Calle J. Brookes's Blog: Read More from Calle J. Brookes, page 7
April 2, 2015
PAVAD SPIN OFFS Info & EXCERPTS
Well, I'm hard at work on Ghosting and on Balance of the World's, plus a few other projects. CB is hard at work on whatever it is CB's do when their wives are writing...Stinkerbell is hard at work driving her father crazy..(I see a correlation here...) It's those other projects I wanted to talk about today! In our first newsletter (if you need to sign up, do so here!) I mentioned that I was working on a few spin-offs of the PAVAD series. One is most definitely a romantic suspense series similar to the PAVAD series, but set in Texas, following the fictional Texas State Police (TSP for short!). The second is a mystery/suspense serial that will be around 75 pages each ‘episode’ and follow some of the PAVAD’s CCU teams around on different cases.
There may be hints of romance between upcoming PAVAD characters or some squeee moments from already-written-couples, but the primary focus will be on cases. (Think Criminal Minds, PAVAD style, ongoing, but complete episodes!)
The TSP books will mostly follow Carrie’s biological family (introduced in Wanting, Running, and Revealing for those who want to reread…) and a few family friends attached to the Beck family. One of the books will feature Carrie’s sister Mel (wounded in Revealing) and will actually be a PAVAD/TSP crossover. It’s scheduled sometime around the middle of 2016.
But the first book starts with Gabby Kendell (Brynna Beck’s partner/best friend). I don’t have a title yet, but I think it’ll be either Freedom or Justice.
I do plan to submit the first book of the series to Kindle Scout, Amazon’s crowd voting platform. If you aren’t familiar with Scout it’s basically where authors upload the first 5000 words (approximately 25 pages for me) and readers vote on which books they’d like to see published.
If an author’s book is chosen, it is published within six months and has all the benefits of Amazon’s marketing behind it.
If the TSP book 1 is published through Amazon, anyone who nominated it (and you don’t have to have a Kindle to participate, you can use a Kindle app in a web browser, so everyone should have access to the book!) will get a free advanced copy of the full book, edited, and all ready to go!
She’d witnessed her best friend’s family murdered ten years ago, and the killers were still out there. Watching, waiting for Gabby Kendell to do something stupid. She was really good at doing stupid—that’s why Gabby had spent most of the past ten years hiding out in her apartment and working in the computer forensics department of the Texas State Police.
Elliot Marshall had spent the last ten years trying to catch the ones who’d killed his entire family and when he stepped into the position with the TSP that his father had once filled, he was determined to use all the resources the TSP had to offer.
And that included the forensic tech who’d been there that day…The tech who was still being threatened by the killers.
There wasn’t anything that he wouldn’t do to keep her safe…
PROLOGUE
The desk had been his father’s. The position, as well. Elliot Marshall Jr. never thought he’d do more than share a name with his old man. But it was so much more than that now.
His father had been damned good at what he did, the best police chief this branch of Texas State Police had ever had.
It was what had gotten his father killed, along with Elliot’s mother and younger sister.
Or so the rumor went.
They’d never got the bastards responsible, but there had been much speculation in the last ten years that it had been related to something his father had been involved in.
Good or bad. No one really knew.
He had his father’s old office now, a personal assistant of his own, and a private security detail.
And a whole hell lot of responsibility. The Texas State Police was the smallest law enforcement body in the state, the Rangers outnumbered the TSP ten to one, but Elliot was determined to run the TSP as well as his father had.
Nothing would stop him.
“Will you be needing anything else, Chief Marshall, sir?” His assistant was a beautiful young woman with an impeccable record with the TSP and a cool manner he respected. Professionalism was what he prized in his people. Everything else was just secondary.
“I think I’ll be good for tonight, Amanda, thank you.”
He needed time to process the changes life had brought him.
His appointment to the position had come from the governor of Texas directly. The call had come at one of the lowest points of Elliot’s career, and he’d snapped up the appointment without thinking it through. Now he was starting to question himself and the why of the position.
He’d certainly never made any friends in the governor’s office. The biggest question he had was why.
CHAPTER ONE
Gabby Kendell didn’t know what to do. No surprise; she found herself that way quite a lot of the time. It was just the way things always ended up for her.
But this…this was a bit scarier than she had expected. It had been ten years, three months, and sixteen days since the world had tilted on her axis and made her afraid of every shadow in the room.
She’d thought she’d gotten herself past all of it. Thought she’d convinced herself the world was actually a pretty safe place after all.
The call from her step-father had erased ten years of hard work in five minutes.
Gabby closed her eyes and forced herself to breathe again. To think.
The killers had been out there for more than ten years. And they hadn’t found her yet. If they were smart, they weren’t even looking. They’d probably faded into the evil-people sunset or been arrested on other crimes long ago.
If she was lucky, they may even be dead. Unable to make good on the promise to find her and kill her they’d made ten years ago.
Yeah, that was what she hoped. She’d just have to convince herself of that, somehow.
Her partner pushed her own chair back and sighed. Gabby looked at her best friend. Brynna was staring at her. “What?”
“Something’s wrong. What?”
“Just some freaky bad news from my step-father. Nothing to worry about. Nothing that I can’t handle.”
“What is it? Tell me. Tell me.”
Gabby thought about it, and thought about not telling Brynna. But her friend was more than relentless when she was worried. It was the way Brynna was. “My friend’s killers. They’ve struck again.”
Brynna was the only one in their division of the TSP that Gabby had told the entire story of what had happened to Sara. And she knew Brynna had looked up the crime scene details after they’d spoken. Brynna had brought several questions to Gabby’s attention after the night Gabby had broken down with Brynna.
It had gotten Gabby thinking, and that was why she’d called her step-father in the first place. Michael Deckard had been the FBI agent assigned to Sara’s murder. Gabby had been the sole witness. Mike had fallen hard for Gabby’s mother, and had become an integral part of their family.
Mike had always kept Gabby safe, and today’s phone call was just another way for him to do that. “In Oregon, there’s been a case that’s similar.”
“Similar, but not a guarantee.”
No, there was never any guarantees, but she knew the truth—until they had the people in custody and could compare forensics. “Still, it was enough to have Mike calling me. Warning me.”
“I see. What are you going to do?”
“I’m not sure there is anything I can do. The case has been cold for ten years.” And Gabby had never understood that. With such a high profile case, she’d have thought it would have been at the front of the TSP’s case load every day since.
But it wasn’t.
“The new chief started two days ago.”
Gabby looked at Brynna again. Her friend had a habit of wild conversational jumps at times. Brynna was on the autism spectrum and sometimes Gabby had a little difficulty keeping up with how her friend’s mind worked. “So? I heard we were getting a new guy after Blankenbaker’s retirement.”
The former head of TSP had taken early medical retirement to help his wife battle breast cancer and spend time with his teenage children.
Gabby had always liked working for Blankenbaker, and hadn’t bothered to ask who the emergency appointment to the position was going to be.
In the four years Gabby had worked in the computer forensics department of the TSP, the chief had entered her office three times. Gabby liked it like that.
People in authority made her nervous. When she got nervous she rambled. When she rambled she said something royally stupid.
Not exactly how she wanted her career to go.
“I said, the new chief started two days ago.” Brynna was still looking at her with her green eyes so serious. No surprise there, Brynna was always serious.
“So?”
“You know who it is, right?”
“No. I missed the memo…and the meeting.” Gabby tried not to feel too guilty. She wasn’t good when shoved in small room with bunches of people. She was better when they left her alone with her computer. Brynna was the same way. One of the reasons why the two of them got along so well.
If people just left them alone to do their jobs there pretty much wasn’t anything they couldn’t accomplish together.
Thankfully the former chief and the rest of the officers they worked with understood that.
Hopefully the new chief would be the same way.
“You know who it is, right?”
“No. Who?”
“Elliot Marshall. Your friend Sara’s older brother. Maybe he can help you.”
Gabby just stared. “Unh uh. No way. Elliot Marshall wouldn’t have anything to do with the Texas State Police. And he definitely wouldn’t believe me. He always thought I was nuts. That I didn’t see anything that night. And he wasn’t all that nice to me before that.”
“Well, a lot has changed in ten years. You have, right? Maybe he has, too.”
Somehow Gabby doubted it. People didn’t really change. Everyone knew that…
As for the PAVAD: Case Files serial…
I have started the first one, and it follows Al’s team, and is in Al’s point-of-view. It takes place shortly after Paige’s wedding, and once again Paige gets herself into a bit of a tangle before Al and Sebastian, Jazz and Hernandez, and the rest can get her out of it!
*This serial will be published at all the retailers, as well!
PAVAD: Case Files #0000-1 “Knocked Out”
PROLOGUE
Al stumbled down the hall toward the room she shared with her partner. She hated hotels. They really, truly sucked.
Especially when the hotel in question was dark, dirty, and run down.
Not to mention in the middle of nowhere. Her partner was doing something Paige rarely did—sleeping—and Al had found herself far too restless to stick around the room listening to her best friend breathe.
Not when it had come too close to the opposite happening for Al’s comfort.
She slipped back inside the room and made certain to lock the door and to slide the room’s only chair beneath the handle. There had been one memorable case where she and Paige had been surprised in their room by a couple of drunken fools who’d followed them back to their hotel from the local precinct, of all things.
Paige had ended up clubbing one of them upside the head while Al had pulled her weapon on the two idiots. Not the highlight of that case.
But that case had been a weird one to begin with. So was this one, and Al wasn’t sure how she felt about things.
Paige had nearly gotten her clock cleaned, as Al’s husband was known to say. And Al had witnessed the entire thing and been helpless to stop it.
Paige wasn’t just her partner anymore. Or just her best friend. Paige had married her brother Mick less than a month ago. This was only their second case since Paige had returned from her honeymoon.
Al loved Paige, there was no doubt about it. But it had been even worse seeing her sister-in-law in danger this time. Because if anything happened to Paige it would devastate Al’s brother. And he’d already lost one woman he’d loved in the past.
And Paige meant so much more to him.
Still, Paige had managed to protect herself. Somehow. And wasn’t that what mattered?
Al stepped over to Paige’s bed and looked down at her. She lifted her phone up and snapped a quick picture of her friend with her mouth wide open and dark hair tangled around her head. Paige’s cheek rested on her left hand.
Where the wedding ring her brother had placed there rested.
It had been Al’s grandmother’s, and she couldn’t think of anyone more like that woman had been than Paige. It was fitting, wasn’t it, that Mick gave that ring to Paige?
She quickly texted the picture to the man in question. He’d somehow heard about what had happened and was freaking out.
Hopefully a pic would reassure him.
And maybe Al could finally grab some sleep, and forget what had happened. Somehow.
