Ginger Simpson's Blog, page 40

They say it's your birthday

Marie's Birthday, 2011 
 Sometimes, for those of us with a melancholy disposition, a February birthday isn’t an unalloyed joy.  This year, as mine comes around, I’m old enough to know I had better pay attention to the good times.

This year, I was looking forward to seeing a special friend on my birthday. She was coming to town—and I and others of her old friends were truly looking forward to her arrival. She’s one of those people whose wit and humor, whose willingness to play, carries any party along.

Life, however, intervened. She isn’t coming. Like many charismatic people, she’s manic, living through huge ups and downs. We understand. However, her absence left us at loose ends in what was supposed to be a cheerful mini-reunion. You need friends around for a good celebration. As the Beatles observed: “We get by with a little help from our friends.” If loss, distance or just a bout of depression keeps them away, a birthday may end up being kind of depressing.  

 
I’m still here and it’s a year later, but so what?  Who is by my side cheering me on with a big “Go you?”
Who will eat cake with me or laugh and caper around to The Safety Dance?  
Well, okay, my husband is still taking me to a special lunch at one of our local breweries. Here in the German part if PA we are well supplied with new, good ones. They have many varieties of beer and some nice dinner plates and all kinds of bar snacks. My favorite is a local bratwurst, which comes with red kraut and horseradish-y potato salad, which seems the exactly right accompaniment for a draft. A special new friend will come along with us, one with her own life-time fund of stories to share.  And then there are my sons. They can’t be here in person, but they are kind enough to call and send presents and all that good stuff we do on family birthdays.  I appreciate the attention, because, as the pop poet said, “it’s a drag when you’re rejected” and most especially a drag when the rejector is your own kid.    

So most of what’s happening will be on the plus side. And, actually, it’s quite a lot. I’m well fed (!), reasonably healthy for my age, more or less secure, and still breathing.  That I don’t get the bubbly fun of that senior version of girl’s night out shouldn’t be a total buzz kill. Still, all of us will miss our friend. It was a chance to laugh together one more time, a thing that the obits in the daily paper remind us should not be lightly passed by. So there’s regret, but it’s not going to be a spoiler. Here I am, in my seventies, still relearning the lesson of one day at a time.  
 “I will make this day a happy one, for I alone can determine what kind of day it will be.”



   ~~Juliet Waldron
  See All my historical novels at:http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B004HIX4GShttps://www.facebook.com/jwhistfic
           
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Sunday Snippets with Ginger Simpson #sundaysnips

This week, I'm sharing a little from my book,Discovery.  I for one love short stories....something to read during an appointment waiting period or right before I fall to sleep.  I absolutely hate waiting to find out what happens, so shorts fill my need.  Each of the stories in this book were published individually by another publisher.  I've combined them into one book for your reading entertainment.  This is a portion from Joy's Revelation :

