wonder why our relationship with Him is dull and lifeless.We long for Him to romance us with beauty and mystery... but then we get scared because we can't wrap our minds around it.And so we try to find reasons and answers for everything.We shove Him into spaces He will simply never fit.And little by little, we create a world without mountains and rivers.And although the flatland is boring, we prefer it because it makes sense to us.Because we can draw lines around it and live in the comfort of our circles and squares.Seeing this was a huge reminder to me that the Lord desires more for us.That is why He takes us to places we don't understand.Sometimes it requires patience on our end.Sometimes getting us there is the most confusing part.We don't understand the twists and the turns of His plan.In our realm of understanding we go from point A to point B.But God is not confined by our numbers and our systematic thinking.And we wouldn't be ready for what He has for us if we walked in straight lines.Every corner we turn is preparing us for something.He works outside the realm of our understanding to grow our faith and to teach us to trust.Because His ways are not our ways.He wants to take us to the unfathomable, intangible places and show us the splendor of His glory.The only problem is... we are afraid.So we have to ask ourselves this question ... what is scarier?Following God outside the realm of my understanding.Or following a God who fits inside a box that I created.I think we all know the answer to that one.Lets be bold. Lets follow Him into the unknown.It may seem risky... but that is where our faith comes in

Sunday, July 25, 2010

Another Sneak Peek

Bronwyn lay in bed and stared at the rotating ceiling fan. Despite her long and adventurous day, slumber would not visit. She realized she was much too tense to sleep. For starters, Bethany had greatly annoyed her on the walk back to the inn. She had launched into a barrage of questions to support her growing suspicion that Bronwyn was on drugs. Against her better judgment, Bronwyn had attempted to tell Bethany of some of the strange events. She mentioned nothing of her deleted stories, realizing it would be impossible to try and explain seeing she had no explanation for it herself. She confided to Bethany that she thought there were peculiar happenings in Moonshine. She mentioned Falcon, the secret locked garden, and the covert meeting between him and Travis that she had stumbled upon. Bethany barely listened, dismissing the stories completely only to ask more questions about her psyche. It was obvious Bethany had become a recent student of Trent’s philosophies.
Feeling defeated, Bronwyn fell into bed, feigning exhaustion and sleep to escape Bethany’s constant advice. She listened to the heavy breathing of her two roommates, her mind too active to sleep.
She quietly slipped from the bed and crept out of the room, tiptoed down the stairs and walked out the back door. The night air was surprisingly cool. The mugginess of the evening had dissipated. She took a seat on the cushioned porch swing, swaying back and forth with ease, hoping the rhythm of the swing combined with the chorus of croaking toads and chirping crickets would be the sleeping aid she desperately needed. The fresh air and change of scenery did wonders to relax the tenseness of her body and slowed down the ramblings of her mind.
Unexpectedly, she heard voices coming from far down the cobblestone path. She raised her head from the back of the swing, then descended the porch steps and crept quietly down the stony path. She sensed a disturbance in one of the gardens. The sound of a scuffle and voices. An intense argument. She couldn’t tell which garden they came from. As she walked, the commotion grew louder.
Bronwyn approached the gate to the sixth garden. It was unlatched. She pushed it open slowly, hoping the gate would not creak and alert the garden‘s occupants. Her slender finger slid across the rough wood. As she pushed open the rough heavy door, a splinter found its way deep underneath her skin. Bronwyn pulled her hand away from the gate, quickly recoiling at the unwanted pain. She examined the splinter and realized it would take tweezers and much better light in order for her to remove it.
She slipped quietly into the garden. Large trees and vines created a canopy at the entrance. This provided Bronwyn with the perfect cover for her clandestine investigation. If Travis would not tell her what was going on, she would find out on her own. She inched her way past the massive oaks, her slender body slithering through silently thru the hanging foliage of the weeping willows. The soft earth beneath her bare feet allowed no noise, muffling her approach. The canopy of leaves kept her hidden and provided her with secrecy.
The ruckus grew louder. The angry voices were now clear. She continued to move from tree to tree, keeping under the weeping willows as she made her way closer to the center of the garden. She began to see figures moving up ahead. Reaching out her hand, she slowly parted the hanging branches. The heat rushed upon her, overwhelming her as she again saw the apparition she had first noticed the night of her arrival.

Friday, July 9, 2010

The Way Things should Be......

When I stood at the altar at 19 and said “I do” I never dreamed I’d be divorced one day. But life plays out and things happen and we each respond to those things and every response and every decision takes us to a destination. Some of the destinations are beautiful and some not so great.
I have learned to make the not so great places beautiful. You can live in a shack and turn it into a palace if you choose to. The house I live in is not the best place I have lived. Believe me I have lived in some beautiful homes and not so beautiful. I came home from work yesterday and my amazing daughter Kendall took it upon herself to open the gallon of yellow paint I had purchased and paint the hallway. What a difference a coat of sunshine yellow paint makes. My ugly little house transformed into a cute little cottage. A little paint here a little pain there, a plant here…and love everywhere. You know how it works.
The best decoration you can give any destination is love. Love covers over a multitude of sins. Yeshua told the rich young ruler to sell everything he had and give it to the poor. He said the greatest commandment was to love the Lord your God with all your heart all your strength and all your mind. He said to love your neighbor as yourself. I have a vivid memory of coming home from work one day. I opened the door and my eldest daughter Autumn was sitting on the couch looking sad and forlorn. When she looked up at me her face broke into sudden relief and she announced to her sisters: “Mommy is home.” In her words I bring a happy feeling when I come.
This past week my x husband had to have a pretty serious surgery. I got up early every morning and prayed for him. I drove him to the hospital and sat in the waiting area with his amazing girlfriend and my x in laws. We waited and laughed at some of the funny moments when the nurse asked which one if us was his wife. He got a funny grin on his face and said, Well this is my x wife and this is my girlfriend. When they asked him who was to make the decision concerning life support should the unthinkable happen, he said my x wife my girlfriend and my dad will decide together. And yes, if that had happened we could have decided together because we all had a common ground. We all love the man lying in the bed awaiting surgery. We all had a special unique love for him that superseded any awkward moment. Hatred, bitterness and revenge are not beautiful home improvements. There is no place for them in our lives.
Divorce is one of those not so great places. If you find yourself there, you can make some home improvements and turn it into a comfortable, loving and welcoming place. It’s truly the way things should be.

