Tuesday, March 31, 2015

March 31st 2015

Hi, it’s Christina –

Good Morning! Today’s blog is completely personal. It has NOTHING to do with writing, marketing, books, Tweets, there won’t even be a writing challenge today. So, if you want to stop reading now, I totally understand.

(The photos are not quite synced up to the paragraphs, but you'll get the idea.)

Yup, these were like mine - not that I
would be photographed in them.
Picture if you will, it’s 1978, the height of loud bands, lava lamps, psychedelic posters, and “what was I thinking?” fashion. Now imagine a twelve year old girl with rose tinted coke-bottle glasses, frizzy dark red hair, not the clearest skin, and a big mouth, trying to navigate her first day of middle school in a brand new town.

My glasses are in my lap.
If you look close you can
see the dents from them on
my nose.
Got the image? Not overly appealing is it? Fast forward to ninth period, the last period of the never-ending school day, and it’s gym class. Gym class where for the very first time you were required to change clothes, in a locker room, in front of roughly forty, not so nice, cliquey girls who have all known each other since pre-school. (Back then you were born and raised in our small town, and if someone new moved in, they must have been an alien from outer space.)

Not really my gym class, but you get
the picture
Thanks to thirty second changing abilities as the rest of the girls made their way to the gymnasium, I was able to survive the ordeal without having to crawl under a rock. So there I was, sporting terry cloth short-shorts, a matching (fabric wise if not color wise) shirt, knee high tube sock – complete with three stripes (two weren’t cool), and brand spanking new, could be seen from space, white Keds (we couldn't afford Adidas). Yup, I was the fashion plate.

I manage to make it to where everyone else was seated, thankfully without tripping and landing on my coke-bottles, and sat – slightly off to the side because of course no one would make room for the new girl by them – and I observed the class. My first thought was, wow some of these kids are big. Little did I know at the time, we were the only mixed grade gym class.

The gym teacher voice boomed through the room, causing a burning behind my eyes. I had never in my life seen such a large, frightening woman. She reminded me of Bela Karolyi in drag. I prayed the gym floor would open up and swallow me whole.

Then, because I was too busy being terrified, I completely missed what the Amazon said, and had to scramble to catch up with the class. Thank God she hadn’t scared my deductive reasoning abilities out of me, and I was able to properly line up with the other girls on the north wall of the gym. The boys were line up on the south.

The lines began to move eastward along the walls, then turned toward the middle where each boy and girl was paired up. As I shuffled forward, I kept eyeing the door on the east wall, and wondering if anyone would notice if I slipped out, but a move so bold would have required courage, and after the day I’d already endured, bravery was in short supply.

As luck would have it, the string of boys my age ended a few girls before me, and I was paired up with one of the ninth grade boys. He was taller than me, which wasn’t a difficult thing to be, I believe the proper word back then was husky, and was turning several shades of red. Okay, he may be older, but he wasn’t liking this any better than I was, so at least I had someone to hopefully commiserate with.

Next the Amazon with the megaphone voice started barking more orders and I began to wonder if they spoke a different type of English from my previous New Jersey town. My confusion must have shown on my face, because the guy next to me, mumbled something. As much as I hated to, I had to ask him to repeat what he said. For a nanosecond, he looked me in the eye, blurted “Square Dancing” then looked away.
Cheri took this picture of us

Mother of God! This is gym class! We’re supposed to be playing kick ball or dodge ball or having scooter races, not square dancing. What kind of cockamamie town did my mother move me to? That door along the east wall was looking better and better.

We were herded into groups of eight, and told to square off. Obviously I was the only one in the room who had absolutely no clue what I was supposed to be doing. My only consolation was none of the other kids looked all that happy about having to dance.

One of many parties at my 1st
The music began, the Amazon began to squawk out commands, and everyone obeyed, except me. My partner took pity on me and dragged me along through the steps. When the time came to promenade, and I had to take his hands, I was met a with sweaty, clammy, mess. As nervous, and as embarrassed as my painfully shy partner was, he was still trying to help me.

