Vicki Batman's Blog, page 48

Handbag & Book: to drawstring or not #Rssos #MFRWorg #accessories #handbag

Handbag & Book with 
Vicki Batman
Drawstrings are back in style! While vacationing, I passed a store window and saw in incredible electric blue drawstring handbag and fell in love. But the price--nononono. Then I remembered I have a vintage drawstring. I'd bought this black vinyl one several years ago at an antique mall. It's so neat with the great pockets outside and a good side. It does lend itself to slinging over the shoulders, too, and holds my belongings easily. 

Handsome told me to buy the electric blue one for my Annual Fun Day, but so far, I'm passing. It's a hard call since I don't have an electric blue handbag; however, the price!!! And since I have the opportunity to test drive this one I have carried for a while, I can decide after if it is really what I want. 


And in case you missed, Annual Fun Day was also the launch of Temporarily Insane, my second romantic comedy mystery. Here's a bit about it:
Bad job. Wrong love. And Murder.  Hattie Cooks takes a job at an accounting firm where mishaps and murders are definitely fishy.Excerpt:Trixie had some nerve.“Stop it, Hattie!” Her reprimand, the one which had shot a stabbing pain to my right eye, sounded terribly out of character, like she had little patience for me. Ordinarily, she was the nicest person I knew, didn’t have a mean bone in her body. The kind who rescued animals, picked up trash at Sommerville Park, and prepared food for the elderly.      Not today. I narrowed my eyes and crossed my arms across my chest in a school girl flaunt.Trixie tilted forward in her desk chair, her bosom almost resting on her desk. “This nonsense has to end. Your moan sounded like an obscure breed of a bizarre...untamed...wounded animal.” She returned to an upright and seated position and in tiny increments, rotated her chair from side-to-side, waiting for me to say something not stupid.In truth, Trixie had pounded the nail on the head. I had nothing to add. My whole life had turned into an obscure, bizarre, bad reflection of itself, thus wounding me to my core. I sighed and pouted an if only. Don’t go there.My funsister friend owned the employment agency Jobs Inc., and on occasion, she’d happily assisted me in finding temporary work since my dream job had been flushed down the proverbial toilet a few months back, thus soiling my picture perfect life. For this newest assignment she’d located, I’d be employed as an administrative assistant for the managing partner at Northside, Lancaster, and Brookside, Certified Public Accountants, headquartered in my hometown of Sommerville.   At first, she’d sounded oh-so pleasant when we began our yak about the opportunity. “Think accounting,” she’d teased, followed by a small chuckle.Her laugh had spoken volumes of Encyclopedia Britannica proportions.
Find Temporarily Insane at: Amazon ebook  Amazon PBTWRP ebook  TWRP PB

So any of you willing to jump on the drawstring handbag bandwagon?

BSP: It's Launch Day!!! for Temporarily Insane #MFRWorg #Rssos #TWRP #RB4U

It’s Happy Launch Day!
I'm blushing and bursting with pride to announce my second book in my romantic comedy mystery series, Temporarily Insane, is now available.


Each work most of we authors write is our baby and today, mine is out in the big wide world. It's laugh out loud funny, packed with emotion, a frustrating relationship with a to-die for hero, and a wacky cast of family and friends.


Here's an excerpt:


Trixie had some nerve.
“Stop it, Hattie!”
Her reprimand, the one which had shot a stabbing pain to my right eye, sounded terribly out of character, like she had little patience for me. Ordinarily, she was the nicest person I knew, didn’t have a mean bone in her body. The kind who rescued animals, picked up trash at Sommerville Park, and prepared food for the elderly.     
Not today. I narrowed my eyes and crossed my arms across my chest in a school girl flaunt.
Trixie tilted forward in her desk chair, her bosom almost resting on her desk. “This nonsense has to end. Your moan sounded like an obscure breed of a bizarre...untamed...wounded animal.” She returned to an upright and seated position and in tiny increments, rotated her chair from side-to-side, waiting for me to say something not stupid.
In truth, Trixie had pounded the nail on the head. I had nothing to add. My whole life had turned into an obscure, bizarre, bad reflection of itself, thus wounding me to my core. I sighed and pouted an if only.
Don’t go there.
My funsister friend owned the employment agency Jobs Inc., and on occasion, she’d happily assisted me in finding temporary work since my dream job had been flushed down the proverbial toilet a few months back, thus soiling my picture perfect life. For this newest assignment she’d located, I’d be employed as an administrative assistant for the managing partner at Northside, Lancaster, and Brookside, Certified Public Accountants, headquartered in my hometown of Sommerville.  
At first, she’d sounded oh-so pleasant when we began our yak about the opportunity. “Think accounting,” she’d teased, followed by a small chuckle.
Her laugh had spoken volumes of Encyclopedia Britannica proportions.
Let's get to know Stewart Steems, Hattie's new co-worker:  His legs were kinda knobby in knee socks. What could be underneath? He was sorta on the thin side. So maybe, they were skinny? However, if he wanted to meet girls, his geeky socks had to go. “Stuart, the look you’re sporting is from the fifties. I’m telling you girls don’t go for guys wearing socks with sandals.”
Stuart scratched the side of his nose while considering what I’d said. “Okay.” He sat on the threshold step and took off the sandals, then the socks.
I leaned over to watch. He was right—Stuart had ugly legs. Ugly. Scrawny. Very gorilla-hairy legs. Yet firm calves. I shuddered. If his legs were like this, what…
Don’t go there. Don’t go there.
And: He’d placed on his shirt pocket a fill-in-the-blank “Hi! My Name Is” sticky nametag, inscribed with what appeared to be permanent blue-black ink in large capital letters, “STUART STEEMS.”This pretty much confirmed what I’d been aware of all along: Stuart didn’t party.
Find Temporarily Insane at: Amazon    The Wild Rose Press



