Catherine Astolfo's Blog, page 4
March 30, 2016
Mooning Over Miami
My friends the Four Seasons and the Fifth Dimension planned this trip about a year ago. We picked the date and everything. Now that date has finally arrived. The Four Seasons � me, Tanya, Marilynn and Leslie - are going to visit Scott, the Fifth, at his place in Florida.
8:30 A.M.: We leave the house. Traffic is not bad, not too many slow-ups. We arrive right on time � just after ten. I whizz through customs and baggage check like a pro. Soon I’m at the gate. About an hour to wait, so I check Facebook and do my word games.
NOON: When I get on the plane to Miami, I don’t have a preferred seat, which my lovely hubby ordered and paid for. Naturally, I complain to my friend Serge, the airline host. He sends me to see the “lady at the front.� She sends me off the plane � I’ve never done that before � to ask the gate agent to change it for me. I hustle my butt. If only I had known.
Now, there are only about 50 people on this plane. Just so happens no one except Vince was extravagant enough to pay for exit seats. So the nice gate agent gives me an exit seat in an entire row to myself. I have three spacious seats and my butt only covers two of them.
Just as I congratulate myself for what a fine flight this will be, the captain announces that his clock is broken. I don’t even have a watch, but he needs his clock. Apparently time does have to fly. The clock takes care of little things like landing.
When they can’t fix the clock, they order a new one. This not only takes time but needs paperwork done as well.
1:30 P.M.:I have watched most of a movie (Carol) and eaten some yummy cookies and pretzels. The captain finally says we are good to go. Up, up, we go into the wild blue yonder! Yay.
I spread out across three seats. I watch the rest of Carol. Fall in love with Cate all over again. I write. I eat some falafel. More cookies. A can of beer. My, my life is good.
5:30 P.M.: The captain comes on again. Have you ever heard such ominous words? “You folks have certainly had an interesting flight today.”Huh? What?Then: “They have closed the Miami airport and we are being diverted to Fort Lauderdale.� Thank goodness. I thought we were out of gas.
I slide over to my other seat at the window. Never have I seen such cloud formations from so close up! Huge cotton walls of white, grey and black. Even funnel-shaped piles. An entire circle of rain fighting, punching its way out. Shelf clouds! Absolutely breathtaking, except for the shaking of the plane. I figure if I’m going to go, I’ll go as a brave person with her face plastered against the window.
If the clock hadn’t broken, would we have made it before the storm? Or would we have headed straight into those angry balls of energy and crashed? Like our grandson Evan, I sometimes like to think in extremes.
6:30 P.M.: We have to circle the Fort a bit, since they aren’t ready for us, but we finally land with a thump. The airhostess politely asks us to stay seated until they find out what the arrangements will be.
A few minutes later, the poor captain has to deliver the bad news. According to US customs we aren’t allowed off the plane, since we didn’t sign on to come to Fort Lauderdale. I guess that’s the reason anyway. They offer instead to gas us up, wait out the storm, and fly us back to where we should have gone in the first place.
They hand out more of those yummy cookies and pretzels and water.
Meanwhile, the storm shifts gears and heads for Fort Lauderdale.
7:00 P.M.: Thirty minutes later, the captain sorrowfully speaks again. Miami is still closed. Angry clouds and lightning circle Fort Lauderdale. No one wants us except my friends.
Scott, Tanya, Marilynn and Bill wait for me at Scott’s place. They could have picked me up and we could have been drinking by now. I am getting a headache from the recycled air.
I am in the emergency exit row, after all, so I begin to eye the little handle that can open the emergency door. I could walk along the wing and drop down into one of those luggage carts. Scott and the gang could pick me up on Runway 909. No luggage, which would force me to buy all new stuff, but what the hell?
No, I don’t want any more &*%%$# pretzels or cookies!
The captain walks through the plane, asking if we have any concerns. Mine is why can’t they serve booze? He thinks I am joking and laughs!
8:30 P.M.: 12 hours to the time I left home, I step on Miami soil. Well, not soil, the concrete of the airport. I hustle to the baggage claim and there, very quickly, is my sturdy little suitcase, bless his little soul for debarking just before the belt comes to a sudden halt.
Scott is outside, waiting at the curb despite police warnings to leave. He wraps me in his arms and off we go. By 9:30 P.M., I am drinking red wine.
February 17, 2016
Write-Around Sue
The Imajineers, as I've told you before, are an amazing bunch of people who work as a team to promote, inspire and motivate one another. We also cheer on the great things and rally around when life gets tough.
Life has been tough for our Sue lately. Author Susan J. McLeod has encountered some health problems. So the team has done the posting for her, letting the cyber world know that, if you download her first book for free, you will certainly be hooked on the series. Well-written, historical fiction that fascinates, strong characters and a plot that will keep you guessing - Soul and Shadow has all the best elements for a romantic suspense. In fact, the book won a silver medal in the 2011 Reader's Favorites contest.
This is the LAST DAY of the freebies, so go get NOW.
In ancient Egypt, a young priestess of the goddess Hathor is laid to rest in a beautiful tomb with everything she needs for her journey into the afterlife�
Three thousand years later, archaeologist Ursula Allingham discovers the mummy of Amisihathor and is confronted by a mystery. Is the man buried with the priestess really her husband? Or was she actually in love with a scribe called Kamenwati and separated from him in life as well as death?
To answer these questions, Dame Ursula turns to Egyptology student and artist Lily Evans, who reluctantly agrees to help. Lily learns that she is psychically linked to Amisihathor and experiences a strange, unsettling phenomenon—the memories and emotions of the Egyptian woman. Luckily, Lily has her beloved pet Cleocatra and her irrepressible friend Katy to keep her grounded in reality. Or so she hopes.
Dealing with the challenges of falling in love with Ursula’s grandson Kent, the reappearance of her ex-fiance Stephen and the demands of her mother and her boss Professor Briggs, Lily soon realizes she has taken on much more than she bargained for.
Book 1 in Lily Evans Mystery series:
Susan J McLeod was born in Rochester, New York, on October 22, 1957. She began writing at a very early age, when she discovered that she could invent worlds that were much more fun than the one she lived in. Worlds where candy grew on trees and rivers of chocolate milk flowed. Where adventures were always waiting to happen and no one had to go to school.
Over the years, Susan visited ancient Rome, medieval England, and resided for a long spell on a starship orbiting Orion. A recent stay in Pharaonic Egypt resulted in her romantic suspense novel Soul and Shadow, which won a silver medal in the 2011 Reader's Favorites contest. It has been published by Imajin Books. Fire and Shadow, the second story in the Lily Evans series, was released in October 2012. Shell and Shadow is a novella that Susan wrote to raise money for Zara's Center. It was published in February of 2014.
Susan also writes short stories and poetry, and has won awards in both mediums.
She works for a non-profit family foundation that supports Zara's Center, a haven for AIDS impacted orphans.
U2 sums up her philosophy in life when Bono sings "We're one, but we're not the same/we get to carry each other, carry each other."
The Imajineers carry each other happily. Be well, Sue.
Listen to Imajineer Jesse Christensen's beautiful tribute song here:
Life has been tough for our Sue lately. Author Susan J. McLeod has encountered some health problems. So the team has done the posting for her, letting the cyber world know that, if you download her first book for free, you will certainly be hooked on the series. Well-written, historical fiction that fascinates, strong characters and a plot that will keep you guessing - Soul and Shadow has all the best elements for a romantic suspense. In fact, the book won a silver medal in the 2011 Reader's Favorites contest.
This is the LAST DAY of the freebies, so go get NOW.
In ancient Egypt, a young priestess of the goddess Hathor is laid to rest in a beautiful tomb with everything she needs for her journey into the afterlife�
Three thousand years later, archaeologist Ursula Allingham discovers the mummy of Amisihathor and is confronted by a mystery. Is the man buried with the priestess really her husband? Or was she actually in love with a scribe called Kamenwati and separated from him in life as well as death?
