Lynette Endicott's Blog, page 13
February 6, 2013
Calico Cat is animal helper
Excerpt from Animal Instinct, the first of the Time After Time Saga with Tami Dee
The fascination of his touch, the warm, sweet taste of their wine on his lips, the way she was drawn to kiss him. Her lips pulled into a soft smile. She had only resisted the urge about one time in ten. When she had given in and initiated a kiss he had been right there with her, immediately on the same page, immediately understanding the pace she wanted, the, for now, very gentle give and take.
She had never been so drawn to a man.
Her eyes flew open. “The diary,” she whispered. “It is time to read the diary.”
Slainte’ meowed her approval, rubbing up against her legs before darting to the hallway. The feline beat her to the hallway bookshelf, almost, Allison thought with a small laugh, as if she was leading her to the book.
Her great-grandmother had told her she could read it any time, yet she never had.
“My sweet child, listen closely,” she had instructed. “Someday you will meet a man who is different from all the others, a man who sets your heart to racing, your hands to trembling, and your mind to thinking about forever.” Her aged sky blue eyes had gone dreamy, a soft smile had played around her lips. “He’ll be — irresistible.”
Her expression, as she had once again focused on Allison, had turned serious and she had brushed a thin hand over Allison’s hair. “This may be hard for you to understand right now, child, but sometimes things can go wrong in love, even when the person you love loves you back. If–” she had chuckled, then amended. “When that happens, this diary will guide you. Offer you strategies to help you overcome those obstacles and hold on to that love.”
She had frowned a bit, seeming to gather her thoughts. “The words in this book will prove to be… enlightening.” Her gaze had turned knowing and wise as she had taken hold of both Allison’s hands. “True love overcomes all obstacles. It’s as powerful as magic, Allison. You can be very happy, my dear. Believe it with everything you are when things get hard.” She had squeezed Allison’s hands. “Trust in love, trust in your man, and trust in yourself.” She had nodded her silver head, her lips pressed together in conviction. “You’ll see.”
Allison swallowed past the tears in her throat.
It was time to read the diary.
Slainte’ leaped up and began to pace the wide shelf right next to the diary. Al pulled it from the shelf, opened it to the center section. There the writing was confined to the lower two-thirds of the journal. The upper third had been cut to divide it from the bottom section of pages, then the top glued together and a secret hiding place carved out of those pages. In the opening lay her great-grandmother’s broach, a gift she had received along with the diary.
Allison took the book and broach into her bedroom and again sat on the side of her bed.
She rubbed her tired eyes and frowned up at the over bright ceiling light before getting up and switching it off. She had to laugh at herself for her backwards approach to such a simple task as she groped for the bedside reading lamp, at last finding the small knob and turning it on.
Her hands shook as she took the broach out and held it for the first time in years. It was silver, with a Celtic knot design around the outside edge and a carved ivory cat in the center, with an amethyst eye and a circle of the purple stones surrounding it. With a little polish it would sparkle as brightly as it had when she received it.
Under the broach was a separate note, folded in quarters. She set the broach on the bedside table, then unfolded the brittle paper and read the words penned by her great-grandmother more than sixty years before, when she was not much older than Allison.
There is strong, good magic in this broach. Magic that, combined with the Heartmark, will help you to find a love so true and strong it will last a lifetime. This love will be so deep, so profound, your daughters, and their daughters, and their daughters, will know of your love for him. It will be imprinted in their very cells, resting peacefully in the recesses of their minds, just as your ancestresses’ loves rest within your own mind. You will know when you’ve met the one man for you. Your heart will recognize him the moment you meet.
A tear splashed the paper and Allison swiped her eyes.
Sean.
Could she believe what her heart was telling her — that he was different from the other men she’d met, that even in that first moment of looking into his worried face at her office, she had seen deep into the future that she could have with him.
She blinked to clear her vision and continued to read. Slainte’ purred at her side, her big eyes watching her, seeming to understand the emotional impact her great-grandmother’s words were having on Allison.
“Wear the broach,” she read. ” Be forewarned, child, by doing so, you will draw your enemy out. But, it will also give you the knowledge and power to defeat her.”
The fine hairs on Allison’s arms stood on end and her heart pounded behind her breast. Meredith’s face swam through her mind’s eye and she shuddered.