 Love to you all!!







 

Travel & Book with Nancy Haddock #smalltown #mystery #Rssos #hometown

Travel & Book withNancy Haddock
courthouseMagnolia, Arkansas has always interested me, mostly because one of my mother’s long-time friends, Yvonne, was born and raised there. I first went through the town with the Hubster. We only had a short time to explore the town square before we had to get on the road again, but I was charmed. And when an elderly woman called, “Honey. Oh, honey,” to me and asked a favor, I knew I had to model my fictional town, Lilyvale, after Magnolia.
I visited again to do research, and Yvonne and her husband Tom drove down from Tulsa to meet me and show me the places she lived and tell me stories of the area. I stayed in the Loft on the Square, which in turn inspired my loft on the squarefictional Inn on the Square. I had the pleasure of meeting so many friendly people! I hated for me trip to end, and hated to part from Yvonne and Tom, too.
muralsThis fall I get to go back to Magnolia. I’m having a book signing at the fabulous Columbia County Library, and I’ll get to meet my “soap lady,” Deb, and her new husband. Of course, I’ll be researching more, too, and soaking up the easy pace of life. I can hardly wait!



Nixy and her extended family, the Silver Six, invite Doralee Gordon to teach a gourd painting class. It’s dicey when Doralee’s ex crashes the class with his new fiancée, but things really get messy when the bride-to-be later turns up dead. Now Nixy and the Silver Six must use their melons to find the killer—before someone else gets painted out of the picture.
Sherry and Aster, Masie and Eleanor joined me, Dab, and Fred at the worktable, but they’d brought more than sandwiches and sweet tea. They’d cooked up the cockeyed idea that we should investigate the murder.
“No, and no again, Aunt Sherry. Absolutely not.”
“But we must investigate. You know the Stanton family dictum: When we see something that needs doing, we do it.”
“That’s the point. Investigating this death is not something we can do.”
“Of course we can. Now let’s start with a description of the crime scene. Doralee wouldn’t tell us a single detail. Did you take photos with your cell phone?”
“No cell pictures, and I am not describing the crime scene,” I said, but the image of the victim on her side, arm outstretched, her ring looking so odd on her limp finger made me shudder. I shook off the mental picture. “Let the police investigate, Sherry. We have to stay out of Eric’s way.”
 “Poo. We know Doralee is innocent. We’ll solve this case just like we solved the last one.”
I choked on my tea and carefully set the glass on Fred’s work table. “Aunt Sherry, we did not solve that murder. We blundered into the killer, and you were put in mortal danger.”
“We came out of it fine and dandy.”
“You were injured, and the whole episode took years off my life. Y’all are not sweet-talking me into snooping. Case closed.”
I knew from the eye-rolling they’d ignore every word I said.
Find Paint the Town Dead at: Amazon
Find me at: Website

Guest Judy Penz Sheluk - Do you have a purse like this?

Handbag & Book with...Judy Penz ShelukDo you have a purse like this?
I ask because I’m sure it’s far from rare. I bought it from Avon Canada at least fifteen years ago, not because I needed an evening clutch (I did not) but because it was on clearance and I thought it was pretty.
I hadn’t thought much about this purse over the years, but it doesn’t take up much space, so it’s been spared from many closet purges, and for some reason, I even stored it in the original bag.
In late April, I attended Malice Domestic, a mystery writers/fan convention in Bethesda, Maryland. There’s a dress-up Awards banquet, and I brought this purse with me for the occasion. It doesn’t fit much more than pin money, a lipstick and a tissue, but there’s even a little mirror inside—what else do you really need?

