Got Karma? Kerri Nelson and Her New Release: Courting Demons

It's my pleasure to welcome Kerri Nelson today. She's in the middle of a book release tour for her latest  Courting Demons--in addition to all the other things she does such as running The Book Boost and serving as president of Celtic Hearts Romance Writers Chapter of RWA.


Paisley Barton was already having a bad day before she turned her husband into a rat.

First, she was fired by her boss and then came home to find hubby in the shower with a naked blonde chick. They say that hell hath no fury like a woman scorned but this break-up may just unleash hell on Earth when Paisley casts a spell of vengeance against her philandering husband.
After her spell casting inadvertently opens a portal between dimensions, Paisley finds her family home transformed into a nightly courtroom for settling disputes between demons of the underworld and she’s the judge! If that’s not enough, she’s got to deal with a charming, ancient demon named Camden who wants to be her personal bodyguard while trying to explain her husband’s sudden, mysterious disappearance to sexy police Detective Dalton Briggs.
But Paisley will show them all that an everyday working mom is better equipped than most to deal with the mystical mayhem…and with a tempting demon hottie and a flirtatious young detective vying for her affection, she soon learns that being single again isn’t so bad after all.


Read an excerpt of Courting Demons.

Wow, Kerri! This sounds like quite an interesting story. I'm sure there are a lot of folks out there who wish they had Paisley's talents. But that brings up the whole dilemma about the ethics of magic and the kickbacks which, as I understand, that's what you'd like to talk about today.


Got Karma?

I’m a big fan of the movie and concept behind the movie “Pay It Forward”.  Have you seen it?  If not, go now and rent a copy or pick up a copy to watch as soon as you can.

The basic idea is that we could change the world by doing three random acts of kindness and then if each of those people who were affected by your kindness did three random acts of kindness for others and so on and so forth it would be an endless cycle of good karma.

If you do research on karma you’ll see that it originated with the Indian culture and is a theory used in Buddhism and Hinduism.  And while I don’t practice those religions or live by those societal rules, I do believe that the actions you take whether good or bad will eventually come back to you.

In other words, if you put out negative energy, it will circle back around to bite you.  I don’t know about you but if there is even a possibility of this being true, why wouldn’t you want to put out as much positive energy as humanly possible?

My heroine, Paisley Barton has had some negative experiences build up on her and instead of reacting in a positive light, she turns toward darkness.  This holds many negative consequences for her not the least of which is that it will ultimately affect her destiny to work on the side of good.

Of course, I’ve created this character from my imagination and I throw a lot of bad stuff at her throughout the book but no matter what happens to her, she keeps pushing forward.  She tries to fix things, set things straight, be the kind of mother she knows she should be.

No matter how many obstacles, how much darkness comes her way…she keeps running for the light…the good…she wants that good karma and she doesn’t give up.

What do you do when life throws a dark cape around your shoulders and tries to pull you down?  Do you pull away and run for the light even if the journey there is hard?  Or, do you let it fence you into a bad place where you seek revenge, give in to your desire to get even, or sends you off into the corner to pout or mope?

We’ve all had our share of hard times.  Maybe not the exact same situations as my character Paisley does (at least I hope not), but hard times nonetheless.  I’ve recently been diagnosed with a new medical condition that is really throwing me for a loop.  I know you all have most likely have something in your life that challenges you mercilessly as well.

So, today, one of the prizes I’m giving away is a donation to the charity of your choice.  If there’s a special organization that holds a place in your heart, I’d like to throw some much needed good karma their way.  Maybe it will come back to help me and maybe it won’t.  But I’ll feel all the better for having done it and helping other is one of my fave things to do.  What do you like to do to spread good karma?  ©  Kerri Nelson 2011

Thanks for hosting, Carole.  Let’s all remember to pay it forward.

Speaking of which, Kerri has a couple of giveaway's going, so don't leave yet.  Where can we get copies of Courting Demons?

