Happy New Year

Another year has come and gone. The older I get the quicker they fly by. Lately, I've become more melancholy and reflect more and more on past Christmases and New Years.
Well, mostly Christmases. New Years was always fun, but Christmas, let's just say Christmas was special. It was a time spent with family, full of laughter and fun.
I think back to Christmases from my childhood. We always spent Christmas Eve at our house. Mom made a traditional Christmas Eve dinner and my uncle, aunt, and their four kids came over to share it with us. After dinner, everyone piled into their cars and we headed for Grandma's house.
Eventually, we kids grew up and the Christmas Eve dinners with my aunt and uncle stopped. With six kids in our family, it wasn't long before we filled the table on our own. I tried to remember when we actually quit the dinners, but we never quit going to my grandparents - well, not until they passed away that is
Christmas Day, after all the gifts were opened, found us at my uncle's for dinner.  They did it that way because my aunt didn't know how to make the traditional Christmas Eve dinner. Thanksgiving they alternated between our house and theirs.
Funny, we had many other aunts and uncles, but for some reason my mom's brother was always the one we shared dinners with. They were very close. Partners in crime some would say.
Ah those years were so much fun. I have many fond memories, not of gifts received, but of the good times. The years my uncle played Santa - long after many of believed.
Then there were the Christmases shared with my brothers and sisters - We always celebrated Christmas Eve. In the beginning my mom made the traditional meal for all of us, but as our families grew that ended. There were 14 adults, counting my parents and our spouses, and eventually 24 grandchildren. A bit much to make a meal for. As my parents aged, we kids decided to take turns having Christmas Eve at our houses. Oh what fun when we all got together. Kids and adults in the kitchen, dining or living room. Sometimes the kids went off to the bedrooms, or basements. Anyplace we could find room.
Of course, our kids grew up, married, and had kids of their own, with their own places to visit. My brothers, sister and I (a brother and sister have since passed along with my parents) still get together Christmas Eve. This year, there were only 3 of us as one brother went to Florida for the winter. We missed him, but understand. Some of our children join us as their spouses's parents have passed on also. This year there were actually 20 of us at my house. It's fun to celebrate the holiday with everyone.
As far as New Year's Eve , we never did much through the years. Sometimes we got together with my siblings and went out, other times with friends, more recently at one of my children's homes. New Years Day has always been a quiet day. One spent at home. Everyone always had to work the next day and after staying up and celebrating the night before, no one wanted to do much. Besides, the parade and all those football games were on TV.
So, as I look back over the years, it brings fond memories. This past year has been good to us in many ways. We camped - although not as much as I wanted to - and we bought  a house, which I love. So I look forward to the year ahead and wish all of you a very Happy, healthy, wealthy, and successful new year.

Check out  Books We Love to see where to purchase them from your favorite online retailer. 

Welcome, Karla Stover

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

1: Thank you so much for being here Karla Stover, 

I see kids I went to school with from grade school on, and they say I was always writing. I do have some of my high school diaries, which are pretty funny reading.

2: Seems to be the standard answer for us authors. What or Who inspired you to write?

Anne (of Green Gables) Shirley, Jo (Little Women) March, and Betsy (Betsy-Tacy books) Ray. When I was lonesome, I read and reread these books and wanted to be just like the heroines.

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

A while back, my husband and I went to Great Britain with my parents and one of the things we did was visit family in York. My mother just passed away and working on my historical novel, Wynters Way which takes place in York makes me feel close to her. What I don’t like is not having fellow writers to talk with.

4: I'm sorry about your mother.  Can you join a writing group to meet fellow authors?  Tell us what do you for fun and relaxation when not writing?

My husband and I walk our dog every morning, have coffee with friends, and garden. I am president of my garden club. This year’s drought, however, has fried my yard,

5: Sounds like an interesting life. Which authors do you like to read?

Alexander McCall Smith, C.S. Harris—she does an amazing job of creating Regency England and, since my husband and I recently visited Alaska, memoirs of the Gold Rush.

6: Tell us  one thing you’d most like people to know about you?

I’m a fun person. People think I’m super intelligent and I’m not. I just remember peculiar things. Actually it’s my gay friends who are the least intimidated.

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

I am working on two books: I mentioned Wynters Way which Books We Love is publishing in late December. I already have the cover and it’s really evocative—all grays and gloomy. I am also working on a second non-fiction book of Tacoma, Washington (where I live) history. I can’t blog and keep up  website so I am at blogspot.

8: Sounds interesting. Do you have any tips for aspiring authors?

Find a good critique group. It will keep you to deadlines and point out mistakes. Just don’t be thin skinned.

9: Definitely can't be thin skinned with a critique group. Do you base your characters on real-life people?

I don’t know where they come from; they’ve never told me.

10: Great answer. LOL Where do you get your ideas?

Usually from something I’ve read. For example, in Murder, When One Isn’t Enough, the idea came fromMadame of the House, an autobiography written by a famous San Francico madame, and things she wrote about Errol Flynn.