Oh, and I still think it’s pretty!

What goes on behind closed doors doesn’t always stay there…
Callie’s not keen on dredging up a thirty-year-old mystery, but if she doesn’t do it, there’s a scheming psychic named Misty Rivers who is more than happy to expose the Barnstable family secrets. Determined to thwart Misty and fulfill her father’s wishes, Callie accepts the challenge. But is she ready to face the skeletons hidden in the attic?
Leith Hampton placed the will in front of him, smoothing an invisible crease with a well-manicured hand, the nails showing evidence of a vigorous buffing. I wondered what kind of man went in for a mani-pedi—I was surmising on the pedi—and decided it was the kind of man who billed his services out for five hundred dollars an hour.
He cleared his throat and stared at me with those intense blue eyes. “Are you sure you’re ready, Calamity? I know how close you were to your father.”
I flinched at the Calamity. Folks called me Callie or they didn’t call me at all. Only my dad had been allowed to call me Calamity, and even then only when he was seriously annoyed with me, and never in public. It was a deal we’d made back in elementary school. Kids can be cruel enough without the added incentive of a name like Calamity.
As for being ready, I’d been ready for the past ninety-plus minutes. I’d been ready since I first got the call telling me my father had been involved in an unfortunate occupational accident. That’s how the detached voice on the other end of the phone had put it. An unfortunate occupational accident.
I knew at some point I’d have to face the fact that my dad wasn’t coming back, that we’d never again argue over politics or share a laugh while watching an episode of The Big Bang Theory. Knew that one day I’d sit down and have a good long cry, but right now wasn’t the time, and this certainly wasn’t the place. I’d long ago learned to store my feelings into carefully constructed compartments. I leveled Leith with a dry-eyed stare and nodded.
“I’m ready.”

Find Judy at:  Website
Wow, Judy, your little black bag is adorable!

Is writing a solitary experience? Try Mah jongg! says Debra Goldstein #Rssos #MFRWorg #RB4U #playingmahjongg

Although I find writers to be some of the most supportive people who exist, writing often is a solitary experience.  When I look at this purse, which was a gift from my Thursday Mah Jongg group to celebrate the publication of Should Have Played Poker: a Carrie Martin and the Mah Jongg Players Mystery, I remember there is a world outside writing that I must stay connected to. 

Look at the picture and you can imagine the friend who always is concerned about you; the one who knows it all and wants to get on with the hand or whatever she believes everyone should be doing; the one who is just there; and the one who sips her tea, observing quietly until she says exactly the right thing. The bag may be small, but its meaning is great and it certainly holds my Maj card and winnings well.
 
Carrie Martin’s precarious balancing of her corporate law job and visiting her father at the Sunshine Village retirement home is upset when her mother reappears in her life after a twenty-six year absence. Her mother leaves her with a sealed envelope and the confession she once considered killing Carrie’s father. Before Carrie opens the envelope, her mother is murdered at the retirement home.
Instructed to leave the sleuthing to the police, Carrie continued efforts to discover why her mother returned and why she was killed quickly put her at odds with her former lover – the detective assigned to her mother’s case.  As Carrie and her co-sleuths, the Sunshine Mah jongg players, attempt to unravel Wahoo, Alabama’s past secrets in this fast paced mystery, their efforts put Carrie in danger and show her that truth and integrity aren’t always what she was taught to believe.
 “The first time I thought of killing him, the two of us were having chicken sandwiches at that fast-food place with the oversized rubber bird anchored to its roof.”

“I know the one.” I hand a cup of coffee across my desk to a woman I have not seen in twenty-six years.

With her free hand, Charlotte Martin pushes back a gray strand escaping from her ponytail.  “It didn’t seem like the right thing to kill him in a place they close on Sundays.  Besides, Carrie, being a lawyer, you can understand I didn’t want to do prison time.  I decided it would be better to divorce your father.”

In all the ways I’ve imagined reconnecting with my mother, I never thought it would be on a Sunday morning in my office discussing why she once wanted to murder my father. …
 
Find Should Have Played Pokerat: Amazon
 
Find out more about Debra H. Goldsteinat: Website
Oh Debra, do we need to chat because I play mahjong most Mondays. I love how it challenges my brain. And I just have to share my bag. It's a stitch and zip needlepoint kit which I did stitch and just love. Yours is very cool (major envy over here). Isn't it fab having a group like this to share with??





Who else does an activity on a regular basis like play bridge, paint, book club or what else?? 
 
