The Unforgettable Vacation

It was only four days, three nights, but when you win an all expenses paid vacation to a mountain lodge and spa, you’re sure not going to turn it down, are you? And my friends thought I was crazy for entering so many contests. Ha!
It was in the hills above Los Angeles, a lovely four-story building that looked so warm and welcoming that I practically skipped as I followed the bellman to the front desk.I was treated like royalty being told I would have the Royalty Suite on the top floor and everything I required was included in my prize.
The suite was of an elegance of a time gone by, but with the comfort not known back then. I ignored the large flat screen TV for the view from the room that showed the lights starting to twinkle in the city below. I stood on my balcony inhaling the fresh scents of the surrounding forest.
Dinner was room service, food so succulent I moaned with delight and when my chocolate orgasm cake was served, well, let’s just say the cake was well named!
When I was offered the services of a relaxing massage after dinner, I wasted no time in accepting. Talk about a wonderful way to wind down my evening. Especially since the masseuse was named Gabe and had hands like you wouldn’t believe. Not to mention a few other talents that I was only too happen to receive. This was a true fantasy weekend for me and I intended to enjoy every second of it!
My days were filled with massages from Gabe, and well … you know, an herbal facial that I’m positive turned my skin to pure silk and time in the mineral springs behind the lodge that also did wonders for my peace of mind.
I was waited on hand and foot. It seemed I only had to think of what I wanted and it was there! And so was Gabe.
I only wished my time there had been longer, but it was time to return to reality and my boring job. I knew I couldn’t normally afford even one night at the lodge, so I think I’ll start entering more contests that offer cash prizes.
All my friends were so jealous of my getaway that when the lodge sent me a DVD of my weekend I invited them over for a viewing. I didn’t think there was anything on there featuring Gabe’s and my private time. And if there was, well, the man was truly built and they’d be so jealous of me!
We sat there with our wine while I turned on the DVD player and the credits showed the lodge. Except it didn’t look the way I remembered it. It looked worn and rundown. And inside wasn’t beautiful with plants and comfortable furniture, but cobwebs, dust and cracked wood. The front desk looked as if it hadn’t been used in years.
But it was when the pictures started showing me that I went into shock. The drop dead handsome Gabe was a skeleton wearing tattered clothing while I lay there chatting away and smiling at him. My sumptuous meals were unspeakable. The mineral springs were filled with dead animals, but you wouldn’t have known it if you’d looked at me. How could I have bene so blind?
As the DVD rolled to an end, the lodge front showed up again with a sign stating Closed 1871.
A friend turned off the DVD because I couldn’t stop screaming.
Even after I was released from the hospital I never entered another contest and I never took another vacation.

Diary of a Mad Romance Writer

When I gave my first talk as a published writer I had no clue what to say. Then the idea of a writer's diary came to mind and this was born. It's been updated over the years, but the basics never go out of style.And I also think I should some day write the Diary of a Paranormal Writer. Or let Fluff and Puff do it. :}

When I had started high school, I began the habit of keeping a diary. Little did I know that I was already acting out the guise of a frustrated writer! I kept up the writing habit until I married. Upon the advice of my mother, wise woman that she is, I destroyed all my diaries not long before my wedding. What a waste of perfectly good research material!

What would a romance writer's diary read like? Mary Poppins or Fanny Hill?

Dear Diary,I've been reading romance books for the past few months and have decided there's no reason why I can't write one of my own. After all, they can't be all that difficult to write, can they? I'll give myself three months. That should be more than enough time to dash one off. First order of business, buy a computer. After all, I'm a professional now.

Dear Diary,I've decided to work out a profile on my main characters. The man should be a combination of Harrison Ford, Jeremy Northam and Keanu Reeves. I thought I should be subtle the first time. After all the first time is very special to a woman, isn't it?

Dear Diary, I wrote the first page today-three times. In my first draft the location seemed all wrong. Alaska can be pretty cold in the middle of winter. The second time it just didn't sound right. And the third time everything finally fell into place. Every word was a gem in my eyes and I knew it was exactly what I wanted to say. Trouble was, my computer lost it all. I just hope I can recreate something so fantasic.

Dear Diary, I can't understand my heroine at all! She insists on acting like Molly Shannon. She just doesn't seem to understand that she's supposed to be a cross between Nicole Kidman and Charlize Theron.