Joy didn’t mean for the door to slam when she walked into the front foyer.  Her mother, clad in her apron and flour on her hands, appeared in the kitchen doorway.  “Oh, you’re back so soon?  Did you forget something?”
With a big inhalation, Joy steadied herself.  “We need to talk, Mom, and right now.”
Her mother’s eyes grew wide beneath arched brows.  “All right, but you’re scaring me with such a serious look on your face and the tone of your voice.  Did something happen?”
“Please, can we just sit?  I need to ask you something very important…and you need to tell me the truth.”
Her mother’s mouth drew into a thin line.  She stared at her hands, back at Joy, and then released a loud breath that showed her frustration.  “I suppose supper can wait. Let me clean up and I’ll be right back.” 
Joy tossed her purse aside and sat on the edge of the sofa, sorting through her options.  Was she doing the right thing in confronting her mother alone?  Should she wait for her father…even include Scott in the conversation?  Nerves churned her insides into knots.  She clasped her hands in her lap and waited.  Sand in the Sahara couldn’t be any drier than her mouth.  She wanted answers and she wanted them now.
“Okay, okay, here I am.”  Mom appeared, running her just-washed hands down the front of her apron.  “Now, what’s got you in such a dither?”  She sat in her rocker and stared across at Joy.Joy fluttered her lips with an exhalation.  “I don’t know where to start.  I’m so upset.  I think I’m gonna throw up.”  She rubbed her hand across the furrows in her brow.
“What is it, dear?”  Her mother cocked her head.  “You’ve never had a problem talking to me.  We’ve always been able to discuss everything.”
“Have we really?”  Joy leveled an icy stare at her.
“Well, I thought we had a pretty open line of communication between us.”
“I thought so, too, untilI found the secret you’ve been keeping from me in your cedar chest.”Her mother leaned forward, confusion clouding her eyes.  “Whatever are you talking about?”
Joy steeled herself.  “Who is Joey Andrew Garrett?”
A gasp sliced the silence.  Her mother’s mouth gaped.
“Well?” 
Tears welled in her mom’s eyes and her throat wobbled with a hard swallow.  “I-I can’t discuss this right now.”  She bolted to her feet and raced upstairs.  The slamming of her bedroom door wobbled the glass panes in the front window.
Stunned, Joy stared at the floor.  So much for open communication, but this wasn’t over.  Someone was going to offer up some answers, and if it had to be her father, then so be it.
Her familiar ringtone sliced the silence.  She reached for her pocketbook and retrieved her cellphone.  “Hello.”
“Hi, Sweetie.  Rough day?  You sound down.”
“You might say that.  Can you stop by on your way home from work?”
“I suppose so, but what’s going on?”  His voice held a nervous tone.
“I wish I knew.  I guess we’ll find out together when you and my father get here.”


You can find all my books on Amazon.  After you check out my short story collection,  then hop over to my friends and check out their posts today.  See you next week.
http://connievines.blogspot.com (Connie Vines)
http://yesterrdayrevisitedhere.blogspot.com/ (Juliet Waldron)
http://triciamg.blogspot.com (Tricia McGill)

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Is Social Media too Social? #gingersimpson #socialmedia

 Social media has been the main manner most author's use to promote their work. Besides, promoting our work, do we share too much about ourselves, our lives, and our feelings? I'd have to say after losing Facebook friends, the answer is yes.  Obviously there are people who don't share or see the same humor in Memes, make assumptions that aren't true and see meanings you never intended.

Using places like FB has led to criminal cases of bullying, stalking, robbery, rape, and even murder. Maybe each of us needs to stop and examine the types of posts we make and who we are friend's with. Last night I saw a post from someone frantic to find a co-author.  He ended his plea with a suicide threat.  Did he mean it?  I really don't know him so I unfollowed him.  Could I have done more?  I really don't need more stress in my life, so I did what benefited me.  Hopefully, he wasn't serious.

I've stopped accepting friend requests from men with no obvious connection to FB because I'm sick of them using FB as a dating site.  My profile clearly says I'm married, so why they assume I'm looking for someone remains a mystery.  It's easy to tell, just my looking at their profile.  I urge you to take the time to check out those seeking you friendship.

How social should we be? Or should be just put our feet up and relax?  As an author, my contracts state that I will promote my work, but I just gathered my tax information together and discovered I spent more on promotion than I earned.  That's disheartening.  I know I can write because I've received award nominations and positive nods from other...authors and readers.

Every day, I share my own blog posts, those of my fellow bloggers and also those on my publisher's blog.  I use Google, Pinterest, FB, and my two blogs feed to Triberr where the posts get shared by my tribe mates.  I tweet the BWL posts manualy.  What I see at the end of each day is that no one else, save the same handful of faithful authors, are sharing anyone's post.  Some I never see on FB, nor do they accept my invitation to blog.  Their response is always, "I'm too busy _____,"  fill in the blank.  I fume everytime I share my 100 posts per day on Triberr wen I see my posts aren't being shared, and because I'm not on Word Press, there is no program to allow pictures to come through.  I'm a visual person, but not energetic enough to move my blog to a whole new site and expect everyone will follow me.  I've had a hard enough time earning the followers I have, and I truly appreciate each of you.