11: What’s one thing no one knows about you?

I prefer small parties to big ones.

12. What’s your favorite book?

Anybody Can do Anything, Betty McDonald’s memoir about being a single mom in Seattle during the Depression. Seattle hasn’t done right by her, as far as I’m concerned—too focused on Kurt Cobain L The book should be a must-read for teenagers.

The City of Destiny took shape where rails met sails on the shores of Commencement Bay. When Tacoma was chosen as the Northern Pacific Railroad's terminus, the city rose from the mudflats and took the lead as the Northwest's destination for opportunity. In this collection, discover the city's early notables and uncover the stories behind the historic landmarks. Why did city planners abandon Olmsted's vision? How many war bonds did Lana Turner's kisses buy? Why were vegetarians warned "Don t drink the water"? Who is the tiny figure with coal black hair and bound feet who haunts Old Tacoma? Local author and guide Karla Stover answers these questions and more as she spins stories from the tomes of Tacoma's past.
Available from Amazon

Welcome, Author, Jamie Hill

Today, I'm interviewing my friend and fellow author, Jamie Hill.

1: Thank you so much for being here, Jamie.

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

Like many writers, when I was a kid. At age ten I wrote in spiral notebooks, and when I didn’t have one I used wide-rule notebook paper bound with crocheted yarn chains. Those first few stories were bad, really bad, but to me they showed I had heart and desire to put pen to paper. I threw them away at one point in my life and I do regret that, although it’s probably for the best. If they were to become public, oh my!

2: I love the idea of a notebook held together with croceted yarn chains. Never would have thought of that. So tell us, Jamie What or Who inspired you to write?

Reading Danielle Steel made me stop and think, “I could do that.” Please understand, I’m not putting myself on her level, I’m just saying that her books inspired me to push myself to see what I could do. There’s an old expression that anyone can write one book, but writing a second displays a person’s intentions to actually be a writer.

3: She's one of my favorite writers. So what do you like the most and least about writing?

The thing I enjoy most is starting a book. Figuring out the names, character traits, habits, car makes, jobs, etc. It’s a lot of work that requires much deliberation before any writing can actually be done.

The thing I like least about writing…see paragraph above! Sometimes the initial plotting is just exhausting!

4: Ah, you're a plotter, not a panster. So, then tell us, what do you for fun and relaxation when not writing?

I try to walk several times a week to counteract sitting in front of the computer so much each day. I wish I was more diligent about it. For fun and relaxation I binge watch Netflix shows, which has the added benefit of stimulating my creative writing juices. Current favorites which I’ve seen all of are Blue Bloods, Graceland, Frankie and Grace and Cedar Cove. I want to watch Orange is the New Black, House of Cards, Sons of Anarchy, and many more.

5: I need to start walking. Which authors do you like to read?

My association with Books We Love has introduced me to many wonderful authors, including my hostess Roseanne Dowell. I especially love romantic suspense and really enjoyed her novels Shadows in the Attic and Ring Around the Rosy. I also enjoy reading Ginger Simpson, Gail Roughton, Jude Pittman, Kelly Janicello, Janet Lane Walters and Geeta Kakade. I know I’m leaving some out and I apologize. Find them all at bookswelove.com!

6: I'm blushing, thank you so much for your kind words. Tell us one thing you’d most like people to know about you?

That I always try to do the right thing. Life is hard sometimes, and it’s easy to get drawn into the petty stuff. I try to keep my head above all that, not sweat the small stuff, and just try to do what’s right.

7: Sometimes difficult to do. Tell us about your current novel, where we can find it and your website/blog.

My most recent work is my series, Witness Security. Pieces of the Past and Time To Kill are available now. Cover of Darkness will be available later this fall. My website is http://www.jamiehill.biz/ but I’ve been struggling with Google saying I have malware(though I’ve been assured I don’t) so lately I’m directing readers to: http://authorjamiehill.blogspot.com/

8: Sometimes the internet is more trouble than it's worth. Okay, not really. Do you have any tips for aspiring authors?

Just do it. People tell me all the time how they want to/plan to/wish they could write a book. Just do it. It may not be a masterpiece, but even the best editor can’t do much with a blank piece of paper.

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

No, that would be creepy. I don’t even really like to use the names of people I know for main characters. I do like to stick my co-workers names in bit parts, that’s fun.

10: I bet it is fun. So where do you get your ideas?

Music inspires me, as do photos I see online. I’d have to say music lyrics, mainly.

11: That's interesting. I've had a couple songs inspire me also. Okay, so tell us what’s one thing no one knows about you?

If I told you, I’d never be able to answer this question again, now, would I?

My love for chocolate and George Clooney are fairly well known. Let’s just leave it at that.

12.LOL, okay, we won't push it. Tell us who your favorite author is and what’s your favorite book?

