Cindy A. Christiansen's Blog, page 10

I'm Singing!

Well, let's sing and dance!I have found a new home with Dragonfly Spirit Books!


All of my ebooks are now up on Amazon Kindle, Barnes & Noble Nook, iBooks, Kobo, Inktera and Oyster.  My novellas and short-reads are also up on Smashwords.

I am working to get the paperback editions up as well.  I started with my series, A Merchant Street Mystery, and they will be available later this month.

The next good news is, I have a new book coming out for the holidays!  It should be available in ebook this week.  It's set in the summer so it's a good hot read for those cool summer nights.


Story-line:  At the age of fifteen, Carly Sue McCluskie ran away from the family farm to escape her abusive great uncle Ezra and the torment of her classmates only to end up homeless on the streets of Salt Lake City.  Eight years later, she reluctantly returns to oversee Ezra’s estate and is not surprised to learn someone killed the old codger. What she didn’t expect is someone attempting to kill her.
Seth Wakely and his family have been feuding with the McCluskies for a lifetime, but that doesn’t stop him from helping a neighbor in need.  Seth is as surprised as a pig laying an egg when he learns someone in their little country town might have killed Ezra and now Carly Sue’s life is in danger.
Seth finds himself torn between protecting her and the bitter memories of the past, including what he did to Carly Sue. Good thing he can send his Border collie, Jewel, over to protect her.
Will their Hatfield and McCoy relationship continue, or will Carly Sue and Seth be able to conquer the anger which corrals them and, instead, learn to love? 

After months and months of doctors, I am no closer to finding out what is wrong with my health.  It's time to move on and try to enjoy life.  Hopefully, I will get back to blogging regularly very soon! 
Happy Reading!
Cindy A. ChristiansenSweet Romance, Humor, Suspense...and Dogs! Fly into a good book at: http://www.dragonflyromance.com 
Cindy A. Christiansen
Sweet (clean) Romance Author

A Heavy Heart

You may have heard that my current publisher, Secret Craving Publishing, has closed.  They have been awesome to work with, so I am very sad.  With the writing industry the way it is, many fine publishing houses have had to close their doors.

How can authors and publishers compete with so many free ebooks?


A friend of mine recently told me about a marketing book she read.  The company did a study on chocolates.  They sold an expensive chocolate for ten cents each and a Hershey's Kiss for a penny.  Most shoppers bought the expensive chocolate for ten cents.  However, when they offered the expensive chocolate for nine cents and the Hershey's Kiss for free, shoppers took the free Hershey's Kiss.

And why not?  When you can download all the free books you want and delete them if you don't like them, then why should you pay for them?

Well, I don't exactly have a good answer for that, except I spend a great deal of time creating books I hope you will enjoy.  Like anyone working for a living, it would be nice to get paid.  Would you go to work for no pay?

I am currently working on publication options and getting my full-length books back up on ebooks sites.  Print books will come later.

My website and blog will have to be updated as well.  The task is overwhelming.

Hang in there with me through the conversion.  If you would like to be notified when everything has been changed, please go to my website and sign up for my newsletter on the right hand side where it asks for name and email.  I will be letting followers know of the changes.

I also have a new full-length book completed and will let you know of it's release date.  It's a contemporary western romantic suspense. Yay!

Best wishes,

Cindy

Cindy A. Christiansen
Sweet Romance, Humor, Suspense...and Dogs! 
Fly into a good book at: http://www.dragonflyromance.com 


Cindy A. Christiansen
Sweet (clean) Romance Author

A Little Pain Can Bring Pleasure

I really laughed when I watched the following video of a dog eating a lemon. You can tell it's pure torture, but he doesn't let that stop him.

It reminds me of my brother's dog, Coalie, many years ago. We were camping with our horses and dogs, and we had just pulled out a couple of cans of Coke from our saddle bags.