Well, we made it through that God awful day, and the next three weeks of square dancing. By the end of it, we had become friends. He would look in my eyes when we spoke to each other, and his hands were dry when we needed to promenade.

Since he was in 9th grade, and I was in 7th, that 9th period gym class was the only time I would get to see him. Then June came, school was out, and the next year he was going to the high school. I would probably never see my first friend in my new town ever again.

Fast forward to August the following year, to the summer between 8th and 9th grade. I have made a very best friend, Cheri, and she played a saxophone, and was going to be in the high school marching band. Since the two of us were inseparable, I went with her to band camp at the high school. I sat on the sidelines, watched, and fell in love. Yup, I’m a total dork, but I thought marching band was the coolest thing in the world.

Believe it or not, this picture was taken
right before I got ready for the date.
Check out our wallpaper...
The only problem was, I didn’t know how to play an instrument, I couldn’t read music, and I was fairly certain I had some form of impairment because right & left confused me to no end. The band director didn’t have an issue with all my shortcomings, and even helped me to decide on an instrument. So my entire freshman year, I went to every band practice, every game, and every competition, even though I was just learning how to play the flute, and everyone else in the band had been playing since 4th grade. I had some serious catching up to do.

Our engagement picture
Back to August and band camp. Yup, you guessed it, my square dance partner, was in the band. He played trumpet. The friendship proved fortuitous, because whenever the freshmen were told to do any of the grunt work, he, an upperclassman, would say "not you two" to my best friend and me, and we’d be able to avoid the abuse.

Over the next few years, we were in the same circle of friends, so we were together quite often. His best friend, Kevin, “adopted” me as his little sister, and me, an only child loved having a big brother. Kevin and I were inseparable as well. We were best buds, but that was all, just best buds.

March 31, 1990
June of 1982 rolled around, and Kevin and my square dance partner, Paul, graduated high school. Kevin went off to the Marines, and my partner went to community college. Kevin would write me every day, and come to visit whenever he was on leave. During one of those leaves, my friend Lisa confessed to me she had a huge crush on Kevin, and begged me to set them up. Being a good friend, I did.

BUT, my “brother” had a stipulation. He would only go out with Lisa if we went on a double date, with Paul. I loved Lisa dearly, and I loved my “big brother”, and I KNEW they would be perfect together, but there was no way in H.E. double hockey sticks I was going on a date with Paul. Paul, my “brother’s” best friend, Paul the trumpet player, Paul, my square dance partner; he was a friend and nothing more, and I had seen him exactly once since he graduated high school.
Our 1st addition - PJ

Lisa’s tears had me relenting, but believe me, she got an earful the whole time we were getting ready. Whatever, I could live through a movie and then getting some ice cream at Bricken’s afterwards, but that was it. Deal done. Obligation complete. Lisa and Kevin would be together, and I could go on my merry way.

What do they say about best-laid plans?
St. Maartin - our 1st "Why the heck
did we get married?" weekend.

Well, twenty-five years ago today, I married Paul. Paul, my “brother’s” best friend, Paul the trumpet player in the marching band, Paul, who with the aid of my “brother”, dragged me, kicking and screaming, into the back (3rd) practice room in the band room and proceeded to give my sixteen spanks on my 16th birthday, Paul, my 7th grade square dance partner.
Our family grew...

Over the past thirty-seven years, we have had good times and bad. We’ve laughed, cried, and fought – it gets real ugly around here when the Giants play the Cowboys. We moved from an apartment to a condo to a house, and we managed without killing each other. We survived raising three children. He puts up with my strong personality, my less than June Cleaver housekeeping skills, and my harebrained ideas.