She would wear it tomorrow. Al went to her drawers and located a scarf with purple highlights, and the skirt and shirt that would go with it, to wear for her dates with Sean.
Dates. She was dating this amazing man. It was official.
Download Animal Instinct for more of this time after time saga.
February 5, 2013
Yellow Lab, Therapy Dog is Key Character
Excerpt from The Return of Joy
When Charity dropped to the floor next to Atlas and showed him one of the books, Mark laughed out loud.
“What’s so funny?”
“She’s reading to the dog,” he pointed out.
“She’s been doing that for a couple of weeks, Mark.” So proud of both the girl and the dog she could hardly stand it, Joy grinned. “Josie has a therapy dog who listens to kids read at a local library. She helped us make sure Atlas could do the same.” Joy pulled a paper out of the pile of presents on the table. “Atlas passed his test. All we need is your permission to send everything in, and he can be an official therapy dog, too.”
Looking confused, Mark scratched his head. “A therapy dog? He’s just… you know, a family dog.”
Joy smiled and stepped closer to Mark. She patted his chest.
“I know he is your dog. That’s why we won’t pursue this if you don’t want to.” She turned and slid an arm around his waist. “But look at them. They’re so happy reading together.”
Mark looked, shaking his head. “He’s just lying there. He isn’t even looking at the pictures.”
“That’s what Charity said the first time. Then Josie explained he likes to listen to her tell the story. Charity can’t actually read yet, of course, but she’s learning to share, to decipher from the pictures, and turn the pages. You should see Josie’s dog, Zoey, at the library, surrounded by children from toddlers through about second grade. They all crowd around and pet her, and take turns reading to her.”
“So if you send in Atlas’ paperwork and he becomes a therapy dog, what does that mean, exactly?”
“It means I can volunteer with him at a local school or library, where kids will do just what Charity’s doing now. Read out loud to the dog.”
“And they don’t realize he doesn’t understand?”
“Nope.” Joy chuckled. “You should have seen Atlas at his reading test. One little boy read a book about Little Pig Piglet, who couldn’t sleep. At the end of the story when he read that Little Pig Piglet finally fell asleep, Atlas flopped over on his side on top of the book as if he was falling asleep, too. So of course he must understand. He doesn’t really, of course, but the children are so excited about being the ones to read out loud, and the dogs are so non-judgmental, that they get better and better at reading when they read to a dog. And the dogs never correct them, I might add.”
Mark seemed skeptical.
“I guess you have to see it to understand.” She looked up into his eyes. “Josie had one boy who came in with his grandpa and told us he couldn’t read but would it be okay if he petted the dog? Josie said sure, of course, and he knelt down beside Zoey and began to talk to her, saying ‘Good dog. You’re a good dog.’ When we looked up at Grandpa he had tears in his eyes. I asked him if he was okay and he nodded and told us it was the first time his grandson had spoken in months – that he has autism and has difficulty talking to people. But not to the dog!”
Download The Return of Joy today. You may also want to read Book One in the Starting Over Series, More Than a Job.
February 4, 2013
Pets part of starting over
Excerpt, Starting Over Book One, More Than a Job
The computer whirred through its boot-up and opened to her email. Today was Friday. Had it only been a week since she’d walked away from her work life? She scanned the notes that had come in from friends and former co-workers who had just learned about the layoff. Her hands trembled, and she fought back tears. She couldn’t read them all. Not yet. It was too hard.
Paige closed the laptop and pushed away from the desk. She’d give herself a little more time. She grabbed a jacket and gloves and went out into the garden to tend her fall mums. Besides, she needed to bring in some wood. A storm was coming in, probably rain, but maybe snow. A fire would take the chill off the house.
She heard them before she saw them. Tiny squeaks filling the air as she wheeled the wheelbarrow to the woodpile. She got down on her hands and knees and peered around and behind the stacked wood until she spotted the source of the noise. Four little kittens nuzzled a black cat, nesting in a pile of leaves between the woodpile and the fence.