 
 

Downton Abbey: a last post about the costumes #historicalprograms #Rssos #accessories #fashion

Travels with Vicki and Downton Abbey 4
And for my last post on the costumes of Downton Abbey, I have more treats to share!
Lady Rose is wearing a silk velvet evening dress with glass bead and sequin decoration. Worn at supper and a party in London. Because this is after WWI, it is not full-length. Don't you love the coral color?













Lady Cora wore this beautiful gown when she accompanied Lady Rose on her presentation at Court. Presenters wore a headdress of three feathers with a tulle veil (attached to a tiara), a train, and while or pale in color. She also carried a fan. The dress is in velvet, dropped waist with original lade and beadwork from the twenties on the bodies and sleeves. Diamante stones and gold seed beads are embellishments.









While pregnant, Lady Sybil wore this velvet maternity dress with gold embroidered borders. I have to say my photo doesn't do the dress justice. It is quite beautiful and unusual. The dress on the left was worn by a guest at a party attended by Lady Edith. The fabric is of black silk net with intricate embroidery known as Tambour work.









I hope you enjoyed the tour of Downton Abbey costumes. I truly will miss the show and seeing the exhibit renewed my want for more.

Downton Abbey: a third post about costumes #historicalcostumes #PBS #RSSos

Travels with Vicki and Downton Abbey 3
This gown worn by Lady Cora is absolutely stunning. It's fashioned from silk with a net overlay and a beaded panel in front. If I remember correctly, the front panel was found and the dress fashioned around it. Dazzling.














Equally dazzling is the day dress worn by Cora. It's a coat and dress with floral embroidery, won at Lady Edith's wedding. Fascinating note: the coat was created from a 1920's damask tablecloth. Who would have thought.













A ruby colored coat worn by Lady Mary. Velvet trim on the collar and cuffs. Leather gloves and a matching velvet handbag.

Downton Abbey & Travels #2 #PBS #costumes #Thursdayblog #Rssos

Travels with Vicki and Downton Abbey 2And so our journey continues with this second post about the costumes of Downton Abbey.  

On the left is a riding habit and hat worn by Lady Mary. The skirt is split at the front and back with jodphurs underneath for decorum.
On the right is a dress and hat worn by Dowager Countess of Grantham, played by Maggie Smith. The bodice is of silk trimmed in black. Lady Violet wore purple for half-mourning.





The Earl and the Countess of Grantham wore these outfits at the Downton Village Flower Show. The Earl sports a light cream linen suit with a straw Panama hat. Cora has on a silk day dress and coat with black frogging and a large silk hat with net, flowers, and ribbon.















A dusty pink evening dress in silk with a black net overlay, adorned with beads and sequins worn by Lady Mary at a dinner party when Sir Richard visits Downton. I was gasping.

Downton Abbey: the costumes #Rssos #TWRP #historicalapparel #PBS

Travels with Vicki and Downton Abbey This past spring, Handsome and I went to Chicago where I saw an exhibit of costumes from the PBS series, Downton Abbey. The exhibit was exquisite. And those actresses are very tiny. So over the next few weeks, I'll be sharing my photos and some notes.
An evening dress worn by Lady Mary the night of the dinner with the Turkish diplomat. The dress is created from silk chiffon, pleated for the sleeves and the band across the front. Embroidered lace over red satin.


Lady Edith in wool cord breeches, cotton blouse, and linen jacket for working on the farm.


Lady Sybil in a nurse's cotton dress, white apron, and head scarf. Due to wartime conditions, skirts were shorter.  Lady Mary in a skirt and satin blouse, with a floral chiffon front panel and cuffs. Simple and elegant.

Not quite a year: Mom #agingparents #newlifeadventure #Rssos #TWRP #RB4U #MFRWorg

Last November, my mom passed away. And today, I'm thinking about her because tomorrow would be her birthday. It's bittersweet knowing I can't celebrate with her.


Mom gave me great values and the use of my hands to make things. I have been embroidering since age nine. Many years later, we were perusing Hobby Lobby and came upon the clearance section where we found Stitch and Zip needlepoint kits. I said, "I think I can do this. I've been wanting to learn how to needlepoint." She said, "I know you can."

I bought the kit and have made many Stitch and Zip things. I have taken needlepoint classes and
make pillows and handbags. When I would visit my mom, I'd always take a project with me so she could see what I was up to.


Not long ago, I decided to embroider pillow cases and at our house, tatting made by my grandmother was added. I asked Mom for some and we pulled out her boxes and drawers to find the perfect pieces for my work.


When going through my parents' things, we opened the cedar trunk at the foot of their bed. Inside was lots of projects she had embroidered. And I had never seen them before. She'd also stashed a set of cases I'd done for her.


Thanks, Mom, for the gift of hands.


P.S. Isn't she beautiful?