... and grew
We are still polar opposites, and we don’t see eye to eye on much, yet somehow we’re making it work. I give full credit to our “Why the heck did we get married?” weekends. Every 12 – 18 months, since our son, our first born, was two, Paul and I spend a long weekend away, just the two of us. Our friends and family teased us about this, but now, twenty-five years later, most of them understand how important those “us” times were.

Now, as our last little chick starts to prepare to leave the nest, we know when she’s gone, we’ll still be okay. We will find things to do together, because even after all these years, we still like each other, we laugh together, and we still enjoy each other’s company. A rare and beautiful gift for sure, and with God’s grace, I will be able to do this same type of blog post when we are celebrating our 50th Anniversary.

Our 1st WtHDWGM? weekend
Okay, just to tie up some loose ends for you, before I go. 1) “The Amazon” – actually turned out to be one of the nicest people, and now as an adult I realize she’s not all that large – 5’9” perhaps. 2) Square dancing ended up being one of my favorite gym activities, though they no longer have it as part of the school curriculum. 3) Although I don’t get to see her ever, I’m still friends with Cheri, and she was even one of the bridesmaids at our wedding. 4) Lisa and Kevin ended up getting married, but unfortunately it didn’t work out, but they have two beautiful daughters and they remain good friends. 5) Our next “Why the heck did we get married?” weekend is going to be the first week in June, a cruise to Bermuda, an anniversary gift from my mother.

Tuesday, March 24, 2015

March 24th 2015 Challenge

Hi, it’s Christina –

Good Morning! How have y’all been? I feel like I haven’t chatted with you in ages. Sorry about that, it’s been a little hectic around here, but what else is new, right?

Today’s blog is going to be a little different. A special little treat for you…

As has happened several times before, through social media I have found a real friend, a kindred spirit, and I would like to introduce her to you. Please meet author Lizabeth Scott

Lizabeth Scott… in her own words…

In middle school I discovered my first romance novel by Emily Loring. I quickly read everything “romance” my small town library had on its shelves. I needed more, so with the bravery and/or ignorance of youth, I began to write my own stories. Just for me, nobody even knew that I was writing. 

Years go by and writing became dormant as my life evolved. Other things like school, husband, and children took precedence in my life. But through it all, my love for reading never dimmed. I was and still am a voracious reader. I can never get enough!

Our two children are now grown and out on their own and that little spark that had been in hibernation for years began to sizzle and then burst into blazing flames. Thanks to a Facebook friendship with my favorite author of all times, I began to write at her prompting. Just a scene at first, I was actually shocked that is wasn’t too bad. 

It happened slowly. The more I wrote, the more I loved it. No one was more surprised than I was when months later I finished my first book. And absolutely no one was more surprised than I was when I published Sweet Surrender.

Currently I am working a full time job, squeezing writing in when I can, and dreaming of one day…


Lizabeth is well on her way to fulfilling that dream. She has two different series, The Royal Vow & Hearts of Gold. Royal Vow starts off with Sweet Royal Beginnings – A FREE Novella. (You know how much I like a bargain – and with it being FREE, you can check out her writing style to see if you like it.) The link to it, as well as all of Lizabeth’s books, can be found under the photos. Below is a brief blurb about each of her books.

Royal Vow Series

SweetRoyal Beginnings - Jane & Mike

Sweet Royal Beginnings
Abandoned at birth, Jane Smith didn’t have much experience with the elusive emotion of love. Frankly, she didn’t even believe that any such emotion existed. After all she had gotten along just fine all on her own for twenty some years. She certainly didn’t need some obnoxious, over inflated, egotistical man coming into her world and turning it upside down.

“Mike” thought entirely too highly of himself, and Jane was one woman that would not fall at his feet just because he was a prince (and probably the most handsome man she had ever seen in her life). His strong broad shoulders and dark brown hair or his midnight blue eyes did nothing for her, nor did his whiskey smooth accent send messages of warning to her female parts.

