Sandra Cox's Blog, page 256

Heh Heh

One Sunday morning in church, Satan appeared at the front of the congregation.
Everyone started screaming and running for the front entrance, trampling each other in a frantic effort to get away from evil incarnate.
Soon everyone had exited the church except for one elderly gentleman who sat calmly in his pew without moving, seeming oblivious to the fact that God's ultimate enemy was in his presence.

Satan walked up to the old man and said, "Don't you know who I am?"
The man replied, "Yep, sure do."
"Aren't you afraid of me?" Satan asked.
"Nope, sure ain't." said the man.
"Don't you realize I can kill you with a word?" asked Satan.
"Don't doubt it for a minute." returned the old man, in an even tone.
"Did you know that I could cause you profound, horrifying, physical AGONY for all eternity??" persisted Satan.
"Yep." was the calm reply.
"And you're still not afraid?!" asked Satan.
"Nope."

More than a little perturbed, Satan asked, "Well, why aren't you afraid of me? "
The man calmly replied, "Been married to your sister for over 48 years."

Catch Up and Fifteen Weeks

How is your week going? How was your weekend?
We still have baby bird eggs in the ferns. I stopped checking at four. I didn't want to upset her. She and the mister had done some remodeling and left the remains of the project scattered all over the porch:)
Unfortunately, the daughter-in-law has been in the hospital. We pet sat so the boy could  spend his time there instead of running back and forth. While we were there we saw the latest round of ultrasound pics. It's amazing how much the babies have grown. You can distinctly see the shape of their faces.  At fifteen weeks: they're the size of oranges and their limbs can move.

BBT: Her Sister

BLURB:Clare's little sister, Lynnie, was abducted twenty-seven years ago.  Now the retired detective who has never been able to let go of the cold case has a lead.  Lynnie could be alive!
Clare's neighbor, Joe, an occasional friend until now, gives her support and...wants more than friendship.
Clare's mom, Amanda, thrown together again with her ex-husband into a crisis discovers forgotten love beneath the regrets.
Clare's sixteen year old daughter, Shara, decides to run from her problems instead of facing them.
A devoted sister, a turmoiled mom and a rebellious daughter find their way back to each other in this contemporary ebook about three generations who discover love can knit their family back together again.Where is Lynnie?  Where did she go?
In her mind, five-year-old Clare Thaddeus called to her little sister—Come back, Lynnie.  Please come back.
The huge policeman crouched down in front of Clare's mother at the sofa and said in a deep, slow voice, "Mrs. Thaddeus, I know you're terribly upset.  But I need details.  We've got an hour before daylight.  If your daughter wandered outside—"
Clare's father, who'd been talking to another man in blue, glanced at her, and Clare huddled down deeper into the big green armchair.  Her dad didn't come to her but rather went to her mom, sank down beside her and wrapped his arm around her.  Then he spoke to the officer.  "Our daughter, Lynnie, is three.  She would never go outside into the dark on her own."
"Tell us again where you were last night," the policeman demanded in a not-so-nice voice.
"I worked late, preparing a brief."
"Until five a.m.?"
"Yes, until five a.m.  As I told you, I always check the girls' rooms before turning in.  Lynnie wasn't in her bed.  I woke my wife.  We looked through the whole house and then we called you."
Clare had been sleeping in her brand new room.  They'd moved in here—she studied her hand and counted her fingers—five days ago.  Boxes were still stacked down here and upstairs.  The house was okay.  There were more rooms for her and Lynnie to play hide and seek.  But she didn't like being alone in her own room at night.  She'd liked it better when she and Lynnie had slept in the same room.  She was supposed to watch her sister.  She was always supposed to look out for Lynnie.  That's what big sisters did.AUTHOR Bio and Links:Award-winning author Karen Rose Smith was born in Pennsylvania. Although she was an only child, she remembers the bonds of an extended family. Since her father came from a family of ten and her mother, a family of seven, there were always aunts, uncles and cousins visiting on weekends. Family is a strong theme in her books and she suspects her childhood memories are the reason.
In college, Karen began writing poetry and also met her husband to be. They both began married life as teachers, but when their son was born, Karen decided to try her hand at a home-decorating business.  She returned to teaching for a while but changes in her life led her to writing romance fiction. Now she writes romances and mysteries full time. She has sold 82 novels since 1991.
Presently, she is hard at work on a three-book series for Harlequin Special Edition as well as a three-book mystery series for Kensington.
Married to her college sweetheart since 1971, believing in the power of love and commitment, she envisions herself writing relationship novels, both romance and mystery, for a long time to come! Websites:  http://www.karenrosesmith.com/ andhttp://www.karenrosesmithmysteries.co...  https://www.facebook.com/pages/Karen-Rose-Smith/113599841764?fref=tsTwitter:  https://twitter.com/karenrosesmithBlog:  http://karenrosesmith.blogspot.com/Newsletter:  http://karenrosesmith-ezine.blogspot.com/Amazon BUY link:  http://www.amazon.com/Her-Sister-Search-Love-ebook/dp/B00BFFJ79Y/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1367965316&sr=1-1&keywords=Her+sisterKaren will be awarding a Landau charm bracelet and a $25 Amazon Gift Card to a randomly drawn commenter during the tour (US ONLY).
The tour dates can be found here: 
http://goddessfishpromotions.blogspot.com/2013/05/virtual-blurb-blitz-her-sister-by-karen.html