Dear Diary, It's the big day. I wrote my first love scene. There's only one problem. I listened to soft music, lit candles, sipped a glass of white wine and even read the Kama Sutra. The love scene still didn't work out and I can't figure out where I went wrong! Oh well, I'll just wait until my husband gets home tonight. Perhaps I should add some vitamin E to his dinner. I have a feeling I'll need to do a lot of research.

Dear Diary, I've done it! My book is finished! It has everything it's supposed to have; the hero and heroine meet on the first page, the required love scnee and their declaring their love on the last page. There's only one teeny problem. It's only fifty pages. I guess I'll have to see where I can stretch it out.

Dear Diary, I read parts of my book to a few of my closest friends today. Unfortunately, they didn't get to hear all of it because two said they were on their way out to walk their dogs and the other suddenly remembered she had a dental appointment. Funny, I didn't know Janet and Carla had dogs.

Dear Diary, I've done it! I finished my book, all 300 hundred pages. I will admit it took a bit longer than I expected it to take. Actually, ten months over my estimated three months. Now it's in an envelope and ready to send off to a publisher. All I have to do now is sit back and wait for the royalties to roll in!

Dear Diary,I can't believe it! They actually turned my book down! They kept it there for eight months and then returned it saying that it didn't fit their guidelines and had too many cliches. What do they mean by that? I thought my story was pretty good.

You see it dealt with a 17 year old girl who is studying to be a nurse and falls in love with a 40 year old brain surgeon. He doesn't realize that her sister was secretly married to his brother and bore him a son not long before he was killed in the WAR and the sister then killed herself because she felt she couldn't go on and left the child to the heroine. Naturally, the hero thinks the child staying with the heroine is her son which naturally makes her a FALLEN WOMAN. When he does learn the child is also his nephew, he decides the girl can't take care of the baby by herself and insists if she doesn't marry him he'll have the child taken away from her. Naturally, the marriage will be in name only because she's too young for his jaded taste. She has no choice but to agree.

Also, she's been secretly in love with him since the first time she saw him at the hospital. He whisks her off to his country home run by his autocratic mother who had been hoping he would come to his senses and marry her best friend's bitchy daughter, who, by the way, hates children. Thanks to Mom and friend's daughter telling her how young and naive she is and she doesn't know how to dress properly or behave in a proper setting, the heroine easily believes she's all wrong for the hero and decides she must do the right thing by leaving him, so he can marry his mother's friend's daughter and have the kind of wife a man in his position should have.

The evening of a large party, he follows her to the garden gazebo where she's gone to think about her dark future. And there, he makes fierce love to her on a conveniently placed couch and expresses surprise to discover she's a virgin. He coldly assures her it won't happen again.

After this, she knows even more she has to leave and sneaks off taking her nephew with her and finds a job in another city. Quite a few months later, he tracks her down to find her heavily pregnant and singing in a piano bar and while the child is in the care of the landlady in the ramshackle rooming house they've been living in.

He immediately takes them back home. There, she learns his mother has been banished to Europe and they will begin their married life again because he admits he has always loved her. So you tell me what's so wrong with that? How can it be a cliche when I've read similar stories?Dear Diary, I've sent my book to six publishers and they all say the same thing. I do believe this is the time to find out exactly what I'm doing wrong by signing up for a writing class. At least, I'll find out what publishers consider a cliche.

Maybe I'll take a computer class too.

Girl Talk Monday -- The Perfect Black Shoe

Ever have one of those conversations with your husband that only another woman would understand?Him – “Why do you have so many pair of black shoes?”Her – “They’re necessary.”Him – “But they’re all black.” Holds up one pair in one hand and another pair in the other. “What’s the difference between these?”Her – “Those are casual sandals and those are dressy flats.”Him – “And these? Aren’t they casual sandals?”Her – “That second pair are my yucky casual sandals that I only wear around the house. The other pair I’ll wear out of the house.”Him – “Then why not throw out the yucky pair and wear the good casual ones all the time?”Her – “Duh! My good casual pair will wear out too fast.”Him – searching for aspirin – “And the dressy flats as compared to this pair of dressy heels, I suppose?”Her – “Oh no, those are my casual heels. The dressy heels are over there next to my dressy flats and dressy casual flats are there next to my dressy sandals.”Him – “But why are all of them black?”Her – “I’m set for every occasion that way.”Him – “And the colored shoes?”Her – “There’s times you don’t want to wear black shoes.”Him -- sighing – “So fine, you have twenty million pair of shoes to go with all that make up that one person can’t possibly wear.”Her giving him the duh look again – “You can’t wear the same lipstick, eyeshadow or blush with everything. It all has to go together.”Him – now in search of the hard stuff – “No wonder there’s no room in the closet or bathroom.”How about you? Does your husband sometimes do that to you? How quickly does it take to send his mind reeling while it’s all perfectly logical to you?
Mine still can't figure it out or the reason why I have four pair of black leather flip flops then we move on to the colors.