To answer these questions, Dame Ursula turns to Egyptology student and artist Lily Evans, who reluctantly agrees to help. Lily learns that she is psychically linked to Amisihathor and experiences a strange, unsettling phenomenon—the memories and emotions of the Egyptian woman. Luckily, Lily has her beloved pet Cleocatra and her irrepressible friend Katy to keep her grounded in reality. Or so she hopes.
Dealing with the challenges of falling in love with Ursula’s grandson Kent, the reappearance of her ex-fiance Stephen and the demands of her mother and her boss Professor Briggs, Lily soon realizes she has taken on much more than she bargained for.
Book 1 in Lily Evans Mystery series:
Susan J McLeod was born in Rochester, New York, on October 22, 1957. She began writing at a very early age, when she discovered that she could invent worlds that were much more fun than the one she lived in. Worlds where candy grew on trees and rivers of chocolate milk flowed. Where adventures were always waiting to happen and no one had to go to school.
Over the years, Susan visited ancient Rome, medieval England, and resided for a long spell on a starship orbiting Orion. A recent stay in Pharaonic Egypt resulted in her romantic suspense novel Soul and Shadow, which won a silver medal in the 2011 Reader's Favorites contest. It has been published by Imajin Books. Fire and Shadow, the second story in the Lily Evans series, was released in October 2012. Shell and Shadow is a novella that Susan wrote to raise money for Zara's Center. It was published in February of 2014.
Susan also writes short stories and poetry, and has won awards in both mediums.
She works for a non-profit family foundation that supports Zara's Center, a haven for AIDS impacted orphans.
U2 sums up her philosophy in life when Bono sings "We're one, but we're not the same/we get to carry each other, carry each other."
The Imajineers carry each other happily. Be well, Sue.
Listen to Imajineer Jesse Christensen's beautiful tribute song here:
February 16, 2016
Do You Have Cyber Pals?
Yesterday I talked about the friendships that develop when authors meet and share a great deal in common, their writing front and center. These days, you can also have cyber pals. Wiktionary says these are people with whom you "communicate only through the Internet or cyberspace."
Two of my cyber pals are authors and . I "met" them because they are also Authors.
Cyber sociologist Judy Hempel says, "I have met and become friendly with a great number of people I would otherwise have no contact with: people all other the world, people from different cultures and backgrounds, and people with similar interests and/or experiences. Most of these relationships are casual and intermittent but there are a few individuals I would mourn losing touch with. They have become my friends."
That's what has happened with Kat and Luke. We have communicated, of course, about our shared passion of writing. But we've also communicated about other things: our lives outside the writing, our hopes and wishes and dreams, our tragedies and our glories.
Kat and Luke have freebies on until tomorrow as well. Get hooked on their series! Once again, in the tradition of books from Imajin: smart, sassy, entertaining yet challenging, exciting plots and interesting characters, Kat Flannery and Luke Murphy have it all.
With over 100 reviews on Amazon, CHASING CLOVERSis the perfect mix of sweet romance and Wild West adventure!
“A truly wonderful western that will break your heart at times and lift your spirit at others. A must read for all.�
Longing to escape the awful memories and the saloon she once sang in, Livy Green lies about her past so she can be a wife to John Taylor and mother to his two young children. Overwhelmed by the task, she struggles to put her resentment aside and love them as her own.
John loved his first wife and is still heartbroken over the loss, but he needs a mother for his children. When his distant and unfriendly mail order bride arrives, he begins to doubt his decision, though one glance into Livy's terrified green eyes tells him he can’t turn his back on her.
As Livy's past catches up with her and suspicious accidents begin to happen on the ranch, she is tempted to come clean and tell John the truth. But will he send her back if she does? Or will they forever be CHASING CLOVERS?
Author Bio:
Kat Flannery’s love of history shows in her novels. She is an avid reader of historical, suspense, paranormal, and romance. She has her Certificate in Freelance and Business Writing. A member of many writing groups, Kat enjoys promoting other authors on her blog. She’s been published in numerous periodicals throughout her career.
Her debut novel CHASING CLOVERS has been an Amazon bestseller many times. LAKOTA HONOR and BLOOD CURSE (Branded Trilogy) are Kat’s two award-winning novels and HAZARDOUS UNIONS is Kat’s first novella. Kat is currently hard at work on her next book.
What happens when the deck is stacked against you�
From NFL rising-star prospect to wanted fugitive, Calvin Watters is a sadistic African-American Las Vegas debt-collector framed by a murderer who, like the Vegas Police, finds him to be the perfect fall-guy.
…and the cards don't fall your way?
When the brutal slaying of a prominent casino owner is followed by the murder of a well-known bookie, Detective Dale Dayton is thrown into the middle of a highly political case and leads the largest homicide investigation in Vegas in the last twelve years.
What if you're dealt a Dead Man's Hand?
Against his superiors and better judgment, Dayton is willing to give Calvin one last chance. To redeem himself, Calvin must prove his innocence by finding the real killer, while avoiding the LVMPD, as well as protect the woman he loves from a professional assassin hired to silence them.
Two of my cyber pals are authors and . I "met" them because they are also Authors.
Cyber sociologist Judy Hempel says, "I have met and become friendly with a great number of people I would otherwise have no contact with: people all other the world, people from different cultures and backgrounds, and people with similar interests and/or experiences. Most of these relationships are casual and intermittent but there are a few individuals I would mourn losing touch with. They have become my friends."
That's what has happened with Kat and Luke. We have communicated, of course, about our shared passion of writing. But we've also communicated about other things: our lives outside the writing, our hopes and wishes and dreams, our tragedies and our glories.
Kat and Luke have freebies on until tomorrow as well. Get hooked on their series! Once again, in the tradition of books from Imajin: smart, sassy, entertaining yet challenging, exciting plots and interesting characters, Kat Flannery and Luke Murphy have it all.
With over 100 reviews on Amazon, CHASING CLOVERSis the perfect mix of sweet romance and Wild West adventure!
“A truly wonderful western that will break your heart at times and lift your spirit at others. A must read for all.�
Longing to escape the awful memories and the saloon she once sang in, Livy Green lies about her past so she can be a wife to John Taylor and mother to his two young children. Overwhelmed by the task, she struggles to put her resentment aside and love them as her own.
John loved his first wife and is still heartbroken over the loss, but he needs a mother for his children. When his distant and unfriendly mail order bride arrives, he begins to doubt his decision, though one glance into Livy's terrified green eyes tells him he can’t turn his back on her.
As Livy's past catches up with her and suspicious accidents begin to happen on the ranch, she is tempted to come clean and tell John the truth. But will he send her back if she does? Or will they forever be CHASING CLOVERS?
Author Bio:
Kat Flannery’s love of history shows in her novels. She is an avid reader of historical, suspense, paranormal, and romance. She has her Certificate in Freelance and Business Writing. A member of many writing groups, Kat enjoys promoting other authors on her blog. She’s been published in numerous periodicals throughout her career.
Her debut novel CHASING CLOVERS has been an Amazon bestseller many times. LAKOTA HONOR and BLOOD CURSE (Branded Trilogy) are Kat’s two award-winning novels and HAZARDOUS UNIONS is Kat’s first novella. Kat is currently hard at work on her next book.
What happens when the deck is stacked against you�
From NFL rising-star prospect to wanted fugitive, Calvin Watters is a sadistic African-American Las Vegas debt-collector framed by a murderer who, like the Vegas Police, finds him to be the perfect fall-guy.
…and the cards don't fall your way?
When the brutal slaying of a prominent casino owner is followed by the murder of a well-known bookie, Detective Dale Dayton is thrown into the middle of a highly political case and leads the largest homicide investigation in Vegas in the last twelve years.
What if you're dealt a Dead Man's Hand?
Against his superiors and better judgment, Dayton is willing to give Calvin one last chance. To redeem himself, Calvin must prove his innocence by finding the real killer, while avoiding the LVMPD, as well as protect the woman he loves from a professional assassin hired to silence them.
