Book Review: Relentless by Winter Austin

Relentless (Book 1 of the Degrees of Darkness Series)Relentless by Winter Austin

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Dallas police detective Remy LeBeau is a man with a dangerous past. Hand-picked by his boss to investigate the death of a young red-headed cowgirl, he knows he needs to maintain a low profile to keep that past from catching up with him. When the medical examiner ties this girl’s murder to the infamous Rodeo Sweethearts killer, LeBeau must tread carefully as he opens cold case files to find the murderer. The deeper he delves into the case the more exposed he and his only witness become – a witness that bears an unmistakable resemblance to the murdered women.

Cody Lewis is a rising star in the world of professional barrel racing. She only needs a few more wins to secure a position at the National Finals Rodeo. When she finds the murdered girl in her horse trailer, she is all too aware of her own ties to the killer that terrorized the Dallas rodeo circuit five years before. Determined to hold on to her dream, she isn’t going to let fear or the gorgeous Cajun detective interfere.

This first offering by Crimson Romance debut author, Winter Austin, has all the elements of a great high stakes romantic suspense. Both main characters are fighting their own demons and an irresistible attraction to each other while trying to stay alive. The heroine is a strong female who stands on her own two feet. I love strong female leads. The age of the little woman waiting for the big, strong hero to ride in and rescue her is over. Cody Lewis is one tough lady. Remy LeBeau is a smokin’ mix of tough cop and sexy Cajun. He makes my toes tingle when he talks. I love his knight-in-shining-armor tendencies tempered by respect for the strength of the woman he wants to protect.

I was unable to put this book down and when I was forced to, the characters stayed in my head urging me to drop everything and curl back up to finish their story. They have stayed with me ever since I did. Thankfully, Relentless is Book I in the Degrees of Darkness Series. Book II, Retribution, is due out June 10, 2013. I am counting the days!

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Whipped Coconut Facial Cleanser from Health Starts in the Kitchen

natural coconut walnut oil and soapI have become entranced with the magic of coconut oil. I make my own coconut milk using organic dried coconut flakes. I love how it separates into milk and ‘cream’ after it sits in the refrigerator for a while. My daughter and even my vegan sister question why I go to the trouble when I can buy coconut milk at the grocery store. Besides the fact that I am a foodie and love preparing things from scratch, I have never gotten a bit of cream out of that pasteurized store-bought stuff.

I put both the fresh coconut milk and some of the cream in my morning coffee. Not only does my coffee taste great, my lips get a coating of coconut oil that leaves them supple. And all this without fillers, preservatives, and chemicals whose names require an advanced science degree to pronounce.

I’ve been searching for other uses of coconut oil, especially in homemade beauty preparation. I found Health Starts in the Kitchen by following a link posted on Facebook by The Coconut Mama. The website graphics are appealing and the navigation is good. There is plenty to explore. I’ve got my coconut oil ready. Now I need some castor oil…I don’t keep it…didn’t even realize it is still in use. Hopefully I will have a fresh jar of Whipped Coconut Facial Cleanser to start off my birthday and **th decade tomorrow.

http://www.healthstartsinthekitchen.com/2013/01/14/whipped-coconut-oil-facial-cleanser/. Thank you, Coconut Mama, for always posting links to great information!

 

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A Prose Poem: Renewal

Chill air bites, stings, burns. Wind swirling around the body slamming against the face. Too thick, too hard, too cold. Icy, breathless death.

Robins trill hope, growth, birth. Warm air caresses the skin. Heart quickens yet lungs refuse this offering. Too pure, too green, too light. Warm, moist death.

Panic stills as blazing sand slips between the toes. Anticipation squeezes on last exhale, just enough to free the soul to run to the foaming edge. At last. Gulping, gasping, breathing. Salty, humid life.

~Patricia~

(Originally posted at https://www.facebook.com/notes/the-shelden-sisters-sarcasticsatirical-sometimes-sassy-spinnings/renewal/201687356646036 and  https://www.facebook.com/PatriciaMarieWarren)

(Renewal © 2013 Patricia Marie Warren & Typing One-Handed.com)

(image by @picpic – Fotolia.com)

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Book Review: Beach Rental by Grace Greene

Beach RentalBeach Rental by Grace Greene

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I loved this book. It was a wonderful glimpse of summer in the middle of winter. I especially loved that it took place on Emerald Isle – the beaches of my childhood. Grace Greene has nailed that elusive sense of peace we look for while making a life. This is the perfect beach read.

Juli Cooke has been tossed about by life’s waves. Dying Ben Bradshaw offers her temporary harbor(and a financial settlement) when he asks her to marry him. She surprises herself by accepting his offer. Suspicious Luke Winters, Ben’s best friend, assumes that Juli is taking advantage of the dying man and lets her know that he is watching her very closely.