Print and e-book versions are available wherever books are sold but here’s the publisher link—free gift available with purchase of print copy—while supplies last) or at Amazon.com.

To enter the giveaway for today:

Leave a question or comment to be entered to win today’s prize: A Custom Made Bread Bag Clip & a donation to the charity of your choice!

Then, enter to win my book tour Grand Prize Kindle by following me on tour and e-mailing me the answers to each question of the day at the end of tour.  The more questions you answer, the more entries you gain.

Question of the Day: 

To what charity do the author’s royalties go to from the sales of my book Making the Ghost of It?

Details on how to enter to win the GRAND PRIZE Kindle at the end of my “Dark Days of Demons Tour” located here:

Author Bio:

Kerri Nelson discovered her love of writing at an early age and soon became a columnist for her local newspaper winning the Outstanding Young Journalist of the Year Award for her efforts.

After a fifteen year career in the legal field, Kerri fulfilled her lifelong dream of publication and is now an award winning multi-published author of nearly every genre under the sun (and moon) and also writes young adult fiction under the penname K.G. Summers. 

A true southern belle, she comes complete with a dashing southern gentleman and three adorable children for whom she often bakes many homemade treats. 

Kerri is an active member of Sisters in Crime and Romance Writers of America as well as numerous chapters including Futuristic Fantasy & Paranormal Writers and her Presidency of Celtic Hearts Romance Writers.

Read more about Kerri’s books at her website:  www.kerrinelson.com

Follow her on Twitter here:  www.twitter.com/kerribookwriter

Visit her industry blog here:  www.thebookboost.blogspot.com

Is There Life After Novels?

(Shells on the Beach, Southhampton, New York)

There are a lot of drains on my time and energy right now, including a painful shoulder injury and attendant doctor/physical therapy visits and medication related side effects, which, threatened to sideline my writing for a while.

The overuse injury is due in part to exercise and, since it's my right arm and the pain extends from shoulder to wrist, typing surely has something to contribute. I am a fitness and outdoor enthusiast, and a novel writing fanatic.

For the last two years, I've been focused on revising or writing novels and a novella and have a lot to show for it--besides the stupor, brain drain, and arm pain. I'm typing again, a bit slower and mousing with my left hand.

My Cape Cod paranormal romance series consists of two completed novels, Unfinished Business and The Widow's Walk, with the third (working title: Hurricane Watch) partially outlined.

Boulevard of Bad Spells and Broken Dreams: Void of Course, is the first of two, maybe three, urban fantasies. The plot of the second book, likely with the same title and a subtitle involving tarot (as opposed to astrology), is beginning to gel in my mind, my dreams, and my ruminations even before the finishing touches have been put on book one.

That's a total of 330,000 words written, plus the 20,000 I cut out of The Widow's Walk, and the 2500 for the first chapter of Hurricane Watch. In order to keep momentum going, I've had to work on all three over the last twenty-four months, sometimes two at a time, and when the worlds and characters are so different, that becomes a real struggle.

I strive for 1000 words a day, either new material or revisions, and sometimes succeed, though more often I will nod off over the keyboard after a measly 100 or a chapter of revision. Sometimes, I get no novel work done, and I've neglected my short stories, my nonfiction, my reviews, my blogs, and my reading with the result of a to do pile threatening to collapse my nightstand.

I have a new nonfiction gig but have to wait until the ink is dry on the contract before going public. And I'm still reviewing anthologies and collections for Tangent Online and The Portal, with a review of After the Apocalypse by Maureen McHugh due out in the next week or so.

What else have I been reading? Tom Wolfe's Bonfire of the Vanities, which is somewhat comparable to the setting of Boulevard, except for the fairies, vampires, and werewolves. And a book Nancy Kress recommended I take a look at: The French Lietenant's Woman by John Fowles, mainly to absorb the Victorian flavor. The interesting omni/intrusive narration and footnotes are a curious mix. Both good stories, though.

At this point, with summer done and fall weather here, the Cape characters and scenes are quiescent, with the manuscripts out with three agents.

