A rose is a rose

by any other name. I heard that some place.The original saying is from Shakespeare's play Romeo and Juliet: What's in a name? That which we call a rose By any other word would smell as sweet.
I just read an article by Tanja Cilia about naming children unusual names.
(http://www.timesofmalta.com/articles/view/20120328/blogs/whatever-happened-to-baby-jane.413027)
  Unusual names? Heck, I have trouble coming up with names for my characters (normal names) I can't imagine thinking up unusual names for my kids. She stated some of the things parents chose to name their kids, like where they were conceived. That made me laugh.  The only odd name I can think of right now is for my 2nd child who was conceived in Florida. Don't think she'd like that name. The rest of them were all conceived in the same place - Cleveland (in my bedroom, if anyone cares, and I don't think they'd like to be called Bed, either LOL)
I guess I'm just not very original. I did spell Angella's name unusual though (she hated it for a while) and Patricia's nickname (Patti) I insisted on the i instead of y, not sure why. The rest are just normal, every day name. Kimberly (Kim), Brian, Timothy (Tim), and Daniel (Dan or Danny).  Guess I wasn't very creative back then. But, then I'm not today either. My characters all have normal, every day names.
My mother origianlly spelled my name Rozann on my hospital and birth certificate. Apparently, the priest didn't like it, and I was christened Roseanne and went through all of school and my life like that, until I went to get my birth certificate about 12 years ago.
Imagine my surprise when I discovered how my name was really spelled. Everything legal I had up to that point - SS card, Driver's License etc. had Roseanne on it.
Back then you were allowed to use your baptismal certificate to get these things. I had no choice but to legally change it, which took all of about five minutes.
 I guess that's not as bad as finding out I didn't have a name at all, like my sister did. There she was ready to retire and needed her birth certificate. Can you picture her surprise when it showed her name as Baby Girl.
Yep, for real. My parents apparently couldn't come up with, or agree, on a name before they left the hospital and neglected to legally name her. She also used her baptismal certificate for all her legal documents.
So, what's in a name?

Sun Cover Contest

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To Plot or Not

Check out My Views on a Controversial Topic - To Plot or Not


 http://sweetnotspicy.blogspot.com, 

Welcome, Marion Webb-De Sisto

1: Thank you so much for being here, Marion Webb-De Sisto.


First up is the obligatory question. When did you first begin writing?

From my early teenage years I always wanted to write, but usually created stories in my head rather than on paper. As an adult, and then a wife and mother, I put away any thoughts of writing. When my children were school age, I resumed my career life, part time at first, then full time, and although my desire to write had returned, I was much too busy to pursue it. I promised myself I would definitely write when I retired. In 1999 I took early retirement due to illness and there was finally time to fulfill a life-long dream. My first book was published in 2000 and I’ve not stopped since then. To date I’ve written 5 Non-Fiction books, 3 Adventure/Romance novels, a Fantasy novella for an anthology and a Fantasy novel. The latter is due to be published by MuseItUp Publishing in September of this year.



2: What inspired you to write?



I’ve always loved the written word and, even as a young child, my head was frequently buried in a book. I think my inspiration has come from that love of reading. I hope to give readers as much pleasure and interest as I’ve found in books.



3: What do you like the most and least about writing?



What I like least is when I have to put aside my writing in order to do other things. Everyday matters frequently encroach upon my written work, but I don’t procrastinate, I get them done so that I can return to whatever story I’m telling.



It’s difficult to decide on what I like most. Probably getting right inside the storyline, observing what the characters do and say. They always seem to be telling me their story rather than me being the puppeteer.



4: What do you for fun and relaxation when not writing?



I enjoy watching movies and I’m a passionate gardener. I also like to knit and bake. When the hours on my laptop aren’t taken up by writing, I’m surfing the Net for subjects that interest me.



5: Which authors do you like to read?