When Ben dies, everything changes. As she comes to grips with losing the man who became her dear friend in the short time they had together, she also comes to like the woman she has grown into by knowing him. And her temporary harbor becomes more permanent as she discovers that gifts Ben left her are more than monetary and that real love comes in many forms.

Grab a glass of tea, curl up on a porch rocker and ride the waves as hard-working Juli Cooke finally gets a taste of the healing power of the ocean.

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IOW: Returning From the Fire

“Once you were alienated from God and were enemies in your minds because of your evil behavior. But now he has reconciled you by Christ’s physical body through death to present you holy in his sight, without blemish and free from accusation— if you continue in your faith, established and firm, and do not move from the hope held out in the gospel.” ~Colossians 1:21-23a

Circumstance can play a huge role in our perception of faith. I learned this the hard way. My son went to war.

My faith in God’s sovereignty never wavered. I completely believed He was in control of the situation. I completely believed He had a plan in place for my son’s life from the moment of his conception. The difficulty for me was that I didn’t know the plan.

And my fears of what might be started strangling me…

And my trust began to falter…

I didn’t go to church more than once or twice for five months of the deployment.

Yet God was faithful to me all the while I was ignoring Him. He fully heard my pain-filled cries that were brought to His throne by the Comforter I refused to acknowledge. Even though I directed my rage toward Him, He sent peace my way. His love chipped at the wall I built between us. As the light of His Truth began to beam through the smallest of openings, desire to hear His word preached rekindled in my heart.

One Sunday in January I went to church.

I went back the next Sunday. And the next…

Grace began it’s healing process. I could listen to the Gospel spoken without tears of grief. And one glorious Thursday in April I held my son in my arms once again. I could breathe finally.

I still struggle with the question of why some are taken while others are spared. Whether in war or natural disasters or the acts of another, the suffering seems so random. I’m back to the beginning: I don’t know the plan. And most of the time I’m okay with that.

Last Sunday’s sermon brought to mind my son’s beaming face after a church retreat when he was 15. He had discovered the root of his own faith in the story of the fiery furnace. His faith mantra became, “But if not.” That sweet memory of my son’s trust in God’s plan is helping me to trust again.

“Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, answered and said to the king, O Nebuchadnezzar, we are not careful to answer thee in this matter. If it be so, our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, and he will deliver us out of thine hand, O king.  

But if not, be it known unto thee, O king, that we will not serve thy gods, nor worship the golden image which thou hast set up.” ~Daniel 3:16-18

O Lord, deliver me from my own fears. Guide me to trust you fully and to stand steadfast in You.

Miriam Pauline is hosting In Other Words today at MiPa’s Monologue.

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Guest Post: What Christmas Means to Me by Steven T. Warren

 

Yes, the correct answer has to do with Jesus’ birth and what that means to us.

(c) Tim Scott - Fotolia.com

However, I want to focus on the celebration aspect for just a minute. I grew up in a family without the means to heap presents around the Christmas tree. My memories are not of ripping open package after package, then by mid morning, forgetting about the presents I first opened. Yes, I’m sure at the time the ripping of paper was exciting, but those memories didn’t last much beyond the mess. I usually had one present that was “the present” that was of any monetary value, and I don’t mean big money. My memories of Christmas past are of the atmosphere created by my family, mostly my Mom.

The look of our house changed with decorations, a live tree and things baking: creating the “smell” of Christmas. Much was made of decorating the tree in that many of the ornaments were handmade. I remember my picture on a canning jar lid, shellacked and trimmed with yarn, probably made at school. I wonder what happened to that ornament? I remember stringing popcorn at least once. We made an attempt to sing Christmas carols around an old upright piano that no one really learned to play. We lit candles to set the mood. (Maybe we were saving electricity, if so I didn’t know. We had the live tree because an artificial tree was for rich people).

These are fond memories.

The easy way to do Christmas is to buy a several presents and keep the kids from opening them until the moment the cameras are ready. The pictures are captured for “facebook” to prove it happened. Soon the garbage truck comes and picks up the mess and the toys (or what’s left of them) are put in the overflowing toy area.

I have been to both Christmas celebrations. It takes effort to make memories, not a lot of money. I hope this Christmas you will focus on making memories you and your kids can reflect back on many years later and remember “the feeling of Christmas.”

~Steve (or Dad or Papaw)

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Men in Uniform: A Tribute … Electronic Release Just in Time for Veteran’s Day!

Lightning Always Strikes Twice by Patricia Marie Warren

Wyatt Richmond has been appearing in her life just when she needs rescuing. Now it is U.S. Marine Captain Audrey Justice’s turn to be the rescuer. It’s a matter of life or death and Audrey must use all her skills as a JAG officer and a woman to save her combat Marine from a court martial and himself.