But I'm so deep into research for Boulevard, having just completed a basic and advanced astrology course, reading backround material on Santeria and Voudoun, and field trips to botanicas and the Bronx County Courthouse that I dream in scenes and drive with a pencil and pad in hand, taking notes at red lights, recording ideas and inspirations, and trying to focus on reality.

It's been a great, productive summer--and the momentum after Taos Toolbox has been exponential--but the problem with intensive workshops is that when one returns to real life, which for many of us involves a full time job (with teenagers), that does not include fiction writing, not to mention a family (with teenagers) there is bound to be some shock and denial, which is probably why I'm in the physical condition I'm in now.

Is there life after novels? Was there life before them? What will I do when they're done, or will I ever be done?

Ten Years Later: Tread Lightly On Our Memories, The Pain is Still Very Great

Lower Manhattan-Then And Now-My Scrapbook

9/11/01 struck like an alligator lurking just below the water. It grabbed every single person in New York City and the tri-state area, chewed us up, and spit us out--some dead, some mangled physically or psychologically, all changed--most for the worse but there are always glimmers of hope that get through the darkness.

It takes a lot to get a New Yorker's attention since we're always on sensory overload, scanning ahead, to the side and behind for the ever present threat of something unexpected. And since that day, there's even more to watch out for than the occasional nut waving something that looks like a gun or knife. We're used to that.


And it takes a lot to bring this City to its knees, though since 9/11/01 the schools close much more regularly for storms, the mass transit system was stopped and even Brooklyn was evacuated in anticipation of Hurricane Irene. We're not taking any chances, especially in September when the lure of a sky, so clear so brilliant, so cloudless, a cross between periwinkle and Wedgewood, low humidity and bright sunshine brings back memories of suddenly being inundated by flames, ash, smoke, of incessant sirens and alarms, of screams, tears, and the world standing still.


A routine morning turned into one that everyone, including pre-school children, would never forget, since their parents couldn't get home to pick them up, take them home, hug them, and try to explain. Some of us were mandated to remain at our jobs in anticipation of mass casualties. Other couldn't get past roadblocks, over closed bridges, through closed tunnels and streets crowded with throngs running, walking, limping out of lower Manhattan, covered in thick white dust while fire trucks, police vans, ambulances rushed toward the burning Twin Towers.


 And some never got home because they were dead or dying in the attacks, including neighbors, friends, and family members of co-workers.I remember a kinder, gentler New York City in the days after the attacks. Bosses not worrying if you got in late due to roadblocks, and really wanting to hear the truth when they asked how you were doing. Petty politics on the job suspended, silly grievances forgotten.Flags everywhere, including the rear windows of every car. Less road rage, more patience on long lines. Spontaneous parades and candlelight vigils. I myself stopped to listen, hold hands and say a prayer with an evangelical something on Chambers Street when I made the pilgrimage to Ground Zero for the first time.


There were not a lot of smiles as we donned masks and gloves and emptied our mailboxes over the recycling pail--outdoors and away from the kids-- during a surprisingly mild, dry fall. It made it easier as recovery efforts went on, we watched for Anthrax, sent socks, lip balm, water, work gloves and other supplies to Shea Stadium for distribution to the heroes downtown--many of them now terribly ill from toxic exposures (including the police officer who gave me copies of images he took at Ground Zero). One police officer I know, a thirty-five year old singlemother, has died.


In addition to nuts, impaired drivers, rats and petty thieves snatching I-pods and gold chains, we did as told: "If you see something, say something." The campaign didn't bear fruit until years later when a multitude of terrorist plots and activities were uncovered, but we also learned to expect, and welcome, police and the National Guard, with weapons drawn, patrolling bus terminals, train stations and at times of high alert, the subways, bridges, and tunnels.I drive over the East River bridges almost every day, and there is never a time when I look at the hole in the skyline and don't remember. And in my own post traumatic stress disordered world, the sounds of sirens still shock my heart into a rapid rhythm, make me nauseous, and weaken my knees.