Someone knocked on the door softly and Al hurriedly moved the chair before the knocker could wake Paige. She wasn’t surprised to see her teamleader Sebastian standing in the hall.
Why wouldn’t he be? He was Paige’s brother-in-law, married to her sister. And he looked so much like Al’s husband her own heart hurt. Sometimes when she was missing Seth, looking at his identical brother definitely didn’t help.
So many connections on their team. It was a wonder Ed Dennis, leader of their directorate, even allowed them to remain together. How long would it last?
“I figured I’d check on her before heading to my room for a few hours.”
“I don’t think Masters did too much damage.”
“She was lucky. If he’d moved half a second faster…”
“I know. But he didn’t…” Al looked over her shoulder one more time as the events leading up to this moment replayed in her head…
CHAPTER ONE
“Stalking case. Let’s go!” Paige was one of the first ones to greet Al when Al walked into the PAVAD—Prevention & Analysis of Violent Acts Division—building three days after their last case had wound up unexpectedly. “Cleveland.”
“I just got here.” She took a quick look around for the rest of their team. Jaz and Hernandez were bickering near the elevators, nothing unusual there at all. It was actually reassuring after what the two of them had gone through at the hands of a previous enemy of Paige’s a few months ago. Jaz had come far too close to dying, and Al’s brother Mick had actually carried Saul Hernandez’s unconscious body to safety. The two partners had been extremely stilted and quiet with each other ever since. But not today. Today they were almost back to themselves.
Paige was probably responsible. She’d been out for three weeks, planning her wedding, getting married, then relaxing for two weeks with her husband in a Caribbean hut. Al definitely didn’t want to know all the details—not with the knowledge that the guy in that hut with her best friend was her older brother. There were some things a girl just didn’t want to know…
Did Paige even realize how important to their team she was? She was the one person who everyone on the team considered a confidant, a friend. She was at times the conscience of the Complex Crimes Unit Team Three. Al smiled at her new sister. “You always this happy when it comes to stalking creeps?”
“When it comes time to stopping them.” A strange light of emotion went across Paige’s face and Al could have kicked herself. It hadn’t been all that long ago when Paige had been stalked herself. Or a few other people they had both loved.
Stalking really wasn’t something any of them ever joked about anymore. “You’re awfully chipper this morning.”
“Your brother fed me well.” Paige grinned. “Among other things.”
“Ugh. Don’t say anything else.” Mick had moved out a few months earlier, into a foreclosure about a mile from the home he had shared with Al and their brother Mal, along with Seth and Mal’s family. It was odd having her brother gone. But he was with Paige, and Paige’s teenage brother Simon.
They were making their own family now. And Al was definitely happy for all of them. But hearing the details? Unh uh. Definitely not something she wanted to contemplate.
“What? Just consider this payback for everything I listened to after you and Seth figured things out…”
“If you two are finished?” Their team leader had come up behind them and put a hand on each of their shoulders. Al looked at him, then tried not to do a double take.
His brother had worn an extremely similar suit to work that morning. The longer she and Seth were together the more traits she discovered he did have in common with the brother he always called the good one.
Seth was pretty good himself. “Of course. How are you this morning? Little Maddie?”
Her niece was an absolutely beautiful baby—that Al hadn’t had a chance to see if a few days. She needed her baby fix. She had Mal’s son Auggie, but she still missed Maddie at times.
“Colicky. Carrie’s taking the day off to make a run to the pediatrician.”
“Hopefully this case won’t be a long one.” One of the biggest drawbacks of their job was the traveling. The being away from family so often. They all struggled with it. They’d be lying if they said differently.
“Hopefully. Let’s get rolling. Before it escalates.”
She never even made it into her office. Al just chalked it up to the nature of the job. At least she’d had time for breakfast and a shower before she’d had to leave.
Many a times she’d gotten called out in the middle of the night.
She’d learned to be grateful for small favors…
I’m not sure when these stories will be available, but I will keep everyone updated!
February 26, 2015
Sneak Peek at Ghosting
I'm working away at Ghosting and am 90% certain this will be the opening chapter! Strings. Life was strings. Almost like pushpins on a bulletin board with yarn connecting the dots. Everything was connected. Everything.
She’d always thought of life that way. Thought of science that way. It had been one of the few ways she’d consoled herself as a child when her mother would turn violent. When she’d think of the loving father who’d supposedly been dead since she wasn’t yet a teenager. When she’d think of the two sisters who she’d loved since the moments they were born.
Since her best friend had married the father she’d found when she was a full-grown woman. Since that best friend had given birth to her two youngest siblings almost six months earlier.
Everything and everyone was connected. Working forensics for the best federal agency in the country was just another string that made up her life.
Josh was a string, too. That was why she found herself opening the door to the house where she knew she’d find him. It wasn’t where he lived—but he owned it, along with four other property foreclosures that he was in the middle of rehabbing in his spare time. She’d tried two other properties first—one reason it was so late.
She had to be at work in seven hours. So did he.
That was one of the things that brought her to one of the up-and-coming St. Louis neighborhoods so late at night. The case he’d just finished had been one of those that everyone knew was a nightmare. One that would stay with you for years to come—if you ever escaped it.
And Josh had been the one to hold the twelve year old boy as the child had died. Had held him, talked with him, and from what she’d been told by her father in confidence a few hours earlier, had tried to reassure the kid that life on the other side would be better than the one the boy was leaving behind. Because they’d all known the boy, son of the perpetrator, would not live through the day. And he hadn’t.
And Josh had been the one to step up and stay with the little boy who’d had no one.
She found him in what would one day be a dining room, yanking up the hardwood and ripping each individual nail free with his hammer. His hair, longer than she’d expected from a Mr. Conservative like Josh, was uncombed and shaggy around his face. His glasses were missing, though she knew he really only used them for reading, and sweat trickled down his forehead. He’d yanked his shirt off and wore only a thin tank undershirt.
He definitely didn’t look all bookish and intellectual without his shirt, muscles flexing as he yanked and ripped. She’d noticed that before whenever she caught him doing something so physical. He didn’t have a football player build, but he wasn’t rail skinny either. And he was strong, extremely so.
He’d worked his way through college and post-grad doing construction. As smart as he was—he had two PhD’s compared to her one—and he’d still had to pay part of his way with manual labor.
As she looked at him, she couldn’t help but think how it had definitely paid off. Josh was damned hot, and she wasn’t too blind to see that.
But he was also one of her best friends and she hated to see him hurting. “Josh?”
It took her a few tries, but he eventually looked at her. It was then that she realized some of what she’d thought was sweat on his cheeks wasn’t.
Something about seeing a strong man weeping had her gut clenching and her own eyes watering. He wiped the tears, sweat, dust, all off it off his face with the waistband of his shirt, exposing a very well-defined set of abs. “Kelly Danielle, what the fuck are you doing down here this late? Are you trying to get mugged, or worse?”
“Hardly.” He was one of the only people on the planet who called her by her full name—something she usually snipped at him about. But not tonight. Josh rarely cursed. And never at a woman. Never at her. And she’d never seen him cry before. He’d always been so strong. She’d been the one to weep and break down in front of him dozens of times before. “Everyone was worried about you. And no one could get a hold of you. I took a chance on a hunch. Figured you were doing exactly what you are doing. It just took a little time to find out the where.”
“What I’m doing is trying to make this dump turn a profit. How did you get here?” He wiped his hands on a rag then straightened. Kelly looked up at him. Josh was six-four or five and had more than half a foot on her. Long, tall, and beautiful. If someone was smart enough to look closely at him, to look past the conservative dress and glasses.
“I took a magic carpet. Seriously? I took a cab, all three places.”
“You didn’t have to. I just…needed some time to think.”
“I know what happened.”
“Do you? How can anyone?”
There was so much bitterness in his words. Something she wasn’t used to hearing from him. Josh usually had an almost Zen attitude about the world. A sort of acceptance that there was evil out there, and that evil was balanced by hope. He was such an optimist it had driven her crazy the first few moths she’d know him.
But that attitude had been missing a lot lately.
And that worried her, just as much as worried the others who cared about him. Like her father. It was his concern that had really set her out looking for Josh. She didn’t like seeing the one parent who she actually loved and respected worried. Her dad had enough on his plate right now. But he’d been genuinely concerned for Josh.
And his concern had rubbed off on Kelly. “I just wanted to check on you, make sure you were as all right as you could be.”
“Hell no, I’m not.” He threw the hammer and it imbedded in the plaster wall. Kelly jumped, fighting the instinctive urge to back away. She didn’t deal with such violent emotions very well. And she never had.
A curl of fear went through her stomach but she ruthlessly pushed it away. She didn’t have to be afraid of this man and she knew that. Deep down where it counted she knew that. It was just the tenseness of the moment causing her anxiety. “Josh…”
He looked at her, from eyes that were so pain-filled she wanted to weep for him. “I held him. I held him for four hours because he didn’t have anyone else. Not so much as a second-cousin. He wasn’t any older than Ry, Kelly. And I kept seeing Ryan there. And I kept thinking why couldn’t that little boy have had someone there who loved him like we love Ryan. Why did he have to die knowing that the one person on the planet who should have protected him was the one who put him in that hospital bed to begin with? And why didn’t I see what was going on sooner?”
“It wasn’t your fault.” And it wasn’t. Her father had shared enough of the case specifics for her to know that. But Josh put so much pressure on himself sometimes. “You can’t protect everyone; we both know that. You did the best you could. And that little boy at least had you with him to help him not be quite as alone. That matters.”
Kelly did something she so rarely did, especially with an attractive guy, she hugged him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and she held on. It didn’t matter that he was covered in sweat and grime and heaven only knew what else, she just held him...
She’d always thought of life that way. Thought of science that way. It had been one of the few ways she’d consoled herself as a child when her mother would turn violent. When she’d think of the loving father who’d supposedly been dead since she wasn’t yet a teenager. When she’d think of the two sisters who she’d loved since the moments they were born.
Since her best friend had married the father she’d found when she was a full-grown woman. Since that best friend had given birth to her two youngest siblings almost six months earlier.
Everything and everyone was connected. Working forensics for the best federal agency in the country was just another string that made up her life.
Josh was a string, too. That was why she found herself opening the door to the house where she knew she’d find him. It wasn’t where he lived—but he owned it, along with four other property foreclosures that he was in the middle of rehabbing in his spare time. She’d tried two other properties first—one reason it was so late.
She had to be at work in seven hours. So did he.
That was one of the things that brought her to one of the up-and-coming St. Louis neighborhoods so late at night. The case he’d just finished had been one of those that everyone knew was a nightmare. One that would stay with you for years to come—if you ever escaped it.