Not sure I could ever choose just one. While I love to read spicy romance and romantic suspense, two of my ‘off-the-top-of-my-head’ all time faves would be the Harry Potter series by J.K. Rowling and Holes by Louis Sachar. Go figure.

Thanks for hosting me today, Roseanne!

It was my pleasure, Jamie.

Excerpt from Time to Kill by Jamie Hill. Book 2 in the

Witness Security Series.

A couple of hours later, after Jordan had eaten the donut that Olivia brought her anyway, she glanced up to see their chief escorting a man into the office. Something familiar about him, she swiveled her chair to get a better look. Tall and slender, with spiky light brown hair, he sported a familiar, sexy little cleft in the middle of his chin.

She panicked. Rhodes wouldn’t have. He couldn’t have. No. He. Did. Not.

Pushing away from her desk, she hurried to the break room before either of them spotted her. With her back against the wall, she fumbled in her pocket for her phone and texted Doug.

He’s here. OMG!

Realizing she was being cryptic, she added,

Pierce. Then, Nick Pierce is here.

She waited. And waited. Damn it! Doug always had his phone on him. Unless he was sleeping. Maybe the baby was keeping them up at night. Damn it!

Ben entered the room and refilled his coffee cup.

“Ben! I need you to run interference for me. Go out there and distract Rhodes and that other man. I just need to grab my purse and get out of here.”

He looked at her like she was insane. “What are you talking about? I’ve got a meeting in ten minutes.” With an apologetic shrug, he walked out.

Her phone vibrated and she glanced at the screen. Doug had texted her back.

No freaking way! Wish I was there to run interference for you.

Jordan thought she might cry.

Me too, she typed back. I don’t know what to do.

He replied, I have a few thoughts, but can’t put them in writing. Might be used against me in a trial.

 She smiled and typed, No shit. A moment of hesitation, then she added, I’m scared.

His reply was instantaneous. Want me to come in? Go hide somewhere and I’ll be there as soon as I can.

Jordan brushed a tear from her cheek. Love you for saying that, but no thanks. Not going to hide. She inhaled deeply to bolster herself, then blew out the breath. Thank you. Go kiss that baby. Talk soon. She pocketed her phone.

A mirror hung on the opposite wall and she moved in front of it to check her makeup. Nothing had smeared, thankfully. Before she could decide what to do next, a voice from the past sounded behind her.

“Beautiful as ever, Jo.”

So Much for Good Intentions

With the weather forecast predicting colder weather starting tomorrow - January cold from what they're saying, I thought I'd take advantage of today's beautiful weather and put my outside decorations up.

So I gathered everything together, making several trips from the basement. First order of business was putting the lights in the bushes. Easy peasy.

Next came setting up the angel and the trees. The angel is also

easy, just had to put some stakes in the ground to hold her in place securely. With the lamp post staked and weighted down, I moved on to the trees. 

 The trees took a bit more work because they were in sections. Once they were securely in the ground, I placed Santa on the swing and secured him to the seat and staked him to the ground so the swing wouldn't blow too much in the wind. Could have Santa blowing away. 

I ran the extensions cords, plugged everything into the proper places and, tada drum roll.. the moment of truth I plugged everything into the outlet.

The lights in the bushes looked great, the lamp post looked  awesome, as did the small tree. The large tree, however, was only half lit and the angel and Santa....well I'm sorry to say, the angel is dark and Santa, well no other word for it, Santa is dead. I'm going to look for lights to restring the angel, the large tree will remain half lit this year. And Santa...well I'm going to miss the old boy.

Finally, a break in the weather

A break from the rainy, cold weather we've been experiencing. The weekend promises warmer temperatures and sunshine. And the week ahead looks amazing. It's been a long cold winter, and a rainy, chilly spring.
I know in a few weeks, I'll probably be complaining about the heat and humidity. It seems the older I get, the less tolerant I am of the heat. Usually, I don't mind the cold, snowy winters, but this year has been extreme. Brutal cold temperatures throughout January left everyone begging for spring. I can handle cold. Heck, just put on more clothes, right? But not this winter.
I've always been one to crank up the air conditioning in the summer time. My sister always brings a sweater when she comes to visit. That's fine, better she bring a sweater than me taking something off. After all there's only so much you can remove, but you can always add more.
This year we decided to try camping. My son bought a new camper and we bought his old one from him. I mean old - 1979. Granted, it needs some work, but it's dry and better than a tent any day. Years ago we tent camped. Yep, did it for a lot of years and with six kids. The days of sleeping on the ground are in the past. I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to get up once I got down. So we bought the pop up camper.
We were a bit concerned (as were my kids) whether we could open and close it. My hubby has COPD and gets out of breath with any bit of exertion, but we managed and have now developed a system. It takes us a bit longer than most people, but we manage.
So last weekend was our first campout. Unfortunately, the weather didn't exactly cooperate. It reminded me
of the first Memorial Day we camped in 1968. Cold weather and this time to top it off we had rain off and on. At least back then it was sunny and dry.
But we had fun and that's the important thing. I'm looking forward to our next camping trip which is planned for June.

