R.J. Palmer's Blog, page 4

Book Giveaway: Last Chance to Enter for Sins of the Father

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Goodreads Book Giveaway








Sins of the Father


by R.J. Palmer

Giveaway ends September 30, 2012.

See the giveaway details
at Goodreads.

Enter to win

Blog Tour: Rise of the Infected by Monique Morgan

Releases October 31st  





River Black lives in a world where only the strong survive.

The earth has changed to a brutal climate and the survivors will do anything to

live. The eastern continents unleash a biochemical weapon on their enemies, and

directly onto River’s world. She will have to leave her quiet existence in the

forest and venture to the slaver fortress and further beyond, into the deepest

part of the surviving cities. If she doesn’t die first, or rise infected…





Excerpt:



Aspen was the first to speak, all

of us still slightly in shock at what we had just witnessed.



“We have to clear out the house.

I don’t know if all of them left, or if some of them got in, but we have to

know for sure,” he said, the urgency in his voice clear.



“I’ll take upstairs,” I responded

immediately, wanting to get a familiar perch from above, and recalculate our

current situation.



The fire still burned in the pit

in the entryway, illuminating the three of us as I walked up the curved stairs.

I quickly lost sight of them, the wall turning smoothly into a hall. The

hallway was covered in shadows, the dying embers of fire pits casting light through

the open doors of the rooms.



“Hello,” I called out weakly.



I didn’t like the idea of going blindly

into each room, possibly ambushed at any moment. It would be better to draw

them out into the hall, and cut them down as they ran towards me.



I waited, my body tense and fluid

at the same time, ready to spring if needed. But nothing came. I spoke louder a

second time, my ears straining as my voice traveled down the hall. Once again

nothing came out of the rooms and I walked forward, entering each one and

searching every corner, my rifle always ready.



A few were bedrooms, which I

frowned upon. It was a bad omen to have bedrooms aboveground. It was obvious

that the townspeople had become lazy. I entered one more room that was a study,

a desk crammed into the corner, covered in books. Even in the most stressful

situation, I found myself becoming excited at the plethora of reading material

that was before me. It was rare to see one

book, let alone dozens.



The last thing in the hallway was

the stairs leading to the final floor. Once again I walked the smooth curve of

the stairwell, the stone giving off a sense of protection, although it would do

nothing to help me if I was attacked by the infected.



It was dark down the long

hallway, only one room at the far end giving any light, the rest of the doors closed.

Once again I called out and waited, keeping my eyes on the farthest room. I was

greeted only by the sound of my own voice.



Taking a breath, I pushed open

the closest door, holding my gun out in front of me. I knew the moment I

stepped in the room that I was not alone, there was a presence in the room, a

presence in turmoil. I could almost hear the chaotic thoughts, trapped and

angry. I knew when I heard the low animalistic growl, that I had walked into

the room of one of the infected.



My shoes slipped on the floor as

I walked towards the sound, a trail of blood beneath me, as though someone had

dragged themselves to the door and shut it. I walked around the bed towards the

continued hissing, expecting the creature to come sprinting at me. But it remained

in the corner. I walked closer, and finally saw white gleaming eyes as it

stared at me, a hideous grin on its face.



It was a woman, or what was left

of a woman.



These rooms were bare compared to

the extravagant rooms below. I could only imagine the ones belowground. Logic

would say that they belonged to servants, possibly even slaves. It was clear

that even with the thick window covering the rooms would quickly get hot during

the extreme heat. It would be torturous to be forced to live up here. On a

beautiful day like this, they had all probably had their windows open, the

first to succumb to the plague that had been dropped upon us.



I almost tripped over the two

severed legs that were littered on the floor. It looked like someone had taken

an axe to them, and the brutality of the scene shocked me. Instead of dying,

the woman’s wounds had almost healed, the blood stopping its flow.



The growling increased as the

woman dragged herself by her arms towards me. Her mouth had started the rabid

chomping that seemed a telltale trait of the infected. Bloody fingers reached

for me, just as I lifted the rifle once again and placed it to the woman’s

temple, pulling the trigger with a quickly flick of my finger.



I took a closer look at the

carnage around me, the bloody legs and the limp body of the infected woman.

“Yup, looks like a Zombie to me.”



I wiped the blood from my boots

in the hallway, leaving a creepy trail of red footprints. There was one more

room before the open one at the end, and my hairs rose as I pushed open the

next door. I was greeted by silence, the room empty. Even the shutters were

closed, and from the dust on the furniture I could tell it had been some time

since anyone had been here.



I moved back out into the hall

and walked towards the last room, the light was not coming from a burning pit

but from an open window, the sun shining into the room. My trigger finger

tensed once again, concentrating on everything in front of me. The first thing

I saw was the bed, covered in blood. Another servant was there, axe marks

evident on her body.



But this one was clearly dead,

its head lying a few feet from the body.