And Josh had been the one to hold the twelve year old boy as the child had died. Had held him, talked with him, and from what she’d been told by her father in confidence a few hours earlier, had tried to reassure the kid that life on the other side would be better than the one the boy was leaving behind. Because they’d all known the boy, son of the perpetrator, would not live through the day. And he hadn’t.
And Josh had been the one to step up and stay with the little boy who’d had no one.
She found him in what would one day be a dining room, yanking up the hardwood and ripping each individual nail free with his hammer. His hair, longer than she’d expected from a Mr. Conservative like Josh, was uncombed and shaggy around his face. His glasses were missing, though she knew he really only used them for reading, and sweat trickled down his forehead. He’d yanked his shirt off and wore only a thin tank undershirt.
He definitely didn’t look all bookish and intellectual without his shirt, muscles flexing as he yanked and ripped. She’d noticed that before whenever she caught him doing something so physical. He didn’t have a football player build, but he wasn’t rail skinny either. And he was strong, extremely so.
He’d worked his way through college and post-grad doing construction. As smart as he was—he had two PhD’s compared to her one—and he’d still had to pay part of his way with manual labor.
As she looked at him, she couldn’t help but think how it had definitely paid off. Josh was damned hot, and she wasn’t too blind to see that.
But he was also one of her best friends and she hated to see him hurting. “Josh?”
It took her a few tries, but he eventually looked at her. It was then that she realized some of what she’d thought was sweat on his cheeks wasn’t.
Something about seeing a strong man weeping had her gut clenching and her own eyes watering. He wiped the tears, sweat, dust, all off it off his face with the waistband of his shirt, exposing a very well-defined set of abs. “Kelly Danielle, what the fuck are you doing down here this late? Are you trying to get mugged, or worse?”
“Hardly.” He was one of the only people on the planet who called her by her full name—something she usually snipped at him about. But not tonight. Josh rarely cursed. And never at a woman. Never at her. And she’d never seen him cry before. He’d always been so strong. She’d been the one to weep and break down in front of him dozens of times before. “Everyone was worried about you. And no one could get a hold of you. I took a chance on a hunch. Figured you were doing exactly what you are doing. It just took a little time to find out the where.”
“What I’m doing is trying to make this dump turn a profit. How did you get here?” He wiped his hands on a rag then straightened. Kelly looked up at him. Josh was six-four or five and had more than half a foot on her. Long, tall, and beautiful. If someone was smart enough to look closely at him, to look past the conservative dress and glasses.
“I took a magic carpet. Seriously? I took a cab, all three places.”
“You didn’t have to. I just…needed some time to think.”
“I know what happened.”
“Do you? How can anyone?”
There was so much bitterness in his words. Something she wasn’t used to hearing from him. Josh usually had an almost Zen attitude about the world. A sort of acceptance that there was evil out there, and that evil was balanced by hope. He was such an optimist it had driven her crazy the first few moths she’d know him.
But that attitude had been missing a lot lately.
And that worried her, just as much as worried the others who cared about him. Like her father. It was his concern that had really set her out looking for Josh. She didn’t like seeing the one parent who she actually loved and respected worried. Her dad had enough on his plate right now. But he’d been genuinely concerned for Josh.
And his concern had rubbed off on Kelly. “I just wanted to check on you, make sure you were as all right as you could be.”
“Hell no, I’m not.” He threw the hammer and it imbedded in the plaster wall. Kelly jumped, fighting the instinctive urge to back away. She didn’t deal with such violent emotions very well. And she never had.
A curl of fear went through her stomach but she ruthlessly pushed it away. She didn’t have to be afraid of this man and she knew that. Deep down where it counted she knew that. It was just the tenseness of the moment causing her anxiety. “Josh…”
He looked at her, from eyes that were so pain-filled she wanted to weep for him. “I held him. I held him for four hours because he didn’t have anyone else. Not so much as a second-cousin. He wasn’t any older than Ry, Kelly. And I kept seeing Ryan there. And I kept thinking why couldn’t that little boy have had someone there who loved him like we love Ryan. Why did he have to die knowing that the one person on the planet who should have protected him was the one who put him in that hospital bed to begin with? And why didn’t I see what was going on sooner?”
“It wasn’t your fault.” And it wasn’t. Her father had shared enough of the case specifics for her to know that. But Josh put so much pressure on himself sometimes. “You can’t protect everyone; we both know that. You did the best you could. And that little boy at least had you with him to help him not be quite as alone. That matters.”
Kelly did something she so rarely did, especially with an attractive guy, she hugged him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and she held on. It didn’t matter that he was covered in sweat and grime and heaven only knew what else, she just held him...
Sneak Peak at Ghosting
I'm working away at Ghosting and am 90% certain this will be the opening chapter! Strings. Life was strings. Almost like pushpins on a bulletin board with yarn connecting the dots. Everything was connected. Everything.
She’d always thought of life that way. Thought of science that way. It had been one of the few ways she’d consoled herself as a child when her mother would turn violent. When she’d think of the loving father who’d supposedly been dead since she wasn’t yet a teenager. When she’d think of the two sisters who she’d loved since the moments they were born.
Since her best friend had married the father she’d found when she was a full-grown woman. Since that best friend had given birth to her two youngest siblings almost six months earlier.
Everything and everyone was connected. Working forensics for the best federal agency in the country was just another string that made up her life.
Josh was a string, too. That was why she found herself opening the door to the house where she knew she’d find him. It wasn’t where he lived—but he owned it, along with four other property foreclosures that he was in the middle of rehabbing in his spare time. She’d tried two other properties first—one reason it was so late.
She had to be at work in seven hours. So did he.
That was one of the things that brought her to one of the up-and-coming St. Louis neighborhoods so late at night. The case he’d just finished had been one of those that everyone knew was a nightmare. One that would stay with you for years to come—if you ever escaped it.
And Josh had been the one to hold the twelve year old boy as the child had died. Had held him, talked with him, and from what she’d been told by her father in confidence a few hours earlier, had tried to reassure the kid that life on the other side would be better than the one the boy was leaving behind. Because they’d all known the boy, son of the perpetrator, would not live through the day. And he hadn’t.
And Josh had been the one to step up and stay with the little boy who’d had no one.
She found him in what would one day be a dining room, yanking up the hardwood and ripping each individual nail free with his hammer. His hair, longer than she’d expected from a Mr. Conservative like Josh, was uncombed and shaggy around his face. His glasses were missing, though she knew he really only used them for reading, and sweat trickled down his forehead. He’d yanked his shirt off and wore only a thin tank undershirt.
He definitely didn’t look all bookish and intellectual without his shirt, muscles flexing as he yanked and ripped. She’d noticed that before whenever she caught him doing something so physical. He didn’t have a football player build, but he wasn’t rail skinny either. And he was strong, extremely so.
He’d worked his way through college and post-grad doing construction. As smart as he was—he had two PhD’s compared to her one—and he’d still had to pay part of his way with manual labor.
As she looked at him, she couldn’t help but think how it had definitely paid off. Josh was damned hot, and she wasn’t too blind to see that.
But he was also one of her best friends and she hated to see him hurting. “Josh?”
It took her a few tries, but he eventually looked at her. It was then that she realized some of what she’d thought was sweat on his cheeks wasn’t.
Something about seeing a strong man weeping had her gut clenching and her own eyes watering. He wiped the tears, sweat, dust, all off it off his face with the waistband of his shirt, exposing a very well-defined set of abs. “Kelly Danielle, what the fuck are you doing down here this late? Are you trying to get mugged, or worse?”
“Hardly.” He was one of the only people on the planet who called her by her full name—something she usually snipped at him about. But not tonight. Josh rarely cursed. And never at a woman. Never at her. And she’d never seen him cry before. He’d always been so strong. She’d been the one to weep and break down in front of him dozens of times before. “Everyone was worried about you. And no one could get a hold of you. I took a chance on a hunch. Figured you were doing exactly what you are doing. It just took a little time to find out the where.”
“What I’m doing is trying to make this dump turn a profit. How did you get here?” He wiped his hands on a rag then straightened. Kelly looked up at him. Josh was six-four or five and had more than half a foot on her. Long, tall, and beautiful. If someone was smart enough to look closely at him, to look past the conservative dress and glasses.
“I took a magic carpet. Seriously? I took a cab, all three places.”
“You didn’t have to. I just…needed some time to think.”
“I know what happened.”
“Do you? How can anyone?”
There was so much bitterness in his words. Something she wasn’t used to hearing from him. Josh usually had an almost Zen attitude about the world. A sort of acceptance that there was evil out there, and that evil was balanced by hope. He was such an optimist it had driven her crazy the first few moths she’d know him.
But that attitude had been missing a lot lately.
And that worried her, just as much as worried the others who cared about him. Like her father. It was his concern that had really set her out looking for Josh. She didn’t like seeing the one parent who she actually loved and respected worried. Her dad had enough on his plate right now. But he’d been genuinely concerned for Josh.
And his concern had rubbed off on Kelly. “I just wanted to check on you, make sure you were as all right as you could be.”
“Hell no, I’m not.” He threw the hammer and it imbedded in the plaster wall. Kelly jumped, fighting the instinctive urge to back away. She didn’t deal with such violent emotions very well. And she never had.
A curl of fear went through her stomach but she ruthlessly pushed it away. She didn’t have to be afraid of this man and she knew that. Deep down where it counted she knew that. It was just the tenseness of the moment causing her anxiety. “Josh…”
He looked at her, from eyes that were so pain-filled she wanted to weep for him. “I held him. I held him for four hours because he didn’t have anyone else. Not so much as a second-cousin. He wasn’t any older than Ry, Kelly. And I kept seeing Ryan there. And I kept thinking why couldn’t that little boy have had someone there who loved him like we love Ryan. Why did he have to die knowing that the one person on the planet who should have protected him was the one who put him in that hospital bed to begin with? And why didn’t I see what was going on sooner?”
“It wasn’t your fault.” And it wasn’t. Her father had shared enough of the case specifics for her to know that. But Josh put so much pressure on himself sometimes. “You can’t protect everyone; we both know that. You did the best you could. And that little boy at least had you with him to help him not be quite as alone. That matters.”
Kelly did something she so rarely did, especially with an attractive guy, she hugged him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and she held on. It didn’t matter that he was covered in sweat and grime and heaven only knew what else, she just held him...
She’d always thought of life that way. Thought of science that way. It had been one of the few ways she’d consoled herself as a child when her mother would turn violent. When she’d think of the loving father who’d supposedly been dead since she wasn’t yet a teenager. When she’d think of the two sisters who she’d loved since the moments they were born.
Since her best friend had married the father she’d found when she was a full-grown woman. Since that best friend had given birth to her two youngest siblings almost six months earlier.
Everything and everyone was connected. Working forensics for the best federal agency in the country was just another string that made up her life.