February 15, 2016
3 of 7 not 7 of 9*
Sometimes the stars* do align and you get to meet the most interesting people. Some of whom you recognize instantly as a potential friend. A person you can relate to or be silly with. Someone who will hold their own in a debate and help you solve the problems of the world. Someone with whom you can share your obsessions and rely upon to be discrete.
Anais Nin said, "Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born." This quote is never truer than for the friendships among writers. Often our fictional worlds develop within the nurturing circle of authors we trust.
I have been extremely fortunate to develop close friendships with two of my Crime Writers of Canada colleagues, Alison Bruce and Melodie Campbell. In fact, they are responsible for leading me to Imajin Books and all the great things that have evolved since. We're in a writers' critique group together in addition to being Imajineers.
And now - we're all FREE together. I should say, our books are FREE. Naturally, this is a ploy to get you hooked on our books, but either way, you get a terrific read for no dinero = 0 dollars = 0 out of 0.
Alison Bruce
"Everyone has to start somewhere.
I start with coffee."
Under A Texas Star
Disguised as a boy, Marly joins a handsome Texas Ranger in the hunt for a con man and they must bring the fugitive to justice before giving up the masquerade and giving in to their passion.
When Marly Landers is fooled by con man Charlie Meese, she's determined to bring him to justice--even if it means dressing up as a boy and setting off across the plains to find him.
Texas Ranger Jase Strachan is also after Meese, for crimes committed in Texas. He joins forces with the young boy in a journey that takes them to Fortuna, where a murder interrupts their mission. Jase is duty bound to find the killer, no matter the cost.
Under the Texas stars, Marly and Jase are drawn together by circumstances beyond their control, yet fate plots to tear them apart. Will Marly finally get her man?
Melodie Campbell
Click here:
ROWENA THROUGH THE WALL (Book 1 in the bestselling Land’s End Time Travel trilogy)“Outlander meets Sex and the City� Vine Review“Hot and Hilarious!”� Midwest Book Review“A cross between Diana Gabaldon and Janet Evanovich�“Is that a broadsword on your belt, or are you just glad to see me?�
When Rowena falls through her classroom wall into a medieval world, she doesn't count on being kidnapped - not once, but twice, dammit. Unwanted husbands keep piling up; not only that, she has eighteen year old Kendra to look out for and a war to prevent. Good thing she can go back through the wall when she needs to...or can she?
Catherine Astolfo (aka Me)
The Bridgeman is a story of masks, of people who don the cloak of the ordinary to commit extraordinarily evil acts.It's also a story of a love so strong it has survived its own tragedy. The Bridgeman is the tale of a community that must join together to defeat the horror of its underside.
Anais Nin said, "Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born." This quote is never truer than for the friendships among writers. Often our fictional worlds develop within the nurturing circle of authors we trust.
I have been extremely fortunate to develop close friendships with two of my Crime Writers of Canada colleagues, Alison Bruce and Melodie Campbell. In fact, they are responsible for leading me to Imajin Books and all the great things that have evolved since. We're in a writers' critique group together in addition to being Imajineers.
And now - we're all FREE together. I should say, our books are FREE. Naturally, this is a ploy to get you hooked on our books, but either way, you get a terrific read for no dinero = 0 dollars = 0 out of 0.
Alison Bruce
"Everyone has to start somewhere.
I start with coffee."
Under A Texas Star
Disguised as a boy, Marly joins a handsome Texas Ranger in the hunt for a con man and they must bring the fugitive to justice before giving up the masquerade and giving in to their passion.
When Marly Landers is fooled by con man Charlie Meese, she's determined to bring him to justice--even if it means dressing up as a boy and setting off across the plains to find him.
Texas Ranger Jase Strachan is also after Meese, for crimes committed in Texas. He joins forces with the young boy in a journey that takes them to Fortuna, where a murder interrupts their mission. Jase is duty bound to find the killer, no matter the cost.
Under the Texas stars, Marly and Jase are drawn together by circumstances beyond their control, yet fate plots to tear them apart. Will Marly finally get her man?
Melodie Campbell
Click here:
ROWENA THROUGH THE WALL (Book 1 in the bestselling Land’s End Time Travel trilogy)“Outlander meets Sex and the City� Vine Review“Hot and Hilarious!”� Midwest Book Review“A cross between Diana Gabaldon and Janet Evanovich�“Is that a broadsword on your belt, or are you just glad to see me?�
When Rowena falls through her classroom wall into a medieval world, she doesn't count on being kidnapped - not once, but twice, dammit. Unwanted husbands keep piling up; not only that, she has eighteen year old Kendra to look out for and a war to prevent. Good thing she can go back through the wall when she needs to...or can she?
Catherine Astolfo (aka Me)
The Bridgeman is a story of masks, of people who don the cloak of the ordinary to commit extraordinarily evil acts.It's also a story of a love so strong it has survived its own tragedy. The Bridgeman is the tale of a community that must join together to defeat the horror of its underside.
February 14, 2016
7 authors, 7 colleagues, 7 freebies, 7 things we love
The 7 authors, in alphabetical order by first name, are: Alison Bruce, Catherine Astolfo, Chris Redding, Kat Flannery, Luke Murphy, Melodie Campbell, and Susan J. McLeod.
Ali, Cathy, Chris, Kat, Luke, Mel and Sue are all authors at . We are colleagues. At some point or another (e.g. yesterday for Chris), you've met them here on my blog. 7 of us: 6 female and 1 male. Since he has a wife and three daughters, Luke is used to being surrounded by women.
We all happen to have our books on sale right now: the ultimate sale - FREE. 7 freebies.
Since it's Valentine's Day, I thought you might like to read the 7 things we love about being authors.
1. We love our publisher, . Not only is it difficult to acquire a traditional publisher (i.e. one who pays you for your book), but it's also rare for a publisher to take chances on smart, different, rule-changing novels. CEO Cheryl Kaye Tardif is also an author, so she understands the nuances of clever writing, plots that challenge, characters that are unique.
2. We love our readers. They are discerning. They like to be entertained, but they're also looking for great characters whom they can like or dislike, plots that keep them guessing til the end, and settings that transport them.
3. We love our Imajineers. As a group, we are friendly, open, honest, and helpful. We don't compete, we complement. We network for and with one another. We share ideas and skills. We support each other, in good times and in bad.
4. We love marketing together. Selling your product is, for a creative soul, not easy. Banding together to share the work is so much better than going it alone.
5. We love the writing process. Those moments when the characters take over and veer the plot into exciting territory that we didn't know we'd envisioned. Those times when the words absolutely spill onto the page without effort. We soar! It's enough of a thrill to keep us going through the times when we are slogging through every single word.
6. We love our librarians and bookstore owners. They invite us to speak, organize readings, buy our books, and generally introduce us to new readers in the best way of all: face to face.
7. We love our families and friends. They are the foundation that keeps us on our feet. It's not easy loving a writer. Often we disappear for hours at a time. We're in other worlds a lot. We have other people in our thoughts (and they're pretty real to us). Without our families and friends, however, we'd never survive this business of writing, our obsession, our gift, and sometimes, our curse.
The easiest way to find our freebies is to go here and press SHOP NOW:
Yesterday: Chris Redding
Tomorrow: Cathy, Ali and Mel
Monday: Kat and Luke
Tuesday: Sue
Ali, Cathy, Chris, Kat, Luke, Mel and Sue are all authors at . We are colleagues. At some point or another (e.g. yesterday for Chris), you've met them here on my blog. 7 of us: 6 female and 1 male. Since he has a wife and three daughters, Luke is used to being surrounded by women.
We all happen to have our books on sale right now: the ultimate sale - FREE. 7 freebies.
Since it's Valentine's Day, I thought you might like to read the 7 things we love about being authors.
