Brenda Whiteside's Blog, page 86

No Internet? Now THAT'S Fearless!

FEARLESS FRIDAY

Sometimes I bemoan the fact I am so "connected". How peaceful it would be if I didn't blog or have email or worry what I'm missing if I didn't have Internet. But when you're an author, it's near impossible to exist without being connected. In fact, not connected would be like...fearless.

Which I'm not!
 
It didn't occur to me I'd be without Internet this week. My husband is fulfilling a bucket list item by serving as a marshal in a pro fishing tournament in Lake Havasu, Arizona. He booked us at a beautiful state park camp and RV park about fifteen minutes out
View from top of one of the trailsof the city. There's a sandy beach for people and a separate one for doggies. There are trails and fantastic scenery right on the lake. But no WiFi? He didn't think to ask. We've never encountered this. My HotSpot box won't even connect me. My phone only gets occasional coverage and is so small I can't do much besides look at my email.

An old spreading mesquite treeSo here I am, sitting in a McDonald's. I had to drop him off at 5am then settled in this McD's. Nothing like a McD's breakfast - not! Just hope I'm caught up by lunchtime. Might be time to start the diet. If I get out of here soon, I won't be able to respond to comments until I'm back to civilization
One of my favorites - Desert Ironwoodon Tuesday.

When I'm hunkered down in the RV, without Internet, I do get more writing accomplished. Book four in my Love and Murder series took flight yesterday. And I got in two great walks.

Rusty waiting to go to doggie beachThis sort of inconvenience makes me wish for the days of no Internet. You can't miss something you don't have. You can't need something that doesn't exist. An elderly gentleman on his way out, stopped by my table and commented. He told me he used to be plugged in but gave it all up a couple of years ago. All he owns now is a simple phone for emergencies. Hmmm...some day maybe.


Although she didn’t start out to write romantic suspense, Brenda has found all good stories involve complicated human relationships. She’s also found no matter a person’s age, a new discovery is right around every corner. Whether humorous or serious, straight contemporary or suspense, all her books revolve around those two facts.

Visit Brenda at www.brendawhiteside.com.Or on FaceBook: www.facebook.com/BrendaWhitesideAuthorTwitter: https://twitter.com/#!/brendawhitesid2She blogs on the 9th and 24th of every month at http://rosesofprose.blogspot.comShe blogs about writing and prairie life at http://brendawhiteside.blogspot.com/

