Anita Dawes's Blog: http://jenanita01.wordpress.com, page 15

How Many of You...

Tom and Jerry…



How many of you know the answer to this question… which is worse than finding a mouse running around your office?
Finding two, is the right answer.
We willingly share our house with one stroppy, arrogant and demanding black and white cat, called Merlin. He is a lovely cat, but with one particular quirk we wish he didn’t have. He loves to bring us gifts from the garden. Usually a mouse of some description, but we have had a frog and a butterfly too. He is a very gentle cat, so none of his gifts are damaged.
He is getting on a bit now, as are we all, but he still hasn’t learned that his chosen gift will not sit and wait while he has a spot of lunch. It’s quite comical really, the way you can see him trying to puzzle out where it went.
But this time he has surpassed himself and we have two at the same time. One is larger than the other, a field mouse I think, with a lovely white chest, and the other is so cute. Just like a cartoon mouse, dark, round, and not a bit shy. Lovely, but we don’t want them in doors.
Over the years, we have tried to catch them, and sometimes get lucky. Like the time one was hiding behind the cushions on the couch, leaving his tail sticking out for all to see.Mostly though, it’s a very frustrating time, wondering where they are and what they might be chewing.
As we are getting far too old to be crawling around the floor, we bought one of those humane traps. Loaded with cheese and room to move around, they seem to work some of the time.
The larger field mouse used this facility and was soon back outside, but the smaller one was becoming a problem, acting like no mouse I have ever seen. He has taken to sitting in the middle of the floor, staring at Merlin. Merlin just stares back, as if he can’t figure it out either. Then the funny little creature started patrolling around the house as if he belonged there. Seeing this tiny brown ball (with a tail) slowly moving around was weird. He was ignoring the trap, so this was becoming a real problem.
In the end, we left the back door open all day, hoping he would take advantage of it and go back to where he belonged.We do consider ourselves lucky though. Next doors cats bring in half eaten mice and birds. At least our old Merlin is a big softy!
There is a lot more to this story… tune in next week, to see what happened next!

Ditch the Editing…

Reposted from http://jenanita01.wordpress.com

I woke up that morning feeling rebellious, never a good sign for I never know what will happen next.The weather promised a good day, brilliant blue cloudless skies and strong sunshine. I could feel an indescribable pull to do something out of the ordinary, something un-sensible and irrational. It was altogether far too good to spend the day chained to a computer.
I knew I should have been firmer in my resolve, more dedicated to my workload. But I kept looking out of the window and knew I had to escape, as my mind already had.
Where to go, that was the question. Our local lake/pond is beautiful and always worth a visit, but my mind was full of images of the sea, the smell of salt water strong in my nostrils. I had to find someone to take me, someone with a car, as I don’t drive anymore.
It seemed that before I could blink, Anita and her son Stephen had joined the party and we were off.The nearest coast to us is Hayling Island, some twenty miles away, and we arrived in next to no time. 
More escapees had beaten us to it, for the world and his wife were already there, but the island is big enough with plenty of room for everybody.
I had wanted to go somewhere I hadn’t been before, somewhere new and strange. Somewhere an adventure might be lurking. But I had been out voted. Hardly an adventure, I thought, more a side step in reality, but hopefully the vast expanse of sparkling ocean would compensate.
And in a way it did.
I wandered away from my companions and crunched down the shingle beach to the water’s edge. The soothing sound of the waves breaking on the glistening stones, foam hissing gently as it sank out of sight.
I walked between the ancient wooden breakers, at peace in my own little world, far away it seemed from deadlines and commitments. A kind of freedom after all. My feet strayed into the water a few times and I smiled, hardly the adventure I sought that morning.
I realised something important in that moment. We don’t find adventure, it finds us, usually when you are ill prepared to cope with it, adding a sense of urgency and danger to lure you on.
What I did find later on that day was a cardboard tray of hot and golden crispy chips, sprinkled with melting cheese, eaten with what could pass for joy while sitting on a pile of shingle, looking out to sea…
© 2015 Jaye Marie

Christmas Grotto at Smorgasbord...