1. We love our publisher, . Not only is it difficult to acquire a traditional publisher (i.e. one who pays you for your book), but it's also rare for a publisher to take chances on smart, different, rule-changing novels. CEO Cheryl Kaye Tardif is also an author, so she understands the nuances of clever writing, plots that challenge, characters that are unique.
2. We love our readers. They are discerning. They like to be entertained, but they're also looking for great characters whom they can like or dislike, plots that keep them guessing til the end, and settings that transport them.
3. We love our Imajineers. As a group, we are friendly, open, honest, and helpful. We don't compete, we complement. We network for and with one another. We share ideas and skills. We support each other, in good times and in bad.
4. We love marketing together. Selling your product is, for a creative soul, not easy. Banding together to share the work is so much better than going it alone.
5. We love the writing process. Those moments when the characters take over and veer the plot into exciting territory that we didn't know we'd envisioned. Those times when the words absolutely spill onto the page without effort. We soar! It's enough of a thrill to keep us going through the times when we are slogging through every single word.
6. We love our librarians and bookstore owners. They invite us to speak, organize readings, buy our books, and generally introduce us to new readers in the best way of all: face to face.
7. We love our families and friends. They are the foundation that keeps us on our feet. It's not easy loving a writer. Often we disappear for hours at a time. We're in other worlds a lot. We have other people in our thoughts (and they're pretty real to us). Without our families and friends, however, we'd never survive this business of writing, our obsession, our gift, and sometimes, our curse.
The easiest way to find our freebies is to go here and press SHOP NOW:
Yesterday: Chris Redding
Tomorrow: Cathy, Ali and Mel
Monday: Kat and Luke
Tuesday: Sue
February 13, 2016
Be My Guest, You've Got Nothin' To Lose
I am delighted to bring you an excerpt of Blonde Demolition, a novel written by my colleague at Imajin Books, Chris Redding.
Her novel just happens to be FREE from today (February 13) until February 17, 2016. The links are at the end! Get yourself a great book for free...be my guest, you've got nothin' to lose!
Blonde Demolition
The hot spray hit Mallory's sore muscles like a thousand needle points. Her heart raced. Her mind sped past it. What could he want?"Ask me." She heard his voice through the translucent panel of the shower door. That voice that could send a thrill through her. That voice that had whispered to her of naked pleasures. That voice attached to a body that could fulfill those pleasures.She shuddered, not surprised to see him. He had a knack for pushing through her boundaries."Do you mind? I'm naked, Trey."His laugh rumbled from the depths of his amazing body. "I've seen you naked. In fact I could probably draw a road map of your body." Her mouth went dry. She finished her shower and turned off the water. She let out a noisy breath before she opened the door. He would not get the best of her.Trey McCrane held her towel as if he planned to make her barter him for it. A twinkle lit his ice-blue eyes. "Towel?" She leaned on the metal frame of the stall, refusing to be intimidated. "Give me the towel." He did, easier than she thought. His gaze roved over her as intrusive as if they were his hands. Even if she hadn't been naked, she would have felt that way. Trey could look through people. "Don't you want to know why I'm here?" "No. I do want to know how fast you can make it out my front door." "Is that any way to greet your former partner?" She knew he meant partner in every sense of the word. They'd been partners in Homeland Security and in bed. "Leave, Trey. I have a good life." "And a bomb in your beer trailer." She wrapped the towel around herself and brushed past him to her bedroom down the hall. This wasn't how she'd envisioned her evening. Her vision held a bath and then bed. Alone. Her vision had nothing to do with saving the world. "How do you know about that?" "Because we were expecting it."
BlurbYOU JUST CAN'T HIDE FROM THE PAST...
Mallory Sage lives in a small, idyllic town where nothing ever happens. Just the kind of life she has always wanted. No one, not even her fellow volunteer firefighters, knows about her past life as an agent for Homeland Security.
Former partner and lover, Trey McCrane, comes back into Mallory's life. He believes they made a great team once, and that they can do so again. Besides, they don't have much choice. Paul Stanley, a twisted killer and their old nemesis, is back.
Framed for a bombing and drawn together by necessity, Mallory and Trey go on the run and must learn to trust each other again―if they hope to survive. But Mallory has been hiding another secret, one that could destroy their relationship. And time is running out.
Blonde Demolition
Chris Redding lives in New Jersey with her husband, two kids, one dog and one show rabbit. She graduated from Penn State with a degree in Journalism and is still a diehard Nittany Lions fan. Her books are filled with romance, suspense and thrills.
Website: Facebook: Twitter: Google Plus: Skype: Chris.Redding.AuthorPinterest:
Her novel just happens to be FREE from today (February 13) until February 17, 2016. The links are at the end! Get yourself a great book for free...be my guest, you've got nothin' to lose!
Blonde Demolition
The hot spray hit Mallory's sore muscles like a thousand needle points. Her heart raced. Her mind sped past it. What could he want?"Ask me." She heard his voice through the translucent panel of the shower door. That voice that could send a thrill through her. That voice that had whispered to her of naked pleasures. That voice attached to a body that could fulfill those pleasures.She shuddered, not surprised to see him. He had a knack for pushing through her boundaries."Do you mind? I'm naked, Trey."His laugh rumbled from the depths of his amazing body. "I've seen you naked. In fact I could probably draw a road map of your body." Her mouth went dry. She finished her shower and turned off the water. She let out a noisy breath before she opened the door. He would not get the best of her.Trey McCrane held her towel as if he planned to make her barter him for it. A twinkle lit his ice-blue eyes. "Towel?" She leaned on the metal frame of the stall, refusing to be intimidated. "Give me the towel." He did, easier than she thought. His gaze roved over her as intrusive as if they were his hands. Even if she hadn't been naked, she would have felt that way. Trey could look through people. "Don't you want to know why I'm here?" "No. I do want to know how fast you can make it out my front door." "Is that any way to greet your former partner?" She knew he meant partner in every sense of the word. They'd been partners in Homeland Security and in bed. "Leave, Trey. I have a good life." "And a bomb in your beer trailer." She wrapped the towel around herself and brushed past him to her bedroom down the hall. This wasn't how she'd envisioned her evening. Her vision held a bath and then bed. Alone. Her vision had nothing to do with saving the world. "How do you know about that?" "Because we were expecting it."
BlurbYOU JUST CAN'T HIDE FROM THE PAST...
Mallory Sage lives in a small, idyllic town where nothing ever happens. Just the kind of life she has always wanted. No one, not even her fellow volunteer firefighters, knows about her past life as an agent for Homeland Security.
Former partner and lover, Trey McCrane, comes back into Mallory's life. He believes they made a great team once, and that they can do so again. Besides, they don't have much choice. Paul Stanley, a twisted killer and their old nemesis, is back.
Framed for a bombing and drawn together by necessity, Mallory and Trey go on the run and must learn to trust each other again―if they hope to survive. But Mallory has been hiding another secret, one that could destroy their relationship. And time is running out.
Blonde Demolition
Chris Redding lives in New Jersey with her husband, two kids, one dog and one show rabbit. She graduated from Penn State with a degree in Journalism and is still a diehard Nittany Lions fan. Her books are filled with romance, suspense and thrills.
Website: Facebook: Twitter: Google Plus: Skype: Chris.Redding.AuthorPinterest:
February 10, 2016
Day Six Into Seven
My garden paradise gazeboApparently, the loud slaps that I heard echo across the shoreline this morning, John tells me, are not fish: they're rays. I look up the difference between a manta ray and a stingray, and I believe these are manta. I could see its light underside as it flipped in the air. These are very small, perhaps young?