So, now I wonder, why I'm going through all the paces, but others aren't.  Are they earning money? Do they care?  I know life often gets in the way of our best intentions, but to totally ignore what I consider authorly obligations, doesn't sit well with me. Maybe it's time for me to close down my computer and focus my life on something more fulfilling.

I've recently changed my view of FB.  It's a giant time-suck where I've spent way too much time trying to insert my point-of-view on politics or sharing photos others find offensive. The result:  arguments I never intended to engage in or discussions I never meant to join.  I've totally lost sight of what I signed on to do  Aren't I supposed to be talking books?  But then, the question arises...how much can other people take.  Groups of authors, threads of promotion for new and old releases, cover reveals, EVERYTHING author.  Even I get tired of the constant barrage.  Seems everyone has written a book these days.  Try getting a review on a site and you'll see what I mean.  Unless you know someone, or submit to sites that charge a fee, you'll never get a response.

 From now on, I won't be posting political opinions on FB, and I'm going to try hard to avoid any topics that may be offensive.  I lost a FB friend I valued this past month, and let's face it...trying to change someone's political viewpoint is like spitting in the wind.  I'm thinking 2016 will be the year I retire from writing, but withdrawing from the arena will be tough.  Being a creator of stories is in my blood  I start writing, and it was never for money.  Maybe I can return to the outlook and just be happy with my accomplishments as I once was.  Hey...there's always self-publishing.  I may try that.

Check out my books on Amazon.

Book Battles by Juliet Waldron

This is the title because sometimes that is how I feel about the work of writing.
I’ve been bashing my head against one particular story for months. In this case, it’s a book that was “supposed to be” a romance, the second in a projected series. As everyone who has ever tried to construct a basic, old-fashioned romance novel knows, this can be trickier than it seems.  
Conventionally, for starters, you have the heroine and you have a couple of guys who will be Mr. Wrong and Mr. Right. You will, eventually, in the course of an engaging, warm-hearted story, find a satisfying resolution.  Sounds easy, right? Just a formula!
(And, if you think that, I have a bridge I think you'd like to buy.)
I now understand that I set myself up for this by creating a heroine whose problem is that she is too pretty. She’s the girl who fits every 1870’s guy’s idea of the perfect box of candy. (From a historical perspective, perhaps her good looks have gone out of fashion, but we're in another time, so how would we know? All we do know is that she turns them on.)

 
For the young lady I created three principal suitors. I’d decided in advance which of the three would be the one to win her hand. Her choices: a wounded veteran who is now a minister, a farrier/farmer whose pride and joy is his trotting horse, or a natty gentleman with an inheritance, good looks and a few bad habits.  
If you are a writer, you’ve probably had characters rebel, take issue with your plans. First came the young lady, who tossed her head and told me that she was a material girl and not at all like her earnest elder sister, sweet Sophie of Hand-me-Down Bride.   The men proved difficult to bring to life. Their outlines stubbornly remained vague. Finally, the heroine, tapping her cute little foot, said that for various reasons not one of these men, as now drawn, would do.  On top of the heroine's dissatisfaction, the skeptical old woman inside me kept muttering how not one of these potential unions had "a snow ball’s chance in hell” of enduring for the long haul.
 Hand-me-Down Bride This was/is discouraging. It messes with my sleep, so I lie for hours each night trying to get a scene with this cast of actors to run.  I've tried many ways of making this story work. I've lost my temper and tried to hammer my square pegs into round holes. I've added more angst and then taken it out again. I've thought of writing in (and a job of work is that!) Suitor #4 and/or changing one of the Mr. Wrongs into Mr. Right. In the meantime, other stories keep knocking on the door bearing strong images and smart bits of dialogue, dancing seductively in the costume of another time period, all calling for attention. Potential solutions--the light at the end of tunnel--disappear just before I arrive. Clearly, the secret is hidden inside one of these characters, something about one them remains undiscovered. 