Sunday, July 4, 2010

A Canoe Ride

If you were not able to get away for the fourth, then I invite you on a virtual canoe ride....enjoy
From Chapter Three:

Bronwyn paddled her canoe effortlessly across the calm blue surface of the water. The lake proved much more delightful than she had imagined. Bronwyn had met Kevin, a shy young store clerk who blushed the entire time he spoke with her. When she arrived, he’d already floated her canoe into the water. Kevin had pointed out a small peninsula of trees jutting out across the water, telling her to paddle that way and make the turn. “You’ll be delighted with what you see.” He said.
Kevin was right. The lake opened up before her like a vast mirror reflecting the monumental mountains and cloudless sky. Lofty trees and colossal mountains stood vigil, protecting this serene setting. Cedars, spruce and fir trees of all kinds grew on the hillsides, releasing their sacred smell. Two hawks flew overhead, flapping their enormous wings before diving into effortless glides and skimming across the waters. Both hawks seized protesting but defenseless fish and climbed back into the sky, disappearing across the hillside. Bronwyn closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, once again inhaling the invigorating aroma of the mountain and the warmth of the midday sun. She reveled in the quiet peacefulness of the place. There was no noise, save for the chatter of insects in the trees, an occasional splash from a jumping fish, and the chirping of birds. There was no traffic, no loud roar of the bus engine, no car alarms sounding off without an intruder, no cell phone rings, and no loud obnoxious conversations. Bronwyn realized she had not received a call in over twenty-four hours. She usually felt a strong irritation when she could not get a signal for her cell phone. Now, in this setting, she was quite thrilled that no one would be able to interrupt her serene moment…especially Ryan and his annoying, blood thirsty attorneys. Positioning her paddle in the canoe, Bronwyn lay back into the bottom of her boat and closed her eyes.

Friday, June 25, 2010

The Fear of Looking Foolish

This week I have had the pleasure of being the make up artist for the show “Senior Follies” The show is down town San Diego at the beautiful Balboa theater. It has been an interesting week of tech and dress rehearsals. Last night was opening night. The cast is cramming six performances in one weekend! I have had the pleasure of interacting with the cast, doing make up, gluing on eye lashes, pinning wigs, running wildly backstage, bolting up a staircase helping dress a cast member and pinning on hairpieces backstage in the dark and hoping I get it on the performer straight. I have done this sort of thing for many years and for a variety of different shows. There is nothing more thrilling than live theater. However the amazing thing about this particular cast is that every performer is over 55 years of age. Most of them being in their 60’s and 70’s. The eldest cast member is 95 years old and you would never know it! I am inspired by these men and women. The perform for 2 hours straight without an intermission. They have 3 to 4 minutes for costume changes and I have never seen senior citizens hustle like these do. The women dancers have better legs than most 20 year olds, they tap and swing dance, and do the twist. The men croon like Frank Sinatra, and they serenade me while I am doing their make up!
I realized something about these people tonight. Although their bodies may be aging their spirits never have. Their spirits are as youthful as young teens. They have refused to quit. They enjoy their life and are living it out. They are not afraid of looking foolish, they didn’t let that fear rob them of the thrill of receiving their applause and standing ovations.
I believe that there is something in all of us that wants to do something crazy, but our fear of looking foolish keeps us from it. I like what Mark Batterson wrote about the fear of looking foolish in his book “In a Pit With A Lion on a Snowy Day” He said:
If you aren’t willing to look foolish, you’re foolish. Noah looked foolish building an ark in the desert, Sara looked foolish buying maternity clothes at 90. The Israelites looked foolish marching around Jericho blowing trumpets. David looked foolish attacking Goliath with a sling shot. Benaiah looked foolish chasing a lion. The wise men looked foolish following yonder star. Peter looked foolish stepping out of a boat in the middle of the lake. And Jesus looked foolish hanging half naked on a cross.
But that is the essence of faith and the results speak for themselves.
Noah was saved from the flood. Sara gave birth to Issac. The walls of Jericho came tumbling down. Benaiah killed the lion. The wise men found the Messiah. Peter walked on water, and Jesus rose from the dead.
Can I tell you why some people have never killed a giant or walked on water or seen the walls come tumbling down? It’s because they weren’t willing to look foolish.
God chooses the foolish things to shame those who think they are wise….Nothing has changed.

Thursday, June 24, 2010

Ride along with Travis

Today was great! To celebrate the request for a full I will post another excerpt.

Travis jumped into his truck and sped down the highway. He, if anyone, knew the dangers of this storm. This storm was angry. It had come suddenly and unexpectedly, and was ready to take its vengeance. Travis knew not taking immediate shelter was an invitation to suicide. However, the risk of taking shelter was too high. He had seen what the presence could do. He knew he was powerless against the force. He could not stop it, but he would do all within his power to keep it from claiming another life. Especially hers. The wind pushed hard against his truck, as if it sensed the confrontation. Travis grasped the wheel. The muscles in his forearms bulged as he attempted to hold it on the road. The rain swept over his truck in sheets, blanketing his windshield and making it almost impossible for him to see. Travis strained his eyes as he desperately tried to see through the blinding downpour. Though flicking back and forth at full speed, his windshield wipers were of no use. The sky was dark; the only light came from the lightning that danced tauntingly around his truck.
Then a flash, a thought. Travis turned for the lake. He had been repairing a shelf in the storeroom of Gil’s market earlier when Bronwyn came in inquiring about the canoes. He hated to think she was still on the lake during this incredible storm. Never the less, deep in the recesses of his soul he knew that was exactly where she was. He drove through town at full speed, before connecting to the secondary roads that surrounded the lake.
The sky was completely dark. Storm clouds continued to boil over into the sky, blocking out any light from the waning sun or rising moon. Travis reached into the floorboard of his truck and retrieved a powerful flood light. He lowered his window. The rain blew in, soaking him instantly. Holding the light out of the window, he scanned the lake. Nothing! He reduced his speed and continued his search, the beam of light acting as a lighthouse tower on an angry sea…nothing! Moments later his light reflected off an object bouncing in the waters not far from shore. Leaning out his window, he aimed the light. It fell across the waters and landed on an abandoned, overturned canoe.
Travis’s heart sank. An overturned, drifting canoe was not good news. Travis practically jumped from his truck before placing it in park. He ran down the bank to the lake, his feet slipping in the wet mud. He ran into the rushing waters and made his way towards the bobbing canoe, keeping his light aimed straight ahead.