“I doubt you will be getting up,”

I said, and that’s when I realized there was someone else in the room.



It was another woman, her hair

dark and her clothes fine. She was not some servant, but a mistress of the

house. She was young, not much older than I was, and she carried an axe that

dripped blood onto the floor as she stared at me.
Look for Rise of the

Infected






October 31st

2012



 


To learn more about

the author visit moniquemorgan.com

The Indie Ebook Review Site: Review of "Sins of the Father" by RJ Palmer

The Indie Ebook Review Site: Review of "Sins of the Father" by RJ Palmer: Story Overview: Bowen is a boy who is sent to a middle ages monastery by his neighbours after all of his family is killed. There he...

Review of "Dinosaurs and Cherry Stems" by Susan Ricci

I kind of had to push myself to read “Dinosaurs and Cherry Stems” at first because I was absolutely sure that it wasn’t going to be my cup of tea. Then I started reading and had to drag myself away to go take care of my day to day life. Score one, Susan, my dear. It’s a lighthearted, fairly easy read and I was so very happy that I didn’t have to slog through a bunch of heavy love scenes. I like to have a little left to the imagination in that department.



“Dinosaurs and Cherry Stems” is not so much a love story as it is a story about a journey of self-discovery and how you don’t have to be in your roaring twenties to embark on such a journey. Susan calls it “midlife adolescence” and I call it “getting back on the ol’ horse”. Either way, it shakes down to the same thing, you’re never too old to start having a little fun even if you just came out of a phase in your life where the world seems to be crashing in around you. I got a real kick out of some of the names that Susan came up with for some of the sleazy characters that the main character met while giving a go at dating again. That was just plain funny. That and showing that what goes around comes around was strangely cathartic. It gives me hope for aspects of my life.



I have to say honestly, the part that I liked the most about “Dinosaurs and Cherry Stems” was that any person who has been where the main character has been can relate to the situation she’s in whether male or female. The emotions; anger, jealousy, resentment, bitterness and distrust are real and come part and parcel with emotional baggage. These things are expected with someone who is emotionally scarred and getting back into the dating game. They’re also confronted head on in what I can only call a superb accounting of self-identification. Anyone who has been in any kind of relationship and come out the other side is a changed person whether for good or ill and Ms. Ricci does not try to skate around this. I can only assume that she has used her own experiences to better her characters and make them more real and she’s done it with a kind of forthright honesty that I applaud.



Now, onto the blasted star rating which is going to be a bit of an enigma to me. Instinctively, I want to give a five star because I genuinely liked “Dinosaurs and Cherry Stems” and finished reading with that disconnected, euphoric sensation that I only get after I’ve gotten completely involved in a book. I’m also struggling with the idea that Susan is a close and personal friend of mine. Even with that said, I have to take away a star not because if my association with Susan, but because I want to see more. I’ve seen Susan’s talent for description first hand and I would like to challenge her to give me more stories to devour. Keep writing, bring out the emotion and show me what you’ve got. Enough said.



Now you'll have to go BUY "Dinosaurs and Cherry Stems" here on Amazon or here on Smashwords and read it for yourself...

Get A FREE BOOK Before Your Chance Is Gone!

Recently, I was lucky enough to make friends with one Julie Elizabeth Powell via an incredible review she gave me on my newest work, "Sins of the Father". She's had a bit of a rough time of it but was in the end talented enough to put her pain into words on paper. The result of this effort is her awesome novel, "Gone" which I might now mention is currently FREE on Amazon. In honor of this, I demanded that she do a guest post here on my blog and she was kind enough to overlook the idea that I was kind of presumptious and gracefully agreed. So she sent me all kinds of little goodies like a book cover and links to purchase "Gone" at a 100% discount for today, 09/24 through tomorrow 09/25...



And then she let me interview her and told me a little bit about herself. So I'm going to let her take the wheel here and show off her ultra cool self...



RJ Palmer:

Okay, I already know the answer, but I want my readers to know as well because…Well, it counts. What prompted you to write “Gone” in the first place?



Julie Elizabeth Powell:

It was after what happened to my daughter, Samantha, in 1984, when her heart stopped and she died but was brought back to be left severely brain damaged. A question kept nagging at me – Where had she gone? I mean, her body was lying here, true, but what had made her who she was had just vanished…her memories, her character…everything! On one of those many ‘not able to sleep’ nights, this idea came to me…she must be somewhere else, what if?…and Avalon was born. I just had to write the story.



RJ Palmer:

So, you’ve taught school. Did you enjoy it or was it something akin to poking yourself in the eye with a red pen? I’ve just heard more then one author who moonlights as an English teacher mention how horrifying it can be to teach bright young minds.