 

Digital Release, November 11, 2011 … Print Release, November 21, 2011

I can’t describe the excitement I had, from a writer’s perspective, when an editor for Turquoise Morning Press extended an invitation for me to submit a story for the “in-house only” anthology, Men in Uniform: A Tribute. It is an honor for me to be included with these writers who work hard at perfecting the craft and weaving the art of writing romance.

From a personal perspective, this book is near and dear to my heart. I am the daughter of a retired United States Marine, SgtMaj Wayne A. Shelden, who served for 30 years. I am the wife of a retired United States Airman, SMSgt Steven T. Warren, who served for 22 years. And I am the mother of an active duty United States Marine, LCpl Steven R. Warren, currently serving and deployed in the big, ugly place. I am aunt and sister-in-law to more brave men who serve and have served.

My story is dedicated to these amazing members of my family and all those who serve – you are my heroes!

Audrey and Wyatt’s story is based on a true incident that happened during the Vietnam War to my father. There are circumstances that require our fighting forces to do things they could never imagine themselves doing during normal life. But there is nothing normal about war. I won’t spoil the story, but please be assured that I do not take lightly the seriousness of war or the effects it has on our fighting men and women both during and after they serve in war zones.

Post Traumatic Stress Disorder affects more than just the warrior. Families can be torn apart. Our responsibility to our military reaches much farther than wearing red on Fridays. We must reach out and be a comfort to those who serve overseas and here at home. Please read here for more information.

I do wear red every Friday to show support for my son and all U.S. military serving worldwide. I take every opportunity to tell people why I wear red. Talking about our troops is the very minimum I can do. Praying is the most important.

More from the authors of Men in Uniform: A Tribute ….

Jennifer Johnson http://jennfrancesca.blogspot.com/

Margaret Ethridge http://www.margaretethridge.com/?page_id=54

Jennifer Anderson http://musingsfromthepeanutgallery.blogspot.com/

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Herding Cats… or Getting a 6-Year-Old to Sit Still for Extended Periods (A Gluten Intolerance Tale, Part One)

Of course, my grandchildren are the brightest, cutest, most delightful children in the world. And, it goes without saying: so were their progenitors.

We have started the next generation of notes and phone calls from public school officials (and yes, these quotes contain my sarcastic interpretation):

“Your child (grandchild) spent half the school day sitting in the hall because he was standing in his chair then jumping off. He did not sit quietly and repentant in the hall…he sang and made noises the whole time. He sat backwards in his chair and kicked the wall.”

“Your child (grandchild) and another child were hitting each other in the (unmentionable word here) and laughing about it on the way into the lunch room. His response to being sequestered for such boyish antics was to make farting noises with his armpit.”

“We advise that you have your child (grandchild) tested for ADHD. Children who can not sit still and quietly during endless repetitive math worksheets, and who express their feelings to other children by any sort of physical contact, by definition are attention deficit.”

“No, your child (grandchild) is not the only one in the classroom who behaves this way. But here is a school psychologist’s report that will go in his permanent file anyway.”

WHAT IS WRONG WITH CHILDREN BEING CHILDREN AS LONG AS POSSIBLE????

Thank the Lord for a doctor who has three young children. He is conservative in all diagnoses. He sent home his own evaluation form to be given to anyone who cares for the little one: parents, grandparents, Sunday school teachers, and school teacher. MEANWHILE, the child is to eat a wheat-free diet for the next two weeks to see if this could help his concentration in large group settings.

He suggested the diet change because I researched anecdotal stories of wheat allergies and ADHD, then reported my findings to the 6-year-old’s mother (my daughter #1). Turns out, for those sensitive to gluten, wheat intake may cause symptoms that mimic Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder. We have one family member with diagnosed celiac disease, the 6-year-old’s aunt (my daughter #2). Research indicates that gluten sensitivity may be genetic.

It makes sense to me to check out all the options before we even entertain the possibility of a learning disability which will permanently affect the child’s educational experience, even if it means the school will miss out on the extra funding it would get if we allow him to be so labeled (read heavy sarcasm into that last bit). One other thought that occurs to me-since the school officials brought up the idea of medication: If we start at 6 years of age teaching the child that if he can’t sit still in class he can take a drug, where will that end? If he can’t sleep, there’s a drug for that… If he feels sad, there’s a drug for that… I see the possibility of a never-ending cycle of medicating to live. I believe there are people who truly need to use medication for specific chemical imbalances. I do not believe this is true for one as young as six years with no evidence of disorders like fetal alcohol syndrome.

Some of the symptoms we have noted in the 6-year-old (henceforth called the Dynamo, with good reason) that mimic ADHD:

  • concentration problems
  • fight or flight reactions to stress (melt-downs)
  • forgetfulness
Along with those three symptoms, some of the symptoms we have noted in the Dynamo that indicate a gluten intolerance:

  • abdominal cramping
  • acid reflux
  • attention and behavioral problems
  • floating and malodorous stools
  • gas
  • headaches
  • irritability
  • joint pain
  • mood swings
  • nausea
Not all of these happen all the time, but when they do hit all at once it is a difficult day in the neighborhood!

