Cindy A. Christiansen's Blog, page 9

Broken Deeds, Broken Hearts

4/5 Stars on AmazonThis full-length book is available for 99 cents on Amazon and in Kindle Unlimited for free!

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?
Here's an excerpt:

Carly Sue McCluskie leaned her hot pink Kawasaki Ninja motorcycle into the turn down the dirt road to the old farm and slowed. She hated the idea of returning after eight years. She had done everything in her power to leave her past behind and her memories of growing up in Elkhorn, Utah. She hadn’t set so much as a foot back in the whole of Summit County since leaving at the age of fifteen. Every decision she had made since then had been to distance herself from the country lifestyle Ezra, her father’s uncle, had tried to ram down her throat.
She couldn’t say she was sorry the old buzzard had died, either. He was the most miserable man God had ever placed on the earth. She didn’t regret the day she had run away to escape him. Spotting the rusty tin roof of the barn and sporadic blue shingles left on the old house made her slow her progression even further. Just getting closer brought back years of pain and suffering from having lived with him.
And it wasn’t just Ezra. At the time, she suddenly had no friends at all at school. She had no idea what had happened, only that everyone avoided her like the plague. She had walked up to her best friend, Bailey, standing at their locker. Bailey had looked at her with big teal eyes and pulled at one of her auburn braids. “Sorry, Carly Sue. You know how it is.” She shrugged, turned, and walked away. She never spoke to Carly again.
Carly hadn’t understood what had changed. She still didn’t understand. Why had everyone started treating her differently…cruelly? Of course, she had never had many friends because of Ezra, but what had changed? Her chest tightened, and she swallowed hard. She didn’t want to remember the past.
She wanted to get this whole business of closing Ezra’s estate over with and get on with her life at her bakery, Sweet Creams. She had worked hard to get this far, and she had done it alone.
She wanted nothing from Ezra, not that there would be anything left. She wasn’t stupid. The attorney, Andrew Baxter, had indicated there were financial concerns, and she knew Ezra well enough to know he would have drank any profits the farm produced. So far, they hadn't been able to find a Last Will and Testament or any of Ezra's other important papers. Most likely, there weren't any to be found. Everything would go into probate and then his creditors would be paid off. That was fine with her. She hadn’t even wanted an autopsy, but they had insisted since he died alone. They considered that suspicious circumstances. She had no idea why she agreed since he was seventy-five and an alcoholic. And, Carly wasn't even certain why she had arranged for a graveside service, except maybe to make sure he was actually dead and buried. She scoffed. She would have rather had him cremated and not bothered with a burial, but then she would have had to wait until the autopsy and the rest of the investigation was over. She wanted him gone and buried. There was no love lost between them.
She pulled up next to the rickety picket fence that needed a good coat of paint and parked her motorcycle. She half expected Mr. Baxter to meet her, but they hadn't made such an arrangement. She slipped off her helmet, swung her leg over the seat, and hung her helmet on the handlebar. She peeked at her image in the side mirror of her motorcycle. Helmets did nothing for hairdos.
She tried to fluff her hair as she walked around the side of the house, checking things out. The place hadn't changed for the good over the years. Of course, Ezra wouldn’t have wasted good liquor money on paint, that was for sure. She looked up and noticed an open window on the house. What would that be doing open? Water came flying out of the window, not giving her a chance to flee or duck. The cool liquid hit her right in the face and soaked the front of her blouse. She gasped.
“What in the name of Beelzebub—” a voice came from the house. “Is that you, Jewel?”
Carly couldn’t catch her breath to answer. Something moved behind her. She whirled around, her hair dripping water, to face a growling Border collie. The right side of the dog’s face was black, the other white. Carly noticed the graying muzzle and light brown eyes. The screen door squawked and slammed.
A cowboy—hat, boots, western-detailed shirt and all—rounded the house and stopped cold. Carly had never had anyone stare at her with such intense emotion. She didn’t know what to make of it. The dog let out a small growl again and looked at the man.
“Jewel, leave it,” he said, his expression quickly changing and his lips pulling into a smile. He pushed his hat back and then folded his arms across his chest. “Well, now. Mighty sorry about that.”