Julie Elizabeth Powell:

I only taught adults (16+) and for the most part, it was fine. Teenagers are the most difficult, but it had its rewards. However, the most enjoyable thing about teaching was to see that ‘light’ in someone’s eyes when they suddenly understood…they felt so good about themselves. It was wonderful knowing I was responsible for that. I especially liked teaching disabled people, yes, it’s not easy, but it was fantastic to help others that would otherwise not have a chance to reach their goals.



RJ Palmer:

How is it you managed to get a son-in-law that doesn’t mind you? Does it have anything to do with the whole idea that distance makes good in laws or do you have one of those really rare ones that actually comes over to visit fairly often and lives right down the street?



Julie Elizabeth Powell:

Yes, I really do have a son-in-law who doesn’t mind me! We all see each other when we can but my daughter and he are forever working. They don’t live too far away. It’s great when we do though.



RJ Palmer:

Share with me, if you would, one memory you have of your daughter before the things that happened to her in “Gone”. It can be good or bad, that’s your choice.



Julie Elizabeth Powell:

Before she died the first time (2), Samantha was a very happy soul; she loved to laugh and was very bright. Every day, during those two precious years before she was brain damaged, was truly a delight. One clear memory was when I’d been to the doctor’s and when I came out of the room, she asked, “All better now, Mummy?” She was so sweet and compassionate.



RJ Palmer:

I noticed that you live in England, tell me a little bit about it please? I’m very curious. Have you ever visited the States? If so, was it culture shock?



Julie Elizabeth Powell:

England is small and crowded. There are not many opportunities here – everything is run down and it’s becoming worse with the recession. There are some beautiful places – Devon, Cornwall, Scotland, Lake District, for example – and we live in a quiet crescent with good neighbours. And for the record, healthcare is not free! Everyone who works has to pay for the NHS and Old Age Pension, although wages (general) are not good, so it is difficult to pay for an added pension scheme. Prisoners are better off than old people. We are the highest taxed and the most taxed country in the world.



Yes, I’ve been the USA more than once – I love it. We visit my brother who lives in Florida. I recently married on the beach in Florida – wonderful. If I could actually sell enough of my books, that’s where we’d live. It is very different from the UK in that everything is big. I do like the friendliness, even if it seems a little false at times. I love the theme parks and if I could, I would live in the Magic Kingdom – Tinker Bell as a neighbour – whoop!



Hello everyone. If you haven't guessed by now I have a passion for words and have ten books published...all thanks to Lulu and Kindle, much hard work and sleepless nights.



My eldest daughter has flown the nest and is married to a man who doesn't mind his mother-in-law though my son is still fluffing his feathers.



My middle child is off on a mysterious adventure, the like of which I can only guess...and tried to do so in my first book, Gone.



I love to read and am looking for ways to double time so to indulge in the mysterious and wonderful and delicious and strange...my favourite kind of story.



Writing is my passion, though I enjoy creating handcrafted cards, jewellery making, scrapbooking and dabbling in encaustic art whenever I can.



Oh yes, I used to teach or mark exam papers but now concentrate on writing and enjoying my new life, which materialised, as if by a miracle. Though still dislike all those necessary domestic chores that would, for me, be included in the Rings of Hell!



That's it. Thank you to anyone who reads my books...enjoy the flight!



Description of "Gone":



After Charley dies in her office chair, how is it that she finds herself propelled into the mysterious world of Avalon?



Upon encountering an essence, which insists is her daughter – the one she knows she left behind – insanity battles with fear inside her mind.



The further she delves, the more puzzling things appear, especially after she rises into the Orb of Caprice – a realm of fairies, talking flowers and goblins…and something else, something that lurks in the shadows ready to swallow her whole.



Can she realise in time what it is she must do…or has she left it too late?



"Gone" is a story inspired by a true event.





There you have it my fellow Wingnuts...You need to go get yourself a new book at a 100% DISCOUNT! Don't forget to take a gander at more titles from Julie Elizabeth Powell that I'll put at the bottom of this post just for your information, but if you're interested in "Gone" (HELLO!) find it here on Amazon UK and here on Amazon US. Ready...Set...GO!



Other books by Julie Elizabeth Powell:



Gone

Slings & Arrows

Of Sound Mind

Misadventures Of Fatwoman

A Murderer’s Heart

Figments

Knowing Jack

The Star Realm (#1 Avalon Trilogy)

Invasion (# 2 Avalon Trilogy)

Secrets Of The Ice (#3 Avalon Trilogy)

Lost Shadows



Also get to know her a little bit here at her website.



And last but not least, get print versions of Julie's books here.



Told you she sent me all kinds of goodies...Well done, Julie! :)

Just in Time for Halloween!

But don't wait until then because that would make you a procrastinator and unless you wear it with pride, get in on the action NOW!



My friends and insanely cool writing duo Wodke Hawkinson are doing a give away! You might want to read the rest of this post before you go stampeding to take your place in the sign up though or you'll be guilty of failure to follow directions. Don't worry, I'll make this short and sweet.