The reason we and our doctor reject the idea that these are symptoms of ADHD is that he is able to sit still quietly for movies, when he is reading to us or being read to, when he is interested in a project he’s working on, basically any time he is not bored.

My husband started the gluten-free journey last night with a box of Betty Crocker Gluten-Free Brownies. What a great start! This morning we had locally grown golden delicious apples and gluten-free brownies for breakfast. It was the Dynamo’s idea. Didn’t I tell you he is the smartest?!?
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Book Release, NaNoWriMo, Home Improvements, and a Happy Holidays to You!

Could November get any busier?

First News: National Novel Writing Month started Tuesday, November 1. I am squeezing in a word or two every chance I get. This year I am determined to “Get ‘er Done!” More on this in a minute.

Second News: My first published story was released on Amazon.com on Wednesday, November 2. I was so excited yesterday I could hardly sit still. I kept a browser open to the book’s Amazon page all through work and then at home. What an amazing feeling to see my name included on the cover! I am doubly excited about the release of Currents: A Collection of River Stories because all the proceeds are going to the Greenup County (Kentucky) Health Department to pay for ovarian cancer screenings. Clicking the cover will take you to the book’s publisher page, Turquoise Morning Press at CreateSpace, where you can be assured every bit of the proceeds from your purchase will go to ovarian cancer screenings.

I will have copies in hand around November 16. All proceeds from these will also go to ovarian cancer screening.

If you are interested in seeing how cool the book’s Amazon page is, click here.

Third News: This will shock my family members I am sure. The bathroom update is finished, the dining room is nearing completion, and the sunroom will be close to finished by Thanksgiving… and yes, we will be hosting a family Thanksgiving dinner in the newly remodeled spaces. This year’s feast will be 100% gluten-free and will have special vegan dishes for those who want them–menu and recipes will be in a later post. If I wander from the activity, I’ll be hiding away furiously trying to make my daily word count goal. Y’all will understand, won’t you? ;-)

Now back to NaNoWriMo: With the grand endeavor starting during the work week, I am already behind on my word count. At the current rate I will be finished by December 28. But hallelujah! The weekend is coming. My novel will get a big boost Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. For those few who got a sneak peek at my Currents short story and wanted the rest of the story, The Devil is in The Details is the novel I am writing for NaNoWriMo. How interesting it is getting to know Detective Jillian MacKenzie better as she works to solve the mystery of women who are dying for love. How frightening it is taking a look into the mind of a serial killer.

I DO LOVE WRITING!

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Visitors and then Some…

Today I had visitors at work:

My two grandsons, 6 yrs and 6 weeks, stayed with me for a while when their mom went to the doctor. The 6 week old was having tummy troubles so I let the 6 yr old go out into the narthex and listen to the organist practice.

Unbeknownst to me (juggling fretful baby), the organist went up into the balcony to play the baby grand piano and the 6 yr old took advantage of the empty stage to practice his own singing. His mom returned and just a minute passed before he came running into my office. “Nana, Mom, come watch Max play the piano upstairs.” We put him off and he insisted, “Come listen to Max and those people practice!” Well…..

As far as I knew until my daughter arrived, Max (the organist), the 2 boys and I were the only ones in the building. There is a ding that goes off every time an exterior door is opened and none had sounded after Max came in until my daughter arrived.

So naturally I asked, “What people?”

“The people in white suits.”

“You mean white hair? You saw someone with white hair?”

Big sigh. “No, Nana. Not Max. The two people in white suits were with him practicing the piano. Upstairs.”

“How did you see them upstairs?”

Another big sigh. “When I was on the stage. I saw them through the window.”

My daughter and I were both puzzled and we brushed him off a bit. Although quietly and out of his hearing, I did say to her, “Who could he be talking about? Did you see anyone when you came in?” She said she hadn’t and we gathered up both boys and I walked her to the car.

When the organist came back into the office I nonchalantly asked, “Did you have anyone practicing with you in the balcony?”

“Nope. Just me.”

This beautiful building I work in was built in 1858. Standing on the stage you can see up into the balcony where a gorgeous stained glass window illuminates the room. Today is very overcast and the sun wasn’t shining through the window but it is so large that the room is always lit. What did our little one see up there? Or perhaps whom? He didn’t specify whether the two people in white suits were male or female. I am not a believer in spooky things so I will go with my first instinct: The beautiful classical music that Max plays was accompanied this day by visiting angels who couldn’t pass by an opportunity to glorify the Creator in this lovely place He has provided for Worship.

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