From Manta Pacific Research:Manta rays are large sea animals that live in tropical, sub-tropical, and temperate waters worldwide. Their side or pectoral fins have evolved into wide triangular wings that they use to easily propel themselves through the water. Their broad blanket-like bodies earned them the name manta that means cloak or blanket in Spanish. Like many other open ocean animals, manta rays have counter shading coloration - dark on the topside (dorsal side) and light on the underside (ventral side). Manta alfrediis a smaller species that has an average size of 11� across. Mantas may leap completely out of the water for a variety of reasons. They may do it to escape a potential predator or to rid themselves of skin parasites. Or they may leap to communicate to others of their own species � the great, crashing splash of their re-entries can often be heard from miles (kilometres) away. It's anyone's guess what they may be trying to communicate. Leaping male Mantas may be demonstrating their fitness as part of a courtship display. Since these leaps are highly energetic and often repeated several times in succession, they may simply represent a form of play.
If they are jumping to escape a predator, that might not be good news, since the only one to hunt them is a shark.
Not my picture - the ones we saw were tinier and I didn't have my camera ready!
Later we walk down toward the harbour and stop at Messa 40 for cold beer and the best hamburguesa in the world. Y papas fritas. Why do yummy things like this have to be so many calories??
I spend all day in the pool other than quick exits to obey the rule (NPITP). Using the little green chairs that are now empty after Bill and Pat's departure, I prop up my iPad safely on the chair and read, with feet or body dangling in the silky water. Heaven!
I even see my little curlew chasing sand shrimp, dipping her long beak in and out, chased sometimes toward our fence by the crash of a large wave.
The coconuts that Jorge cut open for the dogs are now sufficiently chewed that pieces of coconut are available to the birds. Tiny sparrows fight each other for the treats. When the yellow-breasted larger bird comes along, they gang up to chase it away.
Koy's gardener gives John a coconut to drink from. I've had it before and I don't like it, so I decline. Inside, the flesh is like a soft membrane, quite different from what we expect to see. So of course I have to look them up. I find a list of 52 amazing things coconut can do for you, including: Kills viruses that cause influenza, herpes, measles, hepatitis C, SARS, AIDS, and other illnesses. Wow! I need to buy more coconut oil when I get home. See the entire list here: /
The scientific name for coconut is Cocos nucifera. Early Spanish explorers called it coco, which means “monkey face� because the three indentations (eyes) on the hairy nut resembles the head and face of a monkey. Nucifera means “nut-bearing.� The coconut provides a nutritious source of meat, juice, milk, and oil that has fed and nourished populations around the world for generations. The outermost layer, or husk, is green, red, or yellow at first, but turns brown as the coconut matures.
In tropical countries, young coconuts are often sold with the top cut off and a straw inserted to make a refreshing drink. *(this is how John was served) The hollow of the coconut is filled with coconut water, not to be confused with the coconut milk made from the meat of the mature fruit. After the coconut is drained and split open, the white meat lining the walls of the shell is revealed. This meat is much thicker and oilier in a mature coconut than in the younger version of the fruit.
I guess most of the coconuts in these palms are not yet mature. Wait til I tell John the protection he now has from drinking and eating that coconut!
We have dinner at El Caribe again, where the ocean tumbles right in front of us and the breeze is spectacular. Margaritas, our little night heron, cold beer, fresh salads and shrimp...ahhhhhh. Perfect end to a perfect day.
This morning Vince and I have hot cakes at Bricio's for breakfast. As usual, I get a flower on my dish and Vince does not, which Bricio says is discrimination by the cook.
I can't eat my entire stack, but I'm still absolutely stuffed. Bricio gives me a lovely little cloth advertising the restaurant. Perfect for one of my end tables at home. He must think I was jealous of Vinnie's t-shirt.
This is our second-last round of pool, breeze, ocean-gazing, reading, writing in this garden paradise. Now if only the whales would appear!
From Manta Pacific Research:Manta rays are large sea animals that live in tropical, sub-tropical, and temperate waters worldwide. Their side or pectoral fins have evolved into wide triangular wings that they use to easily propel themselves through the water. Their broad blanket-like bodies earned them the name manta that means cloak or blanket in Spanish. Like many other open ocean animals, manta rays have counter shading coloration - dark on the topside (dorsal side) and light on the underside (ventral side). Manta alfrediis a smaller species that has an average size of 11� across. Mantas may leap completely out of the water for a variety of reasons. They may do it to escape a potential predator or to rid themselves of skin parasites. Or they may leap to communicate to others of their own species � the great, crashing splash of their re-entries can often be heard from miles (kilometres) away. It's anyone's guess what they may be trying to communicate. Leaping male Mantas may be demonstrating their fitness as part of a courtship display. Since these leaps are highly energetic and often repeated several times in succession, they may simply represent a form of play.
If they are jumping to escape a predator, that might not be good news, since the only one to hunt them is a shark.
Not my picture - the ones we saw were tinier and I didn't have my camera ready!
Later we walk down toward the harbour and stop at Messa 40 for cold beer and the best hamburguesa in the world. Y papas fritas. Why do yummy things like this have to be so many calories??
I spend all day in the pool other than quick exits to obey the rule (NPITP). Using the little green chairs that are now empty after Bill and Pat's departure, I prop up my iPad safely on the chair and read, with feet or body dangling in the silky water. Heaven!
I even see my little curlew chasing sand shrimp, dipping her long beak in and out, chased sometimes toward our fence by the crash of a large wave.
The coconuts that Jorge cut open for the dogs are now sufficiently chewed that pieces of coconut are available to the birds. Tiny sparrows fight each other for the treats. When the yellow-breasted larger bird comes along, they gang up to chase it away.
Koy's gardener gives John a coconut to drink from. I've had it before and I don't like it, so I decline. Inside, the flesh is like a soft membrane, quite different from what we expect to see. So of course I have to look them up. I find a list of 52 amazing things coconut can do for you, including: Kills viruses that cause influenza, herpes, measles, hepatitis C, SARS, AIDS, and other illnesses. Wow! I need to buy more coconut oil when I get home. See the entire list here: /
The scientific name for coconut is Cocos nucifera. Early Spanish explorers called it coco, which means “monkey face� because the three indentations (eyes) on the hairy nut resembles the head and face of a monkey. Nucifera means “nut-bearing.� The coconut provides a nutritious source of meat, juice, milk, and oil that has fed and nourished populations around the world for generations. The outermost layer, or husk, is green, red, or yellow at first, but turns brown as the coconut matures.
In tropical countries, young coconuts are often sold with the top cut off and a straw inserted to make a refreshing drink. *(this is how John was served) The hollow of the coconut is filled with coconut water, not to be confused with the coconut milk made from the meat of the mature fruit. After the coconut is drained and split open, the white meat lining the walls of the shell is revealed. This meat is much thicker and oilier in a mature coconut than in the younger version of the fruit.
I guess most of the coconuts in these palms are not yet mature. Wait til I tell John the protection he now has from drinking and eating that coconut!
We have dinner at El Caribe again, where the ocean tumbles right in front of us and the breeze is spectacular. Margaritas, our little night heron, cold beer, fresh salads and shrimp...ahhhhhh. Perfect end to a perfect day.
This morning Vince and I have hot cakes at Bricio's for breakfast. As usual, I get a flower on my dish and Vince does not, which Bricio says is discrimination by the cook.
I can't eat my entire stack, but I'm still absolutely stuffed. Bricio gives me a lovely little cloth advertising the restaurant. Perfect for one of my end tables at home. He must think I was jealous of Vinnie's t-shirt.
This is our second-last round of pool, breeze, ocean-gazing, reading, writing in this garden paradise. Now if only the whales would appear!
February 9, 2016
Manzanillo: Day Five and Into Six
This morning there are two enormous cruise ships in the harbour. It's been years since so many of them docked in Manzanillo. A good sign for the Mexican economy. The ships are gigantic yet graceful as they appear in the mist of morning, then glint a striking white later in the day.
While sitting on the balcony, I hear a loud slap on the water. It's a fish, silver in the sun as it leaps straight upward and belly flops hard on the surface before disappearing again. Then another one does the same. Maire says they're probably avoiding a predator below, trying to scare it away with the noise. Certainly nothing threatens from above; the pelicanoes haven't yet arrived. A lone tern sails past, paying no attention to the jumping fish. Grackle stays in our garden to peck at the damp grass. The hummingbird has no appetite for fish obviously. The pigeons are grumbling today, voices raised in some kind of protest. Maybe they don't like the construction going on next door. Brand new condos that look like they will be gorgeous, though they have certainly encroached on Koy's property.