If she hadn’t been so angry, she might have noticed his broad shoulders, bulging pecs, lean hips, wavy dark hair, and dusty brown eyes. Wait a minute. She had noticed.
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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

Hunting for Happenstance: A Merchant Street Mystery, Book 2

4.5/5 Stars on Amazon


Story-line:
High-spirited Daniela Estrada is tired of waiting for life and love to come to her in her poppa’s butcher shop. She wants to open her own doggie grooming business on Merchant Street and live her own life. Instead while deer hunting, her Uncle Benito goes missing and the area is swarming with aggressive black bears.
Practical Duston “Buck” Cooper, who owns the Bird Dog Gun Shop, has helped the police on cases with his German Short-haired Pointer and is training a Karelian Bear dog. Duston adores Daniela but secrets about his brother prevent him from getting close to anyone. He believes that if something is meant to be, it will.
Can Daniela recruit Duston to find her uncle, and will the two stop waiting for happenstance and attack what they both want—love?
Here's an excerpt of Hunting for Happenstance:
Duston sat at the red light on the deserted downtown street at twelve-thirty in the morning. Dead tired, he thought about running the light while no one was around but decided against it. He probably wouldn’t get to sleep tonight anyway. The conversation with Officer Malloy kept repeating in his head. Would they find Benito Estrada dead or alive? What took place after Benito shot that eight-point buck and why?
He cringed, remembering Malloy had told him he was off the case. Off this case and everything else in the future. He knew he had overstepped his bounds. Still, he’d do it again in a heartbeat for Daniela.
He splayed his fingers on the steering wheel and yawned. One thing he’d learned tonight from Kipp Waterbury, of all people, was relationships needed work. He was tired of dancing on the sidelines, watching life go by him without ever jumping in and getting his feet wet.
The light changed and he sped up. He’d told Daniela about Aidon and she hadn’t leapt from the truck. Maybe he stood a chance at happiness and companionship. However, Kipp had nailed it. Relationships took work, and he’d had very little experience. So far, he had spent his life avoiding any and all interactions with women. How he would have loved to ask Daniela to dance at one of the annual BearBQs. Daniela. He had to admit to himself, he had been interested in her for a long, long time.
He sighed and pulled into the alley behind the shop and parked. Dani’s father came to mind. He would not be pleased to know Duston’s thoughts about his daughter. Whatever he felt, he would have to forgo any such ideas until this matter was resolved with Benito. On the case or not, whatever Daniela wanted him to do, he would do. Officer Malloy certainly didn’t have jurisdiction over him. He could do what he wanted.
He entered the back and immediately noticed the door to the apartment open. He reached for the doorknob, but it was missing. He spotted it a few feet from the door. Then he looked inside the front of his shop. Guns were scattered everywhere along with broken shards of glass, the glass counter case and front window merely jagged pieces of pane. Shock enveloped him, turning his mouth dry. Ruger! Lahti!
He yanked the door the rest of the way open and, although dark, spotted someone in coveralls, a baseball cap, and heavy rubber boots standing at the top of the stairs. He took them three at a time, pouncing on the man and bringing him to the floor. Vanilla? Perfume? The dogs finally got with the program and barked. Why hadn’t Ruger attacked the intruder?
A small man, it didn’t take much to turn him over, trap his arms above his head, and straddle his hips. The man struggled and knocked off his own cap. Long, dark hair exploded onto the floor and revealed Dani’s frightened face. She looked at him, wide-eyed, and then leaned her head up and kissed him on the lips.
“Buck, it’s you,” she said.
“Daniela?” Duston froze in sheer surprise, not only from finding out Dani was the intruder but from her kiss. The taste of her lingered on his lips, clogging complete thoughts from his mind.
Ruger came up and licked her face, and she laughed. Duston released her arms but stayed straddled on his haunches across her narrow waist. He stared down at her, his throat so dry he couldn’t speak.
“The man,” she said. “The blond man from the camp in the mountains. He break-in but no steal. I think he plan to hurt your doggies.”
Duston’s head moved side to side, but he still couldn’t form a sentence. His brain flip-flopped back and forth between the seriousness of what she was saying and the fact that Daniela lay under him, her gorgeous hair spread out across his wood floor like ocean waves. He needed to pull himself together and think.
“Do you hear me, Buck?” she asked, leaning up on her elbows.
In truth, her words were slowly drifting into his head like driftwood to a shore. Yes, this was serious. His shop had been trashed by one of the men from the camp, and they had planned on killing his dogs. His thinking had been jolted too hard by the discovery of Daniela in those coveralls and her kiss to try and make sense out of anything right now. He needed distance from her…or possibly a cold shower.
“I forgot about the note,” she said.
“Note?”
“Wake up, Buck! Move.” She squirmed against him.
He finally shifted off her, and she jumped to her feet.
“He stuck a note or something in the counter downstairs,” she said, heading for the door.
Ruger barked and pawed at him, trying to get his attention. Daniela walked back and attempted to pull him to his feet. Crunching glass sounded downstairs.
“Daniela,” her father called in his booming voice.
Sirens sounded in the background.
“Poppa, up here,” Dani called.
Duston finally managed to make it to his feet just as Daniela’s father entered, flipping on the light switch and frowning.
“Poppa saved your doggies,” Daniela said with pride.
“No one messes with our street.” Her father’s chest puffed out.
Duston couldn’t make sense out of anything, especially not Dani’s father helping him after everything that had happened between them. And he seriously wondered why that man would trash his shop and try to harm his dogs? And for heaven’s sake, what had Daniela’s kiss meant? He shook his head, trying to clear the fuzziness away.
Lahti barked in her crate, and Daniela rushed over to open the door.
“I was going to take the doggies to our shop until you got home,” she said, bending down to pet Lahti.
Ruger growled, and Duston grabbed his collar. Four police officers stormed the room, guns drawn. Dani protectively wrapped her arms around Lahti and held her close. Her father stamped his boot and said something in Spanish.
“It’s okay,” Duston said, holding one hand up but keeping a strong hold on Ruger’s collar. “The intruder is gone. This is my shop.”
The police officers slowly lowered their weapons and communicated over their headsets. The process began of explaining what had taken place. Dani did most of the talking. Duston still hadn’t found his voice. The thought that Dani and her father had risked their lives for him and his dogs still astounded him.
Dani took his hand and lead them all downstairs to the counter where the blond man had taken the most expensive knife in the display case—a one-hundred-thirty-five dollar, four-and-one-half-inch guthook blade Alaskan Guide knife—and stabbed it through a note and into the wooden counter top. Duston pulled out the knife, eyeing all the merchandise scattered and possibly damaged that lay on the floor amongst broken glass. What a mess. Every gun would have to be inspected and re-sighted in.
He stared at the typed note and then turned the paper over. No identifying information. Dani said he wore gloves too. This man knew what he was doing.
“What does it say, Buck?” Dani asked, pulling on his arm.
He handed the paper over to the waiting officer. “Just as you thought, Dani. It reads, ‘Dead dogs tell no tales.’”