I’ve always enjoyed Stephen King, Ray Bradbury, Dennis Wheatley, Georgette Heyer and Anne Rice. As a teenager, my most favorite book was The Scarlet Pimpernel by Baroness Orczy. During my school years, I also enjoyed the classics.



6: What’s the one thing you’d most like people to know about you?



I’m open-minded and try not to make hasty decisions about people or matters. Also, life has taught me there will always be compensation for the losses and difficulties that we experience.



7: Tell me about your current novel, where I can find it and your website/blog.



The title is Taken for which I’ve recently signed a contract with MuseItUp Publishing. It details how the heroine is abducted, taken to the world of Cymllon, and then eventually rescued by the hero, a demgel. He’s half demon, half angel. They spend some time together during which she learns a hidden truth about herself. The storyline explores how two very different individuals eventually realize how important they are to each other.



My most current published story is the novella Malpas. It’s featured in the anthology Writers on the Wrong Side of the Road. The book is strictly for adults and covers various genres, including horror, erotica, a post-apocalyptic tale and even a space opera. This was my first attempt at writing an erotic story and was pinpointed as the personal favorite of one reviewer. She referred to it as an erotic beauty and the beast.



Further information on all of my books can be found at my website: http://www.marionwebb-desisto.com

Readers might also enjoy my blog: http://marionwebb-desisto.blogspot.com/



8: Do you have any tips for aspiring authors?



When an author writes in the Fantasy genre, s/he can allow imagination to run wild, nothing may seem to be too impossible or unbelievable. In my opinion, however, I believe s/he should make sure the special abilities, powers, or attitudes the main characters have are completely relevant to the storyline. Don’t give them extra skills and standpoints that are merely trimmings to their fantasy personalities. Make them be a necessary part of the story, a vital component that would enhance the plot, or seriously damage it, if omitted. In this way, the characters become more believable even though they may be purely imaginary.



9: Do you base your characters on real-life people?



I don’t intentionally do this. However, when thinking about how a character will react to a situation, I do recall how I’ve seen certain people behave. Then I decide whether or not such behavior is appropriate for the character in question.



10: Where do you get your ideas and what inspired you to write this book?



I guess the answer is my crazy imagination. Also, for a number of years I’ve been interested in angels, demons and mythical creatures. Why do we have so many stories about how they have interacted with humans? Are they completely fictitious or based on some long lost truth?



In one of my previous novels I introduced a world, named Cymllon, that in many ways is similar to Earth, but whereas we’ve pursued technology, the inhabitants of that world concentrate on magic. I wanted to elaborate on this world so I’ve set my most recent novel and the one I’m presently writing in it.



11: What are you currently working on?



As mentioned above, the story is set in Cymllon. The heroine is a humangel, meaning she’s part human and part angel. The hero is a fallen warrior angel. They are both banishers, sending whoever belongs in Abbadon/Hell to that place, but they are not serving the same purpose. In the beginning, they’re at odds, yet an attraction builds between them and they eventually have to re-evaluate their feelings about each other.



12. Is there anything else you’d like us to know about you?



My Non-Fiction books explore metaphysical subjects. If you’re interested in crystals, crystal skulls, the Bach Flower Remedies, or the spirit world you might find them helpful.

Excerpt from Taken:

{Please Note – This story has not, as yet, undergone MuseItUp editing}

Now, it was time to address the staring, but first it was her turn to gaze at him. Looking at his chest, she was surprised to see the wounds were already closing and didn’t look inflamed. Then she stared directly at his face and realized his eye color was actually black, not dark brown. It was impossible to know where his pupils ended and his irises began. His nose was straight and not overly big and his mouth wasn’t as large as Zortek’s, but had the same thin lips. This demgel’s hair was not as long as her angel date’s and it was black and wavy. Esther decided he was definitely better-looking than Zortek, as long as she could ignore the pointed ears, scales and horns.

“Do you have a name?”

“My name is Dreydon.”

Esther thought that was as weird as the name Zortek.