Friday, June 18, 2010

What Daddy Said....

Today was one of those days…you know a day where God gives you the grace to endure the day instead of the grace to enjoy the day. It started off about 5:30 AM with a very nice rejection letter. You see as an author trying to hook a literary agent I have submitted to countless agents. The majority of them in New York and the time difference between the big apple and San Diego is three hours. So, while I am happily dreaming of better days my phone alerts me that I have an incoming e mail. I can barely see, my eyes will hardly open, after all it’s five in the morning here. My pesky neighbor Bob the Builder and his son Handy Many still have an hour before they come outside and rev their engines and fire up the weed whacker and nail gun. I fumble with my phone and click on the email and start the day with yet another rejection letter. Who cares? The agent wasn’t one I was really hoping for anyway. Her rejection was very nice and she complimented my writing skills out the whazoo .She said she loved the title of my book, and the story was an amazing read, however she stated that she must pass for the oddest reason….she neglected to inform me what the odd reason was. Could it be my email was number 38 on her list and those two numbers frighten her? Or could it be she has no desire to earn anymore money and she knows my book is going to go so big that she just can’t handle that kind of commission? Oh well, I mumble a feeble prayer thanking God for the rejection because I know it’s his way of looking out for OUR book and making sure it goes into the right hands. As I doze off again, Bob the builder and Handy Many emerge and decide to rev the diesel engine in their work van parked directly under my bedroom window. So much for sleeping….and the morning got worse.
Yes I cried some today, I know most of you think I am a super hero, my body makes people automatically think that, and you think I am as tough as nails and I never cry, but news flash. I do and sometimes it feels good to open my mouth, distort my face and wail like Lucille Ball did on the I love Lucy show. I re did my make up and headed to work and decided today would be a good day to call daddy. After all it’s a 30 minute drive to work and of course the radio in my car doesn’t work, neither does the horn and unfortunately my middle finger makes no noise. The air conditioner doesn’t work either. My blue tooth quit working sometime ago so I have to put the phone on speaker. And you know what that means…windows up or it will be too noisy for daddy to hear me. So I suffered to be able to talk to my dad. And…it was worth it. I love the sound of his cheery “well hello Denise!” We talked and he asked how I was and I was honest and he knows times are hard, they are for him too. Then we started talking about Journey and what a joy she is and I told him how she lives in such innocence. She is the happiest person I know. She has no clue that times are hard. She doesn’t know the house is falling apart around us, she doesn’t know mommy drives a clunker, She thinks she has more toys than anyone in the world (I think she might) and she thinks her mommy is a mermaid. She believes she is an artist and proved it by scribbling all over my beautiful white vanity table. She is blissfully happy because she is loved unconditionally. Daddy responded and said. I think that is what Yeshua was talking about when he said:
"Unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.”
Maybe little children are still innocent and live from the kingdom toward earth. When we grow older we get wiser and sadder.
Kingdom thinking believes that anything is possible at anytime. It is activated when you and I with tender hearts surrender to the thought pattern of God. When we receive his imaginations and say “yes.” We want our minds to be full of kingdom leaven, kingdom influence. We want miracles and we want those miracles to have their full effect on us, changing the way we see and behave.
"I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.
Matthew 18:3

Thursday, June 17, 2010

Another excerpt!

The cabin was dark now, save for a few glowing embers from the fire. Travis was fully reclining on his back. His head propped up on his arms, His eyes now fixed on the ceiling. Bronwyn lay on the couch and listened to the steady rain falling outside.
“Tell me about Mavis,” she said quietly.
Bronwyn had wanted to ask Travis that question for the past several hours, but for some reason could not drum up the courage. Now that they were in total darkness, it seemed easier to ask.
“What do you want to know?”
“How long have you two known each other?”
“Pretty much our whole lives”
“Really? Did you always like her?”
“No,” He was matter of fact. “She was really quite a tease when she was younger”
Bronwyn laughed, but remained somewhat cautious. “What happened to her? What caused her injuries?”
Travis took a minute before he answered. Bronwyn could see the outline of his body on the floor. As much as she wanted the answer, a part of her wished she had never asked the question.
“She was badly injured in a storm somewhat like this one. She didn’t take cover soon enough.”
Bronwyn remained silent.
“Do you love her?” Bronwyn surprised herself by asking.
“Yes, I do.”
An extended silence, except for the popping and crackling of a few dying embers. Bronwyn closed her eyes and began to doze off.
“You’re a good man, Asa,” she said, yawning, drifting off to sleep.
Travis lay there a little while longer. His heart pounded with intensity as he
stared at the ceiling. No one had called him by the name of Asa for quite some time.

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

A Secret Meeting....

From Chapter Seven:

Smoking man and polite man rode out the storm with the warrior. Neither had spoken for quite some time. There was extreme concern on the warriors face. Lighting his pipe, he walked over to the glass window in the roof of his deep woods home and stared through it. Taking a few puffs, he turned and walked back to his two guests. “No stars visible tonight,” he said.
The men remained silent. At this point, words were meaningless. Each knew, or at least sensed, what the others must have been thinking.
Finally, the warrior broke the silence. “After six hundred years it’s finally been
opened again. They know she has arrived. They came through tonight, this time with a

Sunday, June 13, 2010

Do you really know what you want?