There are plenty of things to do this Sunday to commemorate the tenth anniversary of 9/1/01. Concerts, multimedia retrospectives, church services, ceremonies, dedications. I'm not sure what I'll do. My sons, 10 and 8 at the time of the attacks, are away at college. My daughter, who we adopted in 2003, was born nearly a year after and I'm trying to explain it before show her the pictures. Anguish spurned me into initiating the proceedings in November 2001, because there were just no more good excuses to put off all the things I'd always wanted to do.


I could also just do my routine Sunday things like take ballet class, or putter in my garden, or clean up the house, but I am feeling an even bigger sense of loss this year since my father's recent death. His construction company was a major contractor for the building of the WTC, and it was one of his proudest accomplishments and greatest heartbreaks.Even my favorite peaceful activities- kayaking or walking along the shorelines, seeing my childhood haunts, remembering how it was to be a kid is too painful these days, with the hole in my life left by Dad's absence, the hole in my heart left by the hole in the New York City skyline. 


I can still remember the fear, the confusion, the desperation, the camaraderie, the anger, the sounds, the smells--oh yes, that smell of smoke, burning rubber and plastic, and death diffusing over the world churning my stomach into a knot, keeping me on the verge of puking every time wind blew a certain way.On September 1, I took these images of the Freedom Tower rising above the space left for the 9/11 Memorial Pools over the footprints of the towers--a crypt for the unidentified remains and for those whose remains were never found. The DJ on The Circle Line was playing Usher's D.J.'s Got Us Falling in Love Again and it seemed like an appropriately upbeat way to sail past the new skyline toward the tenth anniversary of the attacks.


But as today approached, melancholy washed over me like the rains flooding the tri-state area. Natural disasters like hurricanes, earthquakes, and tornados aren't intentionally planned to spawn death, destruction and despair--unless your gods or God is more capricious than mine. I'm physically sick today, puked once already, and my right arm feels like it's been wrenched out of place. I don't want to hear any speeches, listen to any music. I don't want to read any "ten years later" stories. I don't want to do things I love: to dance, or to write. I don't want to do anything except hug my husband and my kids, crawl into bed, and wake up tomorrow morning.


Read part of the 9/11/01 chapter from Someday I'm Going to Write a Book


Read last year's retrospective The Twin Towers and the Lowly Parking Meter--A 9/11 Remembrance

Crossing Genres-Marlene Dotterer and Her New Release: Shipbuilder

I am delighted welcome Marlene Dotterer,  a long time member of Online Writer's Workshop. We met a few years back during an online workshop and I had the opportunity to read some of her novel,  Shipbuilder, which has now been published. 

Imagine being there before the Titanic set sail.

Now imagine being there before she’s even built.

Sam Altair is a physicist living in Belfast, Ireland. He has spent his career researching time travel and now, in early 2006, he’s finally reached the point where he can send objects backwards through time. The only problem is, he doesn’t know where the objects go. They don’t show up in the past, and no one notices any changes to the present. Are they creating alternate time lines?

To collect more data, Sam tries a clandestine experiment in a public park, late at night. But the experiment goes horribly wrong when Casey Wilson, a student at the university, stumbles into his isolation field. Sam tries to rescue her, but instead, he and Casey are transported back to the year 1906. Stuck in the past, cut off from everyone and everything they know, Sam and Casey work together to help each other survive. Then Casey meets Thomas Andrews, the man who will shortly begin to build the most famous ship since Noah’s Ark. Should they warn him, changing the past and creating unknown consequences for the future?

Or should they let him die?

Welcome, Marlene. Crossing genres is a subject near and dear to me. Many times I am asked, what is this? And often I answer with a combination of three, sometimes four subgenres. This can make it hard to sell in traditional markets who want to know where the book goes on the shelf. My answer is put it on three or four shelves! Especially now that most of them are virtual ones. Give us your insights.

