We will remember…
Lest We Forget.
We will remember…
Lest We Forget.
I had visions of getting into Chapter 1 of my new story, Blood Stone, today. Huh! Didn’t happen. Instead, I spent the morning at the dentist. Now, I don’t know about you, but this is not my favourite place to visit. In fact, I’m a chicken when it comes to the dentist. But I really didn’t have a choice. Today was the preparation day for a crown I’m having done after I broke the whole side of a tooth off. I can’t believe I broke a tooth eating a carrot stick. *shaking head here* I mean, you try and do healthy stuff and look what happens. I would have been better to eat the chocolate. lol
So prep is now done and the crown will be fitted in a couple of weeks. Meanwhile, my jaw aches like you wouldn’t believe. I didn’t feel anything while it was being done, but now the numbness has worn of, my jaw is as sore as. I’m guessing it’s only bruising from the dentist pushing down on the tooth, so here’s hoping it subsides quickly. I certainly wasn’t in the mood for writing when I got home. So instead, I spent the day on-line shopping for ribbon, jewelry findings and beads etc so I can make some new, funky bookmarks and bookthongs for the release of my new book, Hidden Fire, when it comes out 1st June. I’ll post photos when they’re done and let you know how you can score one.
And now I’m taking a couple of pain pills and heading off to bed.
RELEASING 1st JUNE
When American Museum Curator Gili Adams’ sleazy boss, Jeremy, threatens her parents and forces her to travel to Australia in search of an opal called the Dreamtime Fire, Gili is willing to face anything to protect her folks, even the evil spirit trapped inside an ancient Persian ring, a ring Jeremy just happens to be wearing. If that’s not bad enough, she has to enlist the help of anthropologist Morgan Hunt, the Guardian of the opal and the man who once accused her of stealing that ring. Now she has no choice: lie to the man she still cares about or risk her parents’ lives. Nothing can stand in her way, not even her own heart.
Morgan isn’t happy to see Gili. Six years ago, she ripped his heart to pieces; he’s not about to volunteer for a repeat performance. Neither will he allow her to waltz off with a gemstone sacred to the aboriginal people. But even with the help of the ancestral ghosts guarding the mine, can he keep both Gili and the fire opal safe from paranormal forces beyond his control?
I’ve just come back from the Australian Romance Writers’ Conference when I met a fantastic new writer. Well, new for me. I bought this author’s two book and had devoured them within three days.What a great read. I’ll definitely be on the watch for more stories from this author.
According to Greek Mythology, Aphrodite had a wayward eye and a loyal son. When Eros gave Harpocrates a rose to keep quiet about his mother’s little indiscretions, the rose became a symbol for secrecy. This is a story Jay Ryan has never heard — until his hand is nailed to a table and a red rose tattooed onto his wrist.
Jay is an interrogator with a dark past and a tortured soul; he’s also the keeper of secrets Israeli spies will kill to get their hands upon. Renowned for his skills, he is used to commanding a certain level of respect amongst his peers. Then one day Jay is drugged, tortured, tattooed and accused of rape. He is forced to reveal information that could further destabilise fragile Middle East relations and plunge the entire region into war. They are secrets he has struggled to keep hidden for four years — proof that the ‘Coalition of the Willing’ knew Israeli Mossad agents removed chemical weapons from Iraq before the launch of the 2003 invasion.
After escaping his captors, Jay discovers that he is wanted for crimes he didn’t commit and that his father has been kidnapped by his own intelligence agency. No-nonsense secret agent Sarah Evans and lively retired security guard William ‘Bill’ Hunter join Jay on a quest to get his father back alive and avoid Israeli spies hell-bent on eliminating them all. Together they uncover the truth behind two spy agencies playing a high-stakes game of espionage with a ‘winner take all’ mindset. After Sarah goes missing, Jay must choose between hunting his father’s kidnappers or saving Sarah and exposing Israel’s involvement in the removal of chemical weapons from Iraq.