We go out for breakfast with Pat and Bill, right across from Bricio's. We don't feel unfaithful, though, since Bricio is closed on Mondays. This new place is working hard to establish clientele. We all have omelettes with nearly any ingredient you want for one price. Yummy.
When we return, John and Maire are out and about in the garden. We meet Isabella's (the dentist) boyfriend, Jorge, who is a surfer. We're not sure what else he does for a living. He speaks English extremely well, with only a touch of a Spanish accent. We used to think Jorge stood for "he who drives", but maybe it's "he who surfs" instead. (Inside joke, sorry.)
Jorge helps John put up a hammock between two trees in the garden. Oh my! If I get in there, with the sound of the sea and the breeze wafting over me, I may never get back out again.
We spend the day, once again, in utter relaxation mode, though I do get my editing done. I think my editors are geniuses. They pick out so many grammar, typo, spelling or punctuation errors there might not be any for Imajin's professional editor to find. (Of course, I am making a huge assumption that Imajin will accept my submission.)
I sit under the gazebo where I get the ocean breeze and a glimpse of the waves. In and out of the pool, we read (or edit), talk, drink cold beer, do crossword puzzles, watch the waves for signs of whales (of which there are none).
Koy comes to talk before she goes out again. She is a beautiful woman, slim, impeccably dressed. She's extremely friendly and welcoming. With her German husband, she has traveled and lived all over the world. Right now he is in Germany with her son and their grandchildren, while she is here with her daughter. Koy's mother lives here too. The situation causes her some sadness, she says. Perhaps renting out her suites will allow her to travel back and forth more often.
There are two Dobermans here, very docile, sleek and brown/black and black/brown. Beautiful eyes that have only friendliness reflected there. I have no doubt they would protect their family, but they have decided we are part of that category. Their names are Rambo and Rocky.
Vince goes upstairs to relax on the lounger on our balcony. First he's visited by a gecko who slides down the tiles in the bathroom. Later we hear him tut-tutting in the palapa roof, so we assume he scrambled back up.
Next one of the dogs comes wandering into the apartment, since the doors were open. Vince is not very comfortable with Rambo, so I lead the dog back downstairs, talking to him with my cat voice, telling him he's a good boy, which I realize he probably doesn't understand since he only speaks Spanish. However the cat voice gives the message anyway. He becomes my friend and lies beside me as I edit by the pool.
At sunset, we walk down to the Toscano Restaurant. Pat and Bill have secured a beautiful table overlooking the ocean. Unfortunately the sun sets in a bag, so we don't get treated to the usual stunning sight. Our food is mostly good, the wine is excellent, and there's a musical duo who play and sing songs that I know the words to. Isabella and Jorge, with Rambo or Rocky, jog by on the sand.
Bill gets a bottle of that excellent wine (Rioja) to go...
Back home, we take a night swim, drink the wine, and talk. I fall right to sleep when I finally get to bed. We've given Pat and Bill our goodbye hugs, since we are one hundred per cent certain we won't be up at six in the morning.
Of course, we're right. So far, on this sixth day, I have written this blog, watched Jorge chop down coconuts, fish jump, birds fly, waves tumble and recede. I've had a good session of whistling and chatting with Grackle. Setting the pattern for another day in paradise.
One of the dogs with a coconut treat.
While sitting on the balcony, I hear a loud slap on the water. It's a fish, silver in the sun as it leaps straight upward and belly flops hard on the surface before disappearing again. Then another one does the same. Maire says they're probably avoiding a predator below, trying to scare it away with the noise. Certainly nothing threatens from above; the pelicanoes haven't yet arrived. A lone tern sails past, paying no attention to the jumping fish. Grackle stays in our garden to peck at the damp grass. The hummingbird has no appetite for fish obviously. The pigeons are grumbling today, voices raised in some kind of protest. Maybe they don't like the construction going on next door. Brand new condos that look like they will be gorgeous, though they have certainly encroached on Koy's property.
We go out for breakfast with Pat and Bill, right across from Bricio's. We don't feel unfaithful, though, since Bricio is closed on Mondays. This new place is working hard to establish clientele. We all have omelettes with nearly any ingredient you want for one price. Yummy.
When we return, John and Maire are out and about in the garden. We meet Isabella's (the dentist) boyfriend, Jorge, who is a surfer. We're not sure what else he does for a living. He speaks English extremely well, with only a touch of a Spanish accent. We used to think Jorge stood for "he who drives", but maybe it's "he who surfs" instead. (Inside joke, sorry.)
Jorge helps John put up a hammock between two trees in the garden. Oh my! If I get in there, with the sound of the sea and the breeze wafting over me, I may never get back out again.
We spend the day, once again, in utter relaxation mode, though I do get my editing done. I think my editors are geniuses. They pick out so many grammar, typo, spelling or punctuation errors there might not be any for Imajin's professional editor to find. (Of course, I am making a huge assumption that Imajin will accept my submission.)
I sit under the gazebo where I get the ocean breeze and a glimpse of the waves. In and out of the pool, we read (or edit), talk, drink cold beer, do crossword puzzles, watch the waves for signs of whales (of which there are none).
Koy comes to talk before she goes out again. She is a beautiful woman, slim, impeccably dressed. She's extremely friendly and welcoming. With her German husband, she has traveled and lived all over the world. Right now he is in Germany with her son and their grandchildren, while she is here with her daughter. Koy's mother lives here too. The situation causes her some sadness, she says. Perhaps renting out her suites will allow her to travel back and forth more often.
There are two Dobermans here, very docile, sleek and brown/black and black/brown. Beautiful eyes that have only friendliness reflected there. I have no doubt they would protect their family, but they have decided we are part of that category. Their names are Rambo and Rocky.
Vince goes upstairs to relax on the lounger on our balcony. First he's visited by a gecko who slides down the tiles in the bathroom. Later we hear him tut-tutting in the palapa roof, so we assume he scrambled back up.
Next one of the dogs comes wandering into the apartment, since the doors were open. Vince is not very comfortable with Rambo, so I lead the dog back downstairs, talking to him with my cat voice, telling him he's a good boy, which I realize he probably doesn't understand since he only speaks Spanish. However the cat voice gives the message anyway. He becomes my friend and lies beside me as I edit by the pool.
At sunset, we walk down to the Toscano Restaurant. Pat and Bill have secured a beautiful table overlooking the ocean. Unfortunately the sun sets in a bag, so we don't get treated to the usual stunning sight. Our food is mostly good, the wine is excellent, and there's a musical duo who play and sing songs that I know the words to. Isabella and Jorge, with Rambo or Rocky, jog by on the sand.
Bill gets a bottle of that excellent wine (Rioja) to go...
Back home, we take a night swim, drink the wine, and talk. I fall right to sleep when I finally get to bed. We've given Pat and Bill our goodbye hugs, since we are one hundred per cent certain we won't be up at six in the morning.
Of course, we're right. So far, on this sixth day, I have written this blog, watched Jorge chop down coconuts, fish jump, birds fly, waves tumble and recede. I've had a good session of whistling and chatting with Grackle. Setting the pattern for another day in paradise.
One of the dogs with a coconut treat.
February 8, 2016
Manzanillo Day Three and Four
I awaken to the sound of the waves. They're pretty fierce this morning, rolling up when they meet the sand, slapping the shore only to be pushed backward.
Pigeons call from the palapa roof, a throaty collective giggle. Oh, ho ho ho, it's a beautiful morning.
John emails that coffee is ready so I pad down in my slippers and lounge gown and meet him on their back porch. He gets interrupted by a call from Christine, a former patron of Las Flores, who wonders what has happened with the old place. I say hi to her but I don't think she recognizes me. Now, if that had been Vicente...