And now it's time to go to bed and think about it a little more. I have faith. Sooner or later, one of these guys will set me straight . Then the rest will be duck soup.




~~Juliet Waldron  
 
All my historical novels Hand-me-Down Bride@  http://www.julietwaldron.comhttps://www.facebook.com/jwhistfichttp://bookswelove.net/authors/Waldron-Juliet




 




 

Sunday Snippets with Ginger Simpson #sundaysnips

Happy Valentine's Day.  I hope you're munching on chocolate and enjoying the sweet aroma of the flowers your special person sent you.  I'm not, but that's because I'm trying to lose weight and my husband and I had an argument one year about his buying me flowers from a grocery store.  Since then, I haven't gotten any.  *lol*  Oh well...he shows his love in so many other way, I guess I'll just have to pretend Tom Selleck is here with my special Valentine card and on bended knee asking for my hand.  He can have all of me, if he can handle it.  *lol*
Anyhow..I thought it fitting to share an excerpt from "The Pendant", since it starts with a Valentine's Day Murder and progresses from there.  Hope you enjoy:
Joseph Flaherty wriggled his nose at the musty odor of the old antique shop.  The poor lighting caused him to squint. He sneezed when he opened a cookie jar and sent a cloud of dust spiraling upward.  The lack of cleanliness repulsed him.  He almost left the establishment, but behind the hazy glass of a display case, an antique necklace caught his eye.  He turned his gaze to the clerk across the room.  “How much for the neck piece there?”  He pointed.The clerk ceased his meager attempt at cleaning and walked closer.  His bulbous nose protruded from between beady eyes.  Dandruff flakes speckled his shoulders and the part in his dark, greasy hair.  “Oh, that necklace.”  His bushy brows knitted into one beneath a crease.  “There’s a history to that one, ya know?”Joseph straightened and pulled his wallet from his pocket.  “Well, do tell, man.  This would make a perfect Valentine gift for my wife.” Laying his cloth aside, the clerk unlocked the display case and removed the silver neckpiece.  “I bought this at a Catholic bazaar about a year ago.  I frequent antique shows and happened upon the fundraiser they were having.  The nun in the booth told me a troubled woman left this piece in the confessional, claiming the necklace held some sort of curse. According to the priest there that night, the lady muttered something about murder.”   He handed the pendant over the counter. “There was a picture of a man inside who was purported to be the victim, but I discarded it.  After all, one never knows the validity of such tales.”  He chuckled.Flaherty laughed.  “My wife threatens to kill me at least once a week—last time for tracking up her clean floor.  I’m thinking this might soften her heart, since she often complains I do nothing for her anymore.  How much do you want to make a woman happy?”“Seventy-five dollars.” “Make it seventy and you have yourself a deal.” “Fair enough.”  The clerk held out his open palm.  “We’re good, then.”Joseph withdrew a hundred-dollar bill and handed it across the counter. 

You can find all my books on Amazon.  After you check out my novella, which is only 99 cents, then hop over to my friends and check out their posts today.  See you next week.
http://connievines.blogspot.com (Connie Vines)
http://yesterrdayrevisitedhere.blogspot.com/ (Juliet Waldron)
http://triciamg.blogspot.com (Tricia McGill)

A Valentine's Day Contest by Ginger Simpson

Released by BWL, Cover by Michelle Lee
Notice the locket the woman is wearing in the picture?  That and a free copy of this novella will be awarded to ten lucky winners, with one winner getting a free box of chocolates.  All you need to do is enter the contest at http://www.bookswelove.com and keep your fingers crossed.  I'll also be giving away a couple of the necklaces and copies of the book here, so stay tuned if you don't win at BWL.

You can win every day with a BWL publication.  The prices are right and the authors are all previously published and have been given an opportunity to right the wrongs in their previously published books.  This story used to be entitled "The Locket."  I truly appreciate having the opportunity to improve my writing and make The Pendant a better read.

Go now, and enter for your chance to win.