I spent the morning floating on a raft in my pool and playing with Journey in the water. The rest of the afternoon I embarked on the futile task of cleaning out the garage. I dug through manyboxes, got a spider bite on my finger that burned like fire, and sneezed and scratched the entire time. Now for me, cleaning out the garage takes hours because as I dig through boxes I stop and look at old pictures, journals and letters. I try on out dated jewelry, laugh at my previous style of clothes, and hold close to me the baby clothes Journey has outgrown. As I was looking through some of the memories I picked up a photograph of myself standing with friends of my past. So much of my life has much water under the bridge. I barely recognized the woman in the picture as being me. That lifestyle I used to have doesn’t fit me anymore, and I don’t think I could go back if I wanted to. It reminded me of the lyrics of a song that says:The places that used to fit me can not hold the things I’ve learned and those roads were closed off to me while my back was turned. I also dug through boxes that belong to my daughters. I confess I read some of their journals. I know they wouldn’t mind and if they had been at home today helping I am sure we would have sat down and read them together anyway. That’s how close we are. It was very interesting to me that both Autumn and Brittany’s journals from several years past were prayer journals. (Did I raise them right or what?) As I read their heartfelt prayers I noticed that in both of the journals the girls were asking God to give them back the “guy” who they had recently broke up with. Both girls wrote of their undying love and their willingness to change or do whatever to be with the one they loved. Time has past and obviously God did not grant those requests. Brittany is now married to another, the love of her life and Autumn has moved on as well. I sat beside the boxes and cried at some of the things I read…. much too personal to share. What I realized is through most of our life we think we know what will be the best for us; we beg and plead for God to give us what we want. If only we could see years down the road that sometimes what we want in the here and now will not fit us later. God is a loving father who wants to give us the best. I am not trying to say that the guys weren’t the best. Both guys are great but maybe the girls wouldn’t have been the best for them either. God loves us all and if we will only trust and wait….good things will come.

Saturday, June 12, 2010

From Chapter Five

Another excerpt...

Today my mother, stepdad, my sister and her kids canoed down the Hiwassee river in Tennessee. They had gorgeous weather and a great time. So in the theme of their day I decided on an excerpt from chapter five. Except Bronwyn isn't having as great a canoe ride.... enjoy.....

Bronwyn looked into the sky; it had grown unusually dark. That part of her nightmare was real. A chill had fallen in the air, causing the wind to increase; it bounced the canoe about the water. Bronwyn shivered at the sudden change of temperature. Only a few hours ago, the lake had been a peaceful paradise. Now it was a sinister snare of deception. The trees that before had stood erect, pointing happily to the sapphire sky, now bent over, cowering in fear before the breath of the storm. The sky that had provided a playground for whippoorwill, warblers, larks, water thrush and an occasional hawk was now devoid of any fowl. The vexed howl of the wind replaced the delightful songs of the birds.
It seemed to Bronwyn as if all nature cowered in fear of the arrival of some hideous creature. She sensed an overpowering feeling of doom as if there were some foreboding secret of which all of nature was aware. She shivered uncontrollably from the iciness of the wind and the eeriness that penetrated her soul. Thunder sounded in the distance as smoky black clouds rolled violently across the sky. Bronwyn attempted to maneuver the canoe to the dock. The muscles in her arms burned and her hands cramped from the tightness of her clutch on the oar. All of Bronwyn’s efforts to slice the water with the paddle met in futility, as the tumultuous waves tossed the oar to the surface as if it were nothing more than a wooden spoon. The rain smacked the lake in a downpour. The heavy wind blew the torrential rain into her face impairing her vision and making it impossible for her to see. Her heart raced within her chest.
She knew her circumstances were not good. Bronwyn considered her situation. She guessed she was close to shore, yet uncertain as to how close. With the increasing wind, she could feel her tiny canoe pushed further back into the lake and the consuming waves. She contemplated abandoning the boat altogether, and possibly swimming to shore. She was a decent swimmer, and could perhaps move her body against the fierce waves, more easily than she could maneuver the canoe with a worthless paddle. However, as fatigued as she was becoming, she feared running out of strength and then having no place of rest. Bronwyn decided to continue her paddling and get as close to shore as possible before taking the eminent plunge into the angry waters.
A streak of lightning zigzagged across the lake directly in front of her. She realized her situation was growing dimmer by every second. She placed her drenched arm across her forehead, shielding her eyes in an attempt to get a visual assessment of her distance from shore.
Her heart leaped with excitement. She was closer than she realized! She eyed several trees growing out of the water, many of their branches extended farther out over the lake. Bronwyn tossed her oar aside, and reached out to grab a branch, to pull herself closer to shore. Her sudden movement, combined with the unevenness of the water and the overpowering waves, toppled her canoe, tossing her into the angry lake. The consuming waters rushed over her, the waves much stronger than she had anticipated.
Now disoriented Bronwyn tried to position herself toward the shore. However, the wind, waves and the torrential downpour teamed up against her. She desperately needed a focal point. If only she could get a quick glimpse of the shoreline, she could swim there with all her might. She dare not waste her last bit of strength until she was certain of her bearings. Swimming in the wrong direction would cast her deeper into the lake, resulting in inevitable death. Bronwyn’s legs burned beneath her. Exhaustion was setting in. She feared she could not tread the water much longer, yet certain if she stopped she would surely be overtaken by the monstrous waves.
The sky was almost dark now. Little light left. Dismal gray surrounded her on every side. She strained her eyes for one small glimpse of shoreline. Just one glimmer of hope and she would exude all her strength to make it there.
Another bolt of lightning hit nearby. The flash provided just enough light to point her way to shore. Bronwyn’s heart beat with excitement. With the last bit of strength she forced her way, fighting against the powerful waters. Each wave that rose high above her pushed her back, keeping her from the shore.
Bronwyn swam, determined. This is not how my life is going to end! Thoughts of her friends and family receiving the dismal news of her death invaded her mind. She pondered how the news would affect Ryan. She wondered if he would feel any remorse. More than likely, he would be delighted. With her death, he would be free to use the screenplay he was so desperately trying to steal from her. Her simmering anger gave her an added bit of strength and new momentum. She tossed him from her mind. He would not be her last thought.
Another wave washed over her, filling her mouth with water. She coughed, strangled by the sudden rush of fluid. The rain’s intensity increased, pouring over her along with the crashing waves. She was losing her last bit of strength at an alarming rate. She lowered her legs, to see if she could touch bottom. Nothing.
Her heart ached. She wanted to cry. Her strength was completely gone. Her heart pounded so hard it seemed to be marching from her chest directly into her throat, choking her, suffocating her. God help me! Please God, I’m not ready to die, not now, not alone, not here, not this way. Please don’t let this happen to me, Help me please. Her heart pursed into itself a desperate prayer.
Bronwyn felt a small tap on her back. She whirled around. The canoe! Although it had capsized, it was amazingly still afloat! If she could manage to hang on to it, she might have a chance to drift to safety. She reached for the canoe. The enormous waves pushed it toward her at the same time causing it to violently crash into her head.
The sudden rush of pain choked the breath out of her. Bronwyn gasped… all was growing dark and quiet. She felt her body go limp. With all her strength ebbing away, she attempted to grab the canoe. Her hand had no power to grip; it only slapped at the side of the boat before sliding down across the hull and into the water. All was dark, save for a bright piercing light that blinded her eyes as the swirling waters took possession of her body.
There was no rain, no thunder, no howling wind. No final thoughts. Only a bright light followed by a quiet cold darkness.