I scurry back upstairs. Tiny yellow birds (finches?) flit back and forth in the garden below me. A pelican lazily rides the air currents, head turned seaward in his relentless search for fish.
The shore here has slowly inched up, worn away by a couple of monstrous hurricanes over the years since we've seen it.
Nowadays the beach is a short mound that slants toward the ocean far more quickly. Googly-eyed crabs still clamber back and forth and John did see my friend the willet the other day. I wrote a book called the Curlew and the Willet, because I loved the way they worked the sand food together. Never got it published but...
Before long, John appears at the top of the stairs, balancing a coffee pot, milk, sugar, and a tray of fruit for breakfast. Could anyone start a day better than this?
Oh, wait - it does get even better. Pat and Bill have made mimosas!
We spend all day in this mode. Relaxed, quiet. Reading, blogging, talking and laughing now and then. Dip in the pool to cool off, stretch the limbs. Watch the ocean for a while as it swells, breaks, retreats. Listen to Grackle tell us the news.
Once in a while I try to call the whales, but so far they're not listening. In previous years, we've been treated to humpbacks and their offspring playing. They'd breach, lobtail and dive, baby and mother side by side, and it wasn't hard to get hooked. So we keep alert to signs of spouts that signal we might receive this privilege again.
Vince, John, Pat and Bill do some shopping, while Maire and I simply sit and bask. Spoiled? Oh yah.
Dinner is an adventure. We walk across the street to the little Italian restaurant. Unfortunately the waiter is very new (perhaps even to Earth), the cook is late, and the boss shows up too late to salvage the mix-ups. We do eventually get our food at various times. We kindly eat salads we didn't order. Bill's meal is served at least 30 minutes after me, and I am the last of the others, so he gets his for free. The food is good, though, and the poor waiter is young and a cutie, so what can you do?
Afterward we sit on our balcony and drink wine and Jameson and talk until well past nine. Tanya would be shocked.
The next day I literally spend all of it in the backyard. Floating in the pool for hours. Doing my editing, which turns out to be far more fun with the sound of waves in the background. Maire and I do some aquafit moves. John, Bill and Pat go off to the baseball game, but the three of us stay put. Though Vinnie does go out and do a little shopping, so he really doesn't qualify for the whole day in the backyard thing.
Magnificent frigates and a few turkey vultures sail overhead. The frigates are beautiful from below, sculptured wings and the flash of white bodies, graceful and calm. Even from here, the vulture's hooked beak looks threatening, though its flight is elegant.
Our little hummingbird flits around enjoying the flowers.
I watch some yellow-breasted birds for some time. They're bigger than finches. There's a couple and, I think, a young one. When I look them up on the Internet, I think it's a tropical kingbird or a tyrant flycatcher. If I were that bird, I'd pick the former for my name.
Later we watch that game on TV where a whole bunch of men run up and down a field chasing a ball and sometimes jump on each other. The half-time entertainment, however, is worth it. I love Chris Martin and Beyonce and Bruno Mars. Because I am cool.
I've got a video and a picture from our dinner at El Vaquero and the parade (if they upload).
Pigeons call from the palapa roof, a throaty collective giggle. Oh, ho ho ho, it's a beautiful morning.
John emails that coffee is ready so I pad down in my slippers and lounge gown and meet him on their back porch. He gets interrupted by a call from Christine, a former patron of Las Flores, who wonders what has happened with the old place. I say hi to her but I don't think she recognizes me. Now, if that had been Vicente...
I scurry back upstairs. Tiny yellow birds (finches?) flit back and forth in the garden below me. A pelican lazily rides the air currents, head turned seaward in his relentless search for fish.
The shore here has slowly inched up, worn away by a couple of monstrous hurricanes over the years since we've seen it.
Nowadays the beach is a short mound that slants toward the ocean far more quickly. Googly-eyed crabs still clamber back and forth and John did see my friend the willet the other day. I wrote a book called the Curlew and the Willet, because I loved the way they worked the sand food together. Never got it published but...
Before long, John appears at the top of the stairs, balancing a coffee pot, milk, sugar, and a tray of fruit for breakfast. Could anyone start a day better than this?
Oh, wait - it does get even better. Pat and Bill have made mimosas!
We spend all day in this mode. Relaxed, quiet. Reading, blogging, talking and laughing now and then. Dip in the pool to cool off, stretch the limbs. Watch the ocean for a while as it swells, breaks, retreats. Listen to Grackle tell us the news.
Once in a while I try to call the whales, but so far they're not listening. In previous years, we've been treated to humpbacks and their offspring playing. They'd breach, lobtail and dive, baby and mother side by side, and it wasn't hard to get hooked. So we keep alert to signs of spouts that signal we might receive this privilege again.
Vince, John, Pat and Bill do some shopping, while Maire and I simply sit and bask. Spoiled? Oh yah.
Dinner is an adventure. We walk across the street to the little Italian restaurant. Unfortunately the waiter is very new (perhaps even to Earth), the cook is late, and the boss shows up too late to salvage the mix-ups. We do eventually get our food at various times. We kindly eat salads we didn't order. Bill's meal is served at least 30 minutes after me, and I am the last of the others, so he gets his for free. The food is good, though, and the poor waiter is young and a cutie, so what can you do?
Afterward we sit on our balcony and drink wine and Jameson and talk until well past nine. Tanya would be shocked.
The next day I literally spend all of it in the backyard. Floating in the pool for hours. Doing my editing, which turns out to be far more fun with the sound of waves in the background. Maire and I do some aquafit moves. John, Bill and Pat go off to the baseball game, but the three of us stay put. Though Vinnie does go out and do a little shopping, so he really doesn't qualify for the whole day in the backyard thing.
Magnificent frigates and a few turkey vultures sail overhead. The frigates are beautiful from below, sculptured wings and the flash of white bodies, graceful and calm. Even from here, the vulture's hooked beak looks threatening, though its flight is elegant.
Our little hummingbird flits around enjoying the flowers.
I watch some yellow-breasted birds for some time. They're bigger than finches. There's a couple and, I think, a young one. When I look them up on the Internet, I think it's a tropical kingbird or a tyrant flycatcher. If I were that bird, I'd pick the former for my name.
Later we watch that game on TV where a whole bunch of men run up and down a field chasing a ball and sometimes jump on each other. The half-time entertainment, however, is worth it. I love Chris Martin and Beyonce and Bruno Mars. Because I am cool.
I've got a video and a picture from our dinner at El Vaquero and the parade (if they upload).
February 6, 2016
Manzanillo: Day One and Two
We were tired yesterday when we arrived, but oh, what a welcome. John was there at the door and I got to do a Mama Mia happy dance and hug with Maire right after. Not to mention hugs and greetings from Pat and Bill. From the beautiful back yard of this hacienda, there was a huge orange sunset dipping over the ocean.
The hacienda is a wide, lovely property. Right on the Pacific, there are coconut palms and many different flowering bushes everywhere, colored rocks and green grass. Directly in the middle is an inviting kidney-shaped pool. A little round gazebo has been constructed with leaves and vines on concrete pillars.
The suites in the hacienda (two of them that are rentals) are amazing. Ours for the week is up a winding set of stairs to the second floor. There's a huge balcony, a big living/dining area, a kitchen, two big bedrooms with ensuites and a half bath. Mexican tile, a palapa roof.
On our dining room table: wine from John and Maire and Jameson from Pat and Bill! We are in heaven. Can you believe what great friends we have? So freakin' lucky.
Maire and John have a two-bedroom, two bathroom (sort of, since the second one is outside) suite downstairs, with a lovely front room that opens into the garden.The kitchen needs explanation too with its bar-sized fridge. The attempt to replace it could have been a skit from the Keystone cops or the Tool man when they brought in the new one and promptly broke it. The new one will return once more, ѲñԲ. (Which did translate to the day after, so they're all set!)
