Jennifer Wilck's Blog, page 34

Mary Morgan's A Highland Moon Enchantment

Hi Jennifer! Thanks for having me on your wonderful blog today! I’m excited to share my new release, A Highland Moon Enchantment.
When the O’Quinlan brothers entered the story in Dragon Knight’s Axe, Order of the Dragon Knights, Book 3, I knew each would demand their own story. Desmond O’Quinlan kept tapping my shoulder (and yelling in my ear), requesting a rematch with Dragon Knight, Alastair MacKay. You see, dear readers, it seems he still has unfinished business with Alastair for leaving his sister, Fiona. In truth, I sensed a deeper meaning behind his foul mood and growing anger at the Dragon Knight.
I thoroughly enjoyed returning home to Urquhart, the Dragon Knights, and finding a wife for Desmond. In researching a name for the heroine, Ailsa MacDuff, the path was a serendipitous find one afternoon. I saw a clear picture of her features within my mind, so I went through several names to fit her character. When I saw the Gaelic name of Ailsa, which means “fairy rock,” I knew I had the perfect one for this lass. Yet it wasn’t until I saw the mention of “Ailsa Craig,” that my story was set in motion.
The island of Ailsa Craig does indeed exist. The island is approximately two hundred forty acres, which contains blue hone granite that was quarried to make hurling stones. It’s located about ten miles off the southwestern coast of Scotland. Currently, the island is owned by the RSPB Nature Reserve and is home for Europe’s biggest gannet colony and a significant number of puffins. I’ve seen pictures of this island, and it’s stunning. It was the perfect setting to place a fictional group of characters.
MEDIA KIT – A HIGHLAND MOON ENCHANTMENT by Mary Morgan ** Release date: November 17, 2017 Publisher: The Wild Rose Press Genre: Historical, Medieval, Scottish, Paranormal, Romance, Holiday Length: Novella **A tale from the Order of the Dragon Knights

Blurb: Irish warrior, Desmond O’Quinlan has never surrendered his heart to any woman. He has no wish to have his soul tortured by love. Yet, the moment he locks gazes with Ailsa, his fate is destined for an adventure he never fathomed. He may have battled alongside a Dragon Knight, but his greatest challenge will come from within his own heart.
Ailsa MacDuff, a warrior among her clan, has no desire to have a man chain her to a life of obedience. However, that is before she meets Desmond. The temptation to allow this warrior inside her heart is a risk she dares to take, but one that could lead to a future of emptiness and sorrow. 
When betrayal looms from within, the battleground of love is no match for these two warriors. Can the power of a Highland full moon be strong enough to unite or destroy them?