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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

Time Will Tell: A Merchant Street Mystery, Book 1

4/5 Stars on Amazon
Here's an excerpt from Time Will Tell:
Holly tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Dinner with Adele had turned into an evening of board games to entertain Uncle Kipp and his growing frustration at not being able to get out of his recliner. Holly couldn’t say she blamed him, but the best thing would have been for her and Zach to get the A/C unit installed and more of the clutter cleared away.As for Adele Abberley, Holly thoroughly enjoyed the woman, her wit and the way she could so easily stain Uncle Kipp’s cheeks a bright red. Holly wished she could banter so easily with the opposite sex in such a harmless, flirtatious manner. Any time she’d tried, it sounded contrived and awkward.McTavish jumped on the bed. Holly gasped. He ran and jumped off the other side. She sighed. Darn dog.He needed to stay with Uncle Kipp in his recliner. Of course, this had been Uncle Kipp’s bedroom until she’d arrived, but he said he slept better in the recliner. Or, was it because only one bed existed and he was being polite? Either way, was that why McTavish ran across her bed several times every night? Must be.Holly punched her pillow and groaned, trying to get comfortable. No use. Her heart raced and sleep escaped her. She couldn’t get Zach out of her mind. Not her attraction to him, or her suspicions of him, or the fact that he was homeless. Thoughts of him seemed pointless. She’d be leaving here soon anyway, going home to her new job at the arc welding company. Eurgh.Not exactly that exciting, but it was a job. Salt Lake City wasn’t the place for her. She couldn’t handle all of the emotional chaos and secrecies going on around here. And, she just couldn’t get involved with someone in Zach’s position. Not with her idiosyncrasies. Her heart felt like a limp noodle.Bolting upright, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and slipped quietly over to her suitcase. She carefully unzipped the outside zipper and reached in for one of the cans of Pringles potato chips she’d packed. Okay, maybe she was a bit obsessive. She knew they must have cans of chips here in Salt Lake, but what if she hadn’t been able to get away, or there wasn’t a store nearby? What then? Better safe than sorry. She popped the inner seal and drank in the smell. She’d save them for downstairs.The hot night was as sticky as double-sided tape. She forwent getting dressed and opted to stay in her nightshirt. She tiptoed out into the living room with her chips and spotted Uncle Kipp snoring in his recliner, McTavish curled in his lap. Zach rested stretched on the floor, his arm covering his face. She faltered, trying not to stare at his manly form but feeling much like her eyeballs were stapled in place. She forced her head to turn away from his enticing image, picturing him asleep near a cool pool of water instead of lying on Uncle Kipp’s moldy, old carpet.She pushed herself to move toward the stairs. Hopefully the old wood wouldn’t creak too loudly on the way down. She moved in a serpentine fashion around the clutter and glided down the stairs, holding her breath. There. She’d made it. She moved a few items out of the way so she could close the door leading upstairs, and then she turned on the lights and set about stuffing herself with perfectly shaped chips. Of course, she didn’t exactly stuff them in her mouth. She had a habit of eating around them in little rabbit nibbles so as to keep them perfectly round until the last bite. She didn’t understand why she did it, and who cared anyway? The practice had just become a hard habit to break.As she nibbled, the clutter in the shop set her nerves on end. She placed the can on the counter and went into the back for one of the empty boxes Zach had collected from somewhere. There had to be an end to this mess at some point. She came through the entry just as the door swung open and caught her in the shoulder.“Whoa.” She lost her balance and stumbled backward.The box in her hands went flying into the air as she started to go down. Zach stabilized her with his strong grasp. McTavish rushed down to participate in the commotion.“Sorry about that,” Zach said. He quickly pulled away and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Couldn’t sleep?”