Campfire Stories

First off, my idea of camping out is a hotel that doesn't offer room service, but scary stories work for everything!

On to campfires, s'mores and scary stories!
Here we are, out in the woods, no human within 50 miles. So let’s sit around the fire and tell stories!

Hey! Put the marshmallows down! S’mores later. I got the flashlight and I’m telling the story. Although, maybe it’s not a story at all, maybe it’s the truth, cuz no one really likes to camp out here since IT happened.

They say an old man lives in a cabin about ten miles further up the mountain. He doesn’t like people and makes sure no one bothers him by covering the small road leading to his cabin with chunks of broken glass and razor blades. Rumor has it he had a secret road, but no one ever saw one.

Except one night a few years ago, a guy and girl from the high school ended up near his cabin when the guy’s car suddenly stopped for no apparent reason.

“There are lights up there.” Tess, a cute blonde petite cheerleader, pointed up the mountain. “Maybe they have a phone or can drive us back to town.”

Scott, the high school football team captain shook his head. “I forgot you didn’t grow up here. Old man Woody lives up there and he’s mean like a snake. Nobody goes up there. He doesn’t like people.”“We can’t walk back to town! It’s too far.” She climbed out of the car and absently pulled her top down.

Scott started to argue with her, but a sound among the trees caused him to look around.

“What was that?” Tess whispered.

“I don’t know.” He started to move toward the stand of trees to investigate, but Tess ran around the front of the car and grabbed his arm.

“Don’t leave me alone!”

“Fine, come with me."

"But a bear could be in there!”

“We haven’t had a bear sighting in years,” Scott scoffed.

Tess hung back.

“Fine, stay here.” Scott headed for the trees.

Tess chewed on a fingernail, vainly listening for any sound after he disappeared from view.

“Where are you?” she whispered, staring at the trees, willing him to return.

Her nerves were fraying fast when she heard an unearthly scream seem to wrap itself around her.

“Damn!” She scrambled for the car door but found it locked. She pulled on the handle as the screams intensified, but it didn’t budge.

Tess spun around when the trees seemed to separate and a shirt flew through the air and landed at her feet. She stared at the blood-stained polo shirt for a minute before she realized it was the shirt Scott had been wearing. She started screaming as she jumped backward even as an arm followed the shirt.

“Help!” She ran for the road and stumbled to her knees, gasping as the glass chunks and razor blades dug into her bare skin. She cut her hands as she scrambled to her feet and made her way up the road, hearing the unearthly screams behind her. “Help!”

She looked up at the cabin with its lights that looked like a sanctuary. The glass chunks shredded her flip-flops and halfway up she lost one sandal.

Tears ran down Tess’s face and she could feel the warm blood streaming down her hands and legs while the bottom of her feet were slowly but surely turned into hamburger. Tears clogged her nose and filled her throat as she gasped and choked during the climb.

“Please help me,” she begged, even though she doubted anyone could hear her by now.

Her voice cracked with each word. “Please.” Her brain seemed to stop on the one word.

She had no idea how long it took her to make the bloody painful trek up the road. When she reached the two steps leading to the cabin’s front door, she stumbled again and shrieked as she fell onto nails pounded point up on the wood.

“Help!” she screamed, finally reaching the door, blood shredded hand outstretched but the door slowly swung open.

Tess fell into the room and looked around. She gasped as she stared at a row of large jars. It took a moment for her to realize the jars held human heads and the one in front held … the head of … SCOTT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The police found Scott’s car the next afternoon. Bloodhounds refused to even sniff the bloodstained polo shirt and howled when they were directed toward the woods or even the road leading to the cabin.