Reposted from Smorgasbord...  Christmas Grotto 2015 – The Last Life by Jaye Marie Posted on November 7, 2015 by Smorgasbord - Variety is the Spice of Life. Today’s featured book The Last Life, by Jaye Marie is the sequel to her first book The Ninth Life but is also a stand alone story.
 About the Book
Kate Devereau wakes up in a hospital, unable to speak or move. Her brain has shut down, refusing to acknowledge her dark and disturbing past, concealing a web of painful secrets.
Michael Barratt brought her to the hospital, insisting that her ex-husband had tried to kill her. And from the state of him, had tried to kill him too. He had been searching for Kate for years, ever since their doomed love affair, only to discover someone else had been hunting her too.
With the help of the DI David Snow, Kate will gradually piece her life back together, only to discover the nightmare is far from over.
Her first instinct is to run, but David Snow convinces her to stay and help him put an end to the nightmare. A nightmare that will get progressively worse before it gets better.
Haunted by his own demons, will the Snowman manage to catch the twisted killer?
Evil lurks in this story and people die, but amidst the tears and heartache, a lost love struggles to survive…
Buy The Last Life.
Amazon:   http://amazon.com/The-Last-Life-Jaye-Marie/dp/B017DNXBXE
You might like to buy the first book The Ninth Life as it is in Kindle as well as print and although The Last Life is a stand alone novel, it will give you background on Kate Devereau and what has brought her to this challenging crossroads in her life.
The Ninth Life is the dark and disturbing mystery thriller of a middle-aged woman who has escaped dying so many times she would appear to have nine lives. At least that’s what the annoying voice in her head would have her believe. Always a bit of a loner, with a failed marriage and relationships behind her, Kate Devereau’s life has not been kind, and despite her apparent immortality, death might have been welcome.
Set in present day England, Kate’s reputation as an artist has grown, but she has no life other than art. No friends or husband. When people around her start to die at the hands of a sadistic serial killer, she begins to wonder if she will be next. Is she finally running out of time? Is it her turn to die?
Here is the direct link to the Kindle version.
http://www.amazon.com/Ninth-Life-Jaye-Marie-ebook/dp/B00O272A14/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8
About Jaye Marie
Most people may know me as one-half of the writing partnership, Anita & Jaye Dawes, and I have come to writing quite late in life.
I always used to think I didn’t have an ambitious bone in my body, content to potter about with my many craft hobbies. Always preferring to be in the background and invisible if at all possible.
And for the last ten years since my retirement, that’s what my life has been like. I love books and have read my way through stacks of them, so when my sister-in-law Anita needed someone to edit and type up her manuscripts, I was happy to help and that’s when I discovered my vocation.
Then one day everyone was talking about “Indie” or self-publishing. Now, I knew only too well how hard it was to be published the traditional way, so I became very excited at the prospect of being able to do it ourselves.
At first, I concentrated on publishing Anita’s books. It wasn’t quite as easy as they made it sound, but with my usual stubbornness I kept at it, learning more and more as I went along, and somewhere along the way I starting thinking about a story that had been nibbling away in the corner of my mind for months.
I tried to ignore it, but before too long, The Ninth Life demanded to be written and turned out to be a Mystery/Thriller. I am reasonably pleased with the outcome, basically to be honest, because my characters took charge and practically wrote it for me! They had quite a say with the sequel too, and I am proud of our achievements!
I also enjoy running a website/blog and all the wonderful people I continue to meet from all around the world. I learn something new every single day and it is much appreciated.

Buy Jaye’s books and connect with her on Social Media.
Amazon Author Page:   https://www.amazon.com/author/jayemarie44
WordPress:  http://jenanita01.wordpress.com
Facebook:     https://www.facebook.com/jayemarie44
Twitter:         https://twitter.com/jaydawes2

There are just 20 spots left for the Christmas Grotto so if you wish to showcase your books, design or music then it would be a good idea to get them to me soon.

Do not be shy and if you would like your book, designs, crafts, music and art showcased in the Christmas Grotto please contact me after looking at the format below. The shelves are filling up fast and there are only as many spaces as days to Christmas.