PUBLISH THE STORY by C. Marie Bowen

MUSE MONDAY Please welcome my guest, C. Marie Bowen, to Discover Yourself. Be sure to leave a comment and you'll be entered in a drawing for a free eBook of Passage! You have until Thursday to leave a comment and the winner will be chosen on Friday.   Hello, Brenda, and thank you for having me as a guest. I’m excited to be here on Muse Monday.I’m currently working on an edge of your seat, paranormal trilogy. Mix up a near-death experience with a past life, flavor with epic romance, and then stir in a few mouthwatering cowboys, add a dash hostile conflict, and you’ll have Passage—book one in The Soul of the Witchtrilogy.
The story takes hold from the first chapter and heads straight into a soul splitting journey. I am in the last stage of editing book two, Prophecy, and cannot wait to have it released so I can latch onto the final piece of the story in book three, Paradox. My goal is to submit Paradox, to my publisher by the end of this year.
Soul of the Witch first began to take shape back in 1980. I had given birth to my oldest son and taken an extended maternity leave from work. Although the story had been fighting to get out of my head for years, this was the first time I put pen to paper. Literally. Back then, I used a pen and spiral notebooks labeled #1, #2, etc. I still have those spiral notebooks.
When I returned to work, I put the notebooks in the closet and let them sit for another nine years. In 1989, I gave birth to my second son, and again, my internal muse sparked. I pulled out the old notebooks, and with the help of a friend from work, put my handwritten words into a WANG word-processor. Of course, back then, there were no PC’s or word processing applications, and no way to preserve the digital work. But I finally had a printed copy of my story. Back into the closet it went, and life moved on.
Fast forward to August, 2012. Both boys had grown, finished college and moved on to pursue their lives. I found myself extremely unhappy at work. A large corporation had purchased the company I worked for and many of my long-time co-workers and friends had left or were let go. The new management wanted their own processes and people. The times, they were a-changing, and the pressure began to affect me physically. My hair began to fall out. I developed stress related nerve pain. I didn’t know what I was going to do.
Out of the blue, my wonderful husband suggested I take some time off and regroup. I couldn’t resign fast enough. After that, I made a list of everything I wanted to accomplish during my break from work; clean out the closets, paint the hallway, and rework the flowerbeds. In my closet, I found the box with my typed story, along with a bag of spiral notebooks. I quickly added another item to my TO-DO list. Publish the story.
The first order of business was to put the book into an actual Word document. As I began typing the story, my imagination took flight. The story took over and I was filled with enthusiasm. I became a different person, happier, with all my remembered friends from the closet arguing inside my head. But I knew I needed structure and direction. I joined RWA and enrolled in editing and writing classes. I eventually ran into a few like-minded writers who also worked on their first books and we formed a critique group. I discovered my fabulous, passionate epic had to be edited with extreme prejudice. I had written each precious character with their own point of view, and included all their character-building back stories. The original work was well over 150,000 words. Yikes!
During the long edit/re-edit process, I read about an open submission at a small publishing company, Prairie Rose Publications. They were asking for Western Halloween short stories for an anthology. I had a western character and paranormal was right up my alley. I retrieved one of the “cut” back-stories, reworked it into a short story, and submitted Hunter and Lily Graham to PRP. When the acceptance email came from the acquiring Editor, I had to have my husband read it again just to be sure I understood what the email said. They loved my story and my characters and wanted to include my short story in their Halloween anthology.
Since then, I have written two more short stories for PRP anthologies. All my tales have a paranormal twist, suspense and romance. I finally submitted Soul of the Witch, Book 1, Passage, to PRP at the end of last year, and it was accepted for publication. Passage, Soul of the Witch, Book 1 published on March 12, 2015. 
I was thrilled to put a big CHECK beside Publish the story, although I have yet to paint the hallway. 
Passage - blurb: After a car accident, Courtney Veau has a “near death” experience, and returns to her past-life in the post-Civil War west. When she wakes in a present-day hospital, Courtney realizes she’s returned to her own hollow existence. Heartbroken, she knows she left behind not only a family she loves, but life with the man who shares her soul, a man she’ll love forever, Merril Shilo.
A carriage accident nearly takes beautiful Nichole Harris’s life, stealing her memories completely. Plagued by amnesia, she is confused by flashes of memory that are out of time with the world around her, and seem to belong to someone else. Only Nichole's own strong emotions remain to guide her—and as others try to take control of her life, she fights a desperate battle to survive. Merril Shilo is someone she should know, and though her memories fail her, she is stunned by her passion for him—and the remembered agony of a broken heart.
Merril Shilo is the love of Courtney’s life—no matter whenthat life might be. The memories and emotions of her life as ranch heiress Nichole Harris consume Courtney’s mind—and her heart. Courtney soon finds her desire for Merril threatens her sanity, as he beckons from a past she can no longer reach. She would give her life to return to her soul-mate, if she could only find the passage back to him.