Josh was a string, too. That was why she found herself opening the door to the house where she knew she’d find him. It wasn’t where he lived—but he owned it, along with four other property foreclosures that he was in the middle of rehabbing in his spare time. She’d tried two other properties first—one reason it was so late.
She had to be at work in seven hours. So did he.
That was one of the things that brought her to one of the up-and-coming St. Louis neighborhoods so late at night. The case he’d just finished had been one of those that everyone knew was a nightmare. One that would stay with you for years to come—if you ever escaped it.
And Josh had been the one to hold the twelve year old boy as the child had died. Had held him, talked with him, and from what she’d been told by her father in confidence a few hours earlier, had tried to reassure the kid that life on the other side would be better than the one the boy was leaving behind. Because they’d all known the boy, son of the perpetrator, would not live through the day. And he hadn’t.
And Josh had been the one to step up and stay with the little boy who’d had no one.
She found him in what would one day be a dining room, yanking up the hardwood and ripping each individual nail free with his hammer. His hair, longer than she’d expected from a Mr. Conservative like Josh, was uncombed and shaggy around his face. His glasses were missing, though she knew he really only used them for reading, and sweat trickled down his forehead. He’d yanked his shirt off and wore only a thin tank undershirt.
He definitely didn’t look all bookish and intellectual without his shirt, muscles flexing as he yanked and ripped. She’d noticed that before whenever she caught him doing something so physical. He didn’t have a football player build, but he wasn’t rail skinny either. And he was strong, extremely so.
He’d worked his way through college and post-grad doing construction. As smart as he was—he had two PhD’s compared to her one—and he’d still had to pay part of his way with manual labor.
As she looked at him, she couldn’t help but think how it had definitely paid off. Josh was damned hot, and she wasn’t too blind to see that.
But he was also one of her best friends and she hated to see him hurting. “Josh?”
It took her a few tries, but he eventually looked at her. It was then that she realized some of what she’d thought was sweat on his cheeks wasn’t.
Something about seeing a strong man weeping had her gut clenching and her own eyes watering. He wiped the tears, sweat, dust, all off it off his face with the waistband of his shirt, exposing a very well-defined set of abs. “Kelly Danielle, what the fuck are you doing down here this late? Are you trying to get mugged, or worse?”
“Hardly.” He was one of the only people on the planet who called her by her full name—something she usually snipped at him about. But not tonight. Josh rarely cursed. And never at a woman. Never at her. And she’d never seen him cry before. He’d always been so strong. She’d been the one to weep and break down in front of him dozens of times before. “Everyone was worried about you. And no one could get a hold of you. I took a chance on a hunch. Figured you were doing exactly what you are doing. It just took a little time to find out the where.”
“What I’m doing is trying to make this dump turn a profit. How did you get here?” He wiped his hands on a rag then straightened. Kelly looked up at him. Josh was six-four or five and had more than half a foot on her. Long, tall, and beautiful. If someone was smart enough to look closely at him, to look past the conservative dress and glasses.
“I took a magic carpet. Seriously? I took a cab, all three places.”
“You didn’t have to. I just…needed some time to think.”
“I know what happened.”
“Do you? How can anyone?”
There was so much bitterness in his words. Something she wasn’t used to hearing from him. Josh usually had an almost Zen attitude about the world. A sort of acceptance that there was evil out there, and that evil was balanced by hope. He was such an optimist it had driven her crazy the first few moths she’d know him.
But that attitude had been missing a lot lately.
And that worried her, just as much as worried the others who cared about him. Like her father. It was his concern that had really set her out looking for Josh. She didn’t like seeing the one parent who she actually loved and respected worried. Her dad had enough on his plate right now. But he’d been genuinely concerned for Josh.
And his concern had rubbed off on Kelly. “I just wanted to check on you, make sure you were as all right as you could be.”
“Hell no, I’m not.” He threw the hammer and it imbedded in the plaster wall. Kelly jumped, fighting the instinctive urge to back away. She didn’t deal with such violent emotions very well. And she never had.
A curl of fear went through her stomach but she ruthlessly pushed it away. She didn’t have to be afraid of this man and she knew that. Deep down where it counted she knew that. It was just the tenseness of the moment causing her anxiety. “Josh…”
He looked at her, from eyes that were so pain-filled she wanted to weep for him. “I held him. I held him for four hours because he didn’t have anyone else. Not so much as a second-cousin. He wasn’t any older than Ry, Kelly. And I kept seeing Ryan there. And I kept thinking why couldn’t that little boy have had someone there who loved him like we love Ryan. Why did he have to die knowing that the one person on the planet who should have protected him was the one who put him in that hospital bed to begin with? And why didn’t I see what was going on sooner?”
“It wasn’t your fault.” And it wasn’t. Her father had shared enough of the case specifics for her to know that. But Josh put so much pressure on himself sometimes. “You can’t protect everyone; we both know that. You did the best you could. And that little boy at least had you with him to help him not be quite as alone. That matters.”
Kelly did something she so rarely did, especially with an attractive guy, she hugged him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and she held on. It didn’t matter that he was covered in sweat and grime and heaven only knew what else, she just held him...
October 19, 2014
Whole Wheat Pumpkin Poppy Seed Muffins
Every time we cook around here we ask ourselves a certain question—is it safe for Stinkerbell to eat?
It had better be!
Now that is close to four she understands that there are some foods she absolutely cannot touch. Eggs, dairy, nuts, and soy are the main issues in our house. We also don’t do pepper, fish, watermelon, or sweet potatoes with her because of suspected allergies. And we eliminated rice from her diet recently because she was reacting to that after being on rice milk for two years. (Eliminating it also freed up over $100 a month in rice milk costs!)
But without a milk substitute it makes cooking a weeee bit tough. At times. I'm adjusting.
I actually love cooking, and have since I was about nine. I spend a lot of time online searching out recipes to try for her. We are also working on being mostly whole food based in the next year, so that adds another challenge. We want healthy, easy, realistic foods for her. (I can’t see spending a fortune on ingredients that I’ll only use on a rare occasion—they are expensive, take up too much valuable shelf space, and they often go out-of-date before I can use them!)
She’s not really a picky eater and will try just about anything I put in front of her—including veggies--so that is a blessing! It makes things a whole lot easier.
I finally feel confident in cooking that if I want something in particular and can’t find a recipe that is safe for her, I’ll make up my own.
But…we work, we homeschool, we take care of our house and the rental property that needs serious refabbing, and we have other obligations that eat into every day. I don’t have a whole lot of time to spend cooking.
So my recipes have to be really quick—and since kiddo has started pulling a footstool up to the counter to see what I am doing, and I want her to understand food from a very early age so that she can take control of her food allergies—they have to be simple.
So…here’s today’s recipe creation. Not too difficult, very tasty (enough so that Cody, who is not a big fan of pumpkin or poppyseed anything actually liked them!), and can-be-mixed-by-a-three-year-old simple.
*I had half a can (around 8 oz) of pumpkin puree left from the pumpkin bread I made earlier this week, which is why I went with pumpkin, but any pureed fruit would work (I plan to try it with banana soon)!
Whole Wheat Pumpkin Poppy Seed Muffins
Ø1 cup whole wheat flour (I love whole wheat, the flavor is great! But you could probably use AP in place of this here, or if you are gluten-free, your favorite flour blend)
Ø1 cup all-purpose flourؾ cup brown sugarØ2 tsp. baking powderؽ tsp baking sodaØ1 tsp. pumpkin pie spice(ginger, nutmeg, cinnamon, and cloves)
ؽ tsp sea saltØ1 cup apple juiceؼ cup corn oilØ1 cup pumpkin pureeؾ tsp. poppy seedؼ tsp. vanilla
vPreheat oven to 350. vMix the dry ingredients. vAdd wet ingredients. vMix well, until most of the lumps are gone.vGrease the pan lightly. (I use these siliconemuffin cups from Walmart--$4.44 for twelve, so no greasing necessary!)
vFill each cup evenly. vBake 20-25 minutes until toothpick comes out clean.
vCool and enjoy! It makes 12 decent-sized muffins.
I was planning to take a pic to post, but...I forgot to charge the camera and by the time that was finished--Cody and Stinkerbell had gobbled down the last two muffins!
It had better be!
Now that is close to four she understands that there are some foods she absolutely cannot touch. Eggs, dairy, nuts, and soy are the main issues in our house. We also don’t do pepper, fish, watermelon, or sweet potatoes with her because of suspected allergies. And we eliminated rice from her diet recently because she was reacting to that after being on rice milk for two years. (Eliminating it also freed up over $100 a month in rice milk costs!)
But without a milk substitute it makes cooking a weeee bit tough. At times. I'm adjusting.
I actually love cooking, and have since I was about nine. I spend a lot of time online searching out recipes to try for her. We are also working on being mostly whole food based in the next year, so that adds another challenge. We want healthy, easy, realistic foods for her. (I can’t see spending a fortune on ingredients that I’ll only use on a rare occasion—they are expensive, take up too much valuable shelf space, and they often go out-of-date before I can use them!)
She’s not really a picky eater and will try just about anything I put in front of her—including veggies--so that is a blessing! It makes things a whole lot easier.
I finally feel confident in cooking that if I want something in particular and can’t find a recipe that is safe for her, I’ll make up my own.
But…we work, we homeschool, we take care of our house and the rental property that needs serious refabbing, and we have other obligations that eat into every day. I don’t have a whole lot of time to spend cooking.
So my recipes have to be really quick—and since kiddo has started pulling a footstool up to the counter to see what I am doing, and I want her to understand food from a very early age so that she can take control of her food allergies—they have to be simple.
So…here’s today’s recipe creation. Not too difficult, very tasty (enough so that Cody, who is not a big fan of pumpkin or poppyseed anything actually liked them!), and can-be-mixed-by-a-three-year-old simple.
*I had half a can (around 8 oz) of pumpkin puree left from the pumpkin bread I made earlier this week, which is why I went with pumpkin, but any pureed fruit would work (I plan to try it with banana soon)!
Whole Wheat Pumpkin Poppy Seed Muffins
Ø1 cup whole wheat flour (I love whole wheat, the flavor is great! But you could probably use AP in place of this here, or if you are gluten-free, your favorite flour blend)
Ø1 cup all-purpose flourؾ cup brown sugarØ2 tsp. baking powderؽ tsp baking sodaØ1 tsp. pumpkin pie spice(ginger, nutmeg, cinnamon, and cloves)
ؽ tsp sea saltØ1 cup apple juiceؼ cup corn oilØ1 cup pumpkin pureeؾ tsp. poppy seedؼ tsp. vanilla
vPreheat oven to 350. vMix the dry ingredients. vAdd wet ingredients. vMix well, until most of the lumps are gone.vGrease the pan lightly. (I use these siliconemuffin cups from Walmart--$4.44 for twelve, so no greasing necessary!)vFill each cup evenly. vBake 20-25 minutes until toothpick comes out clean.
vCool and enjoy! It makes 12 decent-sized muffins.