For details about how to submit your book, gifts and music please take a look at both the format of the post today and also in the link below.
https://smorgasbordinvitation.wordpress.com/2015/10/07/omg-the-c-word-sallys-christmas-grotto-open-again-for-business/

For the books and gifts currently in the emporium please pop into the shop.
https://smorgasbordinvitation.wordpress.com/christmas-grotto-2015-books-and-gifts/

The Evil Winds…

It’s Monday morning, and I am sat at my computer, but staring out of the window instead of working. The weather is suitably grey for a Monday and the trees are being tossed this way and that, by quite fierce winds. Much as the world is being buffeted by all manner of evil winds. And the old saying is true, an evil wind blows no one any good.
A magpie comes into view, closely followed by a large black bird, possibly a raven. They both try to land in the tree, but the branches seem to shake them off, making it difficult. As I watch, I realise they are arguing about something. Probably a territory infringement. This is something they seem to do a lot of around here, and it occurs to me that the human race is not alone in this habit.
I watch the largest of the trees, some kind of gum, I think, its branches yielding to the force of the wind. Nature has designed these trees to bend and not break in the strongest of gales and I believe we are endowed with some of this quality too.
They say that whatever doesn’t kill you, can only make you stronger, even if you think you are dying at the time. Personally, I have had enough of this strength building and would willingly settle for a quiet and peaceful life.
A quiet and peaceful world come to that…

Jesse…

I was hoping that when I woke up this morning he would be gone, but the moment I opened my eyes, I sensed he was still around.
All my life, I have been subjected to dark, depressive moods to such an extent they seemed normal. Something that happened on a regular basis to me and other people, something I could do little about.
Looking back, I often wonder, which came first, the disasters or Jesse? Could he be the cause of all the trouble in my life, or simply the end result? Did some obscure supernatural force that masqueraded as a large black dog curse me?
No stranger to the conflicting thoughts and emotions that churn around in my head, I knew what it meant. Not going to be a quick visit then, but when was it ever?I also knew there was little point in arguing with him, as it had never worked in the past. Had I been working too hard in my haste to finish writing my book and move on?
I knew I had, but this couldn’t be what had summoned Jesse again. I love being a writer. Words, sentences and chapters were my friends.
The most important part of writing a book, is the choice of cover, and for some peculiar reason, I just couldn’t do it. I tried repeatedly to first find the inspiration, then to create something suitable, but I didn’t like anything I came up with.
Not one to give up easily, I even commissioned a cover from my friend Chris Graham who is far cleverer than I. But after three failed attempts I had to step back. Something must be seriously wrong this time. Not just overwork or frustration, I was getting mixed signals and failing to recognise any of them. Could it be time to hang up my pencil? But halfway through writing this, I realised that wasn’t the answer.
It is never just one thing that brings Jesse back. He has learned to wait, I swear, knowing that this little car that could, will finally slip off the rails completely.
In the past, I have snapped out of it reasonably quickly, but just lately, it’s as if he doesn’t want to leave me. Maybe he is getting old too, and eager for a quiet life.
Sometimes I miss having a real dog, for all the friendship and loyalty they bring, but in all fairness, I cannot welcome this one into my heart, although sometimes it would seem he is already there.
He has been with me, off and on, for so long now. Almost by default, as he is always there when I seem to need him the most. He never berates or condemns, criticises or demeans and in the midst of all the dark silent terror that is depression, he has become my friend.
Jesse is the embodiment of my despair made manifest. He hasn’t caused my distress, how could he? 
People are too quick to blame him, when the truth is closer to home…
© 2015 Jaye Marie

A Huge Welcome to Kate Devereau...