Sweet Surrender – Mari & Ki 

Sweet Surrender
Small town waitress, Mari Roe, can’t believe the tall, dark, and tasty guy that just walked into her restaurant. There is something about him that makes her lose all reason. When he invites her to join him on the remainder of his business trip, Mari puts her foot down. Someone like him is only interested in someone like her for one reason.

Prince Kiliad SuMartra can’t believe his eyes when a feisty harem girl accosts him in the parking lot of a greasy spoon restaurant. Mari excites him in ways that he has never experienced before. He is totally smitten by her gentleness and innocence. Keeping his identity from her is a decision that he may live to regret.

Sweet Denial – Ella & Zahir 

Sweet Denial
Ella had loved Prince Zahir secretly since she'd met him at her sister’s wedding. She'd thought he'd felt the same way, only to have her heart crushed when he chose another. For years she avoided him at all costs. She tried to move on, but it just wasn’t in the cards. When circumstances brought them back together, Ella found out some hard truths. Could she forgive him? Could they start over? Or had too many secrets spoiled what might have been?

Zahir made the decision to send her away for her own good. It was the hardest thing he had ever done. He spent years secretly watching over her until he thought she was ready for what he had to offer. Did he make the biggest mistake of his life? By never revealing his secrets could he have lost the love of his life? He refused to accept that. He must prevail and convince Ella that what they felt for each other was too strong to ignore.

Sweet Seduction – Kassie & Taj  

Sweet Seduction
Kassie had no time in her life for Prince Tajeria SuMartra. Her focus had to be on helping her mom raise her four younger sisters and keep their business going. So, when Prince Taj literally knocked her off her feet, she couldn’t understand why she allowed him into her life and into her arms.

Taj knew the moment he saw Kassie that she would somehow change his life. The only problem was she ran away before he could even get her name. The second time their paths crossed he not only found out her name but also the location of her family’s bakery. Now he had to get Kassie to admit that what they had together was more than just a passing attraction.

Sweet Temptation – Chellie & Siran COMING SOON

With exams over, Chellie was on her way to Cabo with her college roommate to celebrate the end of their junior year until her roommate had to cancel. After driving for hours to get to her parents’ house, she was only interested in falling into her bed and sleeping around the clock. What she didn’t expect was to have her fantasy dream come to life and derail her future. Her one night of passion cost her the respect of her parents and friends, ended her college career, and made her boss think she was an easy target. What that one magical night gave her was her most precious possession.

Siran had quite the playboy image as the fourth SuMartra son. He worked hard, and he played hard. If you believed everything written about him, he had a different woman every week, drank to excess, and loved the fast life. So of course he took advantage of the warm and willing body in the bed he fell into to sleep off his drunken stupor.

Hearts of Gold Series

A Sheik for Rose
Rose overheard her boss, the only reason they chose her to represent Royston Oil was because Sheik Rashid had a thing for blonde busty women. Instead of getting angry at their obvious stereotyping she decided to show them a thing or two. She would get the Sheik's signature on the oil processing rights by using nothing more than her skills and intelligence. It was time she shook up the “Old Boy’s Club.”

What Rose hadn’t planned on was the infuriating rudeness of Sheik Rashid. But, she had a plan. He had cancelled on her for the last time. Little did Rose know, but her plan would lead to a night of unrivaled sensuality and pleasure at the hands of one annoying Sheik.


Okay, so now we come to the real reason behind this blog post. Lizabeth’s BRAND NEW book A Star for Annie is coming out Wednesday, April 1st, on our SHARED birthday. How cool is that? She gets to release a book on her birthday, and I get to ask for the book as a birthday present (I dropped a not so subtle hint to my hubby.)

A Star for Annie
Come on board The Carter Ryan - World Storm Tour with an all access backstage pass. Go behind the scenes and become part of crew who take the world by storm!

Dr. Sylva Ann Gold found herself without a job and music’s headliner Carter Ryan discovered he needed a nanny for his daughter. But not just any nanny, he wanted Dr. Gold.