Wodke Hawkinson is having a Fall Giveaway. (Applause if you please AND even if you don't.)



Now onto the really cool stuff. Here's what you can win. And no, I wasn't talking about the shirtless guy on the book cover. Nice try, ladies and better luck next time.



First prize is a $100.00 Amazon gift card.



Second and third prizes are free ebooks by Wodke Hawkinson, including their popular (and rather creepy...See why I said just in time for Halloween?) suspense novels, Betrayed and Zeke, along with their three volumes of short stories.



Entries will be accepted through October 31, 2012.



The Head Wingnut in Charge (that would be me) personally endorses and strongly urges you to go here to ante up by tossing your name into the cyber hat and see if you can't be lucky enough to win! I already did and now would be your turn. Go my precious Wingnuts, go try to get some free stuff!! YAY!

Let's Hear It For J.S. Winn!!

And now from the Head Wingnut in Charge...A new author interview. YAY!!! Without further adieu, J.S. Winn, author of Out of the Shadow! That would be your cue to applaud and read on, ladies and gents.



RJ Palmer:

Tell me a little bit about "Out of the Shadow".



J.S. Winn:

Out of the Shadow tells the story of two women drawn together in the present to uncover a crime from the past. J.S. Winn, a novelist and retired therapist, draws on her knowledge of psychology to deftly weave the twists and turns of her latest mystery/thriller and create an engaging eBook that should be on everyone’s fall reading list.



For readers tired of the typical mystery / thriller genre, J.S. Winn offers an original story that intertwines the lives and voices of two women affected by trauma and violence. Having survived a rape and her husband's murder, all Becca Rosen wants to do is settle into a “normal” life, but how normal can life be when she's being stalked by a psychopath with an attitude---and an agenda. The police are no help because they're convinced, with her history of mental illness, Becca has faked the rape to get away with her husband's murder. On top of that, Becca has begun to have flashbacks and nightmares of childhood abuse, possibly at the hands of the rapist. Not knowing where to turn, and feeling like she might go crazy again, Becca hires a psychologist, Dr. Sarah Abrams, to help her unearth who's behind the crimes of the past … and the present.



Three men come into Becca's life around the same time. While each of these men has his charms, Becca can't be certain whether any one of them is the real killer. Or could it be someone else? Together Becca and Sarah start on a course of hypnotherapy to discover the abuser's identity. Will their work reveal the real killer before it's too late, or will Becca once again fall prey to this demented criminal?



RJ Palmer:

Now tell me a little bit about yourself.



J.S. Winn:

J S Winn earned a graduate degree from the University of Pennsylvania and a PhD from the University of Metaphysical Sciences. For over 25 years she practiced psychotherapy. Her previous mystery novel set in the American Southwest, Kiva Fire, garnered much critical praise. She has had a play produced by the Actor’s Alliance Festival in San Diego, and her poetry has been anthologized by the San Diego Writer’s Workshop in For the Love of Writing. Her play “Gotcha!” was selected for a reading at the Village Arts Theater in Carlsbad, California in May 2012.



She presently lives by the beach in San Diego County, California.



For more information about Out of the Shadow, please visit http://www.jswinn.com or contact the author at author@jswinn.com.



RJ Palmer:

Is there a work of your own of which you are particularly fond? Why?



J.S. Winn:

Frankly, I like Out of the Shadow because it's a really good story. I garnered it from bits and pieces of my practice over the years, piecing together a tale that's both realistic and suspenseful. I hope others enjoy reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it.



RJ Palmer:

What is your favorite part of the writing process? Your least favorite?



J.S. Winn:

I love the experience of losing myself in my writing. That surge of creative energy, when I am absolutely, totally absorbed in the writing process and my fingers fly across the keyboard.



My least favorite part of the process is when I can't find the time to write. I have other obligations which sometimes come first, and I have to put my writing aside for awhile. But it's only a matter of time until the itch to write overcomes any other priority and I'm back at work.



RJ Palmer:

Describe in your own words (for there can be no other way) what direction it is to which you aspire when it comes to your work. Where do you want your work to take you?



J.S. Winn:

I have so many projects in mind, I'm torn about which one to pursue first. I have a sequel for Out of the Shadow in which the psychologist, Dr. Sarah Abrams, is confronted with another murder case she has to help solve, all the while dealing with the a persistent problem from Out of the Shadow. A play about my husband's cancer I am in the process of completing and a suspenseful screenplay I wish to develop. And, at the same time, I'm revising a book I published back in 2000, originally titled Kiva Fire, but now called The Spirit Keepers.



RJ Palmer:

Most writers have a favorite genre when it comes to reading that is not necessarily the genre in which they write, do you write in your favorite genre? If so, why? If not, why not?