“Well, Dreydon, don’t you know it’s rude to stare?”

His gaze didn’t falter; his dark eyes continued their intent looking.

“Is staring something demgels do? Zortek kept doing it, too, on our date.”

“What do you mean? Isn’t a date a day on your calendar?”

“Yes, but it also means when you’re out with someone, like having a meal or going to the movies.”

“I don’t understand. Humans do strange things.”

“Oh, we do strange things, but demgels don’t? How about being unfamiliar with cutlery, having no manners and sniffing someone? And, of course, there’s the staring.”

“I stare because you are very beautiful.”

She hadn’t expected flattery. Score one for Dreydon. “Don’t think you can side-track me with a compliment. I want you to stop staring at me. It makes me feel nervous and very uncomfortable.”

Finally, he looked away for a moment and said, “That is not my intention.” Now, he looked upset and Esther felt a tinge of guilt. She’d spoken to him like he was a naughty child and he’d given her food and water, which was so much more than Zortek had done. Trying to change the subject, she asked:

“How do you know English? You spoke to Zortek and your wolf in a different language so I’m guessing that one is yours.”

“I’ve been to your world and can speak several of its languages. Once someone talks to me in their language, I then know it. You said in English you wanted no more killing and I understood you.”

“Knowing a language instantly is amazing.” Wanting to confirm something, she then added, “You were going to kill him, right?”

“Yes, if I didn’t kill him, he would kill me. I let him live because you looked so distraught.”

“That’s because a while before you stopped us another demgel challenged Zortek and he quickly killed him. Do you think that one wanted to take me to his home?”

“No, he would have taken you to his mejin.”

Remembering the violent attack, Esther informed, “Zortek ripped his throat out and his blood was everywhere. It was horrible.” She shuddered.

“That is one way demgels kill. We can also strike an opponent with fire from our eyes and that burns them.”

This conversation was becoming alarming. In almost panic, she speculated whether Dreydon would kill her with fire when she tried to escape. That thought rekindled Esther’s fear of him. Trying to reassure herself, she decided this whole experience was nothing more than a long drawn out nightmare, and she might as well join in the craziness. “So demgels think nothing of killing?”

“When it is necessary, we do it. Humans kill, don’t they?”

“Yes, but...” She really couldn’t argue with the point he was making. Moving on from this troubling subject, she asked, “Anyway, what is a demgel? You look like something out of a Fantasy story.”

“A demgel is half demon, half angel.”

Ok, more crazy stuff. Yes, it must be a nightmare. “Angels and demons don’t really exist so how can you be a combination of both?”

“They do exist in other dimensions and levels of existence. Both angels and demons are here in Cymllon. How else could the first demgels be born?”

Coming Soon!

from Books We Love Ltd.  Shadows in the Attic

Imagine renovating your Victorian home and discovering a hidden room, complete with furniture, a trunk full of of treasures and shadows hovering over it. That's exactly what happened to Anna Hughes.

Excerpt: 

I hurried to my room, freshened my lipstick and ran a comb through my hair. I loved my new short hairstyle, even if Ben didn’t like it. It didn’t take hours blow drying and styling even after a shower. Chad Andrews, the contractor Connie recommended, would be here any minute. I liked the sound of his voice over the phone, all deep and masculine. Besides, he sounded as excited about the restoration as I was.

I hurried downstairs when the doorbell rang, opened the door, and my mouth darn near dropped open. The sexiest, hunk of a man I ever saw stood in front of me. His dark hair, mussed from the wind, fell over his forehead. Bushy eyebrows topped the bluest eyes I’d ever seen. He towered over my five foot six height. A complete contrast to Ben’s dark brooding looks.

Something jolted inside me, and I swear electricity seared the air between us. Even my arms tingled. Never had a man affected me this way.  What was wrong with me? I’m engaged for heavens sake. But I couldn’t help it. Chad Andrews stirred something inside of me. Something Ben never stirred.