If you want to read a sample...you can find this story by clicking here.

The Writing Process by Connie Vines

The Writing Process

I was tagged in a recent Blog Hop by a fellow board member of the
GothRom Chapter of Romance Writers, and I'd though I'd share the the topic: The Writing Process with everyone visiting "Dishin' It Out' today.

1. What am I working on right now?

I work on multiple projects at once.  Is this a good thing?  Probably not—but I do it anyway.  I’m finishing up the last Act in my novella, Here Today, Zombie Tomorrow and finishing my anthology: Gumbo Ya Ya (for who like romance Cajun). And I’m outlining Rand, Book 3 in my Rodeo Romance Series.

2. How does my work differ from others in the genre?

I write in multiple genres and each of genres have a different “tone and focus”—in other words, a different ‘voice’.  My YA novel, Whisper upon the Water (Dream Award Winner, Nat’l Book Award nominee), is told in the 1st person.  The novel is complex; not only a coming-of-age but a transformation of society as a whole (Tay is Apache, Nde). My heroine begins as a girl on the verge of womanhood, a member of her band, speaking her native tongue. She is kidnapped, held hostage, and escapes. Taken to a Native American boarding school, she learns a new language, skills, and encounters prejudice but also kindness.  Later, she must make a very difficult choice.  Her decision will impact her life, as well as the lives of others.  The novel is written for YA level and is reading selection for the G.A.T.E. program in numerous SoCal schools, but the subject matter is not light, however, it is historical accurate.

In my Rodeo Romance Series: Lynx, Book 1, is a contemporary western romance and set in Montana and Texas. This book is lively.  Rachel is spirited and Lynx is hot and sexy—but both have had hardships in life.  My secondary characters add elements of comedy and unexpected plot twists. (Winner of the Award of Excellence, Finalist: H.O.L.T. Medallion, Orange Rose and Rocky Mt. Gold).  Brede, Book 2, is a western romantic suspense, set in New Mexico (99 cents this month on Amazon).  Since the novel is romantic suspense, I do not wish create a spoiler in this blog.  I will say everyone one loves old Caldwell, the ornery old cook, and his cohorts.  Brede is strong-willed and caring; Amberlynn is beautiful and in mortal danger.  Rand, Book 3, is told in the 1st person: ChickLit meets the Wild West and goes Hollywood. Lights, Camera, and a boot-full of Action! I am having, fun, fun with this novel!

My stories are different, because I am different.  My stories take place in places I have lived, or where I have vacationed. I know my subject matter--my father rodeoed while in high school; I have been involved in Native America culture and education programs; my husband is a Louisiana country boy; and, finally, I live in SoCal—of course I have met several Hollywood television stars (and facilitated workshops), actors are often spotted at local SoCal tourist spots, and preform in local theater.

3. Why do I write what I do?

The story calls to me, it is really that simple.  I have a feeling of time and place.  Then I begin hearing snatches of dialogue (like when you are sitting in a coffee shop and you over hear snippets of conversation).  The story invades my life (well it does, just ask my husband).  At the moment, I’m listening to Zydeco music and I have gumbo in my crockpot.  He’s complaining (only half kiddingly) that I brought bayou weather to our house (92 degrees, 50% humidity with full cloud cover and rain at 3 PM).  I am compelled to complete the story.  Native American culture says, “The story comes to the Story Teller to bring it to life.”  And this is what I, as are all writers, tellers of stories.

The French Quarter, New Orleans4. How does my writing process work?

For short stories, novellas and anthologies, I utilize the basic W-plot with extra twists and pivotal points.  When I am writing a novel, or a novel series, I plot in acts and work with three chapters at a time (1-3, 4-6, etc.).  With the exception of short stories, I compile detailed backgrounds, motivation, and personality traits. I also conduct interviews, research, and immerse myself in the ‘culture/environment I am creating.  It is then I begin the first draft of my novel.  This will change as my characters begin to take over the book.  Any writer will agree with me, under no circumstances can you force you characters to act against his/her will.  You can, however, place huge obstacles in the way and see what happens.