J.S. Winn:

What I read most often is what could termed literary fiction, but I love suspense and look for fiction that has a great deal of conflict and tension. I want a good story, no matter the genre, and am discriminating when it comes to reading. I don't have tons of time to read, so I want a book that captures my imagination and moves me along, no matter the genre.



RJ Palmer:

Do you have a favorite quote from a writer that you use for inspiration? What is it and why?



J.S. Winn:

“I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”

― Maya Angelou



That quote is not only moving, but it is so true. You might remember bits and pieces of a book you loved, but what you remember most, is the experience of reading that book. I try to take that quote with me whenever I write. I want the story to make an impact on the reader that they will never forget.



RJ Palmer:

Some writers tend to have a unique step in their writing process that has nothing whatsoever to do with the actual writing but has everything to do with inspiration or balance. Most people would call it a little bit OCD. Do you have such a step? Would you care to share what it is?



J.S. Winn:

The one thing I do is set aside time everyday to meditate. Meditation helps me with my focus and creativity. It allows me to sit at the computer longer and to be able to access more readily my inner truth and the story I need to tell.





There you have it, my wonderful Wingnuts. To find out more about J.S. Winn visit her here. You can also find "Out of the Shadow" here on Amazon. Go pick yourself up a copy of "Out of the Shadow" and enjoy!

Dinosaurs and Cherry Stems Has Gone LIVE!!!!

There I was being a little bit lazy (which is nothing new) when one of my dear and personal friends let me know that she was launching her first novel in a few days (this is always new and first novels are a blast) and I got excited.



I'd been agonizing for DAYS about a new blog post that let out my personal feelings about life in general without putting too fine a point on what was going on with my life while in the back of my head I kept hearing this irksome sort of laughter that was really getting on my last nerve. That would be the voice of my subconscious indulging in a moment of stark hilarity because there's no way possible I'm going to keep myself under wraps about a few things once I get started. So, I avoided the whole problem and procrastinated. Be patient, I'm getting to it.



When Susan let me know that she was launching a new novel soon called "Dinosaurs and Cherry Stems", I saw my opportunity to let someone else do all the work for me. Sheer genius, that. So I did what any good friend would do, I demanded (nicely, of course) that she do a guest post on my blog in honor of the new launch. Then, I came up with an interview for her because it was only fair that since she was doing all the work for my blog that I help out a little bit.



Here's what she gave back to me...





RJ Palmer:

So, how long has it been since you switched from eating crayons and writing stories with them to using pens and word programs? I can’t help it; I thought that part was REALLY cute!



Susan Ricci:

Rachel, It’s been WAY too long since my Crayola days and rainbow ‘deposits’, (if you know what I mean...) After I finished with crayons, I ‘graduated’ to an old Underwood my grandmother gave me. At the tender age of 10, I became a reporter, editor, and publisher for a neighborhood newspaper, The Hill Weekly, which sold for a dime an issue. We used carbon paper in those days to make copies. My mother made me send a copy to President Kennedy and his secretary sent me authentic autographed photos of he and his family, which I believe would go for a good penny on eBay , but I’m holding onto them. In high school, I rewrote Hamlet in modern day slang for my Senior English project and received an A+ for the year. Fast-forward a few decades….



RJ Palmer:

Tell me a little bit about what prompted you to write “Dinosaurs and Cherry Stems”?



Susan Ricci:

Dinosaurs & Cherry Stems began as kind of a journal after my second divorce. I thought I’d perhaps write a nonfiction book about relationships and what NOT to do while dating, but the need to embellish and entertain people overruled the original idea. I do so love to make stuff up!



RJ Palmer:

Have I mentioned I love that title? Where did you come up with it?



Susan Ricci:

Gosh, the title was mentally debated for a long time and I finally came up with it due to little snippets/vignettes in various chapters. Guess you’ll have to read the book to get the answer to that one, Rachel! ;)



RJ Palmer:

Would you be willing to share the recipe with me that you contributed to “Dine with Us”? I’m only asking this because my family says I’m a good cook but I can’t seem to get a pork chop quite right so I’ve given up. They’re either tough and dry or under done. Any hints you can give me would be helpful.



Susan Ricci:

I offered my Chicken Divan recipe and it is really very simple. Pound and a quarter of chicken breasts cubed, broccoli florets, can of mushroom soup, half a cup of milk, half cup water, shredded Mexican cheese (half cup) shredded sharp cheddar (half cup), assiago cheese (quarter cup), mix, top with flavored panko breadcrumbs and another half cup of the 3 cheeses, bake at 350 covered for 45 minutes, uncovered for 10. Serve over noodles or rice. Season the casserole to taste. I used Adobo and garlic. Although it’s a bit on the heavy side, guess you could say it’s nutritious because of the broccoli…Now about those pork chops—SHAKE AND BAKE works for me…



RJ Palmer:

Now that I’ve gotten completely off subject, let’s back track a moment. Tell me about your brainchild. I’m referring to “Dinosaurs and Cherry Stems” here. You’ve told me it’s your first novel and I’d like to know if personal experience was a cornerstone in writing it.