“Hi, I’m Chad Andrews. Are you Anna Hughes?”

Heat burned my face at my thoughts, and I held out my hand toward him, hoping it wasn’t too red. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Andrews.”

“Chad, please. Nice to meet you too, Anna. You don’t mind if I call you Anna do you?”

He took my hand, and my heart did a strange flip. A trembling all the way down to my toes scared me. I liked the feel of his rough hand, calloused from hard work, and was disappointed when he let mine go.

“Hi, Chad. No I don’t mind.” His name flowed easy from my lips, like I’d been saying it forever. And I especially liked the way he said my name, placing the emphasis on the first syllable – Ann-a, unlike the quick way Ben said it, more like On-na, with the emphasis on the last syllable. Kind of hoity-toity.

Chad’s smile reached his eyes. Something about it made me think he was fun-loving, spontaneous and adventurous, unlike serious minded Ben. Not that there was anything wrong with Ben being serious. I just wished sometimes he’d let go a little. Darn it, why was I comparing Chad to Ben?

“Please, come in.” I swung the door to let him in, and closed it behind him. He stood in the foyer and looked around, letting out a low whistle as he stared up the curved staircase. A picture of him, standing there years ago, waiting for the daughter of the house to join him, flitted through my mind. He seemed to fit.

I smiled at the image. “I’ve heard good things about you, Chad. I’m glad you agreed to look at this job.”

“I couldn’t resist. When I heard it was a Queen Anne style Vicky, well let’s just say that’s my weakness.”

“Mine too. When this house came on the market I had to see it. Once I saw it, I was sold.” I led the way to the attic. “Come on, I can’t wait to get your opinion.”

I turned the corner to the landing and looked back at him. Darn, he was good looking. “This is the first room I want done. We’ll look at the rest of the house later.”

As we rounded the corner of the attic, Ben joined us. “We want this wall knocked down for starters. Anna thinks there’s a room behind it. At least there’s a leaded glass window that shows from the outside of the house,” he said.

Ben’s tone irritated me. Okay, so he didn’t agree with me about the renovations, that didn’t give him the right to intrude on my conversation.

Chad knocked on the wall in several different places and looked at the space between the walls and took some measurements. “She could well be right,” he said. “This room should be much larger.” He turned his attention to me. “What exactly do you want?” 

“I want to make a home office up here for my writing.”

“You’re a writer?”

Ben didn’t give me a chance to answer. He came and stood next to me and put his arm around me possessively. I tried to shrug him off. This wasn’t like Ben. He never touched me in public. Never even held my hand.

“So what will you charge to knock the wall down and finish this space? I mean is it even worth it?” Ben pulled me tighter against him and almost knocked me over.

“Just to knock the wall down and haul the material away, fifteen hundred dollars. It depends what else Ms Hughes wants as to the rest of it.” Chad turned his attention back to me again.

“I can’t give you a price on that until the wall is gone, and we see what’s behind it. I’ll need to know exactly what you want, wiring, lights, that kind of thing. You can knock the wall down yourself and save the money. There’s no wiring or heating ducts to worry about.”

“Okay, we’ll be in touch,” Ben said. “Thank you for coming. He guided me to the top of the stairway and waited for Chad to go ahead of us. I tried to pull away, but Ben held me tight against him.

“Anything else?” Chad turned to me again.

“We’ll talk about it and get back to you,” Ben said, not giving me a chance to answer.

I bit my tongue. Oh we were going to talk about it. No doubt about that. I’d say something now, but didn’t want to start anything in front of Chad. What made Ben think he could take over like that? Like I was a moron who couldn’t think or talk for myself.

“Okay, then.” Chad turned and went downstairs ahead of us.

Ben finally dropped his arm from around me and followed Chad to the door before I made it to the bottom step. “We’ll be in touch,” he said and almost pushed Chad out the door.

After Chad left, Ben looked at me. “I think we should knock the wall down ourselves. Then you can see what’s behind it and not waste the money.”