Excerpt :
His mind screamed to stay rooted in his chair, but his body betrayed him. Standing, he reached for her hand.“I will escort ye to your chamber.”
She eyed him with curiosity and stood. “Nae. Take me to the north wall. I hear the view of the loch is one that steals the breath from your lungs.”
“Done.” When her fingers slipped into his, Desmond fought the urge to crush her to his chest.Placing her soft hand in the crook of his arm, he led her quickly out of the hall and up the stairs. Bending to the left, he took her along a corridor and up a narrow circular pathway. The torches flickered as he approached the door leading to the north wall.
A cold draft blew by them, and she shivered. Instantly, regret filled him realizing he had not considered to bring a cloak for her.
Desmond paused by the door. “Ye should not venture out into the biting cold without a cloak.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I simply wish to capture a quick look, not spend the night sleeping out there.”
Shaking his head, he pushed open the massive oak door. Brittle air slapped at his face while they made their way up along the wall.  “’Tis cold,” she muttered, but chuckled softly and hugged his arm. “But ye arewarm.”
“We shall not tarry long,” he assured her and placed a warm hand over hers.
“Oh, sweet Goddess. Look at the moon, Desmond. Her light shimmers over the water. I have now witnessed the charm of the loch in sunlight and moonlight. Though our rivers are stunning on their own, they cannae rival this view. As I have told ye, our island is shrouded in mists, so ye cannae see verra far out into the sea.”
Desmond’s focus was not on the moon, but the beauty standing beside him. To take what he dared not possess. He marveled at her delight of the striking scene.
Ailsa turned toward him. “Thank ye, Desmond, truly.”
Her nearness was overpowering, seducing him in a way he had never known. Desmond cupped her chin. Her eyes widened, and her lips parted in invitation. Moonlight and lust danced within her eyes. No longer did he battle with his mind and body, and he slowly lowered his head.
And under the silent whisper of a full moon, Desmond captured her soft lips within his own. Hecould taste her sweetness mixed with the wine, and desire shot through his veins. His hands shook as he placed them securely on her waist. As he deepened the kiss, she placed her hands around his neck. Desmond groaned, crushing her body against him.
Buy Links:AMAZON: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0767QVJBX/ B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/a-highland-moon-enchantment-mary-morgan/1127176325 Apple iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/a-highland-moon-enchantment/id1294140045?mt=11
Tags: Historical, Romance, Scotland, Medieval, Paranormal, Holiday
Author Bio: Award-winning Scottish paranormal romance author, Mary Morgan, resides in Northern California, with her own knight in shining armor. However, during her travels to Scotland, England, and Ireland, she left a part of her soul in one of these countries and vows to return. 
Mary's passion for books started at an early age along with an overactive imagination. She spent far too much time daydreaming and was told quite often to remove her head from the clouds. It wasn't until the closure of Borders Books where Mary worked that she found her true calling--writing romance. Now, the worlds she created in her mind are coming to life within her stories.
If you enjoy history, tortured heroes, and a wee bit of magic, then time-travel within the pages of her books.
Social Media Links: WEBSITE:  http://www.marymorganauthor.comBLOG:  http://www.marymorganauthor.com/blog TWITTER:  http://twitter.com/m_morganauthor FACEBOOK AUTHOR PAGE: https://www.facebook.com/MaryMorganAuthor/
FACEBOOK:  http://www.facebook.com/mary.morgan.564GOODREADS:  http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8271002.Mary_MorganAMAZON AUTHOR PAGE:  http://www.amazon.com/Mary-Morgan/e/B00KPE3NWI/PINTEREST:  www.pinterest.com/marymorgan50/INSTAGRAM: https://www.instagram.com/marymorgan2/BOOKBUB: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/mary-morgan
ORDER OF THE DRAGON KNIGHTS
Dare to journey with the Dragon Knights of Scotland!
They were an ancient order descended from the great Tuatha De Danann, a tribe from the Goddess Danu. Half human and half fae, each blessed with mystical powers. They were also given holy relics and guardianship over the dragons.
With the dawn of Christianity, the dragons were systematically hunted down and slain leaving only one. The Dragon Knights took her from Ireland to a land across the sea, settling in the Great Glen near Urquhart. The clan was known as the MacKay clan, descendants from the MacAoidh.
Yet, there were those who deemed the Order had too much power, and they tried to possess it for themselves. They were evil and twisted, and their plan succeeded one fateful night. A battle was fought and their sister was killed.
The Clan Mackay is no longer.
The Dragon Knights scattered across the land.
Yet out of the darkness, they will each fight for redemption.
Amazon:  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B076CX243N/

How To Be A Band Mom

Now that marching band season is over, we move onto concert season. As a band mom, I will fully admit to hoping at each game our football team loses so we don’t have to continue to march in December, when it’s cold. My penance for those terrible thoughts is helping to fit about 150 boys and girls for their concert attire.
Here are a few things I learned:It is easy to tell which kids have gone to sleep away camp—they’re the ones who start stripping in the hallway in front of everyone.Boys have no idea what size they wear. In some cases, I’m not sure they’re even aware they wear clothes. This makes fitting them, with their neck and sleeve and pants sizes, time consuming.Girls, on the other hand, have shirts and skirts that come in one size, despite their many curves and body differences.Making sure the boys can sit in the pants they are wearing is important, and saves the band teachers from many embarrassing last-minute conversations before a concert. However, trying to find a way to explain that to the boys so I don’t get sued, takes all of my English-major skills.Best follow up question when I tell them to sit? “I don’t sit when I play.” My answer, “Do you plan on sitting in your car to get here, though?”You know what also takes all of my English-major skills? Trying to explain to the girls, in semi-public, why the shirt or the skirt in their typical size not fitting doesn’t mean anything body-image wise.Coming up with the correct words to explain to freshman girls that their boobs might get bigger during the four years they will be wearing these shirts, and therefore, these shirts should be a little roomy, is also a challenge, especially when they don’t know me.Boys look like penguins in the tuxedos—especially when the pants don’t allow them to sit.The girls look like they’re Amish. Or like nuns. They are neither.Asking the boys to replace the jacket and pants on a hanger is the perfect way to find out which kids’ parents clean their rooms.
For all the parents who come to the concerts this year, unless you plan to volunteer for next year’s fittings, I’d suggest you don’t say a word about what the kids are wearing, especially in my earshot.