My brother sat down on a huge boulder, took a long satisfying drink, and placed the can next to him. His Border Collie/Australian Cattle dog mix came up, knocked over the can and started drinking. The expression on his face was much the same as the dog with the lemon, and he couldn't get enough of that Coke. He actually pleaded for his own can of Coke from then on.



Have a wonderful weekend!
Cindy A. Christiansen
Sweet Romance, Humor, Suspense...and Dogs! 
Fly into a good book at: http://www.dragonflyromance.com 

Copyright of dog photo: Cole123RF / 123RF Stock PhotoCindy A. Christiansen
Sweet (clean) Romance Author

Close To My Heart...and Hands

I've been struggling with health issues and family issues, so I am taking this opportunity to repost a favorite blog that's close to my heart...and hands.

My earliest memory is being in the crib in my parent’s bedroom and crying when my dad drifted off to sleep and his hand fell away from mine. I was a toddler then, with no room to move into with a small home and large family.  All of my life, I have wanted to hold someone’s hand (or paw) as I floated off to dreamland. From my dad and mom, to my sister, to my stuffed turtle’s neck, to my dog, to my husband, that contact has always been so important to me.
It’s no wonder that the thing I remember most about my loved ones is their hands. I can picture my dad’s scarred hands with the funny-shaped pointer finger he ran a drill bit all the way through while up in the attic installing our first swamp cooler. The many times he rushed home from work and used his big hands to pour his hot coffee into the small saucer to cool it quicker in order to get out and do chores.
I remember my mother’s hard working hands as she kneaded bread, cut-up chickens, and hung clothes on the clothesline outside. And all of the times she bent down to tie my shoes while I stroked her back.
I remember my older brother’s scarred, crippled hand that the well head crushed which forced him to use his left hand, and the way he held tools when we built wood projects together.
But that isn’t all.  It wasn’t just how their hands looked.  It’s a whole host of emotions they evoked.  I remember the love I felt as a knelt by my mom’s chair at the kitchen table and held her hand after my dad passed away.  Her hands exuded the love, kindness, and dedication she had given him. Then there was the way she lovingly stroked my long hair as she brushed it, and the times she ran a needle through her finger sewing clothes for the family.
There was the time when my brother stayed up all night long holding his sick dog, Blue, who passed away in his arms, and how I held his trembling hand afterward as he told me how much he loved his faithful companion.
I remember the touch of my dad’s hand as he consoled me after the loss of my first pregnancy and how gentle this tough man could be.  I remember his shaking finger as a warning, his hand signals the rest of us couldn’t figure out, and the tremble of his hands with impatience at something I’d done wrong.  But rarely did he raise a hand in anger.
In my teens, a song came over a country radio station, sung by Holly Dunn and written by Patsy Cline called  Daddy’s Hands .  I’ve never connected with a song so deeply in my life.  Tears immediately sprang to my eyes.  This person knew how my heart felt.  My mom heard it, too, and told me I should sing the song and play my guitar at funerals.  Being the tender-hearted person that I am, I was never able to do that without crying, so it never happened.  But, the song has always had a special place in my heart. Here are the lyrics:

Daddy’s HandsWritten by Patsy Cline
I remember Daddy´s hands, folded silently in prayer.
And reaching out to hold me, when I had a nightmare.
You could read quite a story, in the callouses and lines.
Years of work and worry had left their mark behind.
I remember Daddy´s hands, how they held my Mama tight,
And patted my back, for something done right.
There are things that I´ve forgotten, that I loved about the man,
But I´ll always remember the love in Daddy´s hands.

Daddy's hands were soft and kind when I was cryin´.
Daddy´s hands, were hard as steel when I´d done wrong.
Daddy´s hands, weren´t always gentle
But I´ve come to understand.
There was always love in Daddy´s hands.

I remember Daddy´s hands, working 'til they bled.
Sacrificed unselfishly, just to keep us all fed.
If I could do things over, I´d live my life again.
And never take for granted the love in Daddy´s hands.

Daddy's hands were soft and kind when I was cryin´.
Daddy´s hands, were hard as steel when I´d done wrong.
Daddy´s hands, weren´t always gentle
But I´ve come to understand.
There was always love in Daddy´s hands.