Find my books at Amazon.

Another Fantastic Design

from my talented friend Karen Cote.

Fate, kismet,  or whatever you want to call it, it turned Interior Designer, Wendy Seidel's world upside down. From a chance meeting at the airport to Florida and back to Ohio, she can't believe the strange circumstances that throw her together with Bill Johnson, after he literally knocks her off her feet at the airport.   

Available from Amazon

Excerpt:

What the hell?” My carry-on bag slid across the floor and slammed into the wall. My feet slipped out from under me, I landed flat on my back, and someone fell on top of me, pinning me to the floor. The breath knocked out of me, I lay still a moment.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I finally caught my breath and pushed him off. “Everyone’s always in such a big hurry.”

“Why’d you slow down? You darned near stopped in front of me.” He stood up, brushed himself off and held out his hand to help me up. “Sorry.”

I knocked his hand away, got to my knees and stood. I didn’t need his help. Not his or anyone else’s for that matter. What I needed was to find my bag and get on to my gate.

“Look, I’m sorry. It was entirely my fault. I shouldn’t have been in such a hurry.” He held his hand out to me again, but I ignored it. “Here, let me get that for you.” He hurried to pick up my bag, but I grabbed it first.

“Look, Mister, I have a plane to catch, so excuse me if I don’t have time to chat.” I straightened my bag, grabbed the handle and started toward my gate. Good looking in a rustic sort of way, I had to admit. Probably worked outdoors or at least spent a lot of time outside. Not that it made any difference. I didn’t have time for him. Or any man for that matter. I had a career to build, and men didn’t figure into it.

It wasn’t that I didn’t like men. I did. Even dated occasionally. Eventually I’d like to have a relationship, even get married. But relationships and marriage took time, not a priority right now. My career came first. Something about him, though.

I couldn’t resist looking back. Great. He stood watching me with a silly smirk on his face. Nice eyes, soft gray.  I loved gray eyes. Maybe because my grandfather had gray eyes. He lifted his hand and waved at me. Heat burned my face, and I hurried off in the direction of the gate, looking at the signs above. Only at Gate 2. Not even close. Of course my gate was at the farthest end of the airport. Thankfully, there was plenty of time to get there.

I avoided a heavyset man, hell bent on his mission. I hated this time of year. Everyone was in such a big hurry.

To make matters worse, my butt hurt but I resisted rubbing it. Didn’t need to look like any more of an idiot. Ah, Gate 11, finally. Now I could sit down and relax, since there was still forty-five minutes before my flight. I took a book out of the side pocket of my carry-on and settled back to wait. Not that I could concentrate, anger at my boss raged inside me. Who in their right mind set up a meeting with a client right before New Years? And in Florida, no less. Obviously, Nick didn’t care that I had plans for New Year’s Eve.

So I was getting out of Ohio, big deal. Sure, my friends thought I was lucky, especially with the predicted snowstorm. Didn’t make any difference to me, I liked snow.

 I glanced out a window. Already it was coming down pretty heavy, and there was still a good half hour before my flight.

Damn it, I hated flying. I could have sent the samples just as easy. What was so important they required me to personally bring them?  I thought we’d settled everything before the client left. Why the sudden change? They could have at least waited until after the holidays.

Nick, my boss, promised I’d be home by New Year’s Eve. Yeah right. I knew how these things went. First this problem, than that one. I’d be lucky to be home in time for my nephew’s birthday on the sixth.  Nick better not have any funny ideas. This was strictly business. I’d heard about his reputation with women. So far he hadn’t shown an interest in me, and I certainly didn’t have a problem with that. Good-looking though Nick was, nothing about him attracted me. Definitely not my type. Not that I had a type.

“Looks like we’re on the same flight,” a masculine voice said.

I looked up and almost groaned out loud. This couldn’t be happening. What were the chances we’d be on the same flight? I tried to ignore him, but something drew my eyes to his.

“Bill Johnson.” He extended his hand toward me. “I really am sorry about knocking you down.”

I shrugged and shook his hand. “No problem.” A quiver started deep in my stomach when he held my hand a bit longer than necessary. Rough, calloused hands. Does hard work. Maybe construction. I pulled my hand away and turned my attention back to my book. I hated talking to people at airports. Lord, please tell me he doesn’t have the seat next to me. I couldn’t be that unlucky, could I?

Of course I could.

Taking a peek at the ticket sticking out of his coat pocket, I groaned. Seat 16A. No way, what were the chances? I hoped he’d take the hint and leave me alone.

“Are you staying in Fort Myers?” He sat down next to me.

Figured, no such luck. I nodded. Maybe if I didn’t contribute to the conversation, he’d go away. I kept my eyes on my book but couldn’t concentrate. I had the irresistible urge to look at him, but ignored it. What was it about him?

“Visiting or business?”

I looked up from my book. He just wasn’t going to quit. “Business, no time for pleasure.” Maybe that would shut him up.