But the cops were undeterred.

After all, Scott was the town sheriff’s son and finding only the boy’s arm was enough to put the man in the hospital.

Four days later, the search group found the hidden path leading up to the cabin’s back door

When they got there, the cabin was empty except for an empty-eyed Tess hugging a jar with Scott’s head inside.

And that’s why it’s not a good idea to camp out here.

Wow. Did you hear that?

Jazz and Nick Hang Out At the Full Moon Cafe

The ageless woman was the picture of pure goth in her black velvet gown that fit her like a glove, black lace fingerless mitts covering her hands that ended in blood red nails that matched her lipstick. Her dark eyes were lined with kohl pencil and appeared mysterious with their soul-stealing gaze. She sat in the chair as if it was a throne and fingered the tiny microphone clipped to the deep v neckline of her gown. She made a small gesture toward the vampire holding a camera and immediately smiled wide enough to display gleaming white fangs.

“Good evening, my dark of the night viewers. This is Drusilla with After Midnight Broadcasting and tonight we’re at the Full Moon Café with two special guests.“As you know, we love to hit the nightspots popular with the preternatural community and tonight we were lucky enough to connect with popular witch (a hint of sneer appeared on her perfect features since vampires aren’t too fond of witches no matter how popular they are) and curse eliminator, Jazz Tremaine and private investigator Nick Gregory. The two have been an item for the last 300 odd years. Hopefully, we’ll pick up some tasty tidbits from this couple as we talk to them about their unlives.”

Jazz, muttering – “Tasty tidbits, cute, Dru. And I have a life, thank you very much. Plus I don’t think Coby would appreciate being referred to as having an unlife.”

Dru flashed a hint of fang. “We all are grateful for Coby’s efforts to keep a neutral territory for our communities.”

Nick subtly nudged Jazz with the toe of his boot. She glared back then turned to the television celebrity with a snarky smile that outshone the vampire’s fangy beam.

Drusilla -- “Good evening, Jazz and Nick. It’s so nice to have this chance to talk to you two. Both of you have been so busy lately with adventures that rival anything you might read in a book, that I am truly amazed you’re both in one piece.” She stared at Jazz as if she’d hoped to see disfiguring scars while offering Nick a dazzling smile.

Jazz smiled back, definitely more venom showing. “Thanks for asking us, Dru.” She inwardly cheered at the vampire’s slightly pained expression since Drusilla preferred her full name used. Jazz looked warily at Nick’s coffee mug – “There’s no AB-neg in there, is there? Because I’m not even going to sit at the same table with you if you added something to it.”

Nick – looking a trifle pained – “No, just straight coffee and I’m not sharing. If you want more coffee, ask Coby for a refill.”Jazz – looking put upon – “He’ll come over here faster for you.”

Nick – raises voice – “Coby? Could Jazz have some more coffee please?”

The Were owner of the café, along with being a powerful pack leader for the area, walks over with the pot and tops off both mugs, but topping off Nick’s first. He ignored Drusilla’s wine glass that held a ruby red liquid that was more O-Pos than a nice Bordeaux.

Jazz – “Uh, ladies first?”

Coby – “Only when I see a lady.” He walks away.

Jazz – “Everyone picks on the witches.” Raises voice. “You wouldn’t have wards around this place if it wasn’t for us.”

Coby – calling back – “Wizards set them up, sweetheart.”Nick – chuckles – “No, they just pick on you because you’re so much fun to pick on.”

Drusilla, determines to keep control of the interview. “You two have been together for the last 300 years. Exactly how did you two meet?”

Nick – “I worked for the Protectorate at the time and was chasing down a Comte in Venice that was a rogue vampire.

Jazz was working for him as a personal maid for his wife.”Jazz – “The woman was a major slob.”

Nick – “Jazz was also accused of stealing the Comte’s wife’s jewels and was to be tortured as punishment. He loved to inflict major pain on his servants for the least infraction. Jazz was very lucky since I saved her from his whip.”

Jazz, shaking her head and rolling her eyes – “He called it a whip. I called it a speck of thread that a woman wouldn’t look at twice. Not to mention if he’d tried burying his fangs in me he would have been in for a big surprise. A witch’s blood being poisonous to a vampire is a definite plus.”