Annie and Carter jumped on the tour bus and clashed at every bump in the road, the chemistry between them became impossible to ignore. An innocent slip of the towel and their attraction finally reached the boiling point.

Were they victims of circumstance, or was there something more?


Sweet Royal Beginnings, as I said, is a novella, and it’s only around 50 pages. Sweet Surrender is a little over twice as long, but the remaining books are in the 155-165 page range. They are all $2.99 (except the free novella). They are all intended for mature audiences, so don’t let the “sweet” name or sweet covers mislead you (like what happened on my book, A Second Chance).

You can find Lizabeth's books on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Apple iTunes, Google Play, Kobo. Her website will give you excerpts from each of the books, as well as links to her blog, Twitter and Facebook page.

Oh, and by the way, the third book in Lizabeth’s Hearts of Gold series, A Cowboy for Mary, will be coming out soon as well – so you won’t have to wait too long.

I don’t know about you, but all of these look fabulous. Obviously I won’t be able to get through the whole Royal Vow series before my birthday, but I will definitely try to squeeze in A Sheik for Rose between now and then.

As always, when I’ve been away from y’all for a while, my first day back’s blog tends to be lengthy, so I will stop this here. I’ll check back soon and update you on what’s happening in my world and with the actual link to A Star for Annie.

I hope you have a fantastic day, and happy writing!

Your Next Challenge is:

Don’t let her get away…

You have ten minutes (be honest). There is no right or wrong, just write. Spelling and punctuation don’t count, and NO ONE is allowed to criticize what someone else has written. Go.

Tuesday, March 17, 2015

March 17th 2015

Hi, it’s Christina –

Good Morning! Happy St. Patrick’s Day & Happy Birthday to my wonderful Mother in law!

So I survived another trek back and forth to Vermont. It’s a six hour drive, that includes several potty breaks, so it’s not too terrible. Believe it or not, I actually enjoy the long drive alone, no conversation, no radio. My family thinks I’m crazy, but they don’t realize I spend that time listening to my characters.

Yesterday I got to meet Beau Chamberlain. He inherited his grandma Maddie’s B&B on the lake in Colson Creek, Georgia. I also met Jeb Culpepper, the town’s deputy, boy that man can talk – talkative Georgia cop, gee I wonder how that character came to be?? LOL. They told me all about this big corporation, Elite Resorts International, who wanted to come in and buy the B&B, and the surrounding land, so they could build a spa retreat.

Then Talia (Taming Tate) elbowed her way in to tell me about a strange incident on the ranch. Olivia was in a snit because her brother still refused to introduce her to the new hunky football player, so she was planning a scheme to get the job done (no title yet); and finally Kieren (Faerie Tale Queen) started pitching a fit because all she’s waiting for is her HEA.

I’m just happy Robert and Blake (Simply by Chance) didn’t jump in on the bandwagon. I’m thinking, with NaNoWriMo only two weeks away, they were all vying for top billing. It was quite funny actually, because at one point they were arguing with each other. Yup, my head can be a scary place. LOL

Okay, I have to go start the corned beef. I’m going to try doing it in the crock pot this year. I’m working today, so that’s the only way I can think to get it done before seven. We’re celebrating Mom’s birthday over at my sister-in-law’s, and I’m in charge of the corned beef and cabbage. This year I’m also making the birthday cake, strawberry short cake, so I need to get that baked as well before I have to leave. Translation – I need to get my butt in gear.

I hope you have a marvelous day, and happy writing!

Your Next Challenge is:

As luck would have it…

You have ten minutes (be honest). There is no right or wrong, just write. Spelling and punctuation don’t count, and NO ONE is allowed to criticize what someone else has written. Go.

Monday, March 9, 2015

March 9th 2015 Challenge

Hi, it’s Christina –

Good Morning! It’s been a few days since I have constructed a blog post, and to be honest, it’s not easy going today either, but I felt obligated. No reason, I’m just tired. It’s been a crazy few days.