He smiled. “Everyone has time for pleasure. All work and no play...” He let the rest of the saying hang. 

I put the book in front of my face. “I guess I’m a dull boy then.” Why didn’t he just let me read in peace. I couldn’t be much ruder. Some people just couldn’t take a hint.

Bill laughed. A big hearty laugh that caused people to stare.  I wanted to crawl under my seat. “What’s so funny?”

“Honey, you look like anything but a boy.” His gaze took me in from top to bottom and came to rest on my breasts.

Okay, I’m well endowed and wished I had left my jacket on. Not that there was much to see through my bulky sweater, but enough. Heat rushed to my face again. Crap, why did I blush so easily? My face was probably as red as my hair. “Okay, so I don’t look like a boy. Just finishing the saying. And DON’T call me honey!” I put the book in front of my face, turned away from him, and tried to read. Lord, spare me friendly people. Especially men.

 The last thing I needed was a man trying to pick me up. I wished he’d just go away.  I could call airport security, but didn’t want to cause a scene. He’d done enough of that.

“Since you won’t tell me your name, I don’t know what else to call you.”

“Don’t call me anything.” I slammed my book shut, stood, and walked to the window. What more did I have to do to let him know I wasn’t interested? I stared out the window. Things didn’t look good outside.

“Full blown blizzard.” Bill’s deep voice came from behind.

I felt his breath on my neck and shivered from the warmth of it. Or was it from his nearness? Whatever it was, I didn’t like it.  I looked at my watch. Still almost a half hour before take off. So far they hadn’t cancelled the flight.

As if my thoughts magically conjured it up, a voice came over the PA system. “We regret to inform you that all flights to and from Cleveland Hopkins Airport have been cancelled until further notice.  New flights can be rebooked as soon as we resume our schedule. Sorry for the inconvenience. Airport shuttles are standing by to take you to a hotel. If you can’t get a room, you’re welcome to stay at the airport. Concession stands and restaurants will remain open for your convenience. 

OOPS

I missed posting yesterday. Thought about it, and then got busy with something else. Later two of my sons and their families came over and next thing you knew it was almost eleven o'clock when they left. 
Not that I minded. I absolutely love when any of my kids visit. I can't wait until summer when we can have our barbeque parties again. I so enjoy having all the kids come over. 
Today was a lazy day, watching the Olympics. It amazes me the work these people put into it, not to mention the energy. I can't honestly say which sport I enjoy the most. I'd love to try my hand at curling. Problem would be when it was my turn to deliver. I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to get back up. 
Another favorite sport is the skiing, but I also love the skating and racing. I guess you can say I like it all. 
I especially like it when the US medals, but it's fun to watch everyone compete.

Don't forget you can find my books at Amazon 

What happened to English grammar?

I mean seriously – did people forget what they learned in school? Or are they not teaching it anymore?

I’m specifically referring to the use of I and me. I read it in books, see it on television, face book and hear it constantly.

Do people really not know the proper use of pairing the two words with an and between them. Joe and I – Joe and me. 

I seldom hear me anymore. It’s always and I. 

I was taught if you weren't sure which to use, I or me, to simply leave off the first part – Joe and.

Pretty simple really. Joe and I went to the store – Leave off Joe and – I went to the store. Correct. 

Come to the store with Joe and I – leave off Joe and – Come to the store with I??? Seriously, would anyone speak that way?  Of course not, you’d say Come to the store with me. So obviously me is correct. 

But that’s not what people are saying, or writing.

I watched a program the other night on the Hallmark Channel. They consistently used and I. Didn't matter that it was incorrect.

Is this what’s being taught in our schools today? 

Is this the new language? 

I know many publishers are doing away with commas. In fact, The Chicago Manual of Style has changed using a comma after and in a series. I’ll have bacon, eggs, and toast. Why?  Apparently The Chicago Manual of Style has replaced The Elements of Style (Strunk and White) and that's what publishers use today.

 I know sometimes commas are overused, especially in run on sentences. But there is a need for them. Commas indicate pause. I've read sentences  more than once so they’d make sense, because of a lack of commas.

 What is this world coming to?

Are people too lazy to speak  and write properly? Aren't there enough editors knowledgeable about grammar to correct these errors?

Or do people think it sounds better to use and I?

Welcome, Sydell Voeller

Summer Magic by Sydell Voeller, available at Amazon Kindle

Published by Books We Love Ltd:  www.bookswelove.net

             When her fiancé calls off their engagement, veterinarian assistant Lisa Prentice joins the circus in hopes of escaping the everyday grind. But life under the big top isn't quite what she expected. None of the veterinarian's former assistants managed to please their short-tempered boss, and Lisa fears that her days are numbered, too. Michael Figaro, a dashing young trapeze artist, is also cautious about whether Lisa can stay, and keeps his distance. Still, Lisa finds herself overwhelmingly attracted to him. Although Michael is the aerialist, it is Lisa who is flying on an emotional high wire. What happened to her safety net? Will their love survive?