SBB: The Vigilante

BLURB:It isn’t safe for men who work in the porn business in the city of Toronto.
When porn producer Sal Turbit is found dead in his apartment, no one seems to care. No one, that is, except Detective Lynette Wilton. Lynette has been a homicide detective for only three months, and has yet to earn her stripes.
Murder is murder no matter who the victim is—and Lynette is out to catch a killer.   "Morrison knows how to create suspense! She brings readers on a roller-coaster ride that leaves you breathless from start to finish!" —Trey Anthony, star and producer “Da Kink in Da Hair”Six empty beer bottles, a heaping ashtray, and assorted marijuana paraphernalia were already strewn across his table. The grandfather clock struck four times. Sal stumbled back into the room. “I got you a beer.”
Glassy-eyed, Sal said, “I’ve got lots of great products for you to move today.” He showed the visitor the cover of a DVD. “This one is new. It’ll sell out. She’s a real sweet thing. Told me she was eighteen ’n had the ID to prove it. Likely just some little tramp from nowhere-ville. Came to the big, bad city for excitement––”
The metal felt cool as the visitor pulled out a gun.
“What the hell?” Sal screamed, just before the bullet penetrated his skull.
He fell onto the sofa, blood oozing out the back of his head. His face was contorted, almost angry looking. Certainly surprised.
The spent cartridge from the handgun ricocheted against a metal garbage can––reminiscent of the pop of a beer cap––and then landed on the carpet.
The murderer studied the victim’s splayed body, feeling a sense of elation and satisfaction. Out came a Swiss Army knife, and the killer wordlessly hacked off a section of Sal’s hair, stuffed it into a small plastic bag, and then threw it into a knapsack. The killer then picked up the half-spilled beer that Sal had been handing over when the shot was fired. Perfect. Grinning, the murderer chugged the beer, retrieved the spent cartridge, and smugly looked at Sal Turbit’s still body, now surrounded by pooling blood.
Still wearing leather gloves, the murderer put the beer bottle and hot metal bullet charge into a knapsack and fled, smiling, into the dense night.AUTHOR Bio and Links: I am Jacqui Morrison. I started writing poems and short stories as a child. I also enjoyed public speaking in elementary school and at University. In High School, a great teacher, Lenore Hawley, inspired me and in 1995 I pursued my life-long passion for writing.
 My career is a complicated web and includes: owning an ice cream parlour and fine food shop, teaching life-skills management to adults, teaching computer applications, social service work and marketing.
From 1994 to 2003, I assisted survivors of domestic violence in both criminal and family court as a support worker. I’ve always had a strong interest in law and justice.
I love to write and I am happiest writing or encouraging others to fulfill their writing dreams. I facilitate writing seminars for Canadore College and various agencies.
I live in northern Ontario, Canada with my daughter Alison, my husband Wayne, and a three-legged dog named Willow. Our daughter has convinced us to adopt four cats so Felix, Sasha, Nikke and Angel round out our family. Angel, at four-months-of-age was abandoned by its owner and we rescued her in -15 degree weather.
Alison has a future in politics, animal rescue work or sales … because I’m not really a cat person and she’s persuaded me to adopt four.
My parents are the late Drs. John and Irene Morrison. Mom was a family physician and a competitive swimmer. My father worked for the Provincial Parole Board. Dad enjoyed to write fictional stories in his spare time. He was my mentor, my editor and my hero. I have one sister named Trish. She is a competitive swimming coach. Trish resides in southern Ontario with her husband, four children, two dogs and a cat.
In our spare time we like to cruise Georgian Bay on our boat or spend quality family time.Her Website: http://jacquimorrison.ca/Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/jacqui.morrison
Jacqui will be awarding Loose Tea and Chipnuts to two randomly drawn commenters during this tour and the Virtual Reviews Tour combined.
The tour dates can be found here: 
http://goddessfishpromotions.blogspot.com/2013/06/virtual-super-book-blast-vigilante-by.html

