Anita Dawes's Blog: http://jenanita01.wordpress.com, page 5

The End of Things

The cat was asleep on the chair behind her.  She could hear him breathing. Like a baby, small sounds, soft and slightly pitiful in the silence of the room. He was growing old, his movements slower these days; she could see a degree of stiffness in the careful way he moved.
She caught him staring at her sometimes, as if she held the answers to all his questions. But she was near the end too and had no answers, no way to know who would go first or when.
Is this what happens to everything as they grow old? Do they see the end of things everywhere they look?These days she looks at growing things, and where she once felt joy in their creation, now all she sees is the futility of it all. Just a series of small steps, leading ultimately to nothing.
She wishes he would wake up and stop making that plaintiff sound, but he seems to be getting louder, filling her heart with more sadness than it can possibly hold.
She wonders if he is ready to go, if he is finished with this world, pleased to be done with it. She used to think she was, but now, when it is inevitable, she is not sure any more…


© 2015 Jaye Marie

Puppy Sitting…

Not sure how I managed to do any work yesterday, as due to a family emergency, we volunteered to puppy sit.Maggie is a miniature dachshund and three months old. Cute as a button, but with more energy than the two of us combined. Although she has visited before, her human ‘mum’ was always with her, so we wondered how she would cope without her.
We needn’t have worried, within minutes she was hell bent on having as much fun as possible, spreading her collection of toys all over the house. Much to the annoyance of our resident feline, Merlin. He took one look and vanished upstairs, probably hoping he would be safe up there.  Maggie isn’t allowed to climb the stairs, as her body is very long and not that strong yet, so stairs are out until she is a lot older.


We took it in turns to escort her into the yard for possible penny spending, but apparently she wasn’t in the mood. Leading to one accident on the hall carpet, but who was counting.
I tried to do some work on the PC in the office, but all I managed to do was signal that there was another room to have some fun in.
It was hard to concentrate with a small furry body stomping around on my feet, as she investigated all the interesting things under my desk. She dragged out an old pair of slippers I thought I had lost, a ball of parcel ribbon and some stretchy hair bands. I wondered where they went.All of this was hilarious, but not much work was being done. Well, watching her was so much more fun. She would probably have a nap soon, I thought. She was a baby after all.
Someone must have forgotten to tell her that, for she wasn’t showing any sign of dropping. Much later, we discovered why. Little Maggie had already been a bit spoilt. She needed a suitable lap for snoozing, something that didn’t occur to us until later and nothing else would work the oracle.
Merlin came downstairs, obviously miffed to find the mini intruder still in residence. Maggie spotted him and thought he might play with her, if she pranced around close enough to him. No chance. He let out his best angry howl, his back arched, trying his best to look as menacing as possible. All this was lost on Maggie, either she wasn’t impressed or didn’t know what the hell was wrong with him.
When it was time for Maggie to go home, we knew we would miss her, but Merlin glared at us for at least an hour, until he was sure she wasn’t coming back…

Secrets…

myBook.to/Secrett



Secrets, a haunting family drama, is about deeply buried guilt and all the secrets and suspicions that invade and control our lives.Many children have an invisible friend, and sometimes they can be a necessary part of a child’s life for many reasons.
But when this ‘friend’ starts to cause more than just mischief, it is time for his mother to investigate further.Maggie Swan loves her little boy Danny, but his new playmate was becoming something of a problem. It was almost as though something was wrong and he was trying to fix it.
Her husband Jack, was no help at all, dismissing her ideas as rubbish. But was he merely trying to hide a guilty secret? One that Danny’s new friend knew all about?
 