Monday, June 7, 2010

Another excerpt for your sneak peek reading pleasure…. Today is June 7th and it looks like it will be another hot day, so let’s take a walk with the girls…..
From Chapter Two:The Secrets of Moonshine

Bronwyn half listened to Bethany and Lillian’s conversation as the three continued their trek into Moonshine. It was nearly one in the afternoon; the midday heat was beginning to take its toll. However, the heat wasn’t the reason Bronwyn was disengaged. Nor was it the fact that not one car had passed during the entire half hour they had been walking. It was the image Bronwyn was certain she could see following right long with them, masking itself in the gargantuan trees that provided a shaded tunnel over the winding road. Had to be the same-cloaked figure that had followed her in the storm. With every curve, Bronwyn desperately hoped to see some hint of a town ahead. However, every turn proved more of the same.
Bronwyn did not intend to alarm Bethany and Lillian of their stalker. She was certain that one word of impending danger would result in a wave of hysteria from Lillian and a barrage of questions from Bethany that she could not answer. Her best defense was to be aware of the person without them knowing. Bronwyn continued walking silently, blocking out the conversation and lending her ear to the woods on her right. Casually glancing over her shoulder, she could see that the dark cloaked figure was moving alongside, in rhythm to their steps, like a long shadow. Her mind traveled back to the bridge and the knife she saw gleaming in the moonlight, followed by the figure jumping into the river. A cold chill tickled her spine.
“Bronwyn!” Bethany’s exclamation interrupted her thoughts.
“You promised you’d be fun, but you haven’t said a word since we left.”
“Are you certain we’re going in the right direction?” Lillian’s voice was a whimper. “We’ve been walking forever and there’s no sign of a town anywhere.”
“Mavis said it was this way.” Bronwyn was beginning to wonder if there was indeed a town ahead.
“I’m wondering if there even is a town,” Bethany said, plucking the thought off Bronwyn’s tongue. She nudged Bronwyn slightly in the ribs, her secret way of informing her friend that she was planning on frightening Lillian.
“I mean think about it. We just trusted a couple of strangers. We know nothing about them. And, for that matter, why are there no other guests at the inn? In the height of summer? Only us?”
Bronwyn could see that Bethany’s words were taking their toll on Lillian, whose facial expressions of impending heatstroke changed to full fright.
Bethany used her foreboding voice to emphasize a certain mood. She had the uncanny ability to make the most mundane sentence sound thrilling or terrifying. “Do you realize no one knows where we are right now? No one. Not even us. We can’t call anyone because there is no cell reception and the phones at the inn are supposedly out because of the storm last night. We’ve all heard of people who just disappear never to be seen or heard from again.
I wonder if this is how it starts. We all saw our bus being towed away, but to where? They could have been removing evidence that we were ever here.”
Bethany’s last words fell hard on Lillian.
“Stop it! I refuse to be the victim of your outrageous stories.”
The three continued walking without conversation each thinking of the direst circumstance that could possibly befall them.
A rustling from the woods shattered their silence.
“What was that?” Lillian gasped.
Bronwyn decided it was time.
“I didn’t want to say anything, but I’m pretty sure we’re being followed.”
Bethany smiled smugly, believing Bronwyn to be playing along with her attempt to spook Lillian.
“We are?” Lillian nearly yelled. “How do you know?”
Bronwyn hushed her. “Don’t make a scene, Lillian, but something or someone has been following us the entire way.”
“How can you tell?”
“If you look over to your right, you can see it moving along with us, over in the trees.”
Lillian glanced over her shoulder. “I don’t see anything.”
“Keep looking” Bronwyn kept her eyes fixed on the road ahead.
“My God what are we going to do?”
“Just keep walking. Don’t run”
Lillian picked up the pace, turning the girls’ casual stroll into a brisk power walk.
“What if it’s a bear?” Bethany suggested.
“Or a mountain lion? I’ve heard about mountain lion attacks they’re horrible. My god, I don’t want to be mauled! What should we do?”
Bethany almost laughed. “Climb the nearest tree.”
Bronwyn knew it was not an animal following them. However, she decided to keep that bit of information to herself, to avoid frightening Lillian any more than she already was.
Too late. Lillian had broken into a full-on run. Bronwyn and Bethany were forced to keep pace with her.
“Slow down, Lil,” Bethany said. “Dang, I’ve never seen you move so fast! Don’t get too far ahead. There’s safety in numbers.”
The loud sound of a snapping tree branch met their ears. Bronwyn turned her head just in time to see a hooded figure move between two trees.