On Thursday, during the blizzard, I headed up to Vermont to pick up my daughter because it was the start of her spring break. It probably would have made a world more sense to leave on Friday, after the storm had passed, but I knew doing a one day round trip would have wrecked me.
I did have my “Jesus take the wheel” moment while driving up. I was headed north on Route 287, a major three lane highway in New Jersey. I was in the middle lane, tootling along at 35 mph, in the two narrow tire strips of clean pavement, when I neared a truck from Alabama. It was throwing up so much slush and snow, I moved over into the fast lane so I would have an empty lane between us. Then the truck decides to move over into the middle lane. I can’t speed up because it’s not safe – I pushed it at 38 to no avail, but was not willing to go faster. I could not slow down because then I would be getting the full brunt of the slush flying off the truck. Basically, I was stuck, white-knuckled, and none too happy, just behind the cab of the truck.

That is when the rocket scientist of a truck drive decided he wanted to come into the fast lane. A) Trucks are NOT allowed in the fast lane in New Jersey, and B) The lane was OCCUPIED! He began to cross into my lane, and kicked up enough muck to completely cover my windshield, effectually blinding me. Instinctively, I began to swerve to the left, onto the unplowed left buffer, to avoid the truck, and flipped my wipers on high so I could see. The windshield cleared just in time for me to correct my trajectory and avoid hitting the cement median by inches. By the grace of God alone, I was able to maintain control of my vehicle on the icy snowy road.

The truck driver must have realized his error, because by the time I righted myself, he was several car lengths behind me, and moving over to the slow lane. Thankfully, the rest stop was only a few more miles away, and I would be able to pull over and compose myself.

Southerners, I love you, truly I do, but y’all should seriously reconsider crossing the Mason-Dixon line during the winter months. You are ill-equipped to handle the treacherous driving conditions.

It was very strange, the snow did not cross the state line. It was snowing like crazy in NJ, but when I crossed over into NY, nothing. WooHoo! Perhaps I would reach Vermont hail and whole after all.

As I was getting off the exit, I kept hearing this unusual scraping noise, and it was becoming increasingly more difficult to steer the car. I’m thinking – just what I need, car trouble, during a blizzard, and over two and a half hours away from home. Just ducky!

I maneuver my car into a spot, in the blessedly covered parking deck, and get out to have a look. I’m not mechanically inclined, however I was praying for it to be something obvious, and easily repairable. It was blatantly obvious what the problem was, and in hindsight, I wish I had snapped a picture before I corrected the problem. All four of my tires were completely encrusted with snow. It was packed solid into the wheel wells, and was scraping against the tires. I pulled a photo off the internet to show you what I mean, but my car was much worse than the photo.

For the next twenty minutes, I kicked at the bumpers and the running boards trying to displace the snow, and I managed to get about 80% of it off. There were sections under the running boards that were just solid ice, and no matter how much I kicked, it wasn’t budging, so I gave up.

When I pulled out of the Sloatsburg Rest Stop, my nerves had calmed, the car was driving well again, and the snow had stopped. Two hours later, I was cruising up Route 87, at a more road eating pace of 68mph, when a Jeep Cherokee from – you guessed it – Alabama, slams on his breaks right in front of me. I swerve into the left lane (there was very little traffic, and we were all traveling in the slow lane, so I knew there was no one on my left), and then I realize why the Cherokee driver hit his brakes – a NY state trooper, decided to swing a Uie at one of the breaks in the median. Now I’m thinking the trooper isn’t going to stop, and pull right into traffic, so I swerve back into the right lane.

Good grief! Unless you are traveling through Hazard County and Roscoe P. Coltrane is on duty, no state trooper is going to pull you over for going THREE miles over the speed limit. (My cruise control was set at exactly 68 and we had been traveling at that exact speed for over half an hour when the clown slammed on his brakes.)