I was planning to take a pic to post, but...I forgot to charge the camera and by the time that was finished--Cody and Stinkerbell had gobbled down the last two muffins!
October 16, 2014
Allergy Free Pumpkin Bread, The Witch, and Google
Tonight I googled worm poop. Yeah, never thought I’d type those words.
Our daughter (<4 yrs) has discovered the power that is google. She wanted to see tigers, giraffes, baby elephants, mommy elephants with babies-in-their-bellies, germs, ear infections, and worm poop.
So, like a good homeschooling mom, I googled. We watched several videos from the Indianapolis Zoo (she really liked the ones of the walrus recycling and the baby elephant getting a bath), found a diagram of an ear infection that was pretty simple, and then I searched out worm poop.
Ick.
But she was happy, and I love seeing how she is developing such specific interests. The ear infection, I understand. We visited our pedi today for an ear infection and she’s always been fascinated by him (She swears she’s going to be an outer space doctor when she gets bigger). She’s absolutely obsessed with anatomy and was telling me the other day that the reason she has blue eyes is because her little body computers told her to. Her D-A-N. Took me a minute to figure out she meant DNA, LOL.
Smart little monster child. An ear infection diagram, especially once she realized what was causing her ear to hurt, would be right up her alley!
I’m glad I get to be home with her every day, to see the way her eyes light up when she looks at worm poop for the first time, and wonders what elephant poop will look like. I’m glad I get to be the one to take her to the doctor when she has the inevitable ear infection now and then.
And I’m glad she gets to see me (and her daddy) working toward common goals, and enjoying what we do every day.
Without those of you who buy my books that wouldn’t be possible, so…
Thank You.
There’s nothing more I can say, so I’m going to end with an excerpt of the latest WIP…
Dardanos Book 13The Witch
Chapter One
The town was destroyed, no one looking at it would think any differently. The main hall, what had once been the resort and home of the ruling family had been burned until little remained of it but ruins. She’d visited it—once—when her closest friend had married into the ruling family.
Now she did not know where Jade had ended up, and worry for her friend was utmost in her mind. But there was nothing she could do—if she did not follow the path that had been outlined for her so many millennia ago then a lot more lives would be lost than just one.\
She’d always known her path would be one that touched on darkness.
Each and every time she had been reborn with the knowledge that in one of her lives she would be called on to bring forth evil.
For if evil was not reborn, then it could not be defeated.
Right now, and for the last three thousand years, the evil had been merely waiting. Holding itself together until lives were born that would unleash it.
Defeat it.
But that defeat was not written in stone, either. And that was what Loren Nellana was counting on. Somehow, people had been born who could fight that evil.
But first she needed to find them.
And when she’d awakened that morning, in the bedroom she’d grown up in she’d known exactly what it was she was supposed to do.
Her mother had wept. But she had understood—her mother had known from Loren’s birth that something waited for her. And she’d taught Loren to understand what sacrifice would be. What it would look like someday.
Her mother walked beside her in this city of ruins. Loren didn’t know why she was so surprise that her mother had chosen to leave the safety of the life she had known in Denver, but her mother had. She had to be terrified—her mother was not Druid. And had been born human. She knew so little of what Loren was. But her mother had the gift of foresight, something that rare humans did. Her mother had known and acted accordingly.
But how was Loren to keep the person she loved more than anything safe in a world unlike any they had ever known? If Loren was even able to open the walls that separated the Gaian—or human—world from that of the demons.
That was her ultimate destination. The people she was searching for waited for her there.
The dark sorcerer waited as well.
Did anyone else realize that? Weren’t their prognosticators among the demons?
Loren would be the first to admit the demon world was one she knew very little about. She had been only to Levia, and that was when she had been a very young child and her father was still living.
He had been a high Druid, one of the priests of the goddess Nelciana. He had been killed by a rogue Lupoiux pack when protecting Loren and her mother. She had been seven years old and the car they had been riding in had broken down right in the middle of the Redd Gothan pack of wolves. Her mother had managed to get Loren to safety. But her father had been taken and killed.
Her mother was so alone.
Loren worried for her.
But now she had to push that worry aside. There was far too much for her to do now.
Chapter Two
Jushua’s sword clashed against his brother’s. Dekimos smirked at him. “You have learned little, Jushie. I can still defeat you.”
Jushua thrust again. Once, when they were young the taunting name would have maddened him. But Dekimos had been lost to him thousands of years ago, along with most of their other siblings. Only Jushua’s twin had survived the dark sorcerer’s attack.
Dekimos had been felled, but because of his great healing gifts his soul had managed to forge itself together again within months of the attack.
It was only in the last four months that Dekimos had been returned to him. Jushua took his brother’s return as the gift it was.
Still…
That did not mean he—as the youngest male of the original Dardaptos line—wanted his older brother to defeat him in sword play.
It was a matter of honor.
He forced himself to concentrate—to show Deki, the brother more at home healing than killing—how much sword technique he had developed in four thousand years. And it somehow seemed wrong to him that the greatest healer his Kind had ever known should pick up a sword.
Dekimos had long practiced passivism. But that had changed the day Deki was murdered by the sorcerer.
Jushua would die to protect the man he fought now. Never again would his brother face that dark threat.
Never again would Jushua be forced to leave the fallen body of one of his siblings behind. Not like he had before. He had been at his brother Kilan’s side when his brother had charged the dark sorcerer. When Kilan had fallen protecting his Rajna, his brother’s mate. Jushua had tried to protect Kilan, but his brother had known he was dying. Kilan had looked at him over the body of the already gone Rajna and made Jushua vow to protect the rest of the family.
And their mother.
He had found her clutching his youngest sister against her chest. Nelciana’s sister Nalornora was dead next to his mother. She had been but sixteen, with the promise of great beauty ahead of her. But his sister had been but three years, and no piece of her soul had remained. The Dark Sorcerer had devoured her.
His mother was burned and scarred and desolate. And the dark sorcerer’s fire was coming toward them. He had lifted his mother in his arms, still clutching the dead child, and he had carried her into another world.
He had buried his sister beneath a butterfly tree, knowing the little girl would have loved the bright pinks and purples of the flowers that resembled Gaian butterflies.
He had taken his mother to a place where she could be safe, where the burns upon her body could heal. He had stayed with her for three days, until he’d found help for her. Then he had returned to the world of his birth.
To Evalanedea, land of his father’s fathers. His family and the Nellanas, of which Rajna had been a daughter, had settled the world of Evalanadea.
But the dark sorcerer had wanted it. And had taken it.
Jushua had found a band of survivors numbering less than 400. His siblings and the entire Nellana family were not among them.
And his mother had lived with fear in her soul ever since.
Jushua swung his blade. Deki parried.
“Come on, little brother, you can do far better than that.”
The taunt came from behind Jushua. But he did not turn around. The voice belonged to the male that had been reborn with Kilan’s soul.
Nalik Black even possessed a scar that echoed the blow the dark sorcerer had given Kilan that felled the eldest Dardaptoan brother.
Nalik was a mere seven hundred years, but thanks to his ascension to Laquazzeana in recent years, he was far older in strength and power.
Jushua wasn’t entirely certain he—even with Dekimos at his side—could defeat the Gaian Dardaptoan.
There were too many damned Laquazzeana in this world for his own comfort.
His mother was one. Nalik and Nalik’s mate Cassandra, the prince of this world had a Laquazzeana mate who scared the shit out of Jushua, and there was the healer girl Bronwen, whose male had found Dekimos.
And he suspected his brother Deki was one as well. But he had not asked, nor would he.
Laquazzeana were more powerful than any deity of any world Jushua had ever visited. They were strong, powerful, and some said bordering on insane.
Some said the power that filled them was enough to eat at their souls. That was one reason many spent time in total isolation. Deki had been alone for thousands of years before he had been found.
“The upstart waits. Think you we can take him?”Deki asked.
“You cannot even take me on alone, dear brother. Let alone ol’batboy.” Nalik had the unique ability to shift into multiple animals, and frequently chose the Gaian bat—a small, winged rodent—as his preferred animal. Nalik had smirked and said Jushua wouldn’t get it when Jushua had first asked about the choice of such a small creature.
He could have at least chosen a hawk or other raptor. Something a bit more masculine than a cuddly mouse with wings.
“Jushua, there are things I know about that your small warrior brain will never be able to understand. I can bring you to your knees without thought.”
Deki dropped the sword then moved quicker than a spirit-blur. Jushua found his weapon yanked from his hands and imbedded in the hard stone of the castle yard—inches from Nalik’s feet.
Jushua himself ended up face down on the ground, his older brother sitting upon him. “Yield, little Jushie?”
“If the two of you are finished playing, we have business to take care of.”
Jushua looked up at Nalik and was disconcerted for just a moment at how much the reborned one looked like the original soul possessor. Did he have Kilan’s thoughts and memories? Did he remember Kilan giving Jushua his first sword? Training him in the wheat fields that had surrounded the castle that they had called home? Or was it just the physical visage the male possessed, and just a fraction of Kilan’s soul?
He did not know how it had been managed. How had his twin Kennera, goddess of the Gaian Dardaptoans, managed to rebirth their siblings’ souls?
They had found two more reborn siblings among the Gaian Dardaptoans who had been relocated to the demon world months ago—Havalana the Healer, and the Laquazzeana healer girl Bronwen. Jushua did not know how it was he was supposed to feel about the females.
They were not the sisters he had once known and loved—but they were. In a way.
Dardaptoans believed in the notion of recycled souls. It was something Jushua and his own father had discussed eons ago. But that someone of their Kind had managed to somehow force particular souls to be reborn because of the love that someone held for the rebirthed spirit—that had never been done before the dark sorcerer’s attack. And as far as he knew, save for Kennera and Nelciana Nellana—the Gaian Druid Goddess that Jushua had once been betrothed to—it had not been done since.
His mother had embraced the reborn souls with all the fervor that only a mother with a lost child could. Havalana? Possessed the very spirit of the sister Jushua had buried beneath the butterfly tree. How was he supposed to think of that?
“What business have we?” Deki was more aware than Jushua apparently. Why was his head so clouded?
Jushua looked at Deki and saw the smirk. “What, Jushie? Think you I would not use all the weapons I possess in battle? Forgot you what father and Kilan had taught us?”
His brother held out a hand and Jushua took it, the gesture a sign of respect and trust. The fog on his mind immediately cleared.