Introduction to the Story 

            The year before, while the circus was on a 6-week lay-over at Madison Square Garden, Lisa Prentice had met dashing aerialist, Michael Figaro. There she’d also unexpectedly helped save a critically ill Arabian horse, Ebony, and she’d immediately fallen in love with the horse. Michael was more than a minor attraction too--and now that Lisa’s back, his charisma is once again working its magic on her.  Michael has just met her at the airport, brought her back to the circus grounds, and introduced her to his family-- also circus performers.  His twin sister, Estelle, welcomes Lisa with open arms and invites her to stay  in her trailer, and Lisa accepts.  Michael’s second sister, however, gives Lisa a frosty reception, and Lisa can’t help but wonder why.  Nonetheless, Lisa is eager to watch Michael and his family perform, and now she has the opportunity to do so: 

Partial Excerpt from Chapter 2 

Inside the coliseum, Lisa found an unreserved seat and sat down.  The band was playing a lively tune.  Vendors selling popcorn and cotton candy worked the side aisles.

As the lights dimmed and the music swelled, a rainbow of colors filled the arena.  Lisa's meeting with Claudette soon forgotten, new anticipation flowed through her.  It was time for the Spectacle to begin.

With rapt attentiveness, she clasped her hands together. Animals in bright head dresses and performers wearing sequin-spangled costumes paraded by.  Then came the first act, which soon gave way to the next.  Lisa laughed with the crowds at the chimps bouncing on pogo sticks, clapped for the tiger jumping through a ring of fire, and gazed in awe at the red-sequined showgirls performing an aerial ballet.   

Next the Flying Figaros emerged.  Dressed in glittering silver capes, holding hands and smiling their most dazzling smiles, they sprinted into the center ring.  In seconds the troupe was ascending the high rope ladder, Estelle sitting on Michael's shoulders.  While Claudette began to swing from a trapeze, Michael and Rudolph, perched on high rungs, balanced poles from their foreheads.

In an instant, the blue spotlight shifted back to the two young women.  Lisa watched first one, then the other spin through the air, skillfully performing their famous double somersaults.  The most difficult trick--Michael's triple--was only seconds away.

"And now ladies and gentlemen, children of all ages,”  the ringmaster boomed, "world-renowned Michael Figaro will perform one of the most daring acts in circus history!  The triple somersault!"

A hush blanketed the coliseum.  The drums rolled.  From somewhere overhead, the spotlights dimmed, casting a dramatic hue over the performers.  Lisa's heart pounded.  Every nerve in her body stood on end.  Oh, Michael.  Please be careful, she silently pleaded.

Michael dusted his hands with resin.  Then he began to swing.  The intensity was etched clearly on his face.  His taut muscles revealed the strength in his torso and upper arms.  Last year when she'd witnessed Michael's performance, she'd secretly vowed he was the most gorgeous man alive. Tonight was no exception.

Higher and higher he arched.  With a quick thrust, he tucked himself into a ball and whirled through the air.

The drums stopped rolling.  Lisa felt her hands grow clammy as she braced herself on the edge of her seat. Suddenly Michael's body straightened and his hands connected with the catcher's.  The applause exploded.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the ringmaster hollered, "you have just witnessed the most important feat on the face of the earth!"

While the crowds went wild, Lisa went limp with relief.

Oh, Michael, no wonder you came back, her heart cried out.  His performance was commanding.  Michael Figaro was destined for stardom.  How easy it would be to fall in love with him--only to end up heart-broken once again.  There must be at least a hundred women, watching him this very moment, who would give their souls just to touch his hand.  She could no more hold onto Michael than she had Charles.

One by one, the flyers dropped into the safety net, then onto the floor.  The crowd rose from their seats and cheered louder as the troupe took sweeping bows, then disappeared behind a royal blue curtain.

Suddenly the beating of hooves sounded.  The air stirred as three gorgeous black horses without riders or reins streaked past.  The ring seemed charged with their electrifying energy.

Lisa blinked twice.  Ebony!  The leading horse had to be Ebony!  In the center of the ring stood Mr. Figaro dressed in white and grasping a long whip.

The blue spot lights shifted to red.  While the other horses took their places opposite each other near the edge of the ring, Ebony cantered gracefully to the center.  She reared up.  Like a magnificent mystical creature, she pawed the air.  The other show horses immediately followed Ebony's cue.

Step-by-step she led them through one trick after another.  Then the lights dimmed as the horses made their exit...

Partial Excerpt from Chapter 3

"You still want to see Ebony tonight?" Michael asked as they strolled down a wide sidewalk that fronted the circus grounds.

"Oh, yes!"  Lisa smiled up at him.  The pale glow from a streetlight illuminated his profile.  Overhead, a spattering of stars winked in the cobalt blue sky. A balmy summer breeze lifted her hair.  Until just a few moments ago, Michael had been unusually quiet.  Lisa suspected he was pondering his father's leaving and the added responsibilities that entailed.  Or was it something more?