Thank you having me, Carole. I’m excited to chat with your readers about my book. Let me start with a question:

Is it Science Fiction if the story takes place in the past?                 

My answer:

Probably not. Not exactly, anyway.

There. Wasn't that easy?

Science fiction, as I understand it, involves technology. Usually, the story takes place in the future, with space ships, planets, and weapons easily capable of exterminating humanity. However, there are also present-day plots. These are usually Michael Crichton-type  doomsday scenarios with superbugs breaking loose and exterminating humanity. Or they can be aliens-visiting-earth, who either

a)befriend some kids and eventually go away, or

b)exterminate humanity.

Other stories take place in some variant of current or near-future earth, with just enough difference to show it's not our own present day. Computer related stories are a popular type of this sub-genre, with people lost in the circuits, or some role-playing game starts to take over the world. And exterminates humanity.

What about steampunk? Ah, now that takes place in the past, and is most definitely a type of science fiction. SF as H.G. Wells would write it, but with more martial arts. Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials is an example of this, and I believe there was some danger of humanity being exterminated. At least, the kid part of it.

I wonder about this question because my book takes place in 1906 - 1912, and it's not steampunk. Yes, there's a scientist in it, and there's time travel. But the time travel is quickly done and never really explained, although it is clearly science-based. There's nothing supernatural going on.

Is this science fiction?

I feel safe calling it alternate history, but is alternate history a branch of SF? I've always thought of it so, but I could be wrong.

TTJ: Shipbuilder is also historical fiction, assuming you don't mind time travelers talking about space shuttles in your historical fiction.

It's also romance. So here is where I tie it all together by calling it...  get ready... Time Travel Romance.

To me, this says science fiction because of the time travel. It also says romance (obviously), and it probably means historical fiction, since (most) time travel stories involve going to the past. I consider this a neat package in which to tie up my book. Perhaps with a bow.

Feel free to search for it under any of these genres. I’ve tried to include them all in the keywords because the book could easily be on any of these shelves in a bookstore. But if I had to pick just one shelf, which would it be?

Science fiction. 

Thanks, Marlene. As I said, I've read some of this book and it's on my TBR pile in my TBR file. Take a look, folks. You won't be disappointed.
Anything else, Marlene?

YES! Must Have Give-Aways!

Ships are launched with a bottle of champagne. My book is about a ship, so...

Actually, perhaps it’s best if I don’t try to mail anyone a bottle of champagne. But how about a free book?

Throughout the blog tour, I’ll keep track of everyone who leaves a comment on any of the blogs and enter them into a drawing. At the end of the tour, I’ll pick three winners, each to receive an autographed copy of The Time Travel Journals: Shipbuilder.

So, read on! Comment!

And those stops are:

Sept 2 - Patty Jansen

Sept 3 - Amy Raby

Sept 4 - Anna Kashina

Sept 5 - Darke Conteur

Sept 6 - Carole Ann Moleti

Sept 7 - Meredith Morgenstern

Sept 8 - Sue Ann Bowling



Visit her website for a links to her other interesting articles. Here are buy links for all formats, including print for us dinosaur types.

Smashwords

Amazon Kindle 

Amazon estore for the paperback version

Marlene Dotterer grew up as a desert rat in Tucson, Arizona. In 1990, she loaded her five children into the family station wagon, and drove north-west to the foggy San Francisco Bay Area. To stay warm, she tackled many enterprises, earning a degree in geology, working for a national laboratory, and running her own business as a personal chef. She’s a frustrated gardener, loves to cook, and teaches natural childbirth classes. She says she writes, “to silence the voices,” obsessed with the possibilities of other worlds and other times.

She is married to The Best Husband in the World, and lives in Pleasant Hill, California.

My Hurricane Irene Journal

The worst of the storm seems to have passed but the wind is still whipping the sodden tree limbs. Most major roadways and all subways and commuter lines are closed due to flooding and downed trees and power lines.