Listen to the song at: http://youtu.be/Y5AdgQQ2j70?list=PL1F202447A211385C

Aren’t those marvelous words and thoughts? I hope I will be remembered for my hands and the love, kindness, concern, and empathy I have tried to give to everyone I meet, including four-legged friends.

Photo by Isaac MontoyaThis photo was taken by my friend, Isaac Montoya.  He asked me to go to his website and tell him what I thought of his work.  What connected with me was the number of photographs he has taken of people’s hands.  I commented on it, and he was very surprised that I noticed.  Take this opportunity to go over to his site and bond with his work.  You won’t be disappointed!  Isaac Montoya’s Portfolio:  http://isaacmontoy5.wix.com/graphic-design



Study your own hands and think about what lies within your heart.
Cindy A. ChristiansenSweet Romance, Humor, Suspense...and Dogs!Fly into a good book at: http://www.dragonflyromance.com
Daddy's Hands Lyrics:  http://www.lyricsmania.com/daddys_hands_lyrics_patsy_cline.htmlHolly Dunn Performance:  http://youtu.be/Y5AdgQQ2j70?list=PL1F202447A211385CIsaac Montoya’s Portfolio:  http://isaacmontoy5.wix.com/graphic-designHand and Paw photo Copyright: / 123RF Stock Photo Anne Frank Quote: http://www.personalexcellence.co



Cindy A. Christiansen
Sweet (clean) Romance Author

German Sour Cream Twists

German Sour Cream TwistsNo, I don't have a cooking blog.  I'm sharing this recipe to see if it is familiar to anyone.  I can't seem to find it anywhere on the Internet.  I associate these cookies with warm, happy memories of my childhood.  My mother made them, and they are so unique and different.  The aroma is delicious.

Was my mother German?  No.  Where did the recipe come from?  No clue.  And, unfortunately, I have no family left to ask.

I have made the best modifications I could because most of her old recipes had very little details.  In fact, I have a Peanut Brittle recipe of hers that says "remove from fire." LOL

Wish I could make these for you, but here is the recipe.  Let me know if you have any information to share about them.

German Sour Cream Twists
3 1/2 cups flour1 tsp salt1 cup shortening1 cake yeast, * see tip1 cup soured cream, * see tip2 eggs1 tsp vanilla1 cup sugar, divided
1. Cut shortening into salt and flour.

2. Add yeast, soured cream, well-beaten eggs, and vanilla. Stir.

3. Then mix with hands.

Half of the dough
4. Cover bowl with damp cloth and set in fridge for 1/2 hour to 1 hour. (This was not specific in my mother's recipe.)

5. Take out half of dough and 1/2 cup sugar.  Sprinkle rolling surface and dough with some of sugar.

6. Roll dough into a 8 x 16 inch oblong. (I use a ruler for this.)

8 x 16 inch dough
7. Fold 2 ends into center allowing one end to overlap the other. Turn.

Turn and roll the other way
8. Sprinkle with more sugar and roll, fold, and turn again. Repeat 3 times. (If you run out of 1/2 cup of sugar, you can add more.)

You can see all the layers

9. The last time, sprinkle with sugar, roll  1/4 inch thick and cut into 1 x 4 inch strips. (I still roll to 8 x 16 because it is easy for marking and cutting.

I use a ruler to measure and cut
10. Twist ends of each strip in opposite directions and place on un-greased cookie sheet.

11. Repeat with other half of dough.

12. Bake 375 degrees for about 15 minutes.

Can you see all the sugary layers?These are yummy but are best eaten in a day or two.  Enjoy!


Cindy A. Christiansen
Sweet Romance, Humor, Suspense...and Dogs! 
Fly into a good book at: http://www.dragonflyromance.com Cindy A. Christiansen
Sweet (clean) Romance Author

Severed Fingers

“Could you help me practice my batting?” my sister asked.