NaNoWriMo Here I Go!

For the first time, I’m participating in NaNoWriMo. That stands for National Novel Writing Month. Writers all over the world commit to writing 50,000 in 30 days. There are online incentives, libraries and public spaces that open specifically for the participants, and a network of people who encourage each other.I’ve never wanted to participate before, because November is an impossible month. With holidays and school breaks, those 30 days boil down to maybe 20. And 50,000 words? It always sounded impossible. But this year, I decided to do it at the last minute. My attention span is sorely lacking and I have a lot of writing projects that need completing. So I decided, why not?Besides, I’m awesome with a deadline. 50,000 words boils down to 1,667 words per day. I round it to 1,700 to give myself a little breathing room. I’m like our rescue dog. We have an electric fence so she can run in the yard without a leash. She knows where the “fence” is, and creates her own set of boundaries—about 6 feet inside the electric fence—so she doesn’t mistakenly bump into it. That’s me. If I write at least 1,700 words a day, I can’t possibly not hit my goal. 50,000 words, added to the 30,000 words I’d already written, means I’ll have a complete manuscript when I’m done. Or so I thought. The problem is those are the number of words I have to write. We don’t edit during this time, so those words are not necessarily my best words. And because I’m working on a manuscript that’s been giving me trouble from the beginning, and I didn’t prep ahead of time for this challenge, well, there are problems. My biggest problem? My heroine. I’m two thirds of the way done with this book and she still doesn’t have a purpose. I mean, she’s a good foil for the hero, but as an independent woman? Yeah, I’m stuck. So I already know I’ll have to go back and figure out why she exists.
But it’s a start!

Changes

“Never a dull moment!”“When one door closes, another opens…”—Alexander Graham Bell“Is the glass half empty or half full?”“May you live in interesting times.”Those phrases/quotes are some of the common ones we use to describe our lives as things change, opportunities present themselves or chances are lost. Indeed, I agree with all of them. In fact, I’m pretty sure several of them flitted through my mind this weekend when I found out my old publisher, through which I published four books, will be closing in June.Nope, not my current one. They are doing great and I’m publishing—and selling—books with them. In fact, my next book, Five Minutes to Love, is coming out sometime in the spring and I’m currently waiting to see a galley copy so I can make copy edits and then get a specific release date. No worries there.

The other publisher is lovely, small and very concerned with the future of her authors. She’s going out of her way to help us, provide us legal releases so our rights revert to us, and help us with anything we need. And readers can still buy those books as long as they are on Amazon and Barnes & Noble.My first reaction was actually excitement. Because there are now so many possibilities! I have lots of plans, which I’m keeping to myself for now, but ultimately will reveal in the future. I have terrific people to advise me and I’m taking things slowly when I can. In the meantime, when in doubt, edit. I have been going through one of the books and re-editing it (you can never do that too many times), because I can’t do anything with it until it’s almost perfect.So stay tuned, because I hope to have more book announcements in the near future.In the meantime, if you love to read, here’s a giveaway you might enjoy:
Giveaway Details...

What: $400 & $500 Black Friday Amazon Shopping Spree Giveaways

When:  Nov. 6-22, 2017.

$900 Giveaway Page:  https://wp.me/P2H01p-7EQ

$500 Giveaway Page:  https://wp.me/P2H01p-7F2

$400 Giveaway Page:  https://wp.me/P2H01p-7F5

Happy Halloween!

In celebration of tomorrow’s holiday, I’m spotlighting one of my books, which features a Halloween party given by a costume designer and prop department. Have you read it yet?
The last thing Valerie needs after escaping an abusive marriage to an alcoholic and rebuilding her life, is a broody, secretive, standoffish man. But that’s exactly what she gets when she becomes a makeup artist on the set of a hit sitcom and draws the attention of the series’ star. 

John Samuels hides a terrible past—a life of abuse and neglect. A successful acting career and the affection and support of cast, crew and friends, does nothing to convince him that he is anything other than an unlovable monster.

Will he learn that the life he’s been living has been built on a lie or will he be doomed to repeat the sins of his father?