“Too muggy. I couldn’t quit thinking about…” —well, you, actually— “…about all the work waiting down here.”“Um, me too.” He turned on the fan and picked up the empty box. “As the saying goes, ‘After all is said and done, more is said than done’.”“What?”“Let’s get to work.”They both turned as something crashed to the floor. McTavish stared down from the counter at the broken potato chips on the floor. Holly cringed. Not my chips! The dog jumped from the counter to a stack of papers and then to the floor.“No,” Holly called to him, trying to shoo him away without actually touching him.Zach stepped over and scooped up the can with only a few chips left. McTavish scarfed down the rest. Holly knew she shouldn’t cry over spilt chips, but her eyes teared anyway.Reaching into the can, Zach pulled out a broken chip. “Want it?”She shook her head, staring at the uneven chip. He chomped it down and then pulled another perfectly shaped chip from the can. Holly’s mouth watered.“Want it?” he asked again.“Yes. Yes, I want it.” She reached for it.He withdrew his hand. “Why didn’t you want the first chip?”She bit her lip. “No reason.”He smiled slowly. “Because it was broken? You’re kidding? Answer me this, have you ever eaten a real chip?”“These are very real chips.” She grabbed for it again.“I mean, sliced from a real potato with all its imperfect shapes.”“These are made from mashed potatoes, and I prefer them that way.”He inched closer to her with a big grin on his face. “I don’t think you prefer the taste. I think you prefer the fact that they are all identical and stacked together perfectly.”“I do not.” Holly realized that came out a little too tersely. “I mean, it’s only logical that you can fit more into a smaller space if they are the same and together. Other chip bags are too bulky…and…and you know kids like to go down the store aisles and punch them so they are nothing more than chip dregs.”Zach let out a hearty laugh. McTavish whined and looked at her and then Zach.“You’ve finished your snack, McTavish,” she said, waving a hand toward the stairs. “Now go to bed, you chip hound.”McTavish bolted for safety. Zach continued to grin at her. What gave him the right to psychoanalyze her about her eating habits? What about…What about him and his lemon fetish? Lemon candy, lemon pie, lemon chicken… He obviously had obsessions.Zach chomped down the chip while pulling out another perfect one. “Last one. Do you want it?”Her mouth yearned for the salty crunch. Yes, she wanted the darn chip. Although she wanted to nibble it around and around in a circle without an audience. She remembered the other chip can neatly tucked away in her suitcase upstairs. “No, thank you. I’m just going to get back—”His teeth crunched into the chip. Then he tipped the can up and poured the remaining crumbs into his mouth, swallowing them down greedily. Her fingers stiffened straight, wanting to slap him a good one. Heavens. How could she begrudge a homeless man a few potato chips? She exhaled. Let him enjoy his little game. Two could play at this.“Guess I’ll be eating all the glazed lemon cookies by myself tomorrow,” she said.The smile disappeared from his face and he stopped chewing. “You wouldn’t.”“Every last one, mister.”He looked down at the empty can. “And if I replace this can of chips…what then?”“Then I’m pretty sure at least six cookies will have your name on them.”He hesitated.“Okay. Maybe a dozen,” she said, picking up a stack of newspapers.“That’s better. A dozen glazed lemon cookies in exchange for a real bag of potato chips.” He nodded.“No way. I want a can of Pringlesoriginal potato chips.”“I’m telling you, real chips are better.” He swept up twice the newspapers she could carry in his arms. “Variety counts. You get folded chips, slightly brown chips, chips with bubbles—”“I’ll take my perfect chips, if you don’t mind.”He dropped the stack on the counter and pulled her into his arms. He eyed her up and down. “Somerset Maugham once said, ‘Perfection has one grave defect: it is apt to be dull.’” His gaze fixated on her lips.Potato chip flavoring drifted toward her from his rapid breaths.She bit at her bottom lip. “Are-are you saying I’m not perfect?” He pulled her closer. “Oh, you’re perfect, all right.”
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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