Excerpt of Secrets…
Jack Swan sliced through his fried egg the same way he did every morning, precisely, like a surgeon. Cutting a piece of bacon and sausage, he proceeded to dip them into the bright yellow yolk in a very business-like manner.Sitting opposite him at the breakfast table, Maggie watched him eat, remembering what he’d said at the beginning of their marriage so long ago; that a good breakfast was the only way to start the day. As far as Jack was concerned, if his egg was right, the day would be perfect, and not for the first time she wondered about this part of his childhood programming. According to medical science we are all supposed to have something we carry around with us from childhood. Something individual that makes us act the way we do. She wondered what hers was.
Deep in thought, Maggie began to play with her breakfast and it was Jack’s turn to watch fondly as she doodled with the egg yolk, spreading strange and bizarre patterns across the plate. The early morning sunlight streamed through the kitchen window bathing the breakfast scene in a cosy glow. She looked like a child sitting there in a pretty cotton housecoat, pale honey-coloured hair falling around her shoulders like a halo. She had something on her mind, he was sure. Knowing he didn’t really have the time and hoping she’d say it was nothing, he said, ‘What’s up, love, did you have another bad night with Danny?’She slowly looked up at him from the mess on her plate, and he could tell by the way her usually bright blue eyes had darkened to the colour of the sea that he wasn’t about to hear anything like what he wanted to hear.Looking back down at her plate, she said, ‘I’m very worried about him, Jack. These terrible nightmares are getting him down; and now this thing about an imaginary friend, I don’t like it, something’s wrong.’Jumping straight in, hoping to get it over with quickly so he could get out of the house, he said, ‘You know what the doctor told us, he’ll grow out of it soon enough. It will only make things worse if we try and make Danny let go before he’s ready.’‘Yes, I know what he said,’ an edge creeping into her voice, ‘but he’s not God. You don’t have to take everything he says as gospel. I don’t happen to think this thing with Toby is the same as a comfy blanket or a favourite teddy a child drags around with him. Can’t you see how he’s changed?
‘… he’s destructive, rude and downright messy. Don’t you think dragging half the garden into the kitchen last week was going a bit too far? You saw his face when I tried to tell him off, he wasn’t the least bit sorry. Judging from the skid marks all over the place it was plain to see he’d had a whale of a time, and what did he say when I asked him why he’d done it? … because Toby wanted him to.
‘… Jack, can’t you see we have to make him understand this Toby is only in his mind and he’s too old to play these pretend games?’
He took a deep breath, painfully aware the time was getting on. ‘Maggie, he’s only seven. You’re making too much of it. The doctor said to give him time and not to bully him into giving up Toby. It might make his nightmares worse.’She opened her mouth to say something, but before she could, he reminded her again that she had agreed the gentle approach was best.
‘Plus, you haven’t given that idea of yours idea a chance. Having Cathy take Danny to school with Michael may work. He’ll soon see that having a real friend is lots more fun. Have you asked him again about joining the cubs?’
She snorted. ‘I did, and his answer was the same as before. Toby doesn’t want him to.’
‘Give him time, Maggie, he’ll come around.’
Maggie seemed to have run out of wind for the time being, so he took his empty plate over to the sink and left it on the draining board. Straightening his tie as he turned to her again, he said, ‘I’m sorry I don’t have time to talk this morning. I have four books waiting a final decision and what with the deadline and our new budget, I think I’ll have to reject two of them, you know how I hate sending out rejection letters. It doesn’t make for a nice day, especially when a book is worth publishing. If you’re that worried about Danny, we’ll talk about it tonight.’Maggie frowned and gave him the kind of look that said, sure we will. Jack had seen it many times and responded in a way she had grown used to over the years. He pulled her into his arms, squeezed her gently, saying, ‘I promise we’ll talk about it later.’Then he kissed her goodbye, grabbed his briefcase and left.

Why I hate computers!

For a start, they make me feel even more stupid than I actually am. (I have conducted significant research into this, and know this to be true. For no one could be as stupid as I feel when faced with all their shenanigans)
Since the arrival of all this nonsense about Windows 10, my computer has been doing some really strange things and I’m not convinced it’s just a coincidence. Weird stalling at first, followed by mild confusion (not mine, yet)Then the buffering started.
Over the weeks, I have devised a method of dealing with these problems. From changing websites, and sometimes this works, as particular sites seem to suffer with these problems more than others. To switching off the internet and playing solitaire for a while.See how resourceful I am?
Yesterday was bad. The buffering seemed to go on forever, no matter what I did. Even the CTRL+ALT +DELETE trick refused to work. Nothing responded to my delicate touch, so I decided to switch the blessed thing off at the mains.What followed was surreal.
I turned everything off at the mains and waited. Nothing happened. That annoying little blue circle continued to circle. I stared at it, unsure of what was happening.Minutes passed and still nothing happened.
The computer had to be possessed by the devil and I finally had proof.My brain must have had second thoughts about this, for it started to look for the real reason. The relief when I discovered I had switched off the wrong plug was palpable. I may not be insane after all, just stupid.
Switching it off (for real this time) didn’t work either. I had visions of carting the PC off to the repair shop, and all the inconvenience and expense. The nightmare was getting worse by the minute. I ended up doing all my routine tasks on my laptop, while running a systems check on the PC. After many false clues and failed procedures, it turned out I had far too many things happening at start up. Not that I fully understood what this meant. I had to indicate which ones to turn off from the start menu. I hesitated. Was this a good idea?
I have done some stupid things like this before, and learned the hard way to never do anything I didn’t fully understand. So I tentatively deleted one or two and tried again. No change. Again with the same message.I was getting desperate by this time, so took a leap of faith and deleted them all. After a restart, the PC worked quicker than it had in ages and my sanity was restored.
But not for long. Soon the buffering returned and my sanity turned tail and left the building.
For two days I tried to find the answer. If it hadn’t been for the laptop, I would have had to take the damned thing back to the shop. Instead, I googled the problem and found a helpful help screen for Firefox. They suggested several reasons for my dilemma, so I systematically tried them all. It was the second one that worked, something about an unresponsive (or broken) plug-in.
Still not sure what this was all about, or what went wrong, but (fingers crossed) everything seems to be working well at the moment…

“What have you done lately, to make you feel proud…?”