This story gripped me and wouldn’t let me go until I’d finished the book. Hard-hitting, gritty, intense, full of fast-paced action, conspiracy, intrigue, plot twists that you just don’t see coming. The scary thing is, with all the military details in this story, you can imagine this really happening and that’s part of what made the story so gripping. I could go on and on, but I’d much rather you go read the book. You won’t be sorry. If you enjoy thrillers and conspiracy stories, you will love this book.
I could rave on about JJ Cooper’s second book, too, but I’m just going to say “amazing, gripping, unforgetable” and allow the blurb, taken from JJ’s website to say it all.
Former army interrogator Jay Ryan is enjoying the quiet life after leaving the military far behind - or so he thinks. Because old habits die hard and he’s quickly thrust back into the thick of things when a disgruntled scientist, backed by the Australian security industry, develops a weapon of mass destruction - a hybrid strain of Anthrax - to be used to create panic in a population apathetic to crime prevention.
Only one batch of Anthrax inoculations can resist the deadly new strain, and it was given to five military interrogators. One of them was Jay Ryan. When the other four disappear, Ryan is the last interrogator left with the antibodies to defeat the deadly Anthrax strain.
Racing against time and hunted by rogue soldiers, mad scientists and an organisation that operates beyond the law, Ryan digs deep into his past for a chance at a future.
It’s ten o’clock on a cold winter night. It’s pouring rain in this quiet suburban street.
The lady of the house is preparing to go to bed, but decides to go out on the back patio to check out the rain and any possible flooding issues before bed. No sooner had she opened the sliding door than in hops a visitor. Yes, I did say hops…as in an inch long green frog. Maybe he’d had enough of the cold and constant rain. Maybe he was looking for something more to eat, something that isn’t water-logged. Whatever the reason, he’s quick. He scoots inside and immediately climbs up the inside of the sliding door. Right to the very top.
Now the lady of the house isn’t keen on anything that moves on four legs…besides your average house cat or dog, that is. She doesn’t like insects, amphibians(even if they are only one inch long), or anything that remotely resembles a snake. Although she’d rather deal with a snake. At least then she can rely on her ten-foot long, trusty shovel to deal with the intruder. Not possible with this little green fellow. She doesn’t want to kill him, just remove him back to the garden. She doesn’t want a house guest, lodger, visitor or boarder, thank you very much.
So there she is, flapping dish towel in one hand, step stool in the other. Up the stool to reach the top of the window. Back down again when the visitor decides to vacate and try the dining table. Then it’s climbing under the table, jumping up at the window, over the couch, on hands and knees and reaching under the couch. All because this little fellow wanted in out of the rain.
I did finally manage to capture him in the dish cloth and transport him outside and pop him on the pool fence. At the time it was annoying to say the least. Me in my nightie crawling around trying to catch this thing. In retrospect, funny as anything. My family would have laughed themselves silly if they’d seen Mom’s antics. lol
It has been a bit of a drought here with my blog posts. So much has happened in the past year or so since my husband’s death, that life overwhelmed me for a while there, but now I’m beginning to fight back. Part of what has helped the process is a recent trip I took to Hawaii. This was a trip my husband and I had planned before he got sick. It was to be the honeymoon we never had 39 years ago when we got married. Sadly, he didn’t last long enough to make that trip, so I made it for both of us. I didn’t go on my own. I took a very good friend, writer Lyn Cash, with me. Missing my husband so much, I never expected to find any real joy in the trip, but I surprised myself. The people of Hawaii are wonderful, very spiritual and warm people. The landscape is unbelievably beautiful and really touched my soul. After speaking with a very loving and wise woman over there, I had another funeral for Brian. A private one. Doing it the Hawaiian way, I walked out into the ocean and cast a flower out for every one of the family members left behind. Every flower was washed out to sea, enabling my husband’s spirit to flow towards the light, or at least that’s what this wise woman assured me. At that moment, as the sun broke over the horizon, I could believe it and it gave me a great deal of peace. Although I’ll always grieve for my soulmate, I came home with a lightened spirit. Now it really is time to start looking to my future as a single woman, although in my heart I’ll always be married.