Sunday, May 30, 2010

Memorial Day Weekend

I will be heading up to my sisters house in Corona. We will all be hanging around the pool as we soak up the sun and laugh and talk and play. Its always so much fun to relax and catch up on everything.

I have decided to post another excerpt from my book, The Secret of Moonshine. The piece I selected is from chapter nine as our heroine Bronwyn, along with members of her stranded drama troupe, are taking a moonlight hike to the waterfalls. The hike is being led by the mysterious Travis.

“Hurry and change clothes” Bethany laced her shoe. “Travis is taking those of us who want to go on a moonlit hike to some waterfalls.”
“He is?” Bronwyn’s suspicion rose, remembering his private meeting with the smoking man. Perhaps they had been planning something devious that was soon to play out.
“I don’t know. It kind of sounds dangerous. Maybe we should stay here.”
“You’re serious?”
“I’m just remembering the wild animals, you know, bears, that feed at night.”
“Oh come on, please. Travis wouldn’t have asked us to come if he thought we would be bear food. Now hurry and put your swim suit on. It ought to be fun. Travis said the falls were breathtaking.”
Bronwyn could not stop her heart from racing at the mention of Travis’s name. She scolded herself, again reminding herself that Travis was married… not to mention the lack of trust she now held toward him.
The offer was inviting in spite of her suspicions. The thought of a night hike to the waterfalls seemed thrilling in itself. As a night owl, evening was her favorite, along with dusk. The heat of the day would lesson, the first star of the evening would appear, and the moon would enter the night sky in fullest brilliance. She loved the moon whether it was full or waning. There was always something peaceful about it, not to mention romantic… there she was again, obsessing on Travis.
Bronwyn quickly changed her clothes and joined Bethany and Lillian on the back porch, along with the others. Travis was leaning on the railing, an unwilling captive audience to Walt’s legendary hospital story. Trent and Daniel were there, as well as an adventurous Karley, who said she was only going to scout out a secret place to dispose of Wilbur’s body after she was done with him. Carla Jo also joined the group. Her presence in the group eased Bronwyn’s mind, dispelling any suspicion of malice. Surely Travis would not bring a child along on a night massacre. Anna, Marcus and Wilbur had decided to stay behind resting in the comforts of the inn, choosing to do their hiking in the light of day.
Travis turned his attention away from Walt’s story, his eyes falling upon Bronwyn. Bethany noticed a slight smile turning at the corner of his mouth.
“Let’s go,” he said.
Shouldn’t we take some flashlights?” Lillian asked, concern in her voice.
“The moon is brilliant tonight” Travis said. “You won’t need them.””
Travis led the way, skirting past the west side of the inn towards the river, the others trailing him while laughing and talking. Carla Jo giggled thrilled to be coming along. They reached the river’s edge, passing the small dock and grassy picnic area. Travis led them a bit further down the river bank, then stepped onto a narrow path that disappeared into the thick woods bordering the property. The hikers were now forced to walk two by two down the dirt trail, with Bethany and Bronwyn bringing up the rear. Travis led. Carla Jo cozied up to Trent directly behind Travis, Walt and Karley paired up following Trent and Carla Jo. Daniel and Lillian fell in line next leaving Bethany and Bronwyn last. For sometime, they wound in and out of the dense trees and down the sides of the river bank. The river snaked deep inside the forest. At times, the path would be blanketed in total darkness, as the light from the moon was unable to penetrate through the thick foliage of the trees. The darkness became so thick that at times, the hikers could actually feel it. Bronwyn placed her hand in front of her face. It was barely visible.
“This is why I wanted to bring a flashlight,” Lillian said, her nervous voice ringing out. The pace slowed as each person’s confidence diminished. Within seconds, the path wound into a partial clearing, moonlight flooding the area. Each time, the light appeared more splendid in contrast to the utter darkness that preceded it. Sighs and gleeful laughter often escaped the hiker’s mouths, only to be silenced by the path, as it again wound into total darkness. This pattern continued for most of the hike.
The last part of the walk took place in darkness, it seemed to last much longer than usual. The chatter diminished altogether and Bronwyn could sense anxiousness within the group. There was a noticeable air of uncertainty. The path narrowed even more, splitting up hiking partners as everyone walked single-file.
“Everyone grab a hand and stay close,” Travis boomed from the front of the line. Travis took Carla Jo’s hand who eagerly took Trent’s, who grabbed Karley’s, who reluctantly took Walt’s, who happily took Lillian’s, who gratefully took Daniel’s, who casually took Bethany’s, who took Bronwyn’s. Bronwyn desperately wanted to reach back and take Ryan’s, but again, there was nothing but emptiness behind her. She walked along in total darkness, clutching tightly to Bethany’s hand. The woods were alive with chirping crickets, croaking frogs, an occasional hooting owl and the lonesome howl of a coyote. The soothing sounds of nature being constantly interrupted by the whining cries of Lillian.
“You still with me?” Bethany whispered.
“Whose hand do you think you’re holding?”
“Just making sure. I’m not sure what we’ve gotten ourselves into.”
Bronwyn could hear the apprehension in Bethany’s voice. She had to admit, she did feel a little like a sheep being led to slaughter. She thought back to when she had stumbled upon Travis and the cloaked man in the garden. What if they had met to plan out tonight’s massacre? What if Travis was leading them to a hidden place, where a coven of knife-wielding hooded figures would come upon them and sacrifice the lot of them to some strange cult god of the mountains? But if that was the case, why bring along his little girl?
That offered small consolation, but not enough. Bronwyn’s heart sped up as she reprimanded her vivid imagination. The cheerful chatter of the group had dissipated. She could also sense everyone’s uncertainty. The darkness was now almost unbearable.
A presence behind her. A shiver up her spine.
Bronwyn glanced over her shoulder into the thick darkness. Her eyes could not focus on anything, yet she knew something was moving quietly along behind her. She took in a deep breath…that was it! The stale aroma of cigarettes. It was the familiar smell that clings to the clothes of smokers, one that overpowered the scents of pine and spruce. The smoking man was nearby; she was sure of it. Uneasiness overpowered her. She half expected to feel the cold blade of a knife dig into her flesh at any moment.