The mama cat looked up at Paige then looked away, apparently uninterested and not particularly frightened. Paige took her firewood back to the house. She parked the load inside the screened back porch, thinking about the coming storm and the vulnerable little family. Well, she didn’t have to leave them to the elements. She rummaged through the garden shed and came up with a tarp. At least she could give them some shelter if rain did come. She fastened the covering to the fence, anchored it in the woodpile, and let it drop to the ground behind the felines to give them shelter on three sides.
Then she propped the screen door to her back porch open about six inches and put water and a few food scraps on her back step. She took an old blanket 
and molded it into a nest up close to the house, out of the wind she was sure was on its way.
She met her neighbor at the curb when she went out to bring her empty trash container back behind the fence.
“Hey, Linda. How’s your life today?”
Linda was about the age Paige’s mother would have been if she’d lived. Not quite fifty, she worked at an accounting firm downtown. Her husband was older, semi-retired, and ran a tax business out of their home when he wasn’t polishing his Corvette or riding his Harley. Linda knew the neighborhood. She’d know about the cat, if it belonged to someone.
Linda’s ready smile was accompanied by a shrug. “Can’t complain. It’s busy here and at work — end of the quarter, you know. But busy pays the bills.”
Paige cringed. She’d need to be busy and paying bills before too long. “Got a question for you. Have you heard the little family just on the other side of your fence, against my woodpile?”
“Family of what? Not rodents, I hope. I can’t stand mice, and rats scare me to death.”
Paige laughed. “No, no. Sorry — didn’t mean to worry you. Just the opposite, in fact. The arch enemy of all rodents.”
“Cats?” Linda faced her now, obviously interested.
“A black mama and four little ones,” Paige confirmed.
“Is she all black?”
“As far as I could see. She doesn’t seem wild. I wondered if you might know who she belongs to.” Paige glanced at the sky. No blue — just the heavy gray of clouds, probably holding a lot of moisture. “I’m a little worried about her. I think we’re going to get a storm.”
Linda’s gaze followed hers, and she nodded. “I think you’re right. I can feel the moisture in the air. With the cloud cover we may get lucky — it might stay warm enough to rain rather than snow. But it could go either way. Why don’t you show me your little family?”
Paige let Linda in through the gate and gestured behind the woodpile. One lone kitten mewed for its mother as it rooted around the otherwise empty little nest.
“You must have scared the mother when you came for wood,” Linda, the all-knowing cat lover, said. “Either scared her, or she knows the storm’s coming and she’s looking for better shelter. Wait. She’s moving them.” She gestured for Paige to move back, took a few steps back herself, and dropped her voice to a whisper. “She’ll be back for this one in a minute if we don’t disturb her. Let’s see where she goes.”
They didn’t have to wait long. The black cat, a little thin but proud and beautiful, trotted back from around the corner in Paige’s yard. She took the last kitten into her mouth, holding it firmly by the scruff of its neck, and trotted out of sight. Paige and Linda peered around the corner to see where she went.
“Looks like you’ve inherited some cats,” Linda observed, waving toward the animal depositing the last of her little ones into the blanket beside Paige’s back step. Then the mama cat settled herself into the folds beside them.
“How about that? I put it out a few minutes ago, but I was worried about how to coax her to use it. I guess she found her way without any coaxing on my part.”
“I’m pretty sure mama cat belongs to Tom and Judy, across the street. We’ll have to let them know.”
Paige was thoughtful. “Do you think that maybe, when they’re weaned, they’d let me keep one? I like the little brownish colored one.”
“It’s a tortoise-shell, or a tortie. They can be a little temperamental. You want two, not just one. Two cats will entertain each other.”
“Makes sense.” How weird. Paige had put pets on her list and now here they were, on her doorstep. “Which house is Tom and Judy’s again? I’ll let them know their cat’s okay.”
Download More Than a Job today. You may also want to read Book Two in the Starting Over Series, The Return of Joy.
February 3, 2013
Does a dog mourn – and help us when we mourn?
Excerpt from Starting Over Book Three: 
Finding Her Voice, Coming in July
She still didn’t understand. But the comfort of talking to another parent who shared her struggles — a pastor’s wife who struggled to understand God’s will, too — was a tangible thing. She would sleep better tonight.
But not yet. She and Ollie could stay up a little longer.
There was something she needed to do first.
Ollie shook off the flakes and she hung up their outerwear to dry. The van was cozy with its little heater running. She rubbed her hands together to get the blood flowing. Then she sat down at the computer.