Waikiki Beach taken from the hotel balcony
Happy New Year to everyone out there. May 2012 bring you everything you desire.
Every day I tell myself I have to start blogging again and every night I realize I’ve avoided it again. Not because I don’t want to do it, but because it means addressing my husband’s death. It’s five months now since Brian died and I still have days when I just fold into a heap and sleep and cry the day away. But mostly, I’m managing the normal things during the days, managing to stay on top of things. I know this grief thing is something I have to work through, but I didn’t realize it turns your brain to mush. I find myself having to write notes to remember things I have to do. Should see my office and kitchen. LOL I have yellow Post-It notes all over the place, but hey, it works.
I’ve even started writing again. My daily word counts are down compared to what they used to be, but it’s a start. I polished up a manuscript I’d finished before Brian became sick and sent it off to a couple of publishers. Now I just wait to see if they are interested. And in the meantime I’ve started working on another paranormal romance. Paranormal suits me at the moment because I can allow my emotions free reign in the darker paranormal moments of the story. Lighthearted and comedic is beyond me right now.
And in among all this, our daughter presented me with two lovely new grandsons, twins Xavier and Caleb. It was bittersweet because their granddad wasn’t here to see them, but my daughter swears her dad was with her during the birth.
Meet my new grandsons. Aren’t they delightful?
A proud big brother - all three of my grandchildren.
That’s me for the night. It’s getting late and I need to head to bed, but I promise to come back tomorrow with another little bit of good news I didn’t expect during this time.
It’s eight weeks today since Brian died. At times it feels like I’ve been living this nightmare for a lifetime, it’s so crippling. Other times if feels like it happened yesterday.
I’ve experienced the whole range of emotions. The overwhelming grief at losing my partner of thirty-nine years. The deep sadness. Depression. Anger. At God for allowing this to happen. At the surgeon who bungled the insertion of Brian’s portacath so he could start chemo and made his last three weeks an absolute misery. That anger festers inside me and until I find out exactly what happened in that operating theatre, I can’t release the anger.
We were told without chemo Brian would get six months. With chemo, the specialist said he would get nine good months before the cancer flared up again. Chemo was never going to be a cure, we knew that, but it would have given Brian more time and a better quality of life with less pain.
So instead of nine months, we got three weeks. It hardly seems fair. It wasn’t an easy death and I’m left with the horrendous memories of the fierce struggle Brian went through those last five hours. I doubt they’ll ever fade, but maybe the time will come when they are not sitting in the forefront of my brain and I can learn to live with them. One can only hope.
I’m facing something I had hoped I’d never have to face. My husband lost his battle with cancer and passed away on 21st February. We were given the diagnosis in mid December and we laid the groundwork for the inevitable, doing all the legal stuff and putting things in place, teaching me to drive around our town because my husband always did the driving, spending time together and with the children. You think you’re ready for it when it happens, but oh, how wrong that is. I don’t think you’re ever ready. The reality is so much more than you expect. It’s early days for me yet. I’m still very raw, my emotions close to the surface all the time. It makes me wonder how many tears a person can shed and still continue to produce them without running out.
So at the moment, it’s one day at a time. Sometimes, one minute at a time. I will get there, but it will take me time. I’m not back to writing yet, but that, too, will come once I get my head back together. In the meantime, I’m learning to start over again on my own. Strangely enough, cooking has been one of my downfalls. Without even thinking about it, I’m still cooking for two. After almost 39 years together, it’s a difficult habit to break. Hmm, maybe it’s time to get in some frozen meals and just zap them in the microwave.
I thought long and hard about this before I decided to post it, but I decided this was the best option. I want to apologize if I’m a little lax in updating my blog. My husband had been diagnosed with terminal oesophageal cancer that has spread to other parts of his body. At the moment, my time is ruled by the clock and when Brian has to take his next round of meds. If I’m a little slow in contacting people or writing on my blog, I’m sure you can understand why. Writing is difficult at the moment but I am still managing to get a bit done, even if it’s way below my normal daily total. I’m not certain how much time we have, but I plan to enjoy every moment that is given to us.