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

The Sun will Shine all the Clearer

I have recently launched a face book fan page called The Secret of Moonshine. I am overwhelmed at the kind response from many of my face book friends and followers. I assure you I am aggressively taking the next step now that my novel is finished and has been professionally edited. I am researching agents who work within my genre and am querying only those I research and feel a confidence in trusting my work to their care.
Most of you know I am a single mother, full time hairstylist and to be honest I am also making submitting my novel a full time job. I never stop researching, reading, querying, promoting….you name it, I am doing it.
Why? Because I love to tell stories. Because I began writing stories when I was nine years old on a bright orange typewriter I got for Christmas. Because I sincerely believe a great story can change a life. I am an avid fan of the TV series LOST. I loved the story, the characters, the secret hidden elements that we along with the characters struggled to unravel. The series ended this past Sunday evening after six years and I along with millions of fans sat on the edge of my seat waiting for answers, for the cryptic hidden message of the island to be revealed. And then…at the end, there were no answers only a breathtaking awe-inspiring death and the spiritual reunion of the characters as they met in the afterlife. When the show ended there was a stunned silence in the room. As the next few days passed I conversed with many people about the ending and read countless articles and post from adoring fans totally applauding the ending along with angry viewers disappointed that the secrets were never disclosed. To be honest I couldn’t get it out of my head either. Then I came to this conclusion:
We are all LOST and just as the characters in the story, our world crashes and we struggle to survive. And I believe we will more than likely never figure out the secrets of the universe before we go, and the world will continue to go on long after we leave it. But in the end it’s all about the choices you make and how much love you give away. Even Jesus summed it all up saying to love God with all your heart and soul, mind and strength and to love your neighbor as yourself. Now abides faith hope and love, but the greatest of these is love….In the end…it’s all that matters.
I think we love epic stories like LOST or the Lord of the Rings because our souls know they are meant for so much more. We long for the struggle so we can vanquish evil and triumph for a greater cause.
So why do I write the stories birthed from my soul? The quote below explains it for me perfectly:
“It's like in the great stories Mr. Frodo, the ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger they were, and sometimes you didn't want to know the end because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end it's only a passing thing this shadow, even darkness must pass. A new day will come, and when the sun shines it'll shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you, that meant something even if you were too small to understand why. But I think Mr. Frodo, I do understand, I know now folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn't. They kept going because they were holding on to something.
What are we holding onto, Sam?
That there's some good in the world, Mr. Frodo, and it's worth fighting for.”
The Secret of Moonshine…. a story of redemption…hopefully coming soon

Sunday, April 25, 2010

As most of my friends know I have written my first Novel. The title is,
The Secret of Moonshine. It is the first book in the Moonshine Series. I am absolutely in love with this story.

My dream is to be published now that the first book is complete and edited.

I have been a story teller my entire life. Some of you may remember back in the day when the living room would be full of teens and I would be telling scary stories. My Little Brown Man story was the most popular scaring the toughest of the tough!

A year ago I decided to Chase the Wild Goose so to speak, and follow my heart. I walked away from my job and wrote the story lodged in my heart.
The entire process has been an education. I have learned so much about the world of the writer. I have made some huge mistakes and accidentally done some things right!

Last February I attended a writers conference. I ventured there alone and a bit intimidated. I attended several classes and a couple of read and critiques. It was at that conference I met an editor who edited my story and encouraged me more than he could ever know. He told me he believed in my book. I was thrilled! The truth be known I was terrified when I handed my manuscript over to him. I was so afraid he would send it back and say "Start all over!" But he didn't! He told me to "Get my promotional wheels turning" that is what I am doing. I am promoting with this blog. It will be a start so I ask you to share this link with all your friends. I will blog and share updates on the process. I will also put excerpts of the book up from time to time and share some of the cryptic secrets of the series.
Enjoy a selection from chapter eleven.....