We had minor seepage in the basement, which is all cleaned up. The yard is a mess. I hear wind, lots of sirens, but the sun is trying to come out.

I've been keeping a journal on Twitter, if you'r e interested. And I've been writing--a lot. Details are on Livejournal.

I'm writing a post about my thoughts about hurricanes past for my professional blog. Should be up sometime today.

Introducing Debbie Christiana And Her New Release-Twin Flames

I had the distinct pleasure of spending time at the Romance Writers of America  convention this year with Debbie, whose first book,Twin Flames, just came out with Black Opal Books. Her energy and enthusiasm for writing is infectious, and I truly enjoyed the luncheons and the RITA/Golden Heart Award Ceremony more while sitting with her and fellow members of the Connecticut and Lower New York Chapter of RWA.

Kindred spirits often find each other. Debbie grew up in a big Italian family, like me. We were both avid readers as children, and we both typed on a manual typewriter. Her mother gave her a book on reincarnation, mine borrowed from some of the old Italian legends of La Strega.

Fast forward a few years. You all know I write about witches, ghosts, and reincarnation. Debbie, tell us a little about your writing and about Twin Flames.

My stories were about unexplained events, ghosts and skeletons and my newfound favorite subject, past lives. Not much has changed. Although, I’m happy to say my stories now have sinfully sexy men and hopefully, are much more interesting.

Twin Flames is a reincarnation story about two soul mates, which have been together for thousands of years and hundreds of lifetimes.  This incarnation doesn’t go too smoothly and helping them conquer an obstacle or two is a playful ghost from their past.

The last thing forty-year old Natalia Santagario expected was to be sitting on a Manhattan barstool ogling a man she’s never met, but swears she knows.

The mysterious dark-haired woman at the end of the bar stops twenty-eight year old Marc Tremonti in his tracks. His head assures him she’s a stranger, but his heart tells him otherwise.


Their attraction instant and enigmatic, they undergo past life regression and discover that, not only have they spent hundreds of lives together as lovers, Natalia holds the secret to Marc’s puzzling birthmark.


But what should have been a joyful reunion is complicated by a kind, albeit confused, almost ex-wife, a bout of temporary amnesia and a mischievous ghost from their past. 

What else could possibly go wrong?

Sounds like a great story. What else are you working on now? Do you have an excerpt posted, and where can readers find the format they're most interested in?

All the links are on my website, and it's available in ebook and print. My Facebook page is also a good way to keep in touch.

What are you working on now, Debbie?

My WIP Solstice, is about Armend, an Albanian witch with a two hundred and fifty year old curse on his head.  Is Sofia, the powerful Sicilian Strega, the one who can save him? Time is running out and they have to break the curse by Armend’s thirtieth birthday, the winter solstice.  Their quest takes them from New York, to Sicily, to Albania, all the while pursued by a vengeful witch who wants them dead.

Debbie, you and I share something else: we both work in human and social services. 

Yes, when I’m not reading or writing, I run a medium size food pantry in Connecticut. We serve between about 600-800 families per month. I have a wonderful group of volunteers, forty-two to be exact. They are people I work with, but more importantly, they are my friends and I couldn’t do it without them.

Good luck with all your projects, Debbie. Can you share a little excerpt of Twin Flames with us?

Sure. Here goes:

With a hot cup of coffee and a donut in hand, Natalia and her two friends boarded a train for the hour ride to New York City. Grand Central Terminal was jammed with people, most of whom were watching a holiday light show flashing onto the ceiling. Having seen it plenty of times, the three women worked their way through the massive crowd on to Forty-Second Street. After taking in the obligatory holiday sights, the Christmas tree at Rockefeller Center, and a quick stroll down Fifth Avenue, they were ready to move on. They hopped on the subway to Christopher Street in the Village to their favorite out of the way stores for a day of shopping.

“Nat, are you almost ready?” Ellie asked.

“Yeah, and I’m hungry.”

“Should we take Nat to that Italian restaurant we found last time?” Christine asked.