I had my hand on my chest, trying to keep my heart from beating thorough my chest when the state trooper drove past me. He looked over, rolled his eyes and sped off shaking his head. I’d like to think he was referencing the guy hitting his brakes and not me, considering he didn’t pull me over.

By the time I got to Vermont – which was beautiful sunny blue skies and 17°, I had had enough. I picked up soup and sandwiches from Panara, Lys and I had an early dinner, and I was sound asleep by 9:30.

The next morning, I felt SO bad. I was exhausted, plus I have a little bit of a cold, and my daughter told me I kept her up because I was snoring. How embarrassing. I asked her why she didn’t throw something at me to make me wake up and stop. She said because she knew how tired I was. I felt terrible. She couldn’t sleep because of me, and she had two classes to go to before we could leave. It’s four days later and I still feel guilty about it.

Saturday, Lys spent twelve hours making her cousin’s birthday cake. Here’s a photo of her latest masterpiece. The child has a definite flair for cake decorating. Yesterday my maid of honor and her sister came over for brunch. We had a blast! Then yesterday afternoon we had my nephew Max’s and Lys’ combined birthday party over at my sister-in-law’s. Today, I’m whooped. Thank goodness I have nowhere I have to be, and nothing I have to do today, because honestly, I don’t have the energy.
Okay, I have rambled on long enough for one day. I hope you have a marvelous day, and happy writing!

Your Next Challenge is:

Use the following “Friends were things of the past, of his other life.” Bonus points if you either start or finish your challenge with the sentence.

Quote taken from Man Hunt by K. Edwin Fritz – available on Amazon.

You have ten minutes (be honest). There is no right or wrong, just write. Spelling and punctuation don’t count, and NO ONE is allowed to criticize what someone else has written. Go.

Tuesday, March 3, 2015

March 3rd, 2015 Challenge

Hi, it’s Christina –

Good Morning! Okay, all the “I told you so” folks are free to take a shot at me. I went into this whole Twitter campaign kicking and screaming, and if I’m honest, I still find it a bit prodigious. BUT I’m getting a real kick out of it now.

Yesterday was a banner day. I received 87 new followers, I had retweets from 190 DIFFERENT people, 58 of which were retweeting my books or my blog, and almost every single one of them retweeted multiple times. There are more folks whose books are on my shelves, or their movies are in my DVD collection, who are now following me. Me, a mom from New Jersey who happens to be a hopeless romantic and decided to jot down a few stories. It blows my mind!

It also has put a whole new phase of pressure on me. I have an overwhelming feeling of needing to measure up – to be worthy of all these new followers – to be able to give sage advice to these new authors who are seeking it – to be able to stand shoulder to shoulder with other authors I admire. Good God, it’s petrifying. I truly have moments where I doubt myself, my writing abilities. I’m hoping this is a normal feeling, and perhaps when one of those more accomplished authors who are now following me reads this, they’ll message me with some advice.

One really cool thing that happened yesterday was an author, Ann Harrison, took up my writing challenge, but for technical reasons beyond me, was not able to post a response. So instead, she put her own challenge up on her blog for her readers. I love it! The whole idea of this blog is to get folks writing, whether it be here or somewhere else, it doesn’t really matter, as long as they write. Here’s a link to her blog if you’d like to check her out.

Okay, RV’s got PT today, so I’ve got to scoot. I hope you have an exceptional day, and happy writing!

Your Next Challenge is:

Use the following “Anticipation was a good thing, he thought.” Bonus points if you either start or finish your challenge with the sentence.

Quote taken from Releasing the Billionaire’s Passion by Elizabeth Lennox – a novella offered for FREE on Amazon.
FREE - Click Here

You have ten minutes (be honest). There is no right or wrong, just write. Spelling and punctuation don’t count, and NO ONE is allowed to criticize what someone else has written. Go.