Dekimos had learned a lot in his four thousand years hidden in another world. Jushua did not know exactly where his brother had been all those years, and had yet to ask. Dekimos had made it very clear that he was not ready to divulge all of his secrets. And Jushua had to respect that.
“What business?” He looked at Nalik again. Two other males walked at his side that Jushua vaguely recognized. Barlaam, the Dardaptoan Healer, and a Lupoiux alpha named Taniss. They spent most of their time at the castle of the High King.
It was taking Jushua a bit of time getting used to the idea that demons—beings he had once battled ferociously in his previous land—ruled the land he now occupied. Where he’d brought the tribe of four hundred that had grown to number over two hundred thousand.
“What is about to happen? Tell me."
The Witch will be releasing on Dec. 15, 2014. Hopefully I will have it ready as a preorder by Dec. 1!
I also googled an egg, dairy, nut, soy free pumpkin bread recipe and couldn’t find one I liked, so I settled on one that I modified for my own uses. Here it is! Very simple!1 ½ c flour
1/3 c sugar1/3 c brown sugar½ TBS baking powder¼ tsp baking soda1/4 tsp. pumpkin pie spice1/8 tsp. cinnamon1/8 tsp. salt
½ can pumpkin puree (around 7.5 oz)3 TBS apple butter¼ c oil
In a bowl combine sugar, flour, sugars, baking powder, baking soda, spices, and salt. Mix well. In second bowl, combine pumpkin, apple butter, and oil. Combine the two bowls into one, and mix well. Grease pan. Pour in batter, and cook at 350 degrees for 50-60 minutes until toothpick comes out clean! Cool, cut, and enjoy! (I did sprinkle some brown sugar on top at the end.)
If anyone has any great recipes that are free of eggs, dairy, soy, nuts, watermelon, sweet potatoes, peppers, paprika, and fish, please feel free to share! I am always looking for new ideas for the kiddo.
October 14, 2014
What's Going On Around Here
Well, it’s been six weeks since Cody came home for good to help me with the running of our publishing business. Six weeks, and I would say we’ve finally found a good balance between us.
The first two weeks were a bit tough, as he took a small vacation to “detox” some of his punching-the-time-clock old habits. (I mean, WHY was he still trying to get out of bed at 7a.m. when his precious wife was up until 4 each morning!?! Let the woman sleep, please!)
Glad he got that out of his system!
And it took us a bit longer to get the kiddo accustomed to having Daddy home full time than either of us expected. It was at least a month before she stopped asking if Daddy had to work the next day. But finally she seems to understand that Daddy will be there the next day when she wakes.
Now if I can just get her to stop using Daddy as her personal valet/butler/personal shopper. He even says it himself—“All she has to do is ask!”
Finding a daily balance has taken some adjustment for all of us. And not just the simple things like getting on a similar schedule—he is a definite early worm and I am a classic night owl (as is our daughter).
He’s highly organized and detail-obsessed—uh, I mean oriented!—and I am more creative and scatter-brained. He tends to think linearly and I’m more all over the place. There are definitely some wildly different personality traits in this family. When he was gone fifty hours each week, these differences weren't so noticeable, but now that we are together so much they are taking some real work to make balance!
As for the work going on around here…
We are working out a routine and are starting to separate some of the work between the two of us to free me up some serious writing time, so that I have time to keep up with the current series' and to write some of the new stuff floating around in my head. This will also give us both more time to work with the kiddo on her homeschooling (little booger started subtraction this month!).
I still do all of the writing, of course.
He’s now doing the distribution through all channels. (We’re still working with Kobo to fix the missing books, btw!) His tasks include audiobooks and paperbacks, and finding other places to sell. We may eventually sell direct from the website, especially paperbacks as we can sell them for several dollars less than Amazon! (But that’s a ways away!)Cody is going to be reading the Dardanos series as audiobooks. He’s got a great voice, and I think he’ll end up being a great narrator. He’s hoping to have the Healer’s Heartfinished by the end of this month, so that we can offer it as a free audiobook to those who are interested. J
(For those that haven't read it, Healer's Heart is available as a free short story by clicking HERE!)
I’m planning out the next four Dardanos books (Balance of the Worlds, The Healer's Soul, The Fifth Fate and The Final Darkness), and am writing Loren and Jushua’s story (The Witch) now, for a Dec. 15th release date. Loren was mentioned in Healer’s Heart, Awakening the Demon’s Queen, and in another book, as Jade’s best friend, though you haven't met her yet.
(What Jade didn’t realize was that Loren is a Druid, a follower of the Nellana Druidic Faith—basically she’s a follower of Kennera’s closest friend, and Jushua’s former betrothed, Nelciana! I'm very excited to r.)
For the PAVAD series, I am about to start Kelly’s book, and her younger sister’s novella will be out on Nov. 29th. Kelly's will be called GHOSTING and will deal with the serial killer mentioned in Second Chances when Ally, Cody, and Kelly were on the crime scene.
And the PAVAD prequel that people have been waiting for will be out sometime in January!
(It’s a blurry sample pic and definitely unfinished, but here’s an idea of what to look for!)
2015 will also bring Cody’s book, Mia’s, and possibly Carrie Lorcan’s younger sister Brynna’s. I have a few novellas in that series, as well, but I don’t have definitive dates for those yet.
And I’m working on a new series that will be at least five books long, larger word count than the PAVAD books, and a mix between paranormal and romantic suspense. I’m still working on the details, and will share more later.
All in all, by having Cody at home we are hoping to be able to provide better books on a regular release schedule so that everyone can enjoy reading both the paranormal and the romantic suspense series'.
You’ll see Cody around quite a bit—he’s handling the email account if you have questions or concerns, he’s in charge of the entire website now, and he’s often on facebook and twitter and pinterest.
And please, if you have any questions about the books or any suggestions about our contact sites such as our website or our Facebook or author page on Amazon better and more user-friendly, let us know at callejbrookes@live.com.
September 10, 2014
Roadschooling into the Final Frontier...
Welcome to the third post in my writing and homeschooling series! Today we have a fellow Indiana girl talking about something I find very intriguing, and may just have to talk Mr. Calle J. into trying sometime...roadschooling! (What? You think all homeschoolers hang around the house all day?)
In June of 2013 my family decided to take to the open road, and from that decision to actually doing it took nearly a year. We sold most all of our belongings, bought a 35ft travel trailer and said goodbye to the settled life. That was a little over four months ago. In that time we have had to make a lot of adjustments; or maybe I should say that I have had to make a lot of adjustments as my husband seems to be completely in his element.
One thing that we have had to conform to is a new way of homeschooling or as it is called in traveler circles, roadschooling. To start with I (like every other homeschooler I’m acquainted with) am a book junky. I admit it; I have books in storage that I bought 15 years ago when we started homeschooling our eldest.
So my #1 adjustment was the limited number of books that I could bring. The mental torment that I went through trying to decide what to take and what to leave probably took several years off my life.
#2 Being on the road and moving every couple of months also means no co-ops or acting classes or sports or any other long term activity that you might think of. It’s all me! Now that’s a scary thought for any homeschool mom, as well as her students.
#3 SPACE! And I’m not talking about the Final Frontier. I’m talking about a 35ft trailer containing six people, all trying to find their own private nook. With my husband working from home and all of the children needing taught five days a week we have had to become creative with where we can all work.
Now before I scare anyone off from the traveling life let me draw forth my inner Polly Anna and get positive.
Yes, it is a bit frustrating for a book hoarder like me to be so limited, but it helps me to focus on what really needs taught without being distracted by all the extras that can be learned at a later time. And although I do miss some of the extracurricular activities, I now have more ownership of my time and we have replaced those activities with experiencing different places and people and learning in the real world. The lack of space is a hard one to get used to, but this is the first time in years that my children have spent so much time outdoors. They have become fascinated with caterpillars and pine cones and camp fires. I have seen their imaginations bloom.
All in all the inconveniences are far outweighed by the benefits and I’m glad for this season of roadschooling.
M.A. Foxworthy
You can visit her on her blog and catch up on what life is like on the road! Also, be sure to watch for her first release next month from Astraea Press!
www.amerrybandoftravelers.wordpress.com
In June of 2013 my family decided to take to the open road, and from that decision to actually doing it took nearly a year. We sold most all of our belongings, bought a 35ft travel trailer and said goodbye to the settled life. That was a little over four months ago. In that time we have had to make a lot of adjustments; or maybe I should say that I have had to make a lot of adjustments as my husband seems to be completely in his element.
One thing that we have had to conform to is a new way of homeschooling or as it is called in traveler circles, roadschooling. To start with I (like every other homeschooler I’m acquainted with) am a book junky. I admit it; I have books in storage that I bought 15 years ago when we started homeschooling our eldest.
So my #1 adjustment was the limited number of books that I could bring. The mental torment that I went through trying to decide what to take and what to leave probably took several years off my life.
#2 Being on the road and moving every couple of months also means no co-ops or acting classes or sports or any other long term activity that you might think of. It’s all me! Now that’s a scary thought for any homeschool mom, as well as her students.
#3 SPACE! And I’m not talking about the Final Frontier. I’m talking about a 35ft trailer containing six people, all trying to find their own private nook. With my husband working from home and all of the children needing taught five days a week we have had to become creative with where we can all work.
Now before I scare anyone off from the traveling life let me draw forth my inner Polly Anna and get positive.
Yes, it is a bit frustrating for a book hoarder like me to be so limited, but it helps me to focus on what really needs taught without being distracted by all the extras that can be learned at a later time. And although I do miss some of the extracurricular activities, I now have more ownership of my time and we have replaced those activities with experiencing different places and people and learning in the real world. The lack of space is a hard one to get used to, but this is the first time in years that my children have spent so much time outdoors. They have become fascinated with caterpillars and pine cones and camp fires. I have seen their imaginations bloom.
All in all the inconveniences are far outweighed by the benefits and I’m glad for this season of roadschooling.
M.A. Foxworthy
You can visit her on her blog and catch up on what life is like on the road! Also, be sure to watch for her first release next month from Astraea Press!
www.amerrybandoftravelers.wordpress.com
September 9, 2014
Guest Post: Author Ginger Solomon "Writing vs. Homeschooling"
Welcome to Day Two of my writing and homeschooling series! We have a guest post from an experienced homeschooler (who I greatly admire! We are trying to figure out how to homeschool one!)
Writing Vs. HomeschoolingBy Ginger Solomon
Sometimes, well…let me be honest, a lot of time it’s a struggle to sit my backside in a chair and write. The muse may or may not be there, but the time and quiet definitely are not. At present, I homeschool my youngest four—five really, but the fifth is a senior this year and taking dual-enrollment classes at the local community college. He is self-motivated and doesn’t require much of my supervision anymore. My oldest two are attending college full-time.