Excerpt from Passage: The long shadows faded into twilight. She'd found what she came for—proof this house existed. There was no longer a reason to stay; and yet, just the possibility she might hear his voice again kept her waiting one more day. Outside the window, night took final possession of the day. A few porch lights came on down the block. Headlights swung around the corner as a car turned onto the street and illuminated the pavement. The headlights winked off and a car door slammed. Behind her, the room took on a familiar chill. She turned from the window and pressed her back against the heavy drapes as the echo of boots pounded up the back stairs. She gasped when he raced into the room, vaguely luminescent in the darkness. He was dressed in denim trousers and cotton shirt, with a silk scarf tied loosely around his neck. Where's his hat? Had he lost it in the dash up the stairs? That wide-brimmed cowboy hat was such a part of him he seemed naked without it. His hair had come loose from its binding, and he shoved it out of his face with a familiar motion. She stood close enough to read the emotion play across his face, a mixture of fear and bewilderment. His breath was labored, and his anxiety tangible as he stopped and looked right at her. Her mouth fell open in surprise and her heart tightened in her chest. Does he see me? He took a hesitant step toward her. “Nichole?” His voice filled with horror, he whispered her name from another life. “Yes! Merril, it's me.” Courtney stepped toward the specter.His head turned. His attention called away from her open arms. “Oh, sweet Jesus.” Merril fell to his knees and reached for something no longer there. “Nicki, please don't go. Stay with me.”“Merril, I'm here.” Her heart ached for him and for herself, but her plea went unheard.Sobs shook his wide shoulders.Her heart clenched to witness his despair. She longed to comfort him, to assure him she was there, but could not. In defeat, she sank to her knees beside the grieving apparition.“Nicki, don't leave me. Look at me—” His hushed voice, choked and broken.“I'm right here, my love,” she whispered, but the room grew warm and Merril Shilo faded back into the past. Courtney hung her head in the darkness and fought back tears. One question was answered, at least for now.
LINKS:
Amazon: Kindle Buy LinkFacebook: http://www.facebook.com/CMarieBowenConnect with C. Marie here: Website: www.cmariebowen.com

ADVENTURES IN DRIVING by Mary Gillgannon

FEARLESS FRIDAY I love Fearless Friday. Mary has a fun story for us so read on!
When we decided we needed a rental car on our trip to Ireland and Wales, both my husband and I presumed he would be the driver. After all, he’s been driving since he took his mom’s car joyriding at age ten. For many years he had a commercial driver’s license and in the early years of our marriage, he drove trucks for his jobs.But all those credentials didn’t prepare for him for the reality of driving on the wrong side of the road while seated on the wrong side of the car. We’d only gone a few blocks after picking up our rental car in Wales when he scraped the side of the car maneuvering through one of the crowded, narrow streets. Appalled, he pulled over and said, “I can’t do this.” So we switched places and I became the driver. I really had no choice. The only other person in the car was our son, who was only 18 and not legally old enough to drive a rental car. And we knew we were already in trouble with the rental agency because of the long scratch on the side of the car. So, with knuckles white on the steering wheel, I maneuvered out of the narrow lane, found the main highway and we headed off.It took all my concentration at first, and I could barely even risk a glance as we passed Conwy Castle or dare more than a glimpse of the ocean as we followed the coast. The lush green hills and picturesque mountain vistas I’d come to see also passed by in a blur. And I’m sure I left some swearing drivers in my wake. I drove slowly and cautiously, and hesitated at more than a few turns and roundabouts (more on those later). But I got us to our destination, and from then on I was the driver. A few days later, we took the ferry to Ireland and met up with my husband’s brother and his girlfriend, but my driving tasks weren’t over. My brother-in-law has poor peripheral vision and didn’t feel comfortable driving. And his girlfriend, although experienced at driving “on the wrong side of the road”, wasn’t very enthused about driving. After all, she’d come on this trip to relax. So once again, that left me. I now had a whole carload of people to help me navigate. And it took all of them to get us out of Dublin, with its one way streets, streets that seem to go in circles, crazy traffic and highway construction. But once outside of Dublin, I discovered something even more daunting:  roundabouts.  There had been a few roundabouts in Wales, but it’s a fairly rural country and I could at least catch my breath in between them. In Ireland it seemed like every intersection was a roundabout or, worse yet, a double roundabout. I approached each one with a sense of growing panic and confusion. And the whole carload had to coach me through them and tell me exactly where to turn. Even then, there were plenty of times when I turned in the wrong place and we had to backtrack. They finally convinced me that if I missed the turn I should just go around again and try to catch it the second time. For a while I had nightmares about driving endlessly around in a circle in a roundabout.But we all survived and it was a wonderful trip in every other respect. And I did get better. With the result that when I went to England and Wales with my daughter a few years later, I planned an itinerary that included driving in and out London, navigating the narrow, serpentine streets of Cardiff during rush hour and a horrendous experience in Reading where we followed the main “dual carriageway” in a circle around the city about a dozen times. We asked for directions in three different places, but were still hopelessly lost. It’s quite possible we would still be trapped there, going around and around, if a kind stranger hadn’t taken pity on us. He told us to follow him in his car, then literally stopped and got out and said “turn here” (while pointing) when we reached the road we needed to take to our hotel.I’ve since driven on two more trips to Scotland, Wales and Ireland. I really feel I’m getting much better. I sail through roundabouts and only take the wrong turn and get lost about a third of the time. People are always amazed that I can do it. My secret is that I’m not an intuitive driver, which means I always have to focus very hard to figure out where I am in regards to other vehicles. So, driving in the UK just means concentrating a little more intensely. I’m also highly motivated. In these trips, I’m always on the way to some magical destination that I’ve dreamed of seeing, and if the only way I can get there is by driving, then that’s what I’ll do!
Mary’s next book is a Regency historical to be released on May 6th.
Pre-order from Amazon:  http://www.amazon.com/dp/ B00VU8L64K