“Sure,” Ellie said. “Want to try it, Nat?”

“Do you both think with a name like Natalia Santagario I don’t get enough Italian food? I was hoping for a big juicy steak and bottle of red wine.”

“I guess we could have steak, but this place is really good. Plus all the waiters are cute.”

“You’re both married,” said Natalia.

“But you’re not,” Christine said, pointing a finger at her.

“Whatever. I don’t care. I’m starving. Let’s go.”

A crowded subway ride later, they arrived at Tremonti’s restaurant on West Fifty-Fourth Street.

Before they went inside, Natalia stopped her two friends. “Thank you,” she said. “I really needed this. I’m glad you kept harassing me about coming with you.”

“We told you so,” said Ellie with a smile.

As they entered the restaurant, they were swallowed by a crowd of shoppers, tourists, and people reveling in the holiday season. Sandwiched between her friends and the other hungry inhabitants of the restaurant, Natalia couldn’t help but notice the wonderful aromas swirling around the room. For a moment, she was a little girl in her grandmother’s Brooklyn apartment, having Sunday dinner.

As she inhaled once more, a strange sensation took hold of her. Her body temperature seemed to shoot to a hundred degrees. Sweat formed on her brow. Light headed, she could feel the color drain from her face.

“Nat, what’s wrong?” Christine asked, resting her hand on Natalia’s shoulder. “You look like you saw a ghost.”

No, I’m used to seeing ghosts. “I’m fine. It’s hot in here, that’s all. Let’s try to work our way to the bar so I can get some water.”

They started to push their way through the crowd when Natalia felt Ellie take her hand. “Hurry, those people are getting up."

No sooner had they hopped up on their barstools than a young waiter appeared.

“What can I get you ladies this evening?”

“Hi,” said Natalia. “I would love a glass of wa—” She sat completely still, staring past the waiter.

“We’ll have three glasses of Merlot, please,” Christine chimed in. “Could you bring my friend some water? She isn’t feeling well.”


“Sure,” the young man said and left.

“Nat, what are you looking at?” Christine asked.

“The man over there making drinks,” she said, pointing to the side of the bar.

“Looking? Ogling is more like it,” scoffed Ellie. “She’s practically drooling.”

“I know him from somewhere,” Natalia said.

“His back is to us. You can’t see his face.”

“I don’t need to see his face.”

Having no logical answers to give them, Natalia ignored the rest of her friend’s questions and continued to watch the fascinating man behind the bar. He was tall with broad shoulders and dark curly hair. His sleeves were rolled up, his strong arms and hands visible. He was good at his job. Quickly dipping his hand in the ice and dropping the cubes into the glasses, he had three drinks made in a just few moments.

Then something changed.


Wow! Too bad nothing like that happened when we were battling the crowds on 42nd Street to get some lunch last June. Thanks for sharing, Debbie!

I'm One Of The Fifty Authors From FIfty States-New York, Of Course

It's quite an honor to have been chosen to write about New York for Annette Snyder's innovative project Fifty Authors From Fifty States.  I've chosen to talk about my experiences in the downstate areas,  the five boroughs of New York City, as well as my favorite upstate haunts near Cazenovia. 

You all know I was born and raised in Da Bronx, and that the City is my real time playground-source of inspiration-entertainment, and the place I know and love best. But I also enjoy getting away from the City That Never Sleeps to places where the sidewalks are rolled up and tucked away after nine p.m.

Here are some images of the Ledyard Linklaen estate known as Lorenzo, which has provided me with many story inspirations, especially the downright Gothic Dark Aisle in the formal gardens and the carriage house, complete with the carriages. Add horses (this is a an equestrian center) during one of the many re-enactments and yearly activities including the Lorenzo Driving Competition, fox hunt, and Winter Festival featuring horse-drawn sleigh rides,  and you''re transported back to an earlier time and place.

Click over to Facebook for more pictures from New York State.

My daughter and I harvest corn, watermelon, and pumpkins every year, and then we go apple picking.