If you go back and count, that’s seven. When I was schooling all of them, I was super-organized. Now that a few have graduated, I’m finding myself spending time doing things that really just waste time.
As I sit and consider my day, I find that I spend an inordinate amount of it “checking” Facebook and e-mail. Your time wasters may be different—Pinterest, LinkedIn, Snapchat, or some other social media that pulls you in and won’t let go. Maybe you like a certain TV show or Candy Crush. Either way, they are all time stealers. We get on to check this or that, play one game, or catch up on a story line, and BOOM, thirty minutes or more are gone.
Do I have the answer to my problem? Well, sure. Stay off Facebook.
But in reality, that’s not the core issue. I get on Facebook or check e-mail because I can turn away from them with little to no effect when a child needs my attention. If I’m trying to write or edit and a child sits across the desk from me wanting something, I become frustrated.
So I don’t write.
By the time my husband is home from work and dinner has been fixed, eaten, and cleaned up, I’m too tired to wrap my brain around my story. I just want to sit and read someone else’s hard work. I could lie and say I was doing research, but it wouldn’t be true. I have the ability to read just for enjoyment—rare in writers, I know. I may see grammar mistakes and notice a detail out of place, but I can easily forget those and focus on the movie playing in my head.
So why can’t I play my own movie and type out my own words? I’m not sure.
School started for us several weeks ago, and I’ve yet to work out a good schedule that allows me time to work with my children, time to prepare my blog, and time to write my stories, plus my other responsibilities.
What is my problem? I wish I knew. It’s not like they’re little still. My youngest is ten.
It’s not writer’s block. I have had a good sit down and gotten several thousand words written in a couple-hour session.
Every morning I rise, thinking, Today is the day I’m going to hash out that next scene, but the day gets to its end and nothing has been accomplished in my writing.
Check out Ginger's latest from Astraea Press!So here’s my schedule:· 6:30 – rise (if I’m not already awake), fix hubby’s breakfast and lunch (not negotiable) J· 7:00 – quiet time with God (not negotiable)· 8:30 – out loud reading· 9:00/9:30, depending on the day’s reading — check e-mail, FB, check school work, and answer questions· 11:00 — I’d like this time to exercise, but it rarely happens. I’ve usually spent too much time reading FB or e-mail and am still checking school work.· 11:30 — lunch· 12:30 — kids’ chore time· 1:00 — kids’ reading time· 2:00 — school done for the day, which means I’m free until time to fix dinner. An awesome time to write, but the room where my desk is, is also the room where they play on the computer. It’s loud and distracting, and they think because I’m there, they can chat with me/bug me/ask me all sorts of questions.· 5:00 — fix dinner · 5:30 — eat dinner· 6:00 — feed chickens and collect eggs· 6:30 — depending upon the evening, this is more free time (or church). Another time to write, but see my issue at 2:00.· 8:00 — kids bedtime (yes, all of them)· 10:00 — my bedtime (not negotiable)
Ha! I look back at my schedule and think to myself, Silly girl, move the computer. You have a laptop for a reason.
Why didn’t I think of it before? I don’t know. I have a desk in my room for just that reason. *sigh* Thanks for the help. LOL
Now, it’s your turn. Sit down and write out your schedule. What things can you do to make working-at-home and homeschooling work together? If you’re still struggling, share it with us, and we’d be happy to help.
BIO:
Ginger Solomon is a Christian, a wife, a mother to seven, and a writer—in that order (mostly). When not homeschooling her youngest five, doing laundry or fixing dinner, she writes or reads romance of any genre. She’s a member of American Christian Fiction Writers, president of her local writing group, and writes regularly for two blogs. You can find more about her and her books at www.gingersolomon.com.
September 8, 2014
Our Child has food allergies, should we homeschool?
Our second 'official' homeschooling year started this week! Last year we did a mix of everything until we got our feet wet, and got some sort of an idea of how Spawn learned, and how we taught. This is the first post in a week long series on writing and homeschooling. I'm handling the kick off post, but check back every day this week to hear from some of my writing and homeschooling colleagues who are in the throes of homeschooling while trying to write at the same time!
My Child has food allergies, should we homeschool?
She was nine months old—and as red as an overripe tomato. The diagnosis—food allergies. And A LOT of them. She would always require an epipen, for the food allergies alone, and would require special accommodations at the lunch table. And the food allergies weren’t the extent of it—she also had severe environmental reactions. So…the kid next to her could not use Tide, they could not use any cleanser with lavender in it anywhere she’d be in the building, and she’d have to be extremely cautious on the playground.
These were truths we grappled with when she was still an infant. Truths we were hit with all in the space of fifteen minutes that day!
I had always wanted to homeschool, but was a bit clueless about where to start. And the husband was NOT a proponent of homeschooling. We’d agreed to discuss it in the future. A long way in the future!
Until that day after we left the allergist’s office.
“What are we going to do about school?” I asked as he drove through the city ninety miles from our home.
He looks at me like I was crazy. I was expecting a she’s too young response. Instead I got: “But I thought we were going to homeschool.”
And so it began.
We researched like crazy, decided what best fit our educational beliefs (neither of us had had much of an enjoyable time in public school), and then we sat back and relaxed. She was, after all, less than two…
At seventeen months she surprised us by knowing all of the alphabet. By twenty months she recognized capitol and lowercase, in any order. Colors, counting, parallelograms—all sorts of things followed.
So we revised our plans, thinking we may start a year or so early.
At two she started sounding out the letters.
That’s when we kind of freaked out.
After reading all of the research, we strongly believed in the delaying of academics, but she didn’t.After some more freaking out, googling, and a very frank and reassuring discussion with her pediatrician, we decided to teach her when she wanted to learn, rather than wait according to an arbitrary chart devised by people who did not know our child.
So we decided to do our own version of unschooling. It’s a blend of interest-led, project-based, Waldorf, and…sigh…school-at-home.
We do use a mix of two curricula now—Oak Meadow first grade, and McRuffy Press first grade. I really like the setup of Oak Meadow—for me. I’m more of a weekly ‘to-do’ kind of person. And I like the open ended way that OM works. Kiddo likes the math gnomes and the science.
We use the McRuffy for phonics, math, and…even more science. She is science-obsessed, so we do the Oak Meadow, McRuffy first grade science, Magic School Bus activities…and whatever crops up in daily life.
We do LOTS of science around here.
We combined measurement with a lesson about her pet snail Edmond.
She found him on our front steps June 2013, and he's still sliming strong!
She also really loves geography, so we talk quite a bit about maps, places, continents (she loves Africa), and check google maps frequently. (Last week we looked at my sister’s house and saw a kid in the front yard. I’m pretty sure it was my nephew. She thought that was the greatest thing!)
As she’s gotten older (almost four now) our day has changed. She started homeschool co-op recently, and gets to spend two wonderful hours with other preschoolers. Both my husband and I stay in the room with her because of the epipen, and because we want to help out.
My husband made a major career change last month, as well.
I try to write every single day, five thousand words (approximately 20 pages). And I handle most of the graphic design for my publishing company (Lost River Lit Publishing). And the promo and marketing. It became a full time job about six months ago.
It was cutting into the homeschooling and more importantly—overall family time!
My husband worked five days a week, and was gone eleven hours every day. That was a big chunk of our time together.
Combine him being gone, an extremely precocious high-spirited three year old, and me putting in sixty hour weeks just for the business alone, and it all boiled to a head at the beginning of August.
I needed help—or I was going to end up in a rubber room somewhere. (Alternatively, I imagined locking myself in the dog kennel saying “Leave me alone, the dirty dishes are about to attack!” over and over again.)
I met him at the door with probably the second-biggest shock of our married life. (Give you one guess what the first was!)
“Either you quit your job, or I’m hiring a full-time live-in assistant. Hope you can afford it.”
“Huh?”
What followed was a discussion (several, actually) of the pros and cons of the entire idea. (Of course, I’d run the numbers before he got home that day, so I knew what made the most sense!) And then…the decision was made.
Financially and emotionally, it made sense for him to come home. To be that author assistant that I so desperately needed.
We’ve done it full-time for a week now. Not a great expanse of time by any means, but we are actually able to get things done, for the first time in a long while. And we are both a lot less stressed.
(Although he’s adjusting to the idea of being his own boss!)
Which means more time for homeschooling.
So…we were experiencing a bit of cabin fever Saturday. We packed up the kid (and epipen!), a ziplock baggie, some paper and pencils, and headed to the lake.
Spawn loves, loves, loves McRuffy. She's big into dogs (Freedom is HER Border collie, BTW)
And the McRuffy Illustrations crack her up!We drew pictures of fish, frogs, tree roots, and rocks. We used tape to collect a sand sample, and we took a moss sample. We talked to the naturalist about what forest animals look the most like dogs. And we waded in the lake to get a water sample.
All to look at under the microscope, as part of this week’s science.
This is what I want her childhood to look like.
I don’t want to separate learning from living.
I don’t want to separate her from us when she’s of legal school age. I don’t want to shuffle her off to the public school two blocks away for 30 hours each week, while both Mommy and Daddy stay home to work.
I’d feel deprived, actually. I’d miss her too much. Daddy would, too.
Keeping her home I don’t have to worry about a kid eating a peanut butter sandwich while sitting next to her. Or milk, eggs, soy, sweet potatoes, or even watermelon! I don’t have to worry about an epipen locked in the nurse’s office when she gets stung by a bee—when the nurse wasn’t in the building.
I don’t have to deal with a sleepy antihistamine-pumped kid who likes to sleep in having to get up early to go to school.
I don’t have to worry about an immune-compromised kid picking up every bug, being sick for days, and missing day after day because she has a fever almost every afternoon!
I don’t have to worry about her going through what her daddy did when he was bullied for liking music as a kid. I don’t have to worry about her skipping more school than she attended like I did, simply because of boredom.
I don’t have to worry about her being like a lot of other very bright little girls who learn to hide their intelligence to fit in.
I don’t have to worry about her learning being stifled or reduced to rote worksheetisms because she’ll have her parents around to tailor the early education to her interests.
I don’t have to miss out on my kid’s discoveries and my husband gets to watch her grow up the way I have the last three years.
She gets to sit between us at her little plastic desk while we all work on projects. While she sees her parents working toward goals, taking initiative, and finding creative solutions. She’ll see how real men treat their families, and how real women respect and love their partners.
She gets to see her parents working together to build something important to them—and gets to see how real, honest people who love each other interact every day.
I can’t ever express how blessed I am to have this opportunity.
And in a weird way, the food allergies made this possible. That day I quit my job to stay with her because we couldn’t put her in daycare, I was terrified. And worried, and overwhelmed.
Now…
Now I am blessed.
To find out more about what we use with "Spawn" follow the links below!
www.oakmeadow.com www.mcruffy.com
My Child has food allergies, should we homeschool?