 You can connect with Mary here:
Website:  http://marygillgannon.comBlog: http://marygillgannon.blogspot.comFacebook:  https://www.facebook.com/mary.gillgannonTwitter:  https://twitter.com/MaryGillgannon

Happy Feet and Hot

  Tortuga Thursday   In 2012, on the plains of Northern Arizona, two families joined forces and began the trials and tribulations of building a small family farm with nothing in the bank but love. Farm news is sparse and not much happening - like watching the garlic grow. Watching Sadi grow is a lot more fun. She loves to dance and can
Happy feet!do her happy feet routine on a suggestion.

Frank and I are still spending weekdays in Tonto Basin. It's heating up during the day and in an effort to keep costs down, I sweat. Must be good for ridding the body of poisons, right? But it's cool at night and chilly when we wake. We've got a circle of friends here and birds of all species to amuse us.

As I type I'm in the clubhouse. We have a limited time we pay for
The youngest vendor last week.Internet and I'm about out of time with over a week to go. The clubhouse has free Internet so I'm there. Trouble is, I keep getting dumped. I have to look at the budget and see what line item I can steal from to up our Internet time. Although, it is cooler in here so as long as no one comes in and turns on the TV or wants to strike up a conversation, I'm gold.
Al, from Two Bites Bakery
The farmers' market continues to take up our Saturdays. The winter one is about to end and the summer one begin back at Yavapai College.

Prescott Farmers' MarketThat's about it from Tortuga Flats for Tortuga Thursday.

IN YOUR OWN BACK YARD by Deborah C. Wilding

MUSE MONDAY Brenda, thank you for inviting me to Muse Monday. As a long-time reader of historical fiction, I enjoy watching history unfold through characters that become as real to me as though I knew them personally. I've found that almost any period provides a rich colorful background  for characters that live and walk through the pages of times past.  And sometimes the inspiration for a story can come from very close to home, when you least expect it.
That was the case with the setting for my new release--"Then I Met You." The glimmer of an idea was first sparked when I found an old map that identified a wooden building near my neighborhood in Hawaii as a former internment center for Japanese during WWII. I've passed the building a dozens of times without having a clue. In that moment it struck me that the makings of an historical romance can begin right in your own backyard. And I wondered, what would it have been like, in the days surrounding the attack on Pearl Harbor, if two people were falling in love--and one of them was Japanese.
I began to do some research. What was Honolulu like in 1941? What happened to ordinary people on December 7th? My characters and their lives began to take shape. Though the main characters are fictional, the period in Hawaii's history is very real and affects their lives in meaningful ways. Conflicts, dilemmas, mystery, heroism and romance are woven together with actual events and historical figures--the theft of crown jewels really happened, and only a few diamonds have been recovered to the present day. But in the end, the book is an impossibly courageous love story.
To keep the threads of my story from getting tangled, I taped a gigantic home-made calendar on my wall with the dates running from early November to mid-December 1941. In ink I penned actual events that happened on each day; on post-its I wrote each character's activities and emotional reactions. At first, the post-its had to be shuffled around like crazy between the dates before I got them settled into a comfortable pattern. I was concerned that too much organization would stifle my characters, but they often managed to surprise the heck out of me!  And instead of worrying about where the plot was going, I could focus on my real loves: dialog and setting.
So, inspiration, research, organization.  Those were the first steps. In my story, prejudice, deception, and the devastation of war must be overcome. To find out how it all worked out you'll have to read "Then I Met You."    