Jen took a deep breath and typed the words “parent” “grief” and “group” into her search engine. She scrolled through and then picked out a link at random.
It opened to a somber light blue page with the words “You are not alone” as a headline across the page. Until Beth came to her door she had not really been sure about that. She clicked “join” and typed in her email and a little about herself.
She couldn’t bring herself to click into any of the on-line forums. Not tonight. The list of titles overwhelmed her. Angry. Can’t stop crying. No one understands. Memories. How do I graduate from days in bed? Cry your heart out. Don’t judge. One day at a time. Hand in hand. Numb. When numbness wears off. Hugs.
Each one echoed in her mind. There really were people who knew what she was going through.
She couldn’t chat right now. But she could introduce herself.
Jen. Lost daughter Trudy on March 18 of this year. She would have been six today.
She pressed send, shut down the monitor and crawled into bed, where Ollie jumped up beside her.
Not for the first time, she wondered how he grieved. Sometimes she would look up and find him curled up with that raggedy bear. Sometimes he looked so sad, and other times watchful as if he still hoped…
“And I uprooted you from everything familiar, didn’t I pup? I’m sorry.” She patted him, then scrunched him close, right under her chin. He struggled a little and turned so he was facing the door. Still watching out for her, even though no one would come out into the storm to hurt her. Should she have stayed home?
No, that didn’t feel right. Nate uprooted them from that home, anyway, by insisting they sell. She and Ollie would have been homeless either way.
“Well, boy, I think right now I’ll make a home with you. Wherever we go. Because I know you are grieving, too. I can’t be sure if anyone else is with me in this journey — but I know you are.”
February 2, 2013
Publisher reveals interactive site
Go to www.desertbreezepublishing.com You will like what you see!
There are many ways to interact with authors. For me these include Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, this site, and NOW my publisher.
You can review books, read about authors, and “Shoot the Breeze” by engaging with authors in a posted thred.
Stop in and check it out, and be sure to leave a comment, here or there, about what you think.
January 31, 2013
A blog about writing romance or about animals or what?
It is a fair question. In answer, let me tell you a story.
After a fairly significant event that interrupted my career, I was working from home, deciding what to do with myself, and I decided to get back to my writing. I joined an on-line critique group, set aside writing time, researched articles where I could write short stories, joined the Romance Writers of America…all the things a serious romance writer should do.
During this time I learned the delight of being home with my teenage daughter. I had worked outside the home herwhole life, but now we had that precious time immediately after school when her day tumbled out as we drove home.
She’s the one who heard the kittens in the woodpile. A feral cat had a litter and they were as cute as they could be, especially when they began chasing each other around our back yard, tumbling and hissing and occasionally falling into the pool, but we were always there to fish them out. My daughter picked one of them up and asked, predictably, if she could keep it. I answered, predictably, no, her father didn’t like cats. Then she asked the question that changed our lives.
“Why do we let him decide?”
Why, indeed. Long story short, we adopted two kittens, and later another came into our lives to be rescued. We rescued a dog a few years later, and then a cockatiel showed up on our back porch.
I’d never owned a pet before, not one of my own. A few animals found their way through our lives as I was growing up, but none were mine and most had pretty sad stories, didn’t turn out well.
After I turned 50 my daughter’s spunk turned that all around and I am absolutely in love with all my animals. Now I can’t imagine life without them. Art imitates life, so my characters include animals. That is why Paige adopts two kittens found in her backyard in More Than a Job, Mark’s yellow lab, Atlas, becomes a therapy dog and reading tutor in The Return of Joy and a calico cat and a German shepherd are animal helpers in Animal Instinct, because all the heroes and heroines in our Time After Time Saga have animal helpers.
In a few weeks you will meet another calico cat and a cockatiel in Survival Instinct. In Finding Her Voice, Starting Over Book Three, Ollie (the terrier mix above) accompanies Jen as she takes a journey across the country to figure out how to rebuild her life. This fall you will meet two more animal helpers, a horse and a barn cat, in Pioneer Instinct. So as the marketing professional calls it, in developing the “brand” of Author Lynette Endicott, animals will always play a part. I enjoy bringing animals in with guest authors, too.
Check out all the books that are available at my Amazon author page.