Nick – Then perhaps I should have let him bite you. It would have saved me having to destroy him.”Jazz – coos – “Ah, but then you couldn’t have saved the poor innocent little maid, could you?”

Nick shot her a look that indicated he didn’t view her all that innocent.

Drusilla cut in before she lost total control of the interview – “Tell me something, Nick. What do you feel is Jazz’s best quality? After all, witches and vampires don’t get along for many good reasons. Why would you have a relationship with her this long when it’s known vampires are the far superior race.”

Jazz – hackles now up – “Hey!”

Nick – ignoring the mini tantrum -- “One thing you have to say about Jazz is that she’s loyal to her friends to the extreme. She’s there to help out no matter what. But if you cross her, watch out, because she cannot only eliminate curses she can call up some doozies. And one of her closest friends specializes in revenge curse. Not to mention Fluff and Puff, her magick bunny slippers are good at getting even on her behalf.”

Jazz points her finger at him. “One time. Just the one.”

Nick – “They were my favorite boots and they turned them into leather jerky!”Drusilla automatically checked out her black satin Christian Louboutin pumps. If her lungs worked she would have drawn a breath of relief there were no fuzzy bunny slippers near her toes.

Jazz frowns at Nick. “You could have said I’m gorgeous, sexy, even smell good.”Nick – “That’s a given.”

Drusilla – “And Jazz, what do you see as Nick’s best quality?”

Jazz – sipping her coffee and nibbling on a piece of chocolate cream pie Coby left for her – “It’ll sound schmaltzy, but he really is an all around good guy. I know for a fact he was an excellent enforced for the Protectorate, but as far as I’m concerned, he’s an even better private investigator for preternaturals. Creatures know they can count on him to get the job done.”

Nick chuckles – “She’s such a romantic.”

Jazz chimes in -- “Don’t ask me what he doesn’t like about me.”

Drusilla – very interested in that statement -- “Why not?”

Jazz – “I probably wouldn’t like what he’d have to say.”

Nick ignores her – without hesitation – “Stubborn, tends to act without thinking, she inserts fashionably shod foot in mouth on a regular basis, has pissed off at least one member in every community, … “

Coby speaks up -- “You got that right.”

Jazz – “Hey! Our interview, not yours. You want to be interviewed flash those pearly fangs at Drusilla and maybe she’ll slot in you at the next full moon.”

Nick – nods – “’Nuff said about her attitude. But her good qualities do overtake the bad.”

Jazz, outraged – “I don’t have any bad qualities!”

Nick – burying his nose in his coffee – “And the witch’s nose grows yet again.”Jazz automatically touches her nose and finds it the same pert size it was before.

Jazz – “Fine, I love you because you do what’s right, you refuse to allow anyone, even me, to push you around, you are sexy as Hades, you look out for the little guy whether he’s vamp or even a troll, which, by the way, I wouldn’t assist for all the gold in the world. Nasty little guys.” She forks up a bite of pie and stuffs her mouth. “But there are times I wish you’d talk more.”

Nick – “About what?”

Jazz – “Everything.” She gives him THE LOOK as in you know very well what I mean. “Everything’s going so well for us now.”

Drusilla, still struggling to control the interview and seeing it swept out of her hands. “The two of you were in the supernatural news for destroying a serial killer of vampires and later on for killing a powerful wizard along with working to protect Fluff and Puff.” She glances around with a wary look as if saying their names would conjure them up. “They’re not here with you, are they?”

Jazz – “No, they’re home. Or at least, they should be.”

Drusilla continues to look around, just in case. Her shoes were new and she meant to keep them that way for as long as possible. “Do you really believe it’s safe for you to go against such powerful beings? You’re just one witch and while Nick is very strong, is it all right to expect his assistance so much?”

Jazz – “We’re here and they’re not. That’s good enough for me.” She stared at her now empty plate, obviously considering a second piece.

Nick – “We do make a good team.” He made eye contact with Coby and the Were brought over another helping of pie. Jazz flashed him a dazzling smile, but Coby didn’t smile back.

Jazz – digging into her pie – “Still, you’d think after 300 years we’d be, well, more together.”

Drusilla, looking at them both – “Together how?”

Nick – “Hard to do when you threaten to stake me.”

Jazz – ready to defend herself – “I only do that when you state you’d rather I was on the other side of the universe.”