Susan Ricci:

Yep, personal experience and a tendency to over exaggerate.



RJ Palmer:

I see you got your first review on “Heart Marks the Spot” and it’s a four star. Congratulations!! Tell me what advice or words of wisdom you might take from this review, if you would be so kind? I only ask this because I’ve had to do the same darned thing, throw out the bashing and take the truth to learn from it. Are you going to learn from it to try to better your craft?



Susan Ricci:

Although I never expected Heart Marks the Spot to hit number 6 in its genre for free downloads, I’m ass-kicking thrilled it did. The four star review could have been worse. The reviewer did say ‘the author has promise…”



RJ Palmer:

I see a thread of unstoppable, helpless humor in your author bio for Amazon. Is this element of ability to laugh at your self something I can look forward to when I read “Dinosaurs and Cherry Stems”? Sorry, but I really found that crayon bit funny and cute…Wish I’d thought of something like that. I ate paste as a child if it’s any comfort.



Susan Ricci:

Laughing at others and especially myself has always been a great comfort to me. It’s the way I look at life sometimes—don’t take it all too seriously and enjoy the riches you’ve been gifted with. I must say, I’ve had some major hurts and wrongs done to me, (as you may recall), but I try to not let them dampen my spirit. And, I ate paste, too…even after I found out it was made from dead horses!



RJ Palmer:

Tell me something about “Dinosaurs and Cherry Stems” that you haven’t ever told anyone else before. Was there a particular line that stuck in your head? Did you have to research something that took you completely by surprise? Gimme the dish, dear.



Susan Ricci:

A few of the chapters about Cindy’s ex husband, Glen, were written because of ‘things’ I wished in real life to possibly happen with one of mine…you’ll see!



RJ Palmer:

Give me a few pearls of wisdom that I can pass on to your present and future adoring fans. You can be as serious or as flippant as you want here. The first line that pops into my head is usually, “BUY MY BOOK!” But this is entirely subjective and I want to see what you would have to say.



Susan Ricci:

Never stop writing what you’re passionate about. And conquer those scenes you have difficulties with, just by paying attention to outside stimuli. It took me DAYS to figure out how to write a love scene. I even blogged about it months ago. I don’t write gratuitous sex, but I did need some love scenes in the book. Plus, I wrote around eight endings, but was never satisfied. The ending I decided upon came from an innocent conversation at my nail salon. Go figure… The Nail Salon Nailed It!



And, please buy my book, folks! You’ll be doing an ‘older’ lady a great service! (Pardon me for a moment while I harumph at the 'older' part.)



DINOSAURS AND CHERRY STEMS



Intense emotion, leading to prose or poetry, cannot be described in any other fashion.





Chapter One: Moral Ineptitude



I’ve been rendered a dinosaur, a relic.



I’m sitting in the theater where my grandson’s rehearsing his spring band concert and darling hubby just texted me, “We should separate.”



“Oh, Glen, that’s so you,” I whisper. In the twenty years I’ve known him, Glen always finds a way to sneak out the back door.



Bastard.



It’s not his motive that’s the shocker, because I knew how he operated. Marrying him was not my wisest move. Glen and I have been communicating via sarcasm since our first anniversary three years back. Arguments evolved--how we spend our down time, his and my adult kids’ snafus, even our new bedspread, for Christ’s sake.



He had his picture taken without me the last time we traveled, six months ago (using the word vacationed implies an enjoyable event). I later found his photo posted on a social network he joined. In the relationship section, he’d written it’s complicated.



Uh huh.



I’ve even kept my mouth shut about the way we’ve been stagnant as a couple, thinking it would be better for both of us to let the situation ride for a while.



Wrong.



Several weeks ago, Ella Stuart, a woman I know socially, phoned and inadvertently cleared up those rumors I’d been hearing about hubby’s slick trespassing.



“We thought you and Glen might like to join us for a house party we’re having next Friday night,” she’d said. “It’s been a long time since we’ve all gotten together.”



I was confused. Ella’s husband, Bill, and Glen are tight, childhood friends and they’d gone to an attorney seminar together just the week before. I thought for sure, since they’re so close, Glen must’ve told him our marriage was in the morgue.



“Didn’t Glen tell Bill at that seminar last week about our personal situation? That our marriage is not going so great?” I ask.



“Wow, I’m sorry to hear that. I didn’t know and I don’t think Bill knows either because he didn’t mention it. As a matter of fact, he hasn’t seen Glen since last winter. I had a hell of a time tracking your phone number and finally called information. The last number Glen gave Bill, well, something’s not right about it. I tried calling it several times, and some woman kept answering, but when I asked for you or Glen, she’d hang up.”