Buy Links:
Amazon 
The Wild Rose Press 

Connect with Deborah here:
http://www.deborahwildingauthor.com/ 

Garlic and Goats

Tortuga Thursday   In 2012, on the plains of Northern Arizona, two families joined forces and began the trials and tribulations of building a small family farm with nothing in the bank but love.
Garlic is occupying a lot of time this week. Well, actually the weeds around the garlic are consuming my days with the exception of some editing time. Last month, we got all the weeds from around the plants. This week I'm concentrating on between the rows. Since it's been a couple of weeks, those babies took off and are as tall as the some of the garlic. But the rows should be all clean by Sunday. How pretty they look when the weeds are gone. Seven of the varieties we planted look awesome. The other two are sparse so we can rule them out for next year.

Sadi loves baby animals. Our neighbors who you have heard me brag on before
Aunt Eunice shows her how.have baby goats right now. Sadi has adopted our neighbors and they are now Uncle Dave and Aunt Eunice. Aunt Eunice has to feed one of the baby goats several times a day. Sadi took great pleasure in helping. She
All by herself.always has such a good time when she visits their farm and has no fear of any of the sheep, cows, dogs or goats. Which can present a problem so we have to watch her closely.

Sadi also got her first tractor ride this week. Lance has been hesitant or should I say fearful to take her on it because it takes two hands to shift and drive. But she now has the words to ask and he just couldn't
refuse. It was a short ride but to Sadi it was the trip of her life!

Exploring Family Dynamics by Jannine Gallant

A special treat today on a Tuesday! Please welcome my guest, Jannine Gallant. She's on a blog tour that I'm proud to be part of. Please read on and enjoy... Family is central in all my books. Let’s face it—we don’t exist in a vacuum, and neither should our characters. Most have parents or siblings who enter into the picture, even if it’s just on the periphery, but with my new release, I didn’t stop there. In Every Move She Makes, I take family to a whole new level. My heroine has parents who love to give advice, siblings who provide a sounding board and never fail to step in when she needs them, in-laws who drive her a little crazy (thanks to an ex-husband) and three daughters who create their own brand of drama. Too much? Maybe, but I hope all those relatives give the reader a more complete picture of what Rachel has to contend with in her life and why she’s hesitant to jump into a romantic relationship with the hero. Here’s a little glimpse into Rachel’s family…
After the earlier theatrics, the eighth-grade graduation ceremony was anticlimactic—the only bit of drama created when Lark walked across the stage wearing a summer dress that bared her tattoo for the world to see. Rachel’s mother sagged in her seat, her gasp audible through the applause.A short time later, Audrey Hanover entered the kitchen of her big, rambling farmhouse, still in a huff. “Neither of you would have gotten away with a stunt like that when you were teenagers.”Though she’d grown plump over the years, and her red hair was mostly gray, she was still a beautiful woman—and a force to be reckoned with. She cast another dark look in her granddaughter’s direction.“Believe me, Lark isn’t getting away with it either.” Rachel washed her hands and dried them on a dish towel. “Now, what can I do to help with dinner?”Audrey ignored her daughter’s attempt to change the subject. “Then why wouldn’t you let me speak my mind when we were at the school?”“Because I didn’t want a public scene. I’m handling the situation, and Lark is well aware of my displeasure. Please, can we just drop it for now?”Grace took her mother’s sweater from her and hung it on the hook by the door. “Don’t worry, Mom. Lark is in serious trouble. Rachel let her have it earlier. Now, let’s get the ham out of the oven and eat. I’m starving.”Her sister led their mother away, and Rachel reached up to massage her temples.“Here.” Will handed her two aspirin and a glass of water. “You look like you could use these.”“My savior.” She gulped down the tablets.“Is Mom giving you grief?”“She doesn’t bother me. It’s the situation in general. Lately I feel like my life is one disaster after another.”“Keep your chin up, kid. You’ll survive.”
I’d love to hear how you feel about family in romance. Is it important to you in the books you read or write? Please share your thoughts!
Blurb:
No matter where she goes, he knows her every move…
Long ago, Rachel Carpenter was a glamorous soap star. She gave it all up to move to Napa Valley with her daughters to open a bookstore near her family vineyard. Her life is safe and dependable, until she encounters Kane Lafferty at a wilderness camp in the rugged High Sierra. A burned-out police detective struggling with his own demons, Kane is instantly attracted to Rachel. And like Rachel, he isn’t sure if he’s ready to open his heart. But everything is about to change…
Someone is watching from the darkness. A fanatic obsessed with Rachel for years has decided to claim what he believes is his. It will be up to Kane to not only protect his new love and her family, but to uncover the identity of the stalker before it’s too late for all of them…
Buy Links:AmazonBarnes & NobleKobo
About the Author:
Write what you know. Jannine Gallant has taken this advice to heart, creating characters from small towns and plots that unfold in the great outdoors. She grew up in a tiny Northern California town and currently lives in beautiful Lake Tahoe with her husband and two daughters. When she isn’t busy writing or being a full time mom, Jannine hikes or snowshoes in the woods around her home. Whether she’s writing contemporary, historical or romantic suspense, Jannine brings the beauty of nature to her stories. To find out more about this author and her books, visit her website atjanninegallant.com.
Author Links:WebsiteBlogFacebookTwitter