Caskets and Corruption

4.5/5 Stars on Amazon
Sharing an excerpt from Caskets and Corruption:

Phillip flinched away from Lizzie’s electrifying touch. “The cemetery, Miss Cantrell.”He tried to pull back inside the safety of the thick steel gate he’d built around his heart over the last two years, but Lizzie didn’t help matters. He thought he’d locked that gate and thrown away the key. Lizzie obviously could cut through steel with just her touch. He automatically tugged at his turtleneck, trying to remember the reason for his reclusiveness.He’d closed himself off since that horrifying summer day, and he had no intention of letting down his guard now. But somehow, she drew him like an alcoholic to a bottle of whiskey. He needed some distance from her to clear his mind. Why did she have to be involved?“Excuse me? Did you say cemetery?” Disbelief rounded her eyes.“Yes, cemetery, Miss Cantrell. Tonight.”“You expect me to go with you to a haunted graveyard at night, in a creepy hearse with a dead body full of illegal drugs? I’ll be seeing you, Mr. Van Dyke.” Lizzie raced for the door. “Good luck with your whole little mystery here. I’m not ready for this much excitement in my life.”He managed to jump in her path and slam the door closed, her scent tangling his emotions all over again. “What do you intend to do?”“Get on with my life. By the way, I don’t want your referrals to my portrait business. Hire my sister back.” She tried for the knob again.He kept the door firmly shut, not relishing standing so close to her. He just had to stay behind those iron bars he’d created. He flexed his fingers and tried to regain his composure. “We have been over this, Miss Cantrell. It’s not safe.”“I’ll take my chances. I’m not going to any haunted graveyard. Are you going to keep me a prisoner here? I swear I know what to do with these stiletto heels.”He glared down at her shoes and took a step back. “Fine, but I’ve heard rumors about what the drug cartel will do to anyone who crosses them.”

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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

Weekend Fun Blog: Romping Through the Snow!

Keep the holiday stress down with this fun video showing dogs in the snow.
Smile whatever you are doing this weekend.




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

What’s Vital that Our Administration is Currently Forgetting?

Shirley Temple and Toto (Terry)Let’s face it—our administration is facing many important issues that all need to be resolved. Even the headings are overwhelming:Electoral Domestic PolicyImmigrationSocialHealthcareEconomicForeign PolicyEducationEnvironmentalScience
Below, I have compiled a partial list of some of the concerns facing this nation.  You can vote on these issues at: https://www.isidewith.com/polls
If you take a look at the list below, these issues are enough to make your head spin.  I believe one of the problems is that our administration doesn’t seem to resolve any of the concerns. One of the issues they are still debating is whether to criminally charge Wall Street executives for their roles in the 2008 subprime mortgage crisis. Hello? Haven't these people ever heard of the adage, “Doing nothing gets you nothing?” Good or bad, let’s make the best decision we can and move forward.
And for heaven’s sake, why can’t we learn from our past?
When Franklin Roosevelt was elected president in 1932, he dedicated himself to turning the country around from the depths of the Great Depression. He is still one of the top three most popular presidents, up there with George Washington and Abraham Lincoln.  He turned the country’s attention away from poverty and fear and toward optimism and faith.
He gave us the Work Projects Administration (WPA) which employed millions of unemployed people to construct public buildings and roads. Almost every community in the United States had a new park, bridge or school constructed by the agency. In a much smaller but more famous project, the WPA employed musicians, artists, writers, actors and directors in large arts, drama, media, and literacy projects. My mother was taught how to play the piano by one of these talented musicians.
Another great thing that came from President Franklin Roosevelt and this time period was Shirley Temple and her uplifting movies. Movies offered a chance for people to escape and for strangers to come together. President Franklin Roosevelt proclaimed, "As long as our country has Shirley Temple, we will be all right."
If you think we are not in the same emotional upheaval as we were during the Great Depression, all you have to do is look at the number of mass shootings this year alone: Mass shootings—353, Killed—462, Injured—1,312.
Better mental health care is an issue, but our administration could do a lot to bolster the overall mood of this country.  I believe it is as important as all of the issues listed above.  Let me highlight some of the current top shows on television these days to prove my point. Read the highlighted words from their own plot descriptions:
NCIS:  Naval Criminal Investigative Service Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs leads a group of colorful personalities in investigating crimes -- ranging from murder and espionage to terrorism -- that have evidence connected to Navy and Marine Corps personnel. 
The Supernatural:  This haunting series follows the thrilling yet terrifying journeys of Sam and Dean Winchester, two brothers who face an increasingly sinister landscape as they hunt monsters. After losing their mother to a supernatural force, the brothers were raised by their father as soldiers who track mysterious and demonic creatures. Violent memories and relationship-threatening secrets add additional burdens on Sam and Dean as they investigate all things that go bump in the night. As old tricks and tools are rendered useless and friends betray them, the brothers must rely on each other as they encounter new enemies.