Here’s an excerpt: As they pulled up in front of Michelle’s apartment, Valerie gasped. The prop department had transformed the entire exterior of her building from a 1960’s era apartment complex to a gothic haunted house. Broken tombstones littered the front yard, webs draped themselves across windows and ghostly faces peered out of windows. Mannequins dressed like Victorian skeletons rested under trees and against the entranceway. John and Valerie entered the apartment as strains of ghoulish music played in the background. Although she’d been inside this apartment many times, tonight she didn’t recognize the place. The prop people had converted Michelle’s living room into an old library, her dining room into a ballroom and the kitchen into an old laboratory. On the floor of the library lay a fake blood-soaked carpet with the outline of a body. The walls resembled old oak paneling and antique-looking books sat stacked on small tables. Wall sconces provided dim lighting and created creepy shadows. Pleather-covered chairs provided ample seating for those monsters and goblins who wished to chat. Moving into the ballroom, cobwebbed-covered chandeliers hung in corners and a long buffet table filled with food sat against one wall. As they walked over to it, Valerie laughed at the food — spider sandwiches (crackers and caviar), eyeballs (peeled grapes), witches brew (soup) nestled side by side with more traditional fare. In the laboratory, Michelle had set up the bar, along with axes, butcher knives, smoking test tubes and green goo. Sweaty monsters, whimsical animals and brightly colored devils danced, laughed and mingled through the rooms.  Valerie weaved back and forth among the guests in the ballroom on her way to greet Michelle, while John headed to the bar in the laboratory. The music thrummed through her veins. Her heart beat in time with the bass drum, her breath flowed to the underlying harmony. A Frankenstein staggered into her, leered at her cleavage and rubbed against her in an erotic dance. His arms tightened around her waist and his whisky breath suffocated her as it puffed against her face. She pulled away from him as he laughed, shoved a Bloody Mary into her hand and careened off toward the other end of the room. Valerie looked at the red liquid and her stomach convulsed. She shuddered as the glass slipped through her fingers. It thumped onto the rug, the tomato juice a bright red stain on the beige carpet. The whiskey smell still moored in her nostrils, the icy chill of the glass still impressed in her fingertips, she swayed, no longer in time to the music.A familiar curly wig caught her eye and she watched as John moved between the masses. He placed a hand against her back and tipped his head down to her.“Are you alright?”Valerie massaged her stomach to relieve her clenched muscles as she let him lead her out of the dancing crowd to the side of the room. With a deep breath, she nodded. John led her into the middle of the room to dance. His large form buffered her from the guests. As the B-52s began to play, Valerie relaxed and let herself get caught up in the music.
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Skin-Deep-Jennifer-Wilck-ebook/dp/B00UGLRPZG/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1509385430&sr=8-3&keywords=jennifer+wilck
Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/skin-deep-jennifer-wilck/1108162104?ean=2940151547222

Placeholder

The problem with writing a weekly blog is I have to write it weekly. That’s how I maintain and hopefully build my followers. But what happens when I have nothing to say?
Now, if you know me, you know I ALWAYS have something to say. Whether or not I say it is another story. As a writer, I spend a lot of time staring at a blank page. Eventually I find something to say and I fill the page with words. But readers don’t see those words until I’ve rewritten and edited the heck out of them, not to mention run them past critique partners and editors. I can’t do that with my blog.
For the past couple of weeks, my blogs have been political. There’s a time and a place for that and I try not to get political too often. I could probably get political every day, but my blog is supposed to provide entertainment and an escape from the world’s craziness.
I was going to write today’s blog post about what I’m doing as a writer, except I’m deep in edits for my upcoming book and really, I can’t imagine anyone being interested in those (if you are, I apparently use too many pronouns and I’m trying to figure out how to fix that—there, now you’re up to date).
No one in my family is doing anything particularly funny—College Girl is fine and has finally discovered the perks of having an English major for a mother; Banana Girl wore minions-riding-unicorns-pajamas for Spirit Week’s Pajama Day today (I’m pretty sure she won Spirit Week for that); and the husband is no longer singing in the morning.

So consider today a placeholder. I’ll try to be funnier and more interesting next week. In the meantime, only eight more days until I have to share my chocolate with random strangers knocking at my door.