It's The Weekend and Savannahs

This one's for Pat Hatt and Orlin.

Animal Odd Couple

This is so precious.
Thanks for bringing this to my attention, Ryan.

~*~Did you see the article on mosquitoes? The little blood suckers are drawn to dark clothes, black in particular. They prefer type O blood and blood from pregnant women. Perverts. 

SBB: Just Perfect

BLURB:William Chesterton, the Earl of Chester, might be the perfect gentleman, but his feelings for Constance Bridgewater are anything but gentlemanly.
Constance Bridgewater, the daughter of the late Earl of Bridgewater, might be the perfect lady, but her feelings for the Earl of Chester are anything but ladylike.
They both know that if they were together, everything would be just perfect.
So what is keeping them apart?London, England 1825
William Chesterton, the Earl of Chester, sat in his comfortable parlor swirling an untouched glass of brandy in his hand. Spring had come at last to London, though the April evening was still chilled and damp. His staff had seen to the modest fire burning behind the grate, and the warmth lulled him into a false sense of serenity. It did nothing to dispel the turmoil deep inside, however.
Most of the ton, his closest friends included, believed he was a steady man with a calm demeanor. That was true, for the most part. In the whole of his life, from his privileged childhood through his early ascension to the earldom upon his dear father’s passing, he’d been as steady as the Thames. Stalwart companion, dutiful only son, closest confidant. It was all so bloody boring.
He drank from his glass at last, his eyes on the fire. Tonight had gone just as so many nights before. The season was in its early stages and yet the parties and frivolities had already started. He’d joked with his friends, danced with their wives and sisters, and made certain not to show undue attention to marriage-minded young ladies. Their mothers would love to snare the calm and affable Earl of Chester for their daughters. That was certain.
He’d played his part as was expected, and even managed to ignore the urge to dance with one particular young lady more than the allotted two times. It had nearly killed him. Constance Bridges, the late Earl of Bridgewater’s daughter, was the only woman he wanted for more than two dances.Her lithe body, her pale golden hair and sparkling gray eyes, were like no other woman’s he’d encountered. Last year, at yet another interminable house party, at one of his happily married cohorts’ estates, he’d attempted to make her see she was more than a pleasant diversion. He wasn’t merely a willing dance partner or riding companion, either. He might have acted a bit wild, however, and no doubt frightened her out of her wits.
He lifted the glass to his lips again and smiled. Ah, but that five seconds he’d spent holding her close, her breath warm on his cheek, her pink lips so close to his . . . he still got hard thinking about the heat she hid beneath that alabaster skin. He’d seen burgeoning knowledge in those gray eyes of hers, too. She’d wanted him. He’d stake the considerable estate his father left him on that fact.
She was a puzzle, to be sure. So serene and bashful on the surface, yet he knew she was more than the perfect picture she presented. He downed his brandy and let out a frustrated breath.
He was tired of playing the nice fellow. If he risked his lauded reputation in the process, so be it. He wanted more in his life than polite dinners and mildly pleasant diversions. He wanted love and passion and everything his friends had been lucky enough to find.
He knew Constance was the one to show him that heat. He drained the glass, letting the smooth liquor burn pleasantly down his throat.
He couldn’t wait to find out just how hot the fire inside her burned.AUTHOR Bio and Links: JoMarie DeGioia has been making up stories for as long as she can remember, and has spent years giving voice to the characters in her head. She’s known Mickey Mouse from the “inside,” has been a copyeditor for her town’s newspaper, and a bookseller. She writes Historical and Contemporary Romances, along with Young and New Adult Fantasy stories. She divides her time between Central Florida and New England. You can contact her at JoMarie@JoMarieDeGioia.comBuy Link:Amazon:  http://www.amazon.com/Perfect-Dashing-Nobles-Series-ebook/dp/B00DDEH2OMJoMarie will be awarding Loose Tea and chip nuts to two randomly drawn commenters during the tour.The tour dates can be found here:\ http://goddessfishpromotions.blogspot.com/2013/06/virtual-super-book-blast-just-perfect.html