There is a page for each of the books mentioned in the menu at the top of this page. Hope you will browse through to see what is coming soon.
January 27, 2013
How a book feels
Captain James T. Kirk loved paper books. Even though by his time they were outdated, he collected them. They were a most treasured gift on his birthday. He didn’t think electronic books were the same. They didn’t feel like real books feel. Captain Jean Luc Piccard felt much the same way. And in their day there were still paper books to be had — in the antique stores.
In 2011, about the time I sold my first book, I learned that Amazon sales of electronic books surpassed paper books for the first time. In some ways we have already surpassed the science that the first Star Trek series imagined in the 1960s. Our communication devices are smaller. But our medical diagnostics are bigger so the technology vision is inconsistent with the actual. The Transporter remains elusive — too bad, since it is one of the two science fiction time management tools that I wish I could use. (The other is the Tesseract envisioned by Madeline L’Engle in A Wrinkle in Time.)
Today we often see people with their E-readers. But we still see paper books as well. Here are some of the reasons I prefer electronic books:
When I travel I can take dozens of books with me and not add to the weight of what I am carrying. If I read everything I have with me, I can read more with a one-click download.
Some of the reading devices feel a lot like a book.
I have both a Kindle and an iPad. The Kindle is lighter in weight and easier to hold. As arthritis has set into my hands, especially my thumbs, I find it is much easier to hold a Kindle than a book of any size. No matter how many words the book has, it will fit in your E-reader.
E-readers make large print as easy as a setting. If you don’t want to wear reading glasses, don’t! You can just enlarge the type.
EBooks are very accessible to people who are blind. One friend tells me that the Nook ap with downloaded books is a “game changer” because it is so easy to access the audio book from the downloaded book. This gives a much wider selection to people with disabilities.
How about you? What kind of books do you prefer?
All my books are available on Kindle, Nook or from my publisher in eBook formats. Stop by my author pages at Desert Breeze and Amazon and download your next good read.
January 25, 2013
Why do I read?
I don’t remember a time without books. They were a part of my day, every day, stretching back into memory. In this photo I am reading to my brother, two years younger than me. Since he looks about two in this photo, I was reading this to him before I started school — probably as a four-year old. I don’t know if I was telling the actual story from words, or had memorized it, or was guessing from the photos, but the important thing is that at a very young age I understood that there were exciting stories in books, and that reading unlocked those stories for us.
Once school started we had assignments – to read a new book every day. I continually worked my way through the libraries at home and at school, and of course at our public library where we proudly held our own library cards as soon as we were old enough to write our names. I remember many times when I was engrossed in a book and my parents had to get my attention to come eat supper, because I didn’t hear anything while I was reading a story.
I could only do that because my parents read to me. Reading before bed was a frequent ritual even after we were readers. Mom would choose something
above our reading level and continually challenge us with that content. Some of these were Bible stories, some were Reader’s Digest Condensed Books, which were a great way for kids to hear classics before we were ready for the full dose.
When we were ready for the full dose, the classic books were already old friends.
My family treasured books. I remember my first hardback books — Yertle the Turtle and Little Women. We didn’t have a lot of money, but we always found ways to have lots of books, of all different genres, on our shelves in the living room, the bedrooms, the family rooms.
We did have television, even though these vintage photos don’t make that obvious. We enjoyed a few shows. But mostly our imagination was stoked by what we read. And we never stopped reading. My brother has a memory that lets him remember everything he has ever read. I don’t have that same memory, so I even re-read my favorites from time to time.
I copied this same technique with my own daughter, who is also an avid reader in adulthood.
January 24, 2013
What Readers Say
Reviews – Down & Out by Marcy G DyerFrom the Amazon page for this new book release:
5.0 out of 5 stars Great action mild Romance, January 4, 2013 By Janice Herrera This book is fast moving with good action. I couldn’t put it down. I will buy other books by this author.
5.0 out of 5 stars Loved it!, January 4, 2013 By Laressa Talavera Fast paced and a good read. Could not put It down Can not wait to read more from this author.
4.0 out of 5 stars Enjoyed reading this book, January 4, 2013 By Janice Fitts A fast-paced mystery. It was suspenseful and clean! A wonderful start to a successful career! Good luck and will be waiting your next book!