I frowned at her with my hands on my hips.
“Please,” Sis said with her head cocked to the side.
How could I say no?  Pursing my lips, I marched out to the front orchard to pitch her a few balls.
Mom and I were supposed to pick up my best friend and her mom for Back-to-School Night, and I still had chores to do.  I grumbled under my breath as Sis continued to ask me to pitch her “just one more.”  I didn’t have my watch, and I was certain we would be late.
I let out a loud breath.  “This is it.  Last one,” I told her.  “I’ve got to go.”  I pitched that last ball and took off running to the old shop where I had to grind grain for the pigs.
I could hear the radio playing its usual country music in the milk barn just behind the back wall.  Dad had already started milking the cows.  It must be late.  I switched on the grinder, but the belt on the motor didn’t turn.  Sometimes, you had to give it a little pull.  I reached down with my right hand, gave a little pull, and switched on the motor to the grinder with my left.  The fingers of my right hand got sucked up into pulley holding the belt.
I flipped the switch.  A sick feeling spread through me like a shot.  I screamed, but Dad couldn’t hear me with the radio on.  I worked my finger out from under the tight belt and stared down at my hand that had two open gashes across each side of my knuckles from my middle finger to my pinky.  It looked white and blue and frozen, but then blood started to gush from the gashes.  Nausea rose to my throat.
It would be all right.  I would run some cold water on my hand, put on a few Band-Aids, and we would still make it to the school.  My best friend and I planned on sharing a locker so I had to be there.
Clamping a hand over the injured fingers and squeezing tight, I raced to the house. Mom scurried around the kitchen, fixing dinner and talking to my older, married sister on the phone.  I ducked under the long phone cord and shoved my fingers under the kitchen faucet.  The cold water felt good.  I kept glancing anxiously at the clock above the sink.  Red water continued to flow down the drain.  When would it stop?  I frowned and gritted my teeth, waiting for the color to chance.  Maybe I needed to let it dry to form the clots.  As I shut off the water, Sis came through the backdoor. 
“What's been spilled all over the back steps and through the house?” she asked.
Mom stopped in her tracks, gasped, and told my older sister she’d have to call her back.  “What happened?” she called, running for towels.
“Just a cut,” I said.  “I just need a couple of Band Aides.”
“Go get your dad,” she said to Sis.
I tilted my head to the ceiling and let out a heavy sigh.  Dad would understand.  Didn’t he always say, “I’ve been hurt worse picking my nose?”
The minute he hit the backdoor, Mom cornered him and whispered to him.
“Dad,” I called in a sharp tone.  “It’s no big deal.”
He marched into the kitchen, unwrapped my hand from the towel, grimaced, and headed for his wallet and the car keys on the rack.  Off to the emergency room we flew.
“You’re all making too big of a fuss about this,” I said.  “We need to pick up Kayleen and her mom and get over to the school.”
Well, I guess I needed fussing over.  I had severed my pinky finger nine-tenths of the way off.  The only thing holding it together was the back skin.  Everything had been cut through—bone, arteries, nerves, everything.  My middle and ring finger fared better but still significantly cut.
A specialist had to be called and we waited in the hall for over an hour for him to arrive.  Dad finally complained about me being left in the hall, still bleeding into our best bath towels, so they finally moved me into a room.  Thick, black grease and grain dust had been ground into the tissue of my hand so badly that it had to be scrubbed out with a stiff bristle brush for what seemed like forever. The numbing shots had worn off and the doctor was still scrubbing.
As the clock ticked away, all I could think about was my best friend, not getting to share the evening, and whether she’d be mad at me for not showing up.
Ever wish you could take back that split second in time?

I’m lucky to have my fingers and the feeling in them, although not complete mobility.  The recovery was long and painful.  In fact, I wore a colored glove on one hand long before Michael Jackson ever thought about it.  It helped everyone to notice and stop bumping into it.  Even after a year, while talking to Mom, I merely touched my pinky on the door frame into the sewing room and blacked out.
Who knows?  Maybe the event did stop me from being impatient and impulsive.  But I’m afraid I still have a desire for immediate change and action.  Those that know me know, “I’ve gotta make time.”