VBT: How You Leave Texas

BLURB:   How You Leave Texas is a volume of three short stories and a novella about four young women who leave Midland, Austin, Fort Worth and Mayville, Texas for New York, California, Jakarta, and in one instance, jail.  They seek escape from boredom and sorrow and find it.  The stories are hilarious, tragic, revelatory.EXCERPT: She was late to work at Fastbinder’s Mortgage Company, and when she arrived, the atmosphere in the office felt charged. Something was up. The top managers were in an unscheduled conference call and no one knew why. No one was working, so Camille called her mother to thank her for the flowers that were already sitting on her desk.
“What do you and Walker have planned for tonight?” Elaine Morgan asked her daughter.
Camille explained about the dinner.
“What is he getting you as a gift?”
“I don’t know, Mom. I’ve looked everywhere.”
“Well, have a wonderful time, honey,” her mom said.
It was ten o’clock when Camille got off the phone. The accounting department surprised her with a birthday cake, sang to her, and gave her the card they had all signed. Five minutes later, the managers were out of their meeting and everyone got canned by one loud announcement from the District Manager.
“We’re sorry to have to tell you that you are all let go.”  That is all that Camille would ever clearly remember.
The mortgage company was belly-up. Those few employees who were retained were being transferred to the Las Vegas branch. Everyone was in shock and had no time to express outrage or disappointment because they were told to pack up all of their personal belongings and exit the building immediately. Camille took the elevator down the four floors, amid grumblings from secretaries and mortgage brokers. What about our benefits?  I didn’t take all my vacation this year. Someone ought to blow up the building. I stole a printer.AUTHOR INFORMATION:Alana Cash is an adventurer.  She’s trekked alone through war-torn Serbia and has slept in a KGB interrogation room in Prague.  She’s been to a gypsy fair in rural England, a bullfight in Laredo, and parasailing in Acapulco.  She’s been inside the New York Stock Exchange and eaten in J. Pierpont Morgan’s home dining room.  She's gone on a ride-along in a New York City patrol car and kissed a man inside the Norman Bates Psycho house at Universal Studios.  She’s been a lifeguard, legal secretary, accountant, writer, teacher, filmmaker and artist.
Her experiences are inspiration for her work as an acclaimed writer and filmmaker.  She was one of 60 US teachers profiled on the PBS series, "A Writer's Exchange," for her talent as a teacher at the University of Texas Informal Classes  - many of her students published and won writing awardsHer feature film, "Tom's Wife," based on her novel of the same name, won awards all over the worldHer documentary "Anna Freud: Under Analysis," part of documentary trilogy on women in science, was translated into German for broadcast in Austria, Germany & Switzerland.
Alana will be awarding a screen printed camisole (What Happens in the Bedroom Stays in the Bedroom) to a randomly drawn commenter during the tour as well as a screen printed Brass Nuts t-shirt to another commenter..The tour dates can be found here:  http://goddessfishpromotions.blogspot.com/2013/05/virtual-book-tour-how-you-leave-texas.html

Surprise in the Ferns

I went to water my ferns and look what I found.  I had noticed a Carolina Wren hanging around the porch last week. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, haven't seen any sign of her/him or them today. The female wren lays one egg a day in the morning till she has her clutch which can be four or five eggs. I don't know if she laid this morning or if something has scared them off. Considering they're on the cats' turf, I'm hoping they've been scared off.


















Faux Paw napping.


















My Knockout Roses.


Hope you're having a great Monday. Although Great and Monday just may be an oxymoron.

Friday and Cats 101: The American Curl

Enjoy

For my cat loving friends: Cats 101-The American Curl