She was nine months old—and as red as an overripe tomato. The diagnosis—food allergies. And A LOT of them. She would always require an epipen, for the food allergies alone, and would require special accommodations at the lunch table. And the food allergies weren’t the extent of it—she also had severe environmental reactions. So…the kid next to her could not use Tide, they could not use any cleanser with lavender in it anywhere she’d be in the building, and she’d have to be extremely cautious on the playground.
These were truths we grappled with when she was still an infant. Truths we were hit with all in the space of fifteen minutes that day!
I had always wanted to homeschool, but was a bit clueless about where to start. And the husband was NOT a proponent of homeschooling. We’d agreed to discuss it in the future. A long way in the future!
Until that day after we left the allergist’s office.
“What are we going to do about school?” I asked as he drove through the city ninety miles from our home.
He looks at me like I was crazy. I was expecting a she’s too young response. Instead I got: “But I thought we were going to homeschool.”
And so it began.
We researched like crazy, decided what best fit our educational beliefs (neither of us had had much of an enjoyable time in public school), and then we sat back and relaxed. She was, after all, less than two…
At seventeen months she surprised us by knowing all of the alphabet. By twenty months she recognized capitol and lowercase, in any order. Colors, counting, parallelograms—all sorts of things followed.
So we revised our plans, thinking we may start a year or so early.
At two she started sounding out the letters.
That’s when we kind of freaked out.
After reading all of the research, we strongly believed in the delaying of academics, but she didn’t.After some more freaking out, googling, and a very frank and reassuring discussion with her pediatrician, we decided to teach her when she wanted to learn, rather than wait according to an arbitrary chart devised by people who did not know our child.
So we decided to do our own version of unschooling. It’s a blend of interest-led, project-based, Waldorf, and…sigh…school-at-home.
We do use a mix of two curricula now—Oak Meadow first grade, and McRuffy Press first grade. I really like the setup of Oak Meadow—for me. I’m more of a weekly ‘to-do’ kind of person. And I like the open ended way that OM works. Kiddo likes the math gnomes and the science.
We use the McRuffy for phonics, math, and…even more science. She is science-obsessed, so we do the Oak Meadow, McRuffy first grade science, Magic School Bus activities…and whatever crops up in daily life.
We do LOTS of science around here.
We combined measurement with a lesson about her pet snail Edmond.She found him on our front steps June 2013, and he's still sliming strong!
She also really loves geography, so we talk quite a bit about maps, places, continents (she loves Africa), and check google maps frequently. (Last week we looked at my sister’s house and saw a kid in the front yard. I’m pretty sure it was my nephew. She thought that was the greatest thing!)
As she’s gotten older (almost four now) our day has changed. She started homeschool co-op recently, and gets to spend two wonderful hours with other preschoolers. Both my husband and I stay in the room with her because of the epipen, and because we want to help out.
My husband made a major career change last month, as well.
I try to write every single day, five thousand words (approximately 20 pages). And I handle most of the graphic design for my publishing company (Lost River Lit Publishing). And the promo and marketing. It became a full time job about six months ago.
It was cutting into the homeschooling and more importantly—overall family time!
My husband worked five days a week, and was gone eleven hours every day. That was a big chunk of our time together.
Combine him being gone, an extremely precocious high-spirited three year old, and me putting in sixty hour weeks just for the business alone, and it all boiled to a head at the beginning of August.
I needed help—or I was going to end up in a rubber room somewhere. (Alternatively, I imagined locking myself in the dog kennel saying “Leave me alone, the dirty dishes are about to attack!” over and over again.)
I met him at the door with probably the second-biggest shock of our married life. (Give you one guess what the first was!)
“Either you quit your job, or I’m hiring a full-time live-in assistant. Hope you can afford it.”
“Huh?”
What followed was a discussion (several, actually) of the pros and cons of the entire idea. (Of course, I’d run the numbers before he got home that day, so I knew what made the most sense!) And then…the decision was made.
Financially and emotionally, it made sense for him to come home. To be that author assistant that I so desperately needed.
We’ve done it full-time for a week now. Not a great expanse of time by any means, but we are actually able to get things done, for the first time in a long while. And we are both a lot less stressed.
(Although he’s adjusting to the idea of being his own boss!)
Which means more time for homeschooling.
So…we were experiencing a bit of cabin fever Saturday. We packed up the kid (and epipen!), a ziplock baggie, some paper and pencils, and headed to the lake.
Spawn loves, loves, loves McRuffy. She's big into dogs (Freedom is HER Border collie, BTW)And the McRuffy Illustrations crack her up!We drew pictures of fish, frogs, tree roots, and rocks. We used tape to collect a sand sample, and we took a moss sample. We talked to the naturalist about what forest animals look the most like dogs. And we waded in the lake to get a water sample.
All to look at under the microscope, as part of this week’s science.
This is what I want her childhood to look like.
I don’t want to separate learning from living.
I don’t want to separate her from us when she’s of legal school age. I don’t want to shuffle her off to the public school two blocks away for 30 hours each week, while both Mommy and Daddy stay home to work.
I’d feel deprived, actually. I’d miss her too much. Daddy would, too.
Keeping her home I don’t have to worry about a kid eating a peanut butter sandwich while sitting next to her. Or milk, eggs, soy, sweet potatoes, or even watermelon! I don’t have to worry about an epipen locked in the nurse’s office when she gets stung by a bee—when the nurse wasn’t in the building.
I don’t have to deal with a sleepy antihistamine-pumped kid who likes to sleep in having to get up early to go to school.
I don’t have to worry about an immune-compromised kid picking up every bug, being sick for days, and missing day after day because she has a fever almost every afternoon!
I don’t have to worry about her going through what her daddy did when he was bullied for liking music as a kid. I don’t have to worry about her skipping more school than she attended like I did, simply because of boredom.
I don’t have to worry about her being like a lot of other very bright little girls who learn to hide their intelligence to fit in.
I don’t have to worry about her learning being stifled or reduced to rote worksheetisms because she’ll have her parents around to tailor the early education to her interests.
I don’t have to miss out on my kid’s discoveries and my husband gets to watch her grow up the way I have the last three years.
She gets to sit between us at her little plastic desk while we all work on projects. While she sees her parents working toward goals, taking initiative, and finding creative solutions. She’ll see how real men treat their families, and how real women respect and love their partners.
She gets to see her parents working together to build something important to them—and gets to see how real, honest people who love each other interact every day.
I can’t ever express how blessed I am to have this opportunity.
And in a weird way, the food allergies made this possible. That day I quit my job to stay with her because we couldn’t put her in daycare, I was terrified. And worried, and overwhelmed.
Now…
Now I am blessed.
To find out more about what we use with "Spawn" follow the links below!
www.oakmeadow.com www.mcruffy.com
August 31, 2014
Wow.
It has been 13 months since I posted on this blog thingie here. But...
I hope to fix that. I miss blogging, but time has gotten away from me. I write every single day, around 5000 words or more (20+ pages). I homeschool my daughter, a smart little cookie who still thinks she's a werewolf. And I try to keep up with marketing and the business side of self-publishing.
These things combined take almost fifty hours a week.
(We won't even mention the housekeeping that I don't keep up with...)
But I miss blogging. I started the PAVAD series, and posted Dan's story online back in 2009. I posted all of Wolf God & His Mate online while writing it way back when, too.
But things around here are changing, and they've changed very quickly.
A month and a half ago, Mr. Calle J. and I had a major talk and major reevaluation of our life/goals. And we came to an epic decision (for us.)
Our daughter had just finished a kindergarten homeschool curriculum and was rapidly going through the beginning of the first grade one. She's still preschool aged, so this was a bit um...overwhelming...
Mr. Calle J. was gone fifty-five hours a week. We bought a rental house that needs some serious remodeling. Our own home needs updating.
And we weren't spending any time together. When he was home, I was scrambling to get the things done that I needed to do in order to meet my deadlines, and keep up with my other responsibilities.
So...we came to a decision--I was going to either have to hire someone to help out around the house (we don't do daycare for our daughter because of her food allergies), OR he was going to have to come home and help me.
After some discussion and some OMG! moments, we decided that rather than have that expense, and with the type of things I was needing help with, it was more financially sound for him to quit his job and build a new career as a virtual author assistant.
I would be his first client.
So...as of Friday Aug 29th, six weeks after our talk, he is a self-employed man. And I have my VAA to help out.
So...one thing I am looking forward to getting back into is blogging. :)
Another is sewing. And photography. And actually reading some of that TBR list. I think I'm going to start with some of Robyn Carr's books.
And maybe...maybe if I am REALLY lucky...
Mr. Calle J. will take over ALL of the housework! (Seriously, I'll settle for splitting it fifty/fifty! As long as he gives me a few good kisses now and then! <3 )
I hope to fix that. I miss blogging, but time has gotten away from me. I write every single day, around 5000 words or more (20+ pages). I homeschool my daughter, a smart little cookie who still thinks she's a werewolf. And I try to keep up with marketing and the business side of self-publishing.
These things combined take almost fifty hours a week.
(We won't even mention the housekeeping that I don't keep up with...)
But I miss blogging. I started the PAVAD series, and posted Dan's story online back in 2009. I posted all of Wolf God & His Mate online while writing it way back when, too.
But things around here are changing, and they've changed very quickly.
A month and a half ago, Mr. Calle J. and I had a major talk and major reevaluation of our life/goals. And we came to an epic decision (for us.)
Our daughter had just finished a kindergarten homeschool curriculum and was rapidly going through the beginning of the first grade one. She's still preschool aged, so this was a bit um...overwhelming...
Mr. Calle J. was gone fifty-five hours a week. We bought a rental house that needs some serious remodeling. Our own home needs updating.
And we weren't spending any time together. When he was home, I was scrambling to get the things done that I needed to do in order to meet my deadlines, and keep up with my other responsibilities.
So...we came to a decision--I was going to either have to hire someone to help out around the house (we don't do daycare for our daughter because of her food allergies), OR he was going to have to come home and help me.
After some discussion and some OMG! moments, we decided that rather than have that expense, and with the type of things I was needing help with, it was more financially sound for him to quit his job and build a new career as a virtual author assistant.
I would be his first client.
So...as of Friday Aug 29th, six weeks after our talk, he is a self-employed man. And I have my VAA to help out.
So...one thing I am looking forward to getting back into is blogging. :)
Another is sewing. And photography. And actually reading some of that TBR list. I think I'm going to start with some of Robyn Carr's books.
And maybe...maybe if I am REALLY lucky...
Mr. Calle J. will take over ALL of the housework! (Seriously, I'll settle for splitting it fifty/fifty! As long as he gives me a few good kisses now and then! <3 )
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