Hollywood, CA

Is my first draft perfect? No.  Is my third draft publishable? It’s probably close.  At this point in the writing process, I have writer friend (usually Geeta Kakade) read my novel. She will give her opinion and suggestions—which I may, or may not follow.  Writing, after all, is subjective—as is a reader’s preference for one novel over another.



To read the first chapter teasers or to purchase one (or all ) of my novels please follow this link:

http://www.amazon.com/Connie-Vines/e/...


Remember to watch my book trailers!

Thank you for stopping by.

Connie Vines

Yuk---Colonoscopy Time by Ginger Simpson

WebMD.com
Colonoscopy is a test that allows your doctor to look at the inner lining of your large intestine   (rectum and colon). He or she uses a thin, flexible tube called a colonoscope to look at the colon. A colonoscopyhelps find ulcers, colon polyps, tumors, and areas of inflammation or bleeding. During a colonoscopy, tissue samples can be collected (biopsy) and abnormal growths can be taken out. Colonoscopy can also be used as a screening test to check for cancer or precancerous growths in the colon or rectum (polyps).The colonoscope is a thin, flexible tube that ranges from 48 in. (125 cm)to 72 in. (183 cm) long. A small video camera is attached to the colonoscope so that your doctor can take pictures or video of the large intestine (colon). The colonoscope can be used to look at the whole colon and the lower part of the small intestine. A test called sigmoidoscopy shows only the rectum and the lower part of the colon.Before this test, you will need to clean out your colon (colon prep). Colon prep takes 1 to 2 days, depending on which type of prep your doctor recommends. Some preps may be taken the evening before the test. For many people, the prep is worse than the test. The bowel prep may be uncomfortable, and you may feel hungry on the clear liquid diet. Plan to stay home during your prep time since you will need to use the bathroom often. The colon prep causes loose, frequent stools anddiarrhea so that your colon will be empty for the test. If you need to drink a special solution as part of your prep, be sure to have clear fruit juices or soft drinks to drink after the prep because the solution may have a salty or unpleasant taste.
The preceding medical information has been copied from: http://www.webmd.com/colorectal-cancer/colonoscopy-16695

Cat Bondage :)

 
 Many writers have cats. I’m one of them. Still, sometimes, I wish I'd never gotten hooked on the  furry little tyrants when they do things like stand in front of the monitor (butt in your face), or lie on the keyboard, or step on it--unfailingly when you have 5 windows open and are in the middle of filling out some life-and-death form. Or they decide to recline on your forearms while you are typing. (There's worse pictures, but I spared us.)  These boss-you-around-stories are the ones that people who love cats most enjoy telling. They are also the ones that make those who aren’t under the spell of Felis Sylvestris Catus wonder if we’ve lost our collective minds.
Supplication to the Goddess
You are the Great Cat, the avenger of the gods, the judge of words ,the sovereign and governor of the Holy Circle; You are indeed
The Great Cat!
Sometimes as I stand, holding the door watching metaphoric dollar bills fly out into February, I believe this is truly how the cat sees himself. I mean, what could I do that is more important than hold the door for my tiger cat, while he makes up his mind about whether he was, after all, mistaken in his burning desire to go out and harass the winged visitors of the birdfeeder? 

It's still cold and icy out there, even after ten whole minutes inside this boring house... 
Boot in the rear, you think? Well, you could do that, but just as in human relationships, treating a cat with disrespect will only lower you in his estimation. What goes around comes around. The return message will be clear, often written in poop. Back in the '60's, I knew a person who thought he could ignore cleaning the cat box. His cat, of course, soon registered his opinion by pooping upon his most precious possession—an expensive set of headphones, left on the sofa where the “owner” reclined for hours engrossed by the latest rock’n’roll.  Now, that was a perfectly symmetrical revenge.