The garden gate swung open. There was not enough light for her to see who entered. Maybe it was Bethany and Lillian. She hoped. Girl talk would be therapeutic right now.
The footsteps grew closer. The approaching figure stepped into the moonlight. Bronwyn’s heart leaped a bit.
He approached the pond and sat next to Bronwyn. She was glad he did. Despite the fact she was trying to convince herself she wasn’t interested in him, she longed to be near him. Besides, she intended to interrogate him. She knew that, at the least he was keenly aware of who lurked in the woods. He knew the first day she had questioned him, yet he had avoided the subject, blaming it on kids or curious teenagers.
“What’s going on around here? Who are the cloaked men stalking us from the woods? I know you know. I saw you talking with one of them in the garden yesterday.”
Travis looked out over the pond.
“There are secrets and mysteries that are not to be revealed to everyone.”
Anger rose within Bronwyn. “That’s unfair.”
“How is that?”
“I’m obviously being stalked. Am I not allowed to know why?”
“In time.”
His words frightened her. “What do you mean by that?”
“Exactly what I said. You will know in time.”
Bronwyn’s agitation continued to rise. “Maybe I won’t wait for your time. What if I march right into the inn and tell everyone and make a call to the local police?”
“Won’t do you any good.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“No.” Travis hurled a small stone across the water. “I am protecting you.”
His words stunned her into silence.
Travis returned to face her. “How’s the re write going?”
Bronwyn would not allow herself to be deceived. There was more to these hooded creatures than Travis wanted her to know…something strangely unusual at work in these mountains. She sensed it from the moment of her arrival three nights ago. If Travis was protecting her, that must mean she was in danger. If the cloaked figures meant her harm, then why was he having a private conversation with one of them?
She looked at Travis. He was reading her thoughts.
“In time,” he said quietly. “How is the re-writing going?”
Bronwyn stared at him, her emotions waging a war inside. She feared the man that sat before her in many ways, yet her heart ached for him. She longed to be near him, yet another part of her desired to run far away from him. There was no escaping the fact that she was unwillingly drawn to him.
She sighed.
“It’s not going. I’ve been staring at a blank computer screen all day, and have produced nothing. I don’t know; maybe I’m done with writing.”
“Do you think that you’re wasting your time writing these scripts, and putting off the story that is buried deep within you? I think you’re burying it deeper by all the clutter you allow in your life.”
“Yes”, Bronwyn answered quickly. “I know that for certain. But, these stories, no matter how trite and sappy, pay the bills.”
“Then you might as well be writing for the National Enquirer.” Stinging words.
Bronwyn desired to snap off a sarcastic, defensive rebuttal, but she had no words. Travis took advantage of her silence.
“You’re only making a living for yourself, instead of living the life you were born to live.”
The heat sensation began rising within her once again, cued by his words. Her heart beat faster. She reached deep into the water in an attempt to cool her arms. She nervously splashed more water over the top of her legs, and then repeated the action by splashing her neck and chest.
Travis pressed on. “You’re attempting to write a love story, yet love is such a vast subject, and one with intense emotion. Science can’t even explain love, and you’re trying to write about that emotion between two people, yet you have never really loved anyone on this earth except yourself.”
“What!” Shock. Outrage. “How can you say that? You don’t know me. I have loved. I loved Ryan deeply.”
“You never really loved Ryan.” He sounded certain.
Bronwyn lifted her feet from the water. Intrigued, she turned her body to face Travis. She looked directly into his dark eyes. “Okay…explain yourself.”
Travis stared back, once again his eyes penetrating her soul.
“Can you take it?”
“Take what?”
“The truth.”
“Why wouldn’t I be able to take the truth?”
“Because truth always sets you free. And some people find it fearful to be totally free. For some reason, they seem to find comfort in the chains that bind them.”
Bronwyn’s eyes flashed as she leaned forward, her body closer to Travis than she intended.
“I’m not afraid of anything”
Travis suppressed another smile that pulled at the corner of his lips.
“You’re a storyteller. You invent characters. You create them in your imagination exactly how you wish them to be. Correct?”
Bronwyn nodded.
“You did the same with Ryan. You loved a man who did not exist anywhere but in your ideals. You loved a person that wasn’t actually Ryan.”
“Not true. I knew him very well. We lived together. You get to know someone very well that way.”
“Then he suddenly changed and turned into someone you didn’t know anymore. Right?”
“Yes, in a way he did.” She couldn’t argue with that.
“He didn’t change. You were finally forced to see Ryan for who he really was. The true Ryan. Not your ideal created version of him.”
Bronwyn contemplated Travis’ comment. His words seemed so obvious. Bronwyn didn’t want to think that she had actually fallen for a self-absorbed, ego-driven shallow person. She was smarter than that. Now she wondered if Ryan had ever loved her. Obviously he had not.
Sadness gripped her. “I guess Ryan never really loved me. His true love was obviously fame and recognition.”
“If all that had been offered to Ryan had been offered to you, would you have taken it?”
Bronwyn thought a minute before she answered.
“Six months ago, I am sure I would have. I’d been crazy not to. But I’d have taken Ryan right along with me.”
“What if Ryan had asked you to turn it all down?”
“I never asked Ryan to turn it all down.”
“That’s not what I asked you.”
Her voice rose, all her suppressed anger for Ryan resurfacing. “It would have been very selfish of him.”
“Would you have turned it all down for him?”
“No” She nearly shouted it. “No, I wouldn’t have turned any of it down for him. I would have seen him for the self-serving, egotistical, person that he was.”
Bronwyn’s voice trailed off as she realized her last statement…Seen Ryan for who he was…
Travis was right. She had invented Ryan to be the man she wanted him to be, the man for whom she longed, never seeing him for who he really was.
She looked at Travis, realization shinning in her eyes. He leaned forward and said softly,
“If I say, I love you Bronwyn. Do I mean I love you in the same way as I love these mountains, or the smell of the earth after a good rain, or the way I love music? Do I love you because the way you look ignites a passion inside of me? Is my love for you only contingent on the way it affects me? How it makes me feel? If so, then I only truly love myself. And I only love and want you for how it affects me.”
Travis moved very close to Bronwyn, his eyes reaching deep into her soul.
“Or do I love you, Bronwyn? Do I love the person who looks at me from those emerald green eyes? Do I love you despite the times you are angry and bitter and unlovely? Do I continue to love you although you freely gave your heart to another? Can I send you away knowing I will never experience you, but you, will experience all you’ve ever dreamed of? I can if my love is for you and not myself.”
Bronwyn was silent, completely entranced in Travis’s words. The heat weakened her body. She wanted to cry, sob tears of regret, wasted time, loneliness. Tears of emptiness. Everything within her wanted to lean against Travis’ chest. She wanted him to wrap his arms around her and hold her under the moonlight. If only he would make the first move. If only he would offer.
They sat in silence for a few moments. Despite her inner urgings, Bronwyn turned her body away from Travis and back to the water.
“True love is sacrifice,” Travis said.
“Have you sacrificed a lot for Mavis?”
“Love never keeps count.”
“Has she done the same for you?”
“Love never keeps count,” he repeated.
An unseen tear escaped Bronwyn’s eye and splashed into the pond. She quickly stroked the waters not wanting Travis to notice. The moonlight reflected off the rippling surface.
“I couldn’t imagine a more perfect place.”