CSI: Las Vegas A dedicated group of forensic investigators at the Las Vegas Crime Lab works to solve often-grisly crimes in Sin City. Heading up the graveyard shift (an appropriate term in this case) is supervisor D.B. Russell, a "Left Coast" Sherlock Holmes who devours crime novels.
Criminal Minds:  An elite squad of FBI profilers analyses the country's most-twisted criminal minds, anticipating the perpetrators' next moves before they can strike again. Each member of the "mind hunter" team brings his or her expertise to pinpoint predators' motivations and identify emotional triggers in order to stop them.
Law and Order: Special Victims Unit:  Detectives who are part of the NYPD's Special Victims Unit investigate crimes against the vulnerable. While the focus of other shows in the "Law & Order" franchise is primarily on murder cases, the SVU detectives frequently deal with rape and assault, in which a survivor assists with the investigation.
I don’t know about you, but these shows are far from uplifting. What message are we sending young people?  How can they stay positive?  I don’t think people realize the mental impact of all these negative emotions and topics.
If I were to rate what is important to our country at this time, it would be to bolster the mood of our country.


Cindy A. ChristiansenSweet Romance, Humor, Suspense...and Dogs!  Fly into a good book at: http://www.dragonflyromance.com 
Shirley Temple and Toto photo: http://davelandblog.blogspot.com/2012/03/screen-gem-saturdays-shirley-had-toto.html


Political Issues Survey
Should a photo ID be required to vote?Should every person purchasing a gun be required to pass a criminal and public safety background check?Should there be term limits set for members of Congress?Should drug use be decriminalized?Should corporations and unions be permitted to fund advertisements backing political candidates through political action committees (Super PACS)?Should the NSA be allowed to collect basic metadata of citizen’s phone calls such as numbers, timestamps, and call durations?Should internet service providers be allowed to prioritize traffic for websites that pay higher rates than their competitors?Should the government raise the retirement age for Social Security?Should the redrawing of Congressional districts be controlled by an independent, non-partisan commission?Should illegal immigrants be given access to government-subsidized healthcare?Should there be stronger measures to increase our border security?Should illegal immigrants be offered in-state tuition rates at public colleges within their residing state?Should immigrants to the U.S. be required to learn English?Should children of illegal immigrants be granted citizenship?Should law enforcement be allowed to detain illegal immigrants for minor crimes so that federal immigration authorities can take custody of them?Should illegal immigrants working in the U.S. be granted temporary amnesty?What stand should be taken on abortion?Should legalization of same sex marriage be allowed?Should a business, based on religious beliefs, be able to deny service to a customer?Should the U.S. remove references to God from currency, federal buildings, national monuments and other aspects of government?Should the government require health insurance companies to provide free birth control?Should the federal government allow the death penalty?Should terminally ill patients be allowed to end their lives via assisted suicide?Should companies be required to include women on their board of directors?Should the federal government allow states to fly the confederate flag?Should the Affordable Care Act (Obamacare) be supported?Should the federal government require children to be vaccinated for preventable diseases?Should the federal government support the legalization of marijuana?Should the federal government increase funding of health care for low income individuals (Medicaid)?Should employers be required to pay men and women, who perform the same work, the same salary?Should able-bodied, mentally capable adults who receive welfare be required to work?Should all welfare recipients be tested for drugs?Should the government raise the federal minimum wage?Should the government make cuts to public spending in order to reduce the national debt?Should companies be required to provide full-time employees with paid leave for the birth of a child or sick family member?Should the U.S. reduce corporate income tax rates?Should Wall Street executives be criminally charged for their roles in the 2008 subprime mortgage crisis?Should the government increase the tax rate on profits earned from the sale of stocks, bonds, and real estate?Should the federal government subsidize U.S. farmers?Should pension plans for federal, state and local government workers be transitioned into private plans?Should sales tax be increased in order to reduce property taxes?Should the U.S. accept refugees from Syria?Should the U.S. formally declare war on ISIS?Should foreign terrorism suspects be given constitutional rights?Should the government decrease military spending?Should the U.S. send ground troops into Syria to fight ISIS?Should the U.S. continue to support Israel?Should the U.S. maintain a presence at the United Nations?Should the military fly drones over foreign countries to gain intelligence and kill suspected terrorists?Should the U.S. conduct targeted airstrikes on Iran’s nuclear weapons facilities?Should the U.S. prevent Russia from conducting airstrikes in Syria?Should the U.S. continue NSA surveillance of its allies?Should the government increase environmental regulations to prevent global warming?Should National Parks continue to be preserved and protected by the federal government?Should the United States require labeling of genetically engineered foods?Should hydraulic fracking be used to extract oil and natural gas resources?Should the U.S. expand offshore oil drilling?Should the federal government continue to give tax credits and subsidies to the wind power industry?Should the government fund space travel?
Answer the poll at: https://www.isidewith.com/polls
Cindy A. Christiansen
Sweet (clean) Romance Author