They crossed the north side of the lot, then threaded their way among the animal cages, trucks, and horse trailers.  In minutes they came to the horse tent and ducked inside.

The sweet smell of fresh hay filled Lisa's nostrils. A horse nickered.  She followed Michael past three black stallions and a Shetland pony that were switching their tails as they munched hay.

"Oh, Michael, there she is!" Lisa cried as she pointed to the end of the row.

"Yep!  Isn't she a beaut?" he asked, beaming.

As Lisa hurried up to the horse and began stroking her mane, Ebony lifted her head and stared back through half-lidded eyes.

"Ebony, you're beautiful!  Just as I'd remembered." The horse's ears twitched.  Lisa reached down, picked up a fistful of hay, and offered it on her opened palm.  Ebony's snout was velvety soft.

"Instant bonding," Michael said.  He grinned approvingly, rocking back on his heels.

"Oh, I hope so.  In fact, I'm looking forward to working with all the horses."

"Good.  I may need some help."

"How are you feeling about that?" Lisa asked as she stooped down to pick up more hay.  "About taking the responsibility for the show horses?" She straightened again, then turned to look up at him.  She watched his grin suddenly fade.

He glanced away.  "Scared.  Very scared."

“I doubt your father would've asked you to do it if he didn't think you were capable."

"It's expected of me, Lisa.  That's what being in the circus is all about.  Most of us, sooner or later, have to wear more than one hat. Pop would still be flying, too, if it hadn't have been for his accident.  And Uncle Rudy...he not only works as our catcher, but oversees the side show most of the time too."

"And here I'm feeling overwhelmed!  All I have to do is assist Dr. Woodstock and pass my probation."  A ripple of excitement overshadowed Lisa's uncertainty.  Tomorrow. Tomorrow she'd finally set out to accomplish what she'd come for. "Back home, my best friend Melanie and I go riding almost every weekend at Doc Largent's stables," she went on. "Will you let me ride Ebony sometime soon?"

"Maybe tomorrow.  If you can find a minute or two to spring free, just check with me or one of the stable boys first."

"I will."

"Let's tell this critter good-night and split." Michael's voice was laced with impatience.

"What's the big hurry?"  She met his gaze and chuckled.

"I...I just thought you might be hungry.  There's a deli not far up the street that makes a mean grilled pastrami sandwich."  He shrugged.  "Besides, as far as I know, you haven't had anything to eat since this afternoon back at the airport."

"Thanks, but I'm still too keyed up to eat any more.  I should really turn in."  She gave Ebony one final pat, avoiding Michael's gaze. Though a late snack with Michael was more than tempting, she knew she mustn't.  Already these few short hours with him had stirred too many confusing emotions within her.

Michael reached out and cupped her chin with his hand, gently prodding her to look at him.  "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely."

"All right, then.  I'll walk you to Estelle's trailer, but I doubt if she'll be there for another hour or so.  She usually goes to my folks' motor home to have a bite to eat. Most likely Mom will save something for me, too."  He chuckled.  "She always thinks if I'm left to my own culinary devices, I'll waste away."

The air was heavy with the scent of sawdust and animals, mingled with mesquite wafting from someone's small propane barbecue alongside one of the trailers.

As they started out, his arm brushed her shoulder. Though the contact was fleeting, she was acutely conscious of his nearness.  A shudder rippled through her.

"Chilly?"

"Yes...no."  She felt like a silly school girl, unable to know her own mind.  Though the earlier rain squalls had been warm and humid, now the air was much too balmy to explain her physical response.  How could she admit to Michael, much less to herself, that his magnetic presence was hopelessly unraveling her?

But in the wake of that awareness her memory instantly sharpened.  The groupies.  That showgirl.  How could she ever compete--even if she did desire a relationship with Michael?  No, they might as well have come from two distinct planets on the opposite sides of the galaxy. She was definitely an outsider to Michael's tightly knit world.  She would remain that way no matter how long she stayed.  And even if she let down her guard and allowed him to capture her in his spell, how long could it last?  Would he soon move on to someone more enticing?  Just as Charles had?

"Michael?"

"Hmm?"

She hesitated before going on.  "Who was that show girl you were talking to tonight?"

"Her name's Rita and she's new here.  She used to be an aerialist with another circus.  I hear she was pretty good. Claudette wanted me to do Rita a favor today--give her a lift--but, I managed to get out of it.  I went to the airport to meet you instead."  He edged away slightly, letting his arm drop to his side.

 Lisa pushed back the fleeting thought that Michael's purpose in meeting her might've been simply to avoid giving in to his twin sister. "I bet that ticked off Claudette," she said.

 "She'll get over it," he answered, his expression unreadable.  "Besides, there was no reason why Claudette couldn't have played chauffeur to Rita.  Rita's great- aunt Mildred--or whoever she wanted to see--apparently lives on some dude ranch near the north end of the county."  They side-stepped a wardrobe trunk someone had left near the door of a fifth wheeler.