“You’re willing to help knock down the wall?” Would wonders never cease? I couldn’t believe my ears. I let the matter of Ben’s rudeness drop. If Ben was willing to work on the attic, I wasn’t about to start an argument. Not yet anyway. But you can bet I wouldn’t forget it, either. He’d hear about it eventually. I’d have my say. Oh no, he wasn’t getting off that easy.

“Sure, we can start tomorrow. Once you see there’s no room up there, you can forget this nonsense of renovation.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but thought better of it. Ben was willing to help, and I was taking advantage of that. Fifteen hundred dollars was a lot of money. “Okay, we’ll start tomorrow.”

***

Whack! I swung the hammer, and the hole in the attic wall widened. Even through the plaster dust, I swore I smelled flowers. Roses and something else, Lily of the Valley - that was it. One more whack and a section of the wall collapsed.

“Ben, look!”  I stepped through the opening and stared into the room. A dusty, women’s antique French desk stood in the center of the large room. The wall behind it held book shelves still lined with books.  Two chairs grouped around a table that held a tarnished silver tea set in front of the window.

I spun around the room. “My God, what is this?” Pictures hung on faded rose wallpaper. Dim light, from the dirty stain-glass window in the alcove, cast eerie shadows. “This is unbelievable.”

Shadowy figures in the corner of the room beckoned to me. At first I thought my eyes were playing tricks. Between the dust and the dim light, but no, the shadows were there, plain as day. They hovered over a carved trunk.

“Ben, do you see that?”

“See what?” Ben brushed the dust off his hands.

I held back a giggle. I couldn’t help it, he looked so uncomfortable. This wasn’t Ben’s cup of tea. Why he offered to help was beyond me. He stepped through the opening and looked at me.

“Shadows over that trunk.” I held back, dying to know what was in it, but half afraid to go near it.

“Probably cobwebs.”

I sighed. The look on Ben’s face said it all. “Cobwebs, right.”

“There you go again. You and that overactive imagination. I suppose now you’re going to go ahead with the renovation.” He took a couple steps into the room, stopped next to the desk and opened a drawer. “Hm, Look at this.” He pulled a sheet of stationary out of the drawer. “Mary Elizabeth Gilbert, wonder who she was.”

I took the stationary from him. A bouquet of lily of the valley embossed the top of the page. Again the shadows appeared and beckoned to me.  “Those aren’t cobwebs, Ben. Look.”

 I shook my head. Like I didn’t know the difference between shadows and cobwebs. Definitely shadows. Willowy figures hovered over the trunk. Come open it, they seemed to say. There was a sense of urgency about them, yet I didn’t feel threatened.

Giving in to the urge, I hurried to the trunk and lifted the decorative lid.  “Oh, look at this!” I lifted a pearl handled hairbrush out of the trunk. “It’s beautiful.” A shadowy figure floated above it. Then I lifted out a corset and held the tiny form in front of me. One of the shadowy figures moved closer, almost on top of me.

“Ugh, I can’t imagine having to wear one of these.” Suddenly, my stomach and chest tightened. I lost my breath, gasped and sunk to my knees. The corset fell from my hand. The shadows backed off. I was finally able to take a deep breath, and let it out slowly.

When I opened my eyes, Ben stood over me. “Are you okay? What happened? You looked like you were going to pass out.”

“I...I don’t know. I couldn’t breathe. It felt like someone was squeezing the life out of me.” I looked at the corset lying on the dusty floor. What just happened here? A shadowy figure lingered nearby.  What was it trying to tell me?

“I think we better get out of this dust for a while, get some fresh air.” Ben helped me to my feet. “You can come up later. I know how anxious you are to go through that trunk. There’s no stopping you now, is there?”

I hated to leave, but Ben was right. I had inhaled an awful lot of dust. “Ben do you smell flowers -roses or lily of the valley?”