“What’s the number?”



Ella gave me the number, and as I copy it I’m thinking, you bet your ass something’s not right, because I don’t recognize this.



“Glen told me he went to a seminar last week with Bill, the one in New York when they stayed over,” I said again. “Are you saying Bill didn’t go?”



“Yes, that’s what I’m saying. Bill has been home after work every night the past month. He hasn’t gone to any over night seminars in a long time.”



Ding-ding-ding!



“What about that baseball game they went to last month?” I ask. “It’s hard for me to believe Glen didn’t say anything to Bill about us. I’ve never seen a man love to gossip more than he does.” I try to laugh, but the noise coming out of me sounds more like ARRGH.



Ella sighed. “I’m sorry, but Bill hasn’t been to any ball games this season, either, Cindy. Bill hasn’t seen Glen since the winter.”



“Are you absolutely sure?” The pleading in my voice makes me almost as sick as this conversation.



“Yes, I’m really sure. Again, I’m sorry.” Click.



I lean over my desk to put the phone back in the charger, but my hand trembles and it drops.



I bury my face in my hands. Yep, not only am I a dinosaur, I’m a throwaway and so humiliated I have those cramps people get when they’re in urgent need of the bathroom, but there’s no time. Glen will be home soon and I want to call the woman who kept hanging up on Ella.



When she hangs up on me, I’m not a bit surprised.



What transpired afterward is muzzy, but what remains with me is the sudden crash at the window during Glen’s lively denials after I confront him.



Diverted from our shouting match, we’d hurried over and saw a bird, lying in the garden below. Even as we watched, it soon gathered its wits and flew away.



As we withdrew to our separate regions in the house, my self-esteem questioned: How many slams into the window of surprises do I need before I fly this marital coop?



I once heard about some celebrity who sent his wife a fax saying he wanted to divorce, but texting such a message is un-fucking-believable, even for Glen. My hands flex with the urge to choke him as I recall how he kept checking his cell during my mother’s wake last spring.



Take deep breaths, I tell myself. Focus on the stage and Jesse’s drum solo.



The pounding drums mimic my heartbeat, but I know until this rehearsal is over and Jesse’s safely home, I must stay calm. There’s forty miles of driving on a freeway loaded with wild weekenders to cope with, and it’s a definite my grandson’s going to want to stop and eat since it’s past lunchtime, and we always do that anyway.



I pinch my fingers on the bridge of my nose to keep the angry tears at bay. I want to text him back, continue the battle, but the situation will only escalate if I do, because Glen never loses his wars.



Instead of retreating, I text him anyway, and ask if we can talk about this when I get home.



He responds he’s busy for the rest of the weekend, and won’t be there.



Christ, today’s only Saturday. What’s supposed to happen on Monday, when we have to go to work in the same office?



Where he’s my boss?





There you have it everybody. If you like what you see and want to see more and READ more (hint, hint) find "Dinosaurs and Cherry Stems" here on Amazon and while you're at it, take a gander at "Heart Marks the Spot" which is a collection of shorts by Susan Ricci here on, you guessed it, Amazon.



For those of you interested, you can find Susan Ricci here on her website, or follow her on twitter at @susanjeanricci.com. Now what are you waiting for? Go get yourself hooked up with "Dinosaurs and Cherry Stems" and "Heart Marks the Spot"...Enjoy!

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Heart Marks the Spot: Three Short Stories

In Memoriam...A Repost

I remember speaking about this in 2010 and in 2011 and as far as all can be concerned, I stand by the statements that I made then as they are no less true now as they were a year ago. They were inflammatory and I got a lot of censure and I’m sure I will again but these words must be said.



Like my esteemed and intelligent husband, I remember exactly where I was and what I was doing when word reached me of the 9/11 attacks and I remember watching in horror as smoke, fire and debris bellowed from out of the Twin Towers. My two oldest children were just babies then and I was getting ready to make coffee for me and breakfast for them. I turned on the television so the kids could watch “Dragon Tales” and saw the footage on the news. I stopped dead in my tracks because I had felt for sure that what I was seeing was a badly planned airing of a movie or something similar as daytime television shows are wont to do with the release of a new movie. Then I heard the talking in the background and the screen switched to the news anchor who firmly dashed my hopes that what I saw were special effects. The breaking news story of the planes that had been flown into the World Trade Center and the terrorist attacks aired all over the place.



I remember the tears of anger and sympathy as I watched dust covered and shocked victims running from the scene, crying and screaming and so many of them bloodied and injured. I remember that the Pentagon had been attacked and there was a plane that was brought down before its attempted attack on the Capitol by a brave few who knew that that would be the last time they would ever talk to their families or tell their loved ones just how much they cared. I remember that all flights in the United States had been grounded until further notice (which cost me my home at the time because I worked at UPS during the day and so much of our job was air freight; we didn’t work for almost a week and with being barely making it as it was I couldn’t recover financially from that) and I remember the President saying that the attacks were an act of war, a sentiment with which I agreed wholeheartedly in my youth and arrogance.