The owner, Koy, lives on the third floor. Her daughter, a dentist, has a home and office on the second floor. When Vince saw Isabella in her bikini, he decided he need some work done on his teeth.
We have dinner at one of our old haunts, a favorite restaurant that has been redone a few times after hurricanes. Sammy, the owner, recognizes Vicente of course. Sammy has done a magnificent job of redoing the space, though it has shrunk a bit in size. El Caribe has the same delicious food and our dinosaur-stepping, long-legged night heron still walks the beach in front.
The next morning dawns absolutely pure and glorious. The sky is robin's egg blue, the waves full and noisy with that relaxing consistency that immediately calms your nerves. My grackle comes to visit me! I'm sure it's the same grackle that used to visit me, for four years in a row, in the other place just down the road. He'd sit in the tree next to that balcony and chat. Now he's here.
Vince heard him say, Cathy, where the hell have you been?, which is how we knew it was indeed the same bird. Grackle has all kinds of different sounds and he's been interesting places, so he's the perfect conversationalist.
The six of us stroll over to Bricio's for breakfast. Once Vince shows Bricio his t-shirt, the old guy recognizes Vicente. We have our usual huevos mexicanos and they're as delicious as ever.
Now for a few hours by the pool! There's a cooling breeze, the warm is warm and silky, the sun is hot and caressing.
I have to swim with a shirt on and a hat and glasses covering my face, slathered all over with sunscreen, but that's my Irish-English heritage, so what can you do?
Pat and Bill are the only ones who can get in and out of those little chairs, so they sit and read.
Here's the property from another angle. Our unit is upstairs under the palapa and Maire and John are just to the right of the gazebo.
From this angle, you can see the ocean beyond. We called the whales, but no signs of spouts yet.
Yet another angle, which shows Maire and John's front door and the dentist office above.
Oh, and me, still in the pool.
Maire on her front deck. The pool was even warm enough for her discerning taste.
A lovely hummingbird flits in and out, tasting the red flowers of the bougainvillea.
Around 4 PM, we wander off to have dinner at El Vaquero. Pat and Bill are in the mood for beef and we agree wholeheartedly. We're seated on the balcony, though not quite at the front. That proves not to be a problem. Great service, mostly good food (Maire and I are not thrilled with our filet mignon, since it's a lot different from the cuts we get at home).
About seven, the festival begins. We knew they were setting up for it, but even the locals thought it would start at nine. We watch the parade from the balcony. Dancers, floats, musicians, and vehicles flood the roadway. Tons of people are out enjoying themselves. Lots of families with little ones running around or dancing. Bill dubs one float the "Dead Man's Float" as Elvis and Marilyn Monroe and other deceased stars dance past.
The roads are closed off, so we walk home. Actually, we stroll home. Through the crowds we thread our way along though the locals of Las Brisas having an absolute ball. There are trinkets for the kids and food wagons and beer. One stop at the Chantilly (we liked it and want to go back) for a fortifying drink and bathroom stop. The owner tells us this festival is a competition between Las Brisas and Manzanillo and some other suburbs to see who can put on the best parade. I have no idea who the judges are, but this one would be hard to beat in terms of enthusiasm. Later, we can hear but not see the fireworks because we've all flopped down in bed.
Vince says no one who hasn't been here can understand the appeal of Manzanillo. The people, the heat, the ocean's power, the great restaurants, history, birds and flowers...we are both happy to be back. Especially with Maire and John and Pat and Bill in this gorgeous hacienda on the sea.
The hacienda is a wide, lovely property. Right on the Pacific, there are coconut palms and many different flowering bushes everywhere, colored rocks and green grass. Directly in the middle is an inviting kidney-shaped pool. A little round gazebo has been constructed with leaves and vines on concrete pillars.
The suites in the hacienda (two of them that are rentals) are amazing. Ours for the week is up a winding set of stairs to the second floor. There's a huge balcony, a big living/dining area, a kitchen, two big bedrooms with ensuites and a half bath. Mexican tile, a palapa roof.
On our dining room table: wine from John and Maire and Jameson from Pat and Bill! We are in heaven. Can you believe what great friends we have? So freakin' lucky.
Maire and John have a two-bedroom, two bathroom (sort of, since the second one is outside) suite downstairs, with a lovely front room that opens into the garden.The kitchen needs explanation too with its bar-sized fridge. The attempt to replace it could have been a skit from the Keystone cops or the Tool man when they brought in the new one and promptly broke it. The new one will return once more, ѲñԲ. (Which did translate to the day after, so they're all set!)
The owner, Koy, lives on the third floor. Her daughter, a dentist, has a home and office on the second floor. When Vince saw Isabella in her bikini, he decided he need some work done on his teeth.
We have dinner at one of our old haunts, a favorite restaurant that has been redone a few times after hurricanes. Sammy, the owner, recognizes Vicente of course. Sammy has done a magnificent job of redoing the space, though it has shrunk a bit in size. El Caribe has the same delicious food and our dinosaur-stepping, long-legged night heron still walks the beach in front.
The next morning dawns absolutely pure and glorious. The sky is robin's egg blue, the waves full and noisy with that relaxing consistency that immediately calms your nerves. My grackle comes to visit me! I'm sure it's the same grackle that used to visit me, for four years in a row, in the other place just down the road. He'd sit in the tree next to that balcony and chat. Now he's here.
Vince heard him say, Cathy, where the hell have you been?, which is how we knew it was indeed the same bird. Grackle has all kinds of different sounds and he's been interesting places, so he's the perfect conversationalist.
The six of us stroll over to Bricio's for breakfast. Once Vince shows Bricio his t-shirt, the old guy recognizes Vicente. We have our usual huevos mexicanos and they're as delicious as ever.
Now for a few hours by the pool! There's a cooling breeze, the warm is warm and silky, the sun is hot and caressing.
I have to swim with a shirt on and a hat and glasses covering my face, slathered all over with sunscreen, but that's my Irish-English heritage, so what can you do?
Pat and Bill are the only ones who can get in and out of those little chairs, so they sit and read.
Here's the property from another angle. Our unit is upstairs under the palapa and Maire and John are just to the right of the gazebo.
From this angle, you can see the ocean beyond. We called the whales, but no signs of spouts yet.
Yet another angle, which shows Maire and John's front door and the dentist office above.
Oh, and me, still in the pool.
Maire on her front deck. The pool was even warm enough for her discerning taste.
A lovely hummingbird flits in and out, tasting the red flowers of the bougainvillea.
Around 4 PM, we wander off to have dinner at El Vaquero. Pat and Bill are in the mood for beef and we agree wholeheartedly. We're seated on the balcony, though not quite at the front. That proves not to be a problem. Great service, mostly good food (Maire and I are not thrilled with our filet mignon, since it's a lot different from the cuts we get at home).
About seven, the festival begins. We knew they were setting up for it, but even the locals thought it would start at nine. We watch the parade from the balcony. Dancers, floats, musicians, and vehicles flood the roadway. Tons of people are out enjoying themselves. Lots of families with little ones running around or dancing. Bill dubs one float the "Dead Man's Float" as Elvis and Marilyn Monroe and other deceased stars dance past.
The roads are closed off, so we walk home. Actually, we stroll home. Through the crowds we thread our way along though the locals of Las Brisas having an absolute ball. There are trinkets for the kids and food wagons and beer. One stop at the Chantilly (we liked it and want to go back) for a fortifying drink and bathroom stop. The owner tells us this festival is a competition between Las Brisas and Manzanillo and some other suburbs to see who can put on the best parade. I have no idea who the judges are, but this one would be hard to beat in terms of enthusiasm. Later, we can hear but not see the fireworks because we've all flopped down in bed.
Vince says no one who hasn't been here can understand the appeal of Manzanillo. The people, the heat, the ocean's power, the great restaurants, history, birds and flowers...we are both happy to be back. Especially with Maire and John and Pat and Bill in this gorgeous hacienda on the sea.