“All I smell is plaster and years of dust. Roses, are you sure you’re okay?” He furrowed his brow and gave me one of those disapproving looks that said I was nuts. I hated that look.

“I’m fine, just a little woozy. You’re right, probably from all the dust.” So Ben hadn’t seen the shadows, and he didn’t smell the flowers, so what. I looked back through the opening, and they were there, big as life. I sighed and reluctantly followed Ben downstairs.

After a quick lunch and something to drink, I stood, anxious to go back up to what I now called my treasure trove. I love old things. That’s why I bought this old Victorian house. Sure, it was a fixer-upper, but that was part of the charm and fun.

 I needed a quiet place to write. Someplace I could retreat while work was being done on the rest of the house, and the attic fit the bill. Besides, I needed a place of my own, away from Ben. 

Ben had noticed the stained glass window from the outside a couple weeks ago. I hadn’t noticed it when I bought the house. I’m sure Ben was sorry he mentioned it to me. But I was still planning on renovating the attic. The window was the only reason I managed to talk Ben into tearing down the wall. Not that he believed me. He thought someone just covered over the window from the inside. He only went along because he thought it would prove me wrong. Ben liked to do that. But I knew I was right this time, and I took great satisfaction in proving him wrong for a change.

I had been drawn to the attic ever since I first saw it, even without knowing about the window. And I wanted to help with the renovation, but it didn’t take a brain surgeon to know there was a lot I couldn’t do. Electrical work for one and the whole house needed rewired. Thank goodness, I found Chad. Hopefully, he was still interested in doing the work, and Ben’s rudeness hadn’t turned him off.

Downstairs, Ben dusted off his clothes. “I hope you’re going to hire someone to finish this. You know I’m not cut out for this kind of work.”

I sighed. Luckily, Ben had helped this much. “You know I’m going to hire Chad, if he’s still willing to do the work, that is. You were awfully rude to him.”

“I think you should find someone else. I don’t like that guy.”

“He comes highly recommended. Connie says he’s tops in his field.” Of course Ben was going to give me a hard time about Chad. His dislike was evident right from the beginning, and he didn’t do a thing to hide it. “Besides, I liked him. He didn’t have to suggest we knock down the wall. He could have charged me for it. I think he’s honest.”

“I don’t like this, Anna. This whole renovation thing is crazy.”

“Come on, Ben. Just help me finish knocking down that wall. There’s not much more to do. I’ll call the contractor later.”

I didn’t like the way Ben looked at me. Like he was sorry he offered. He hated dirt. Besides the fact that he was sweating and the plaster dust mixed with the sweat probably made him feel gritty. He was going to back out and leave me to finish the job. I wasn’t sure I could handle it. “Please, I really need your help.” Begging usually worked with Ben. He loved to hear me beg.

“Oh, what the heck.” He shrugged. ”You’re right there isn’t much more to knock down. Guess that’s the least I can do. Besides I’m already dirty. Once we get that wall knocked down, I can take a shower and call it quits.  Okay, I’ll help with the rest of the wall, but that’s it.”

I smiled and kissed him. “Thank you.” How Ben was going to survive coming here with all the renovation going on, I didn’t know. Even as a kid, he said he hated getting dirty. While the neighborhood kids played in the dirt, he sat in the air conditioned house, reading. I could picture him. Serious-minded Ben didn’t like things other boys enjoyed, like sports. He still didn’t.

 But he followed me up the steps. “Let’s get this done.”

Back upstairs, we knocked down the rest of the dividing wall. All the while, I watched the shadows move back and forth between me and the trunk. What was in there? I couldn’t wait to find out, but I continued to help Ben. He’d have a fit if I quit.

“Why do you suppose someone sealed up this room?” I tried to ignore the shadows flitting in and out of my vision. They definitely wanted me to follow them.

“I have no idea.” Ben knocked down the last of the dividing wall. “There, we’re done. Now let your contractors finish the job.” He brushed off his hands. “Why I offered to help you is beyond me. Can I leave now?”