Cindy A. ChristiansenSweet Romance, Humor, Suspense...and Dogs! Fly into a good book at: http://www.dragonflyromance.com
Copyright of dog photo: adogslifephoto / 123RF Stock PhotoCindy A. Christiansen
Sweet (clean) Romance Author

Weekend Fun Blog: Patriotic Dogs

Although we will be hunkering down in the basement because fireworks brings on cluster seizures in our oldest dog Sprite, I hope everyone enjoys this Fourth of July and remembers all that our country has gone through for our freedom.
Enjoy this cute video with some adorable dogs dressed for the holiday.


Have a wonderful weekend!
Cindy A. Christiansen
Sweet Romance, Humor, Suspense...and Dogs! 
Fly into a good book at: http://www.dragonflyromance.com 

Dog photo:  http://www.123rf.com



Cindy A. Christiansen
Sweet (clean) Romance Author

Have You Missed Me?

If you follow me on Facebook, you may know what has been going on in my life that has kept me from blogging, posting, writing…living.  But if not, here’s the condensed story.
Sixteen months ago, I started having pain on the left side of my head at the base of the skull that went over the top and into my eye.  My hearing blocks off randomly and I have ringing and other sound sensations.  I went to an ENT, and they sent me to an audiologist.  When I returned, the ENT asked me if I had Multiple Sclerosis (MS) because the muscles in my ears weren’t working properly.
This diagnosis began a long series of tests, doctors and the waiting game.  With every doctor I went to see, he/she found something else wrong.  I just wanted my head to quit hurting. The neurologist said I had MS based on all the lesions in my brain and on my spine.  Later, she and the radiologist changed their minds and the neurologist said to be retested in six months to a year.  Meanwhile through the MRI and CT-scans, they found a mass on each adrenal gland, and told me I also had an abnormal bone growth at the base of my skull.
I was sent to a specialist for Paget’s disease, but he said I didn’t have that. I asked who I should go to about the abnormal bone growth and he said to go back to the neurologist.  She said she didn’t know what to do and sent me to a rheumatologist.   He said I had osteoarthritis but my case was too complicated and it didn’t make sense.  He said to go back to the ENT.
The ENT didn’t want to see me again.  I told the assistant someone needed to look at the MRIs and CT-scans and figure out who I should go to.  They decided on a specialist not covered by my insurance and set about getting approval for me to see him.  When I finally got an appointment, he said I had fluid or infection in the middle of my brain which required a craniotomy to move the left hemisphere of my brain out of the way to get to the center.  He said it was too risky, and he didn’t want to do it.
I asked him, “What about the abnormal bone growth at the base of my skull?”
He said, “Same thing.”
Same thing? Really?
He did refer me to a spine specialist who said I had degenerative disc disease with two bulging discs in my neck.
I asked, “What about the abnormal bone growth at the base of my skull?”
“I don’t know.  Go back to whoever told you that.”
After sixteen months and ten doctors, I find myself in worse shape than when I started.  For sure, I’m not going to any more doctors.  They’ll just find something else wrong.
Many days I spend in bed or sitting like a zombie unable to think clearly with all the pain, dizziness, nausea and other symptoms going on in my head.  I’m sure you can understand why I’ve found it difficult to write and especially write with humor.
I appreciate your support and understanding over these long months.  I may still be on and off the Internet as I work to improve my health without the aid of traditional doctors.  I have been plugging along as much as I can on my latest book.  I hope you will still be following me when it finally gets published.
Cindy A. ChristiansenSweet Romance, Humor, Suspense...and Dogs! Fly into a good book at: http://www.dragonflyromance.com
Dog Photo Copyright: pitrs / 123RF Stock Photo 


Cindy A. Christiansen
Sweet (clean) Romance Author

Weekend Fun Blog: Puppyhood

Have you seen this the Puppy Chow video?
I've actually had some of the same experiences as the guy in the video--the dogs pushing open the bathroom door, chewing up important stuff, digging at the covers...
It's way cute and a fun way to start the weekend.