I remember the worried and grieving family members talking on the phones with the news stations about how so and so had said this or done that right before the line had gone dead but that that person had died a hero for there was no denying that said person had given their life to save others. I remember the pictures and the fliers that were up all with the same caption, “Have you seen this person?”



I remember that there wasn’t a person in this country whose life was not affected by the attacks on 9/11 no matter how nebulous the connection and I remember the cry for blood and vengeance that we as a people cried in the ensuing hours, days, weeks and even months. I remember the influx of proud young men and women who enlisted en masse in the military to “Go fight the good fight against terror.”



I remember the steady rise in gas prices since and the horrible and far reaching effects that the attacks had on a wavering economy. Yes, I remember it well.



What I don’t feel when I remember the attacks on 9/11 eleven years later are bitterness, rage or hate because to put it simply, I learned what it is to forgive and truthfully, it’s wonderfully liberating thing. You see, I know from personal experience that we’ll never forget what happened on 9/11 because that would be impossible. What we don’t have to do is remember with the same poisonous and distasteful emotions that keep us from seeing our own folly. Not to put too fine a point on it, or perhaps because of these things I choose to say now and again; it’s time to forgive. Let me explain my point of view if you’ll be so kind and indulge me.



The large majority of the citizens of the United States would call themselves religious in one form or another though the finer points vary greatly. Baptist, Lutheran, Apostolic, Protestant, Mormon, Christian, Catholic, Non-Denominational and yes, even Muslim because it is unfair to forego the mention and respect of the many in any particular faith for the mistakes of the few (if I’ve left any out please overlook my oversight). All have one thing in common and it’s a remarkably simple idea; to try everyday in every way to model ourselves after the One who came before us and chose to show The Way. Love and generosity, forgiveness and acceptance, self-sacrifice and long suffering are all the most basic foundations of all belief systems.



Ladies and gentlemen, one continuous idea runs through my mind apace with the clash and clamor of all my thoughts and it’s so simple a child could grasp the meaning. There was a man who caught the attention of the world, who inspired faiths and followers and whose words and actions are a cornerstone for our very lives more than two millennia later. He has many names though one stands as the universal identifier among them all, say this name and everyone knows about whom you speak. His name was Jesus Christ and He died a brutal, excruciating, lonely and humiliating death and might I point out that even as He was nailed to a cross and His blood poured out onto the uncaring ground, He begged His father to forgive those who crucified Him. Most everyone knows the Biblical line, “Forgive them Lord for they know not what they do.” He was flogged, whipped, dressed in a crown of thorns, mocked and nailed to a monument of wood that He was made to carry to the place of His ultimate end and even as He bore the sins of the world, He cried out for forgiveness for those who took His life. Are we then to call ourselves believers and followers of Christ and still forsake the very ideals on which He stood? What about the beliefs for which He gave His life?



In accordance with all Christ centered faiths, on the third day He rose victorious and sin was forgiven even for those who took His life and for this so many of us rejoice. Is that rejoicing not empty and meaningless if we choose to forsake the very ideas for which we thank Him; namely forgiveness of our own sins or is this only important when it applies to us and everyone else whom we choose be damned in line with our own outrage? This is hypocritical and there’s no other way to describe it or give it a name.



Has it ever occurred to anyone that we fall into the trap and the game of the Jihadists when we refuse to forgive because the very basis of their “Holy War” is to inspire hate and fear in us and uproot everything that we hold sacred? In refusing to forgive we also choose to lose this “Holy War” by virtue of our own shortsightedness for we may be fighting a “War on Terror” however, the Fundamentalists fight “Jihad” which means “Holy War” and against such there can be no victory without uprooting the ideas for which they fight. In short, to forgive is to win because when we forgive, the Jihadists will no longer inspire hate and fear in anyone and they no longer have that power over us anymore.



I don’t write this to try to preach though my faith based references are fundamental to my point and I hope that I’m not the only one that sees through the religion to the idea that I’m trying to convey. I do not agree with or condone the burning of the Qu’ran for it was a mockery of the Muslim faith as a whole and it was childish and arrogant however, neither do I condone or agree with the attacks a little more than a decade ago today or the subsequent attacks by the Jihadists since. I do not agree with or condone the hate or the rage or the distrust or the cries for blood or vengeance from either side of this bloody conflict and I do not condone the unwillingness to forgive for it is by this and nothing more that we all lose in the end. Let go of your hate and find yourselves free and just for what it’s worth, the first person that says to anyone or themselves that they only hate the Jihadists because the Jihadists hated them first is a liar and only wants to justify their own petulance and arrogance. Let’s grow up as a nation and give what was first given to us. It’s time to forgive.