Nick – “If you wouldn’t get into trouble so much I wouldn’t have to bail you out.”

Jazz – “Excuse me? You never bail me out! You’re always having me thrown in jail instead on some trumped up charge!”

Nick – “It’s the only way I can keep your cute little ass safe!”

Jazz opens her mouth then closes it again – “So you do think it’s cute and little.”

Nick – sighs – “Yes, even when you’re a pain in mine. Maybe there’s a story there. I’m meant to keep you out of trouble.”

Jazz – “I never get into trouble! Well, okay a few times. All right, more than a few, but I can get myself out of it without any help.”

Nick – shakes head as he gets up – “You keep that up and pretty soon your nose will be dragging on the ground.”

Jazz makes sure there’s no pie left on the plate as she hops to her feet. “What is this with my nose! Sure, I’ve had my bad days, but I’ve never been a wooden puppet!” She waits while Nick pays the bill then they head to the door as if they’d forgotten that a stunned Drusilla still sat in her chair.

Nick -- could be heard to say -- “Maybe you should have been a puppet. Then when need be you could be locked in a box.”

Jazz – hot on his heels – “You keep thinking that way and you’ll be sleeping alone for a couple centuries!”

Nick – flashes her a hot look that even includes a hint of fang – “I love it when you threaten me.” He hooks his arm around her neck and pulled her toward him for a kiss that heated up the whole area.

Drusilla stands up, adjusting her gown and saunters over to Coby. – “Jazz and Nick are very definitely an odd couple. What about you, Coby? Is it really true that the Full Moon Café is neutral territory?”

Coby shrugs as he idly wipes off the counter – “Most of the time.”

What about you? What would you ask Jazz and Nick? Could you keep control of the interview better than Drusilla did or would you just let them go on in hopes of hearing way more than they might want to let on?

When Your Brain is on Overload

I’m finishing up my revisions for The Best Hex Ever. Sometimes revisions are miserable and you slog through them, and sometimes, like this time, they’re totally fun. The characters have made it fun, so I go through my editorial notes and mutter “oh yeah!” and weave more humorous layers into the story.

Revisions are a necessary evil. The author is way too close to the book and there could be scenes that need smoothing out or fleshing out or tightening. A slow scene that should be cut or changed. That’s where the editor comes in and sees what you miss.

Then there’s times you’re working on one book while one, or three, are competing for your attention.

That’s what’s happening to me now. I have my next Hex book after this along with some young adult ideas that I have to write.

Yes, have to write because there are characters in there that are having a party inside my head. They don’t want to stay in my imagination, they want their worlds related out there and I’m more than happy to do that.

Except, there’s those pesky revisions to finish. Luckily, they’re almost done, so I can move on.

Of course, that means when I’m revising another book I’ll be going through the same thing. Characters will chatter away inside my head and story ideas will float around. Chocolate doesn’t shut them up; only writing about them.

So what happens to you when your brain is on overload?

Girl Talk Monday -- Manis and Pedis

I’ve had acrylic nails for years. It’s just easier that way and I love experimenting with color on my nails.

After all my hands should look nice at book signings. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

But I think it’s also an extension of my personality. At least the colors are.

Like with anything else I go through stages of wearing pale roses or peaches for awhile, then on to brighter corals. Christmas and Valentine’s Day means a gorgeous red. And yes, Halloween is usually orange with a swipe of black on my ring fingers.

My husband is never sure what to expect and my favorite color is one that, well, he just shakes his head. It’s an OPI dark dark purple that looks black. Actually, it matches my SUV and it wasn’t intentional. I see it as a nice basic color. That and a China Glaze color that’s a silvery lavender. Or as my husband says “you’re not 19 anymore.” Hm, not a safe thing for any husband to say, is it?

And pedis. Oh yes! It’s said they’re excellent for foot health, but they’re also a great way to relax. The bubbling hot water, the foot and leg massage with scented lotion, and you just sit there and enjoy it all. At least, I do. My manicurist uses this great easy chair so you feel like you’re at home. Cheryl knows how to make her clients feel special.

There’s times when we need that time to ourselves and feel a bit pampered. Do you indulge in manis and pedis? Have that ‘me’ time? And are there certain colors that you prefer or do you go with the trends?

Linda