 
Today, we welcome a guest to our blog.
Our very first character guest post, introducing Kate Devereau; the unlucky artist from Jaye’s books The Ninth Life and The Last Life.
Still recovering from her latest trauma, she seems frail yet fiercely determined to be here. Something we have come to expect from her.
“Shove that pile of books out of the way, and make yourself comfortable…so good to finally meet you in person, Kate.”
“Thanks Jaye, it’s lovely to be here, anywhere actually…”
“How exactly are you these days? I understand you ran afoul of Jack Holland, your murdering ex-husband again?
“Unfortunately I have, but I have a new protector now, so I am confident everything will be fine…”
“Does this protector have a name, and when do we meet him?”
“The book will be available from Friday 6th November, and then everyone can meet my Snowman and discover what happened in my latest adventure.”
“Er… who or what is this Snowman, Kate?”
Kate Devereau (looking a bit like Meryl Streep)“The new man in my life, Detective Inspector David Snow. He is so kind and helpful. He saved my life, and sent Jack packing…”
“Good news indeed. But what about Michael Barratt, your loyal old flame. Is he still carrying a torch for you?”
“Sadly not. I don’t think it would have worked out anyway, it had been far too long and we had changed too much.”
“The arrival of this snowman wouldn’t have anything to do with it?”(Kate starts to look uncomfortable, and I wonder if I have touched an exposed nerve. Or is something else going on here?)
“I’m sorry, but I am still a little raw around the edges. What happened to Michael was awful…”
“What happened to him, can you tell us?” (I notice she is wringing her hands together, each one trying to make the other be still. Maybe this visit was too soon…)
“No, I cannot tell you what happened to him at the church. All I keep seeing is the bloody roses on the altar. They wouldn’t let me see him…”
“I am sorry, Kate. I didn’t realise it would still be this raw.” (Changing the subject fast, I ask about her painting. The change in her face is remarkable, and as the tension eases, a small smile appears at the corners of her mouth.)
“I haven’t been able to paint since… but thanks to the Snowman I have my favourite seascape back. I live in that painting. Maybe one day soon I can start to paint again.”
“In the first book, I loved reading about your paintings and how each one was created. It would be a shame if the world was deprived of any more of your work.”
Kate smiles, the first real smile of the day. “I can feel it building inside of me, this overwhelming need to smell the linseed oil again. Hopefully, it won’t be long…”
(I sense the interview is over, but I make her promise to come back when her life is back on track.
© Jaye Marie 2015

Drum Roll Please...

Drum roll please... We have an announcement...

JAYE'S  NEW  BOOK  'The Last Life' IS  RELEASED  TODAY!

The long awaited sequel to The Ninth Life is here, and introduces Kate's Snowman, Detective Inspector David Snow...





The Last Life  (synopsis) 


Kate Devereau wakes up in a hospital, unable to speak or move. Her brain has shut down, refusing to acknowledge her dark and disturbing past, concealing a web of painful secrets.

Michael Barratt brought her to the hospital, insisting that her ex-husband had tried to kill her. And from the state of him, had tried to kill him too. He had been searching for Kate for years, ever since their doomed love affair, only to discover someone else had been hunting her too.
With the help of the DI David Snow, Kate will gradually piece her life back together, only to discover the nightmare is far from over. Her first instinct is to run, but David Snow convinces her to stay and help him put an end to the nightmare. A nightmare that will get progressively worse before it gets better.
Haunted by his own demons, will the Snowman manage to catch the twisted killer?
Evil lurks in this story and people die, but amidst the tears and heartache, a lost love struggles to survive…
Please visit Jaye's Author Page on Amazon here...
 

Lilies and Asthma…

Being an asthmatic is very often a pain in the neck. Sorry about the pun, but it is. So many things I cannot do or experience for fear of being unable to breathe.
I cannot wear perfume or use scented products. I have to use baby talcum powder, so usually smell like an infant. This includes most washing powders and air fresheners too. Steam and cooking smells can start me off, so my love of cooking has turned into a course of frustration.
I hate supermarkets, cinemas or public gatherings, for there will always be somebody wearing perfume or aftershave that will literally bring me to my knees.
I haven’t always been an asthmatic. Something happened during a general anaesthetic in my twenties, which triggered it, and even though I hoped it would go the way it came, it never has.


Someone bought me a beautiful bouquet of flowers last week, and they were lovely, ivory roses and white lilies. The roses were fine, hardly scented at all, but the lilies were something else. I knew from past experience that their wonderful perfume would gradually take over the whole house and become unbearable for me.



Somehow, I couldn’t put them in the dustbin, so I took them outside and put them in the first thing to hand. This happened to be a large green watering can.
I can see these beautiful and ethereal flowers from my kitchen window, and they have lasted longer than the roses…

It made me think how sometimes we are forced to look at things from a very different point of view, especially if you are a writer.  I have learned not to dismiss any possibility or idea, as “what if” can lead you into some very weird places!

When Life Couldn't get Any Worse...