5.0 out of 5 stars Good, real writing, January 18, 2013 By Brandon Dyer’s writing is real, to the point, and inspirational. Very good story, too. Can’t wait to read her next one.
5.0 out of 5 stars Down & Out, January 17, 2013 By lindach Love this book. You don’t want to put it down. It’s spell binding. Love the story line and the references in this book. Couldn’t wait to see what happened next. Easy to read and understand. Can’t wait for the next book by Marcy Dyer.
5.0 out of 5 stars Down and Out is Up and Coming, January 17, 2013 By Morris Leach
This has been a great read. The plot, action, and suspense just grabs and holds you. After reading this first book from this author I believe that we will see many more great books from her. It is refreshing that you don’t have to wade through verbal dung to get to the story, like you do with so many authors today. Keep up the good work Marcy Dyer. I’m looking forward to your next book!.
5.0 out of 5 stars Down & Out, January 13, 2013 By proudgrammy This book was extremely good and held my interest all the way through until the end. I am eagerly awaiting the next book by this author.
5.0 out of 5 stars Desert Winds Book One: Down and Out, January 12, 2013 By Heather Escobedo I thoroughly enjoyed this book. It is a real page turner. There are chills, thrills, laughter, and romance. Never a dull moment. I stayed up all night to finish it.
5.0 out of 5 stars want more!, January 9, 2013 By Cathy B
I downloaded it today & could not put it down. When I had to surrender the computer to my husband I finished it on my phone. Very easy read – not full of 6 page sex scene fillers. Characters that were “real” and believable. Loved the local flavor added in – they really are the best hamburgers around in Odessa. I want the next one released SOONER!!!!!!!
Download Down & Out from Amazon with one click!
January 23, 2013
New book features smart dog
Border collie knows best…I love dogs, so I asked Marcy G Dyer to share her dog and an excerpt from her book, Down and Out. Marcy says, “There is a tri-color Border collie in the book, based on my Border that I had for 15 years. The dog in the book is named Yogi and mine was Scooby, but the personality and the appearance are the same.”
Excerpt:
She glanced at the dog. “You didn’t send me flowers, did you?”
The black dog had a white scruff and red and white face. He cocked his head to one side and looked at her. She’d always thought Border collies were supposed to be black and white. Curiosity up, she opened her notebook computer. She pulled up the website for the American Border Collie Association and found that the dogs came in all colors. Even a multi-colored coat called “merle.”
She glanced at Yogi. He looked like one of the dogs on the website called a tri-color. He stared back at her. “What is it, boy?”
He half-barked and half-growled. Great. The dog hated her. “It’s okay.”
Yogi made the same sound again, and Candace eased up from the chair and started to move away from him. He ran to one side, and when she moved in the other direction he ran to that side. Once again, he growl-barked.
When she didn’t show up for work tonight, maybe Beth Anne would send someone to find her decaying body.
Yogi continued to move side to side to keep her from leaving the room. Candace’s heart thudded against her chest. She grabbed a pillow off the sofa and wrapped it around her arm then put that arm forward and eased toward the kitchen. Yogi cocked his head to the side and looked at her like she was lunch, but he didn’t lunge at her.
When she reached the tiny galley kitchen, she realized her mistake. No way out. The dog blocked the entrance to the kitchen.
Candace continued to back up until she came to the wall. With her back against the wall, the dog, tail tucked, ran toward her. “God, save me,” she muttered.
Yogi cocked his head to the side and lunged. At least that’s what she thought he was about to do, until he planted his paws in the midst of her chest and nipped at her arm. He didn’t bite, but gently nudged at her with his teeth.
“You aren’t going to eat me, are you?”
Yogi’s tail wagged so hard his entire backside wiggled, and he growl-barked again. Candace slid to the floor. She should have known Ric wouldn’t leave a man-eating canine with her.
Yogi pounced the second her bottom hit the floor. He climbed all over her and gave her lots of puppy kisses. Had his tail been wagging when she thought he was going to eat her?
She laughed and headed for bed. Would she ever get used to sleeping during the day?
I can see this scene — and I love it when a dog is a character in a book. Download Down and Out now and read more!
Publisher’s buy site: Desert Breeze Publishing
Amazon Author site