Hope your weekend is filled with everything you enjoy!
Cindy A. Christiansen
Sweet Romance, Humor, Suspense...and Dogs! 
Fly into a good book at: http://www.dragonflyromance.com Cindy A. Christiansen
Sweet (clean) Romance Author

Weight Loss Woes

My youngest son’s genetic makeup is much like mine—poor kid.  Unfortunately, no matter how much he cuts back on food, sugars, and carbs, and increases his exercise level, he doesn’t lose much weight.  I recently took him to a doctor who told him that doctors are learning that obesity is not necessarily from overeating and has more to do with the brain/body chemistry.  Hallelujah!  I’ve fought my weight my whole life, but there was never an understanding doctor in my years of frustration.

Accusations of cheating on diets, never exercising, lying about what I had ate, have filled my medical history.  When I was my son’s age, I decided to decrease my caloric intake until I finally lost weight.  I kept going and going until I was down to two hundred calories a day.  I laid awake at night so hungry I couldn’t stop rocking back and forth and I shook uncontrollably. My hair had started to fall out and my eyelid kept twitching, but I refused to give up.
After a workout in my room, I raced upstairs for a glass of water.  I felt dizzy and weak.  I slumped to the floor.  I woke up to my father trying to shove a glass of milk to my lips.  I shoved it away.  Didn’t he understand how many calories are in a glass of milk?  I wasn’t going to destroy all my hard work.
He tried to force me again and I fought back until I blacked out again.  I woke to the paramedics over me, having had a seizure. I finally went back to eating food, but the seizures continued for many years.

Through college, I was roommates with my skinny sister.  I thought that if I only ate what she ate, I would lose weight.  I did that for two years and never lost a pound.  Okay, so I know you don’t believe me.  I must have been cheating, right?  Honestly, I don’t believe myself.  Especially because all the doctors and authorities on the subject at the time said I must be lying. 
Many years ago when I was newly married, I couldn’t get pregnant.  A doctor told me it was because I was too obese. I was a size 18. I found a weight loss doctor and he put me on a liquid diet—Optifast.  I started the program faithfully, attending all the weigh-ins, therapy sessions, etc.  It was a month or two and I stopped losing weight.  The nurse accused me of cheating and eating real food.  I wasn’t.  The only alternative I thought I had was to drink less of the Optifast.  The accusations kept coming.  The doctor called my husband into his office and told him I was cheating on the diet, and he needed to monitor me more closely.
I was trying to work and remodel our new home.  I felt awful.  I was tired, stressed, hungry and weak.  I couldn’t think clearly. My hair had started to fall out again.  The doctor called me at work (not the nurse but the doctor).  He was terribly concerned about my blood work and he needed to see me right away.  I left work, shaking and terrible upset.  I had abnormal liver enzymes levels and later non-alcoholic cirrhosis of the liver.
During the course of the next few weeks, I started talking to other patients.  They were having trouble with their livers as well, but they didn’t care.  They desperately wanted to lose their weight.  I began to question the program.  One day, I asked the nurse why Dr. Bailey was overweight.  She told me he was terribly busy and stressed because he had a lot on his plate.  He didn't have time to do the program.
Seriously?
And my job, new marriage, remodeling our house, and ill health of family members wasn’t a load?
I’m glad the medical industry is starting to realize that all obese people are not obese because of stuffing their faces and sitting on their butts.  As for me, I still struggle with my weight and, especially, my self-image. I’m hopeful that my son won’t have to deal with those negative self-thoughts all of his life.


Cindy A. ChristiansenSweet Romance, Humor, Suspense...and Dogs! Fly into a good book at: http://www.dragonflyromance.com   
Dog Photo Copyright: / 123RF Stock PhotoCindy A. Christiansen
Sweet (clean) Romance Author