The Apache Trail - Risky Road to a Beautiful Day

Part of the road seen from the water.Happy Tortuga Thursday. Since Frank and I have been in Tonto Basin all week, I'm a little short on farm news, so I'd love to share some pictures of Apache Lake. I don't get out on the water very often. I decided to not get a fishing license this year since most days I write. But I love an occasional lake day, and I hadn't been on Apache Lake in many years.
On the road. Water below.
The road in is narrow, dirt, and a bit treacherous. The Apache Trail
There's a story of someone who lived in a cave.
hasn't changed in decades. It certainly keeps the crowds down so that one of the most gorgeous lakes in Arizona isn't overrun.

The evidence is there.
Rusty waits for Frank to catch a fish. It was a beautiful day.




Apache Dam

There are areas that look landscaped.
Rusty licks the fish before it goes into the water.

The scenery changes.                  


A relaxing day to read.  

CONQUERING MY FEAR OF HEIGHTS - by Vijaya Schartz

FEARLESS FRIDAY If you missed Vijaya's post the first time around, here it is again. I thought it was good enough to run a second time. Enjoy! I like to challenge myself, always did. To conquer my fears as a child, I forced myself to do whatever scared me the most. Eventually, I earned a reputation as a thrill-seeker and a daredevil. One fear I could never quite conquer, however, was my fear of heights. At a very young age, I remember clinging to the railing on the platform of the top catwalk of the jungle gym at summer camp. Despite a good balance, coordination, and athletic dispositions, I couldn't get the courage to walk it. Later, as an adult, I could not stand at the edge of a cliff without feeling the strong pull of gravity buckling my knees, dizzying my head, thwarting my balance, threatening to bring me down. The pictures of workers having lunch perched on the steel beams of a skyscraper under construction made me sick to my stomach.

Since then, I went through therapy with a hypnotherapist. She led me through past life regression. Apparently, my fear of heights is rooted in how I died in my previous life. This hypothesis resonates with me. According to what I saw and said under hypnosis, I was a Native American woman, banished from the tribe for giving birth to a child from a white man. The tribe killed the child then forced me off a cliff. I can still smell the fear, the blood, feel the rage directed at me, the anger. I remember the warriors advancing upon me, forcing me back at spear point. I remember tripping backwards, the endless fall. But most of all, I remember the pain, as my broken body lay bloody on the rocks at the bottom of the precipice, among animal carcasses. I was still alive and suffered for days, abandoned, alone, in unbearable pain, before the end came.

To confirm this new information, I researched the tribe from the images seared in my subconscious and discovered it was the "Black Feathers" a tribe of the Crow Nation. And I recognized the white cliffs with the trees hanging from the vertical walls on photographs, and images of driving buffalo to stampede off the cliffs, a hunting method favored by the Crow... in Alberta.