Me Too

There’s a social media campaign going on right now, where women who have been sexually harassed or assaulted post “Me too.” My feed is filled with them—the number of times they pop up makes me nauseated, because it shouldn’t happen. Ever.
Each time I see someone else post, I think about whether or not I should. I suspect there are just as many of us not posting, even though we could. Just because we don’t post “Me too” doesn’t mean it didn’t happen to us. We have lots of reasons for not posting, including not wanting to post just because everyone else is.
I get the point—to show how prevalent the issue is. Point made. Except, my Facebook feed doesn’t represent a slice of general society, enabling me to teach something new to someone who needs it. It represents a very filtered slice of my own friends. Just think about how many people you’ve muted, unfollowed or unfriended because of their politics or opinions or posts. We’ve whitewashed our newsfeed to mostly show people who think and feel like us. And we are the ones who are aware of how frequent sexual harassment and assault occurs. So I’d kind of be preaching to the choir.
This is a serious topic, and it’s taken on a bit of a "game" status. Sexual harassment or assault isn’t a game. It’s serious. While it needs to be brought out into the open, it needs to be done in a way that doesn’t lessen what’s been done. It needs to create a dialogue about why this is so prevalent and what can be done to stop it.
I don’t think this campaign does that, at least not yet. My first thought when I see these posts is, “I wonder what happened.” And frankly, what happened to someone else isn’t my business. Just like mine isn’t yours, unless I choose to tell you.
Sometimes I do choose to share, whether it’s in person or with a black-humored Facebook post or blog post that is meant as much to serve as a warning to people as it is to allow me to vent and feel better. But how I choose to share is personal, and shouldn’t be lumped in with how others choose to share their stories.
And that leads to another thing. The “Me Too” campaign combines harassment and assault. Harassment is a wide scale with many shades of grey. Assault is not. While I take seriously what I’ve experienced, in no way would I want to even suggest that my experience compares in any way to someone who has been assaulted or who has experienced something worse than I have. Does combining those two things lessen or trivialize the experience of someone who has been assaulted? I don’t know, but I’m loathe to post anything that might cause someone extra pain.

So to those of you who are posting, you have my deepest sympathy for what you’ve experienced, and my unending support. This topic needs to be addressed, and I truly hope that the “Me Too” campaign helps to do that. But to those of you—us—who don’t post, know that I see you too.

Have You Harassed A Romance Writer Lately?

There are a number of reasons I don’t talk about my books in every-day life. The biggest reason is I’m shy and hate talking about myself. But there are other reasons, including never being sure what kinds of reactions I’m going to get from people, even from friends. So I tend to keep quiet. However, there comes a point where I have to get over it, and I make an effort to talk about what I do, especially with people who show genuine interest.
And then there’s the marketing side. Most authors hate this part of it, but our books won’t market themselves, but we get out there anyway and try to get people to buy our books.
That’s what I did this weekend at a book fair near Philadelphia. It was a gorgeous day. The entire main street of town was closed to cars and more than 300 authors had tents set up with their books.
I was one of the few romance authors. I don’t know if it was because there weren’t very many others. Maybe it was my location. Or maybe it was my “lucky day.” But men came up to my tent and harassed me three different times during the day. One who tried to make a connection between my books and sex addiction groups, one who thought I should give away condoms and one who tried to pick me up. And another guy harassed the girl he was with for liking to read romance.
Now, I’m shy but friendly. I’ll smile at anyone who comes over to my tent, even if I don’t think you’re my target audience. And I’ll talk to anyone, including the people who come up to me and say they don’t read books—yes, that happens more times than I can count and makes me wonder each time why the heck they’re at a book festival, but I digress. One of the men, and I use that term loosely, tried to begin a conversation with my by asking me why I was smiling. Did he think I’d sell more books by frowning? Maybe he didn’t like my smile? Maybe that was his pickup line—he was the one who was trying to pick me up.
I follow a lot of authors on Facebook and I’m part of different writer loops and the one thing we all have in common, even highly successful romance writers whose names are known by everyone, is how we get harassed by people for what we write. Teasing is fine. I have a decent sense of humor, I can see why people might find certain aspects funny and I’m happy to join in. But there’s a line, and for some reason, men seem to think it is perfectly acceptable to ignore that line when it comes to romance authors (I don’t mean to pick on men—although in this case it was the men who were harassing me. Women do it too, but they are much snootier about it, attacking romance as not real literature, even though it is the highest selling genre—look it up.). And when crossing the line creates situations where I or other authors feel physically uncomfortable and unsafe, there is a problem.
So here’s what I want you to do. I don’t want your sympathy. I want you to actually do something. The next time you hear a man make a lewd comment, say something. Let him know it’s not okay and tell him it makes him look like an ass. The next time you see someone reading a romance, don’t judge her for “reading smut.” They’re reading. They’re escaping from reality—take a look around you, we all need an escape. You all congratulate each other for watching the latest reality TV show, so why are you judging someone who reads about two people falling in love? The next time you’re tempted to ask that question of a romance author—you know the question I mean—swallow it. Ask about their writing process or how long they’ve been writing or what made them want to write romance in the first place.

