“You wanna do something fun?” my irascible, twinkly-eyed 10-year-old grandson asks.
Panic ensues on my end. What Neville calls fun is called alarming in my mind. Saying “yes” to him is like opening a can of worms. Worms that scoot out of the can and wiggle their way into the crevices of mischief. Continue reading
I spent five days in the hospital this week – not as a patient, but as a visitor, an observer, a worried spouse, and a woman who had preconceptions blown over by kindness, intelligence, and wonder.
But first with the worry.
I rushed my guy to the ER Friday afternoon after insisting on taking his temperature. Why oh why do men like to “play it cool” even when in obvious discomfort? I suppose the answer to that goes back millennium, maybe to the first cavemen. Continue reading
I’m still on a “head-heal” as I recover from a concussion, but I was a guest author last Tuesday on The Write Stuff, in which author/blogger Marcia Meara highlights a wonderful review by Annika Perry of my novel The Right Wrong Man. Hope you hop over and see what she has to say!
I could never get picked up in a bar, or even a high school gymnasium.
Not that I tried that often. I’m not a bar-hopping, party-loving kind of girl.
But still, most women, teenagers to octogenarians, want to feel attractive and desirable.
But even back when I was 16, when I hoped to catch the eye of a cute guy or two, I couldn’t even catch an eyelash, particularly – especially – of the one I had a huge crush. Continue reading
I didn’t normally respond to demands, especially demands by purple-wearing, soothsaying, weirdly-named psychics.
But at this point, I was more worried than peeved by Aurora’s “request” to visit her immediately. On my cell phone just minutes earlier, an on-line newspaper bleeped a headline: “Man found dead on quest to find Hal the Huntsman treasure.” (See last week’s From Dawn to Dusk.)
Was Todd the man found dead? Perhaps Aurora/Dawn truly could “see” the answer. Continue reading
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