I laughed. I couldn’t help it, he looked so pathetic. Pathetic and so dirty. I appreciated the fact he helped me. Really I did. Ben didn’t particularly like the old Victorian and couldn’t understand why I insisted on buying it. Oh well he’d get used to it. He’d have to if we were going to get married. This was my home, and I was in it for the long haul.

 “Maybe someone was hiding a past.” I ignored Ben’s question. Seldom did he ask permission for anything and staying dirty a few more minutes wouldn’t hurt him.

“It’s like someone walked out of this room and built the wall. They left everything just as it was.” Again the shadows appeared and disappeared. Maybe they held the key. I was dying to dive into that trunk.

With the last of the wall down, I began the clean up. Ben stood by while I put chunks of plaster and pieces of lathe into an old box. I could see all Ben wanted to do was jump into a shower.

Finally, Ben apparently couldn’t stand it anymore. “I’m heading for the shower.” He turned and hurried down the steps before I could answer. Not that I cared. Right now I was better off without him. I barely glanced at him. “Go ahead. I can clean up.”

To Plot or Not - or Overcoming Writer's Block

Check out my blog today, 

To Plot or Not, Overcoming Writer's Block

at

Inside Books We Love

http://bwlauthors.blogspot.com/2012/03/to-plot-or-not-or-overcoming-writers.html?spref=fb 

  Books We Love Ltd.  offers free reads and fabulous contests! All of their books are priced at $2.99 or less. Find out more about our authors, titles, and staff here. We hope you enjoy this view from the inside.

Time to Love Again

Rose Asbury is my sister – was my sister.  After I passed away she became a recluse. Not that she doesn’t have reason to, mind you. We lost our parents within months of each other and Rose and I clung to each for support during our grief. Of course our husbands helped, but Rose and I understood each other.

We were just adjusting when Rose’s husband passed away suddenly. Poor Rose fell apart, not that I blame her. I would have reacted the same way if it had been my husband.  I was just getting Rose to come out of her shell when bam, I was gone.

That did Rose in. She went to pieces and to make matters worse, her kids moved three thousand miles away. She ignored all of her friends, except for Louise. Louise wasn’t about to let Rose ignore her. But everyone else gave up. Heck, you can only call people so long and have them ignore you, not return your calls and won’t talk to you before you give up. So that’s what everyone did. Louise didn’t give up. She marched right over to Rose’s house and read her the riot act until Rose gave in and at least went to the store.

At least now Rose visited Louise and came to grips with life. Not that she had much of a life. Stephen Daniels the guy next aimed to change that – or so it seemed. Good looking guy, too. Anyway he moved in to take care of his granddaughter while her parents did their tour of duty in the Mideast. He kind of took a shine to Rose.. Rose wouldn’t give the poor guy the time of day. Most she did was nod at him.

Well, that’s all she did until that day. I can’t help but giggle thinking about it. She fell on the ice and splat, groceries went flying everywhere. Stephen came to her aid – or tried to. Rose true to form tried to ignore him. That’s where I come in again. I showed up to talk some sense into Rose. Of course, she tried to ignore me, too, but I wasn’t about to let that happen. It was time Rose started to live again. She was much too young to waste her life away.

Now it seems his granddaughter, Sarah, saw the whole thing and had other ideas. She didn’t care for the way the old lady ignored her grandpa. Yeah, all kids think anyone in their 40s is old. What can I say, we thought the same things.

But I digress. Sarah devised a plan to get Rose to talk to her grandpa. She talked  her friends into building a snowman in Rose’s front yard. You’d think that wasn’t a big deal right? I mean what harm could a snowman do?

Of course, Rose, being the neighborhood grouch –at least that’s what the kids pegged her as – had a fit.

After that things got real interesting. If you’d like to find out more about Rose, you’ll have to buy the book available from Amazon at http://amzn.to/timetoloveagain

To learn more about me and my books check out my website at www.roseannedowell.com.

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