In other words, treat them like a human being. Show them the respect you’d like to receive. Or say nothing at all.

Welcome Kim McDermott

Please welcome fellow The Wild Rose Press writer Kim McDermott, who writes as Katherine McDermott.

How Can You Write about Places You’ve Never Visited?
Take a cyber vacation. While I had been to Paris before I wrote Hiding, I had never been to Monte Carlos or Breil sur Roya. How could I make these locations authentic in my book? The answer is research, fun research. I used travel brochures, tour websites, lots of photographs to read, visualize and learn about the places that my characters would be traveling.In the process, I got to “visit” exotic places. I learned, for example, that Jacques Cousteau’s Marine Museum and Center are in Monte Carlos. I learned how Grace Kelly was killed on the winding treacherous road to the city. I learned that one of the popular gambling casinos was built to resemble the Paris Opera House. It was a mini-vacation for me and for my readers when it was worked into the book. In conclusion, authors, take your mini-vacation via cyber space and recreate it for your fans.
Blurb:
Teresa Worthington escape her abusive boyfriend, Alex, and flees to Paris to pursue a dream career in art. Alone and waryof men, she gradually makes friends and explores her new home. She is distraught to learn that Alex is still stalking her but is determined to create the life she has always wanted.
Handsome, compassionate, and brave, Serge Gervais, a young Frenchman, slowly wins her trust. He shows her the sights of France and promises to protect her from Alex. Teresa finds herself falling in love for the first time until the unspeakable happens. Alex tracks her down and forces her into the catacombs beneath the city. Will Serge find her in time to prevent Alex's vengeance?Bio
Excerpt:
Alex illuminated the crypt with his light, and Teresa tried to interpret what she saw: uneven walls, a doorway surrounded by orbs, a floorlittered with dried reeds. No, they weren't reeds; they were bones. And the orbs were skulls? The catacombs! Her heart pounded in her chest like a jack hammer. Alex had withdrawn his knife. The blade glittered in the dim light of the torch which cast luminous shadows on the walls. What better place tokill someone? What was another set of bones among the many? Lord, as you helped the Christians long ago who secretly met in catacombs, help me.
Buy link for Hiding (suspense romance) www.bit.ly/Daphnewin
Bio:
Kim McDermott was born and raised in Charleston, SC where she graduated valedictorian of Middleton High School and cum laudi from the College of Charleston with a B.A. in English.  She received a Masters Degree in Counseling from the Citadeland is a Licensed Professional Counselor in S.C. She has nine years of experience inguidance.  She is also a Nationally Certified High School English and Language Artsteacher who worked for Charleston Country School District for 28 years as both anEnglish teacher and a guidance counselor.  She is retired and currently teaches part-timeas an Adjunct English Professor at Trident Technical College.She has free lanced for numerous regional and national publications including:The State, Charleston Magazine, Standard, Blue Ridge Country, Reader’s Digest, Christian Single, Home Life, Straight, Evangel, Smokey Mountain Magazine, and others. She won the Blue Ridge Christian Writer’s award in l987.  Her first book, All Work, AllPlay published by Marco. She has two children’s books, a chapter book aimed atelementary age children entitled The Underwear Tree and a picture book, Les PetitsGardes. With Margie Clary, she co-authored South Carolina Lighthousespublished by Arcadia Publishing. She has published two romance novels with The Wild Rose Press: Hiding, a suspense thriller that won the Daphne Du Maurier Kiss of Death Contest from NRA and Abbey’s Tale, historical romance set in New England.  
www.kmcdermottauthor.wordpress.comwww.katherinemcdermott.blogspot.comwww.thewildrosepress.comamazon.com/author/mcdermottkatherinewww.amazon.com/author/kimmcdermott 

Ten Hours

Do you know what you can do in ten hours?
You can get a full night’s rest.You can put in a full day’s-worth of work, plus a little extra.You can binge watch almost an entire season of whatever your favorite show is on Netflix.You can travel to Maryland and back (and even make multiple stops for coffee and bathroom breaks—and gasoline)You can do great work volunteering to help those less fortunate.You can build something.You can create something.You can give birth to a baby.You can canoe down the river.You can hike a mountain.You can have surgery.You can tour a city, visiting museums, shop, eat and go home.

Or you can do what my husband and I have been doing and try to redo travel plans, dealing with incompetent people who are unable to help you, and spending most of those ten hours on hold.