Found myself nearly at the end of my tether this week. Depression had taken a few days off, but now it’s back with a vengeance. My back seems to have finally forgiven me and my knee still has an axe to grind, but that should not account for my frequent impersonation of a blubbering wreck. I have the unshakeable feeling that just one more disaster will break someone’s back, probably mine.
Then, just as I was doing my best to pull myself together, the worst flu in history struck and the depression found a few more notches to climb…
Didn’t think the week could get any worse and was not prepared for it getting any better, but the following day it did. I was woken up at four o’clock in the morning by the characters from my recently finished (soon to be launched) book banging on and on in my head about needing another chance to sort their lives out. To be fair, they were coming up with some good ideas as to how this could be managed. Significantly, the only one who wasn’t nagging me, was the annoying voice that only Kate can hear. And before you could blink, I was building the storyline and plotting my head off. Apparently, they want a new playmate and are being very insistent. I cannot argue with them, as they have more than proved their worth. And they should get the credit, for most of the time all I did was follow their orders!I never realised how much fun writing a book could be, and I am more than delighted that the next one seems to be waiting in the wings.
I still don’t understand why is it that some mornings you wake up feeling as though you spent the night with Doom and Gloom, and others have you springing out of bed full of optimism?All I can say is that I am grateful for it, as life is proving to be so very short without it…

Introducing a preview of ‘The Last Life, soon to be launched on Amazon.
The amazing cover was created for me by Chris Graham, The Story Reading Ape.
Bet you didn't know he does this, as well as being best help an author could ask for?


Book Blurb
Kate Devereau wakes up in a hospital, unable to speak or move. Her brain has shut down, refusing to acknowledge her dark and disturbing past, concealing a web of painful secrets.

Michael Barratt brought her to the hospital, insisting that her ex-husband had tried to kill her. And from the state of him, had tried to kill him too. He had been searching for Kate for years, ever since their doomed love affair, only to discover someone else had been hunting her too.

With the help of the DI David Snow, Kate will gradually piece her life back together, only to discover the nightmare is far from over.
Her first instinct is to run, but David Snow convinces her to stay and help him put an end to the nightmare. A nightmare that will get progressively worse before it gets better.

Haunted by his own demons, will the Snowman manage to catch the twisted killer?

Evil lurks in this story and people die, but amidst the tears and heartache, a lost love struggles to survive…

On Her Own...

 


The first time her mother stayed out all night, Mary didn’t worry. She was well used to her erratic behaviour and wasn’t surprised by anything her mother did.In some respects, it was a treat, not to have to worry about going a whole evening without upsetting her mother. Something she seemed unable to do, no matter how hard she tried.In the unaccustomed peace and quiet, she read a book for a while and then went to bed. She was hungry, but it didn’t matter.
Mary took herself to school the next day, and tried not to think about anything else. When she got home, the flat was empty and quiet, just as she had left it that morning. The beds were unmade and dirty plates sat in the sink. She looked for something to eat, searching through every cupboard and finding just half a packet of stale biscuits and a small tin of baked beans.
She was beginning to feel a little lonely and very hungry. She should have a wash, but there was no hot water. She wasn’t in the mood anyway, so she went to bed.Before going to school in the morning, Mary searched the flat, looking for money. There had to be some somewhere, for there was no food and she was beyond hungry. She almost wished her mother would come home. Almost.
She managed to find enough small change to buy a loaf of bread on her way home and was greeted by more silence as she let herself in.
For the first time, Mary began to worry. Supposing she never came home? Maybe she had gone off with some man, leaving her to fend for herself?  She had never stayed away this long before.That night she was too hungry to sleep. Her stomach hurt and she felt sick, even contemplated going through the bin, just in case there was something there she could eat.
When Mary left for school on the third day, she knew she would have to do something. But what was an eight year old supposed to do?

All day she tried to concentrate on her lessons, but she felt so alone. She found herself looking at her schoolmates. How many of them went to bed hungry, she wondered. How many of them had a mother like hers?At the end of the school day, Mary walked home slowly, hating the not knowing and what she might be forced to do. If only she could manage, her mother could stay gone. Inside the front door, she stopped and listened. There was nothing. Nothing at all.She slammed the front door behind her and made her way to the high street. At the police station, she hesitated, and then walked inside.
It didn’t take them long to find her mother. Almost as though they knew where she was. It took just long enough to treat her to a decent meal followed by ice cream, which she couldn’t enjoy. She was terrified, knowing her mother would probably kill her for subjecting her to all the humiliation.
Understandably, being dragged home by the police had done nothing to improve her mother’s mood. She was fuming, refusing to look at Mary, who was way past regretting her actions. God alone knew what would happen next. But she had no choice, did she?
© 2015 Jaye Marie