 
All of us who share sleeping quarters with felines know that while they can be great cuddlers, they can also be disturbing, mostly because they are sticklers for routine. We’ve all slept beyond the cat-appointed time—only to be awakened by claws gently scraping along our face—or, delicately along our eyelids—or, maybe, worst of all—a single claw hooked inside a nostril, an ever-increasing pressure applied in some feline version of the death by a thousand cuts—to speed our sluggish getting up. 



A friend shared yet another story about this same long-ago Siamese -- probably the bossiest of all breeds -- who would noisily climb the door molding in her bedroom and then slowly slide down, creating a sound like chalk on a blackboard, while she lay, pillow over her head, desperately trying to collect a few more seconds of shut eye. This alarm clock behavior is prevalent Saturday/Sunday when cat owning working stiffs are trying to sleep in. In fact, for most of my own 9-5, the cat--using one of the above methods--would awaken me exactly two minutes before the dream-shattering beeping could begin. Maybe they just hated that sound as much as I did.

To end, I'll just say that all of my historical novels have feline characters. With such a lifestyle, How could they not?
 


~~Juliet Waldron   http://www.julietwaldron.comhttps://www.facebook.com/jwhistfichttp://bookswelove.net/authors/Waldron-Juliet

Sunday Snippets with Ginger Simpson #sundaysnips

This week I'm sharing a little more of my WIP, Sarah's Soul, which I hope to finish this month.  I hope you enjoy it, but remember this is the first, unedited draft:

While she waited for Daniel, she wandered down the hallway..“Mr. Crane?”  Sarah stood in the doorway of her supervisor’s office.  Uneasiness trembled in her voice.“Yes.”  He turned, brows raised.“I-I’d like to reconsider my earlier decision if you don’t mind.”“About taking time off?”  His mouth pulled into a frown.“Yes.  I’d like to get away for a while, and I’m considering a trip to another country.”“Another country?”  His voice climbed an octave.  “How long would you be gone?”  He dropped a file onto his desk and crossed his arms across his bulging stomach.Sarah squared her shoulders. “Since you mentioned hiring someone to fill in for me, I’d like to request a month away.”The sun shining through the window behind him cast what looked like a halo around his head.  Sarah almost laughed since he was anything but angelic.  “What do you think,” she asked, feigning bravery she didn’t feel.  The man had an intimidating presence—always did.He cleared his throat and adjusted his tie. “I suppose if you need time off, you need time off.  I’ll put in a call and arrange a temporary person.  When do you plan to leave?”“At once...i-if that’s okay.  I received another threat here at work today, and I’d really like to just disappear for a while.  I don’t plan to let anyone know my destination, so if you don’t mind, I’m not even going to tell you.”He stiffened.  “Surely you don’t suspect me?”Sarah shook her head.  “Oh, it's not that, sir.  Not at all, but I figure the fewer people who know my whereabouts, the better.”Mr. Crane cleared his throat again.  “Well, then enjoy your time away, and I hope the police find whoever is behind all your woes.  I’m sure I’ll get someone in to read while you’re gone.  If not right away, I’ll still have Marie.”  He stared into space and massaged his chin. “Hmmm, maybe I’ll have an assistant editor step into your place.  That would save me some money” “Right.”  Poor Marie.  She certainly wouldn't be happy to learn she was the sole senior editor, but given the circumstances, she’d understand.  Plus, she knew how cheap the boss was when it came to running the business.  Sarah wanted to scream at him, but forced kindness to surface.  “Thank you, Mr. Crane. I’ll apprise you of any progress made, and I’ll see you in a month.”
Sarah slunk out of the office before her boss had a chance to reconsider his moment of niceness.  She glanced at her wristwatch—quitting time. Marie must surely be wondering where Sarah was.
Watch for the completed novel coming from Books We Love and appearing on my Amazon page.
Now hop on over to the following blogs and check out their offerings:

http://connievines.blogspot.com (Connie Vines)
http://yesterrdayrevisitedhere.blogspot.com/ (Juliet Waldron)
http://triciamg.blogspot.com (Tricia McGill)