"The way I see it," Michael continued in an offhand manner, "Rita is fun to joke around with it, but that's about it.  If Claudette wants to buddy up with Rita, then fine.  She doesn't need to involve me too."

Lisa shot him a questioning glance.  Wasn't Michael aware of his charismatic appeal?  Even something innocent like joking around might give Rita reason to believe she stood a chance with him.

"So are you trying to say Claudette's playing Cupid?" Lisa asked.  "Your sister wants to bring you and Rita together?"

"Yep."

"Why?"

"It all goes back to her fear of me leaving--just like we talked about earlier.  Claudette figures if I end up marrying another flyer, then I'll stay with the troupe forever."

"And what do you think?"  She stopped walking and swung around to look at him.

"I'm going to stay, no matter what," he ground out. "I've tried it on the outside.  I'm back where I belong."

"Of course.  Your performance tonight made that more than obvious."

Michael’s message had come through loud and clear.  He could never make a life for himself anywhere other than the circus.

As they started walking again, a picture of Rita returned to her mind.  "Any special reason why Rita decided to join Jessell and Stern?" she asked.

He chuckled.  "So what's with this Rita bit?  You certainly seem more than mildly interested."

"Just curious, that's all," she replied with a shrug, though she could feel her face growing warm with embarrassment.  They passed two keepers carrying buckets of water.

"Rita's troupe broke up so she decided to move on. According to Claudette, when Rita came to Jessell and Stern, she said she needed a change and wanted to work as a showgirl instead.  I guess my sister's made an extra effort to welcome her."

"How accommodating," Lisa said in a low voice.  Actually, it was difficult to understand how Claudette could make anyone feel welcomed.  But maybe she wasn't being fair. Maybe she'd judged Claudette too hastily.

"What was that?"

She flushed again.  "Nothing.  I...I didn't mean that the way it probably sounded.  I guess I'm more tired than I realized."

"Which means I'm doing the right thing by making sure you turn in now."  He grinned again.  "Not that I particularly want to, mind you."

She peered down the row of RVs.  They'd almost come to the end.  "Where are you staying?" she asked.

"Three doors down."  He nodded to a small eighties-vintage trailer.  His pick-up was parked close by.  "It might not be the Taj Mahal, but it gets me by."

"And Claudette?  Where's her place?"

"We passed it already.  Back this side of the costume trailer."

Outside Estelle's RV, Michael dug into his hip pocket and pulled out a key.  "Here.  Take this.  It's a spare and Estelle said for you to hold onto it."  He pressed the key into her palm, prolonging the contact.

"Thanks, Michael."

"Uh...a couple of more things.  Estelle also said to tell you the bottom bunk is yours.  And don't mind her little poodle.  His name's Rags.  Used to be one of Mom's show poodles, but Estelle's let him get soft.  Anyway, he might just decide to give you an overly enthusiastic welcome.  He tends to get a little carried away at times."

"Thanks again.  I'll like that."  She locked her gaze with his.  "Sleep well, Michael."

"You too."  He gave no indication of leaving, but rather leaned closer and settled his hand on the back of her neck. A suggestive smile hovered on the corners of his mouth.  His lips were only a fraction away.

"Lisa?"

"Yes?"

"It's kind of weird, isn't it?  I mean...I never expected to see you again.  When I met you last year, I figured you were just another townie who wandered through."

"Well, I guess I was then.  But I'm not anymore.  I'm here to stay."

A shadow of doubt passed over his face.  "Just hang in there, okay?  Things are gonna be different here.  I guarantee it."

"I realize that, Michael."  She offered him a hesitant smile.  "Truth is, I never expected to sign on with Jessell and Stern either. Serendipity, I guess.  You're right.  Life can be kind of weird sometimes."

"Uh-huh."  Weird and scary, he thought.  His stomach knotted.  He felt as if some bozo had just kicked him in the gut.  Hold on, Figaro. Get a hold of yourself... Yet being close to Lisa, touching her like this...

His voice was ragged as he dropped his hand.  "See ya...see you around."  He hesitated, then reached for her hand and gently pressed her knuckles against his lips. "You'd better get inside.  Now."

"I will."

He turned on his heel and without a backwards glance strode quickly away.

She couldn't go in.  She had to keep watching him. Slowly, gradually his retreating figure faded into the night. Michael, come back! she yearned to call to him.

No! her better judgment ruled.  You don't fit in.  You could never be his.  And even if you could, he'd only end up hurting you.  Let him be.

What was the matter with her? she wondered miserably as she turned the key in the lock.  Why had she allowed her heart to take this crazy roller-coaster ride?  And now, foolish woman that she was, she wanted him more than ever...

Link to Amazon purchase site: 

http://www.amazon.com/Sandcastles-of-Love-ebook/dp/B004X6Z9RQ

Author’s website:  www.sydellvoeller.com