In The Dog House With Me: Gail Pallotta

Help me welcome Gail Pallotta to my blog.She has a new book out just in time for Christmas called, Messages: Poems and Short Stories to Live By !
About MessagesFind inspiration for our hectic times in these straight-forward poems for happy and sad days.
Find history, warmth and a touch of the paranormal in three stories.
Getting the Goat peeks into the early 1900's when mountain life was tough.Does Mama's advice hold true today?
In Stitches in Love Rose's deep love for her grandmother motivates others to share their gifts.Does Rose reap her reward?
Robert Horner is tempted in The Stranger, but does he succumb to the lure?
Print copies coming soon!
Excerpt from the Poems"...Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: Love your neighbor as yourself." Matthew: 22: 37 - 39
Refreshed
Sometimes lifeuncovers a sharp, ugly snaresnarling, like a grizzly bear.Reluctantly we confesswe’re in a forest of distresswhere, hopes, like leaveshave fallen off the trees.Winter icicles we seehanging on a barren tree.Life seems hard and cold,and we feel very old.How our life has past."Where did it go?" we ask.Then like miracles untold,new joys unfold.Love brings blossoms of spring.The forest begins to sing.Empty branchesbear new leaves.With promise, our heart dances,and our soul no longer grieves.Looking up, toward the sun,we say, “My, my life’s just begun.”
Excerpt from Stitches in Love "Hi. I'm home for the whole month of June. I'm coming to visit you every day."
Grandma Jackie lifted her head ever so slightly toward Rose, but she didn't utter a word, and no signs of life flickered in her eyes.
Rose stood and weakness swept over her like a hurricane coming ashore. She let herself out and locked the door with the key Grandma Jackie had given her seven years ago—the year Rose had turned sixteen. Sobs erupted from the depths of her soul as she slipped into her two-door coupe and drove to 143 Broadway.
Within minutes she walked toward the white-columned two-story home while she bent double holding her stomach. It was a hot, dry day in Springdale, Georgia. No breeze stirred, and the humidity as high as a kite. Air conditioning caressed Rose's face when she opened the front door. Clearing the foyer, she hurried up the oak staircase to her room. Tears flooding her eyes blurred the flowers on the pink and green comforter as she stepped to it and fell face-down on the bed.
Amy, Rose's mama, had called last week about Grandma Jackie's health. Rose could hear her distressed words now.
"Mama hasn't been the same since Dad died. She's been slipping away little by little. The doctors say nothing is wrong other than high blood pressure and cholesterol, but she's just not herself I've hired Miz Mary Clark, a local caretaker, to come during the day to make sure she takes her medicine and to tend to her personal needs."
That's why Rose had come home to see Grandma Jackie. It was worse than she had suspected. There must be something someone could do. She sat up and wiped her cheeks. What if she picked the peaches off the tree and told Grandma Jackie to make a pie? No. The last time Rose talked to Grandma Jackie on the phone she'd told Rose cooking at the homeless shelter wore her out.
Doing things for others pleased Grandma Jackie, but maybe she'd reached a time when she needed others to do something for her. What? She liked to read, but that wouldn't make her want to live. Sweat popped out on Rose's forehead. What did Grandma Jackie love enough to get up and do every day?