That ghastly death would certainly explain my fear of heights today. I did some exercises, forcing myself to look down while walking at the edge of my second story patio. My reaction to the heights faded somewhat, but when I stopped the exercises, the fear returned. It's rooted in a very deep emotional trauma.

During a white river rafting trip in the Grand Canyon, on the Colorado River, we went exploring on foot, and our guide led us to a platform at the top of a cliff. As usual, I couldn't walk to the edge or look down. But below was a deep water pond, and water is my favorite element. The game was to jump off the cliff, into the water, wearing a life jacket (as we all did on this expedition). They asked for volunteers. I decided to attack my fear of heights, like I did other fears as a child. I raised my hand.

Since I could not look down, I didn't get to the edge. I took as many steps back as the flat area allowed, then started running as fast as I could, yelling at the top of my lungs. Heart pounding, I ran off the cliff into a free fall. I was airborne. What a thrill! Landing in the water was invigorating. On the picture, my jump doesn't look that scary because of the angle, but it was about five stories high, and for me, quite a victory.

I don't know if I would do it again, but I proved to myself that I could do it, and, although I still get rubber legs when I look down from the edge of a drop, I know I can master my fear in a pinch.

In my present life, I write fearless characters. In Checkmate, the hero's teenage daughter is also afraid of heights, and she has to climb the open stairs of the Eiffel Tower in Paris to rescue her father. I could really tap into my fear of heights in that scene. One of the scariest for me to write.

I write strong heroines in science fiction romance, and medieval fantasy settings. Girls with guns or swords, daring, fearless, with human flaws and a big heart. You can find my eBooks everywhere, and my paperbacks on Amazon and Barnes & Noble. Wishing you all, a Fearless Friday.
Vijaya Schartz
Blasters, Swords, Romance with a Kick
http://www.vijayaschartz.com
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/author/vijayaschartz 
B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/c/vijaya-schartz
FB: https://www.facebook.com/vijaya.schartz
Twitter: https://twitter.com/Vijayaschartz

Nothing In The Bank...But (More) Love

Tortuga Thursday   In 2012, on the plains of Northern Arizona, two families joined forces and began the trials and tribulations of building a small family farm with nothing in the bank but love.
A site on the way into Tonto BasinI start every Tortuga Thursday with the same paragraph. We're still getting through the trials and tribulations, and there's no more in the bank financially speaking, although there is more love with the addition of Sadi two years ago. Hard to believe there would be room for more love but that room expands quite easily.

I should've renamed this blog Tonto Thursday for the winter. Frank and I spend more time at the RV than the farm. But the grass is growing now, the garlic needs more weed attention, and there will be clean up to start on soon, so we may find ourselves heading to Tortuga Flats more often. Late May or early June, we'll move the RV back to the farm. It gets hotter here so we may be ready to bail. But right now, spring is unfolding and we have warm days and cool nights. Love it.

For now, we're living like retired people (not me really because of writing but no one but me sees that as a
A local hangout next to Lazy JRjob) on the cheap. I always promise to share some of those tips. Here's a good one. The first month here, I was miffed at the electricity bill. I didn't budget $62 for this little RV for power. We were still using the heater and it's propane. We also cook on gas. The hot water, refrigerator, and whatever small appliances we plug in was all that pulled electric. We made some adjustments. By switching the hot water over to gas and unplugging everything when not in use, we dropped our bill over $20 the following month. I believe most of it was due to unplugging. We have a Keurig coffee pot so that ran all the time. Not now. And I'd heard that even when appliances are not in use, they pull juice. Now I believe it.

Have to ford the river to get across Tree along Tonto CreekIf I haven't mentioned it before, we also switched from crock pot to pressure cooker. Not only does it cut the plugged-in-appliance time from six plus hours to thirty minutes, we can do last minute meals easier. And I like the flavors better, too.

By choosing a park that has three lakes close by, lots of hiking opportunities, and a fun group of people, we spend next to nothing for
Water provides entertainment


entertainment. Life is good.