Buy Link for Messages: Poems and Short Stories to Live By:
Amazon

Gail's Bio:

Award-winning author Gail Pallotta’s a wife, Mom, swimmer and bargain shopper who loves God, beach sunsets and getting together with friends and family. A former regional writer of the year for American Christian Writers Association, she won Clash of the Titles in 2010. Her teen book, Stopped Cold, was a best-seller on All Romance eBooks, finished fourth in the Preditors and Editors readers’ poll, and was a finalist for the 2013 Grace Awards. She’s published short stories in “Splickety” magazine and Sweet Freedom with a Slice of Peach Cobbler.Some of her published articles appear in anthologies while two are in museums. Coming soon: Barely above Water from Prism Book Group. Visit Gail’s web site at http://www.gailpallotta.com

Other Books by Gail:



Stopped Cold Buy Links:

Amazon

Smashwords

Barnes and Noble









Mountain of Love and Danger Buy Links:
Smashwords Amazon 

Barnes and Noble
Kobo Cindy A. Christiansen
Sweet (clean) Romance Author

One Particular Thanksgiving

Swamped!
I got Sparky and Roo off to school and still had baking and cleaning to do. I’d worked on Roo’s first grade costume the night before for his Thanksgiving program and had fallen behind. He had his choice of being a Pilgrim or an Indian, and he had chosen to be a Pilgrim. I had to head over to the school that afternoon to join in the fun and see their program.
I had the pumpkin pies in the oven when the phone rang.
“Mrs. Christiansen?”
“Yes,” I said, hot pad in hand.
“This is your son’s teacher.”
“Is everything okay?” I asked.
She sighed. “Has something traumatic happened to your son?”
“What do you mean?”
“We were practicing our Thanksgiving program and he went…berserk. He’s crying, and we can’t calm him down. You’ll have to come and get him.”
“Seriously? What about the program?”
“Honestly, I, the principal, and the counselor think it would be best for everyone if you take him home. He’s beating up all the Indians.”
My mouth hung open. The timer went off for the pies.
“I’ll…I’ll be right there.” 
I quickly pulled the pies out of the oven and set them on the cooling rack. What had gotten into Roo? He’d never hurt anyone before. Beating up the Indians? I drove to school, shaking my head. I thought I would go inside and talk with the counselor, but when I pulled up in front of the school, Roo and his teacher were outside.
Tears rolled down little Roo’s cheeks. What could have upset him like this?
He climbed up in the truck and hugged me, snot and tears running everywhere.
“Have a…good Thanksgiving,” his teacher said, turning and leaving.
I grabbed some tissues from the glove box and wiped his face.
“Now just what has you so upset, little man?” I asked, looking at him in his cute costume.
The tears poured again. I couldn’t make out a single word he said. I finished the drive home, pulled him into my arms and headed into the house. After more tissues and a glass of water, he finally calmed down again.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked.
His little chin quivered. I tried to take off his hat, but he wouldn’t let me.
He sniffed. “Pilgrims are like cowboys, aren’t they, Mommy?” he asked.
My brow furrowed. What was he talking about? “Yeeesss. I guess so,” I said.
“Those Indians were saying really bad things about the Pilgrims. That’s the same as saying really bad things about cowboys, and Uncle Randy was a cowboy.” Tears sprung to his eyes again.
Mine too.
He wrapped his arms around me and sobbed.
Stunned and shocked, I hugged him back, trying not to burst into full sobs myself. Roo had adored my brother, Randy, who lived on a farm, rode horses, and wore a cowboy hat and boots. Roo had done everything his uncle did, including only taking off his hat at the dinner table when Uncle Randy did.


My brother died at the age of forty-nine when Roo was only two years old—over four years before that day. How did Roo even remember him? How could the bond between them be so strong?
It was not the last time little Roo broke down over the loss of his Uncle Randy. The issues of traumatic incidences came up repeatedly with future autism therapists and usually culminated into a discussion about his loss of his uncle.
That Thanksgiving, as we said what we were thankful for, Roo smiled.
“I’m thankful,” he began, “for my mommy, my daddy, my brother and my Uncle Randy.” He took off his cowboy hat and dug into a slice of ham.
Happy Thanksgiving and safe travels!


Cindy

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

Weekend Fun Blog: Dogs at Thanksgiving!

It's that thankful time of year again! Enjoy this great video and hug your dog(s).
 
Have a very special Thanksgiving holiday!

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

Dog and turkey photo: http://www.123rf.com


Cindy A. Christiansen
Sweet (clean) Romance Author

Weekend Fun Blog: Autumn Leaves

Yep! It's the last of the autumn leaves as autumn leaves for another year.

What should we be doing?

  I think we should put our cameras down and jump in the fun with our dogs.

What do you think?




Take time to smell the...leaves!

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

Copyright: leoba / 123RF Stock PhotoCindy A. Christiansen
Sweet (clean) Romance Author