Identify Your Target Audience…We are often told we have to do this, being the one sure way of actually ‘making it’ or getting to that most cherished of places, the successful author.I have lost track of how many articles and blog posts I have read since we started. We are constantly told that a writing career TAKES A LOT OF WORK and I don’t know about you, but there simply isn’t enough hours in my day to do much more. So the question is this, are we doing the right things in the first place?
Who exactly are your Ideal Readers?I have thought long and hard about this one. This is the person you should be concentrating on, and building a relationship with. And this is where I am very confused. Surely, most of the people we interact with, are authors just like us, not necessarily readers?But when you think about it, we are all readers. Some more than others, but I wouldn’t mind betting that how much we read is relevant to how far we go in our respective careers.
Hold on a minute…Think of all the big names, the very successful authors. You do not see many of them on Facebook or Twitter, do you? Might that suggest there is another way, or are they simply discarded when not needed anymore?
Are our priorities in the right order?No matter what some of do, we don’t seem to make much progress, if any at all. Something seems to be holding us back, and it cannot be the lack of trying. So, back to the original question…
Are we doing the right things?Being eager to learn, we read and digest all the advice, and implement it (as best we can manage, anyway) and arrive at a point where we cannot possibly squeeze one more thing into our schedules. Even then, we have a sneaky feeling that either some aspects are not being fully utilised, or we have missed the mark completely.However, we are doing better than we did a year ago, so must be on the right track at least. So, although we ARE doing better, some areas need more thought.
Next week, we will be exploring how to find the PERFECT READER. The person all our efforts should be geared towards. Where we will find them, and hopefully, what to do when we get there.You have probably gathered that this post is trying to teach me something, but if you found it interesting (or not) please leave a comment. They always that say two heads are better than one.

What Makes a Good Book?

An anti- review or Reverse review…
This could catch on… for don’t they say that there is no such thing as negative publicity?There is a theory that if a book or something is panned well enough, people will want to read it, just to see if they agree…
###
“10 million copies sold” it stated on the cover of the Scandinavian crime thriller I was trying to read. Published by Harper Collins in 2004.The cover was less than inspiring I thought, a monotone image of broken ice, revealing dark water beneath.The blurb said it was ‘heart-stopping’ with a gripping plot line, with plenty of twists and turns along the way. I truly thought I was in for one hell of a read… But I was bored to tears.
The prose was ordinary and seemed to go on and on about every mundane thing the author could think of.It was a very long book, 400 pages (or did it just seem that way due to the amount of time taken for anything to happen?)
I always thought I could read anything and enjoy it, and to be fair, I have enjoyed reading all manner of books in a variety of genres. I don’t remember disliking a book so much before.The author has written several books, so was not exactly new to the art, so what was my problem?
Was it because the book was originally written in Scandinavian and subsequently translated?There were no glaring errors or typos, and the words flowed well enough, albeit slowly. Maybe that was it, for crime thrillers should move smartly along. Hardly a thriller if it didn’t, right?
So I gave up. I had tried, but it didn’t do anything for me. I read for many different reasons, but boredom isn’t one of them.

Unexpected walkabout…

The sun was shining and it finally felt warm. I desperately needed to get out of the house and go for a walk, but not sure if I was fit enough to go where I really wanted to go.

It is nearly a mile to our local pond, and this is such a stupid thing to call it, for it is huge. It takes nearly an hour to walk slowly around it, so this will tell you the size of it.
I was prepared to make the trip, even though it was a risk. Getting there isn’t usually the problem, but after you have walked around for a while, you don’t have much energy left for the return trip. In addition, I was still recuperating for the cancer treatment.
At the last minute, help arrived in the shape of an unexpected lift in my niece’s car, she fancied a walk too, and it quite made my day. I could enjoy the water and the scenery and come safely home, energy levels intact!
I adore this pond. All the different wildlife and trees, the sunlight glinting on the water, rounded off with a lovely cup of drinking chocolate at the waterside café.I didn’t need to walk right around the pond, but it was Spring and the resident swans could be laying their eggs and I wanted to see them.

Half way around, I spotted the enormous white birds. One was sitting on the nest, a huge pile of twigs. The other stood guard, one eye on his mate and the other on me, lest I went too near. No fear of that really, the nest was way out in the water.
I am always amazed by how successful they are as parents. Every year they rear at least six cygnets, and during the time it takes to build the nest, lay the eggs and then rear the young, you hardly ever see them eat, so devoted they are to the job in hand.
I thought back to two years ago, when I had the good but scary fortune to be witness to a close encounter with the pair of them, complete with ten small cygnets in tow. I was sitting on a bench by the water enjoying the day, when they decided that particular spot was where they would come ashore. They clambered out of the water and waited patiently for their babies to join them. I hardly dared to breathe, for they were so close to me and not known for their tolerance to humans at this time of year. It was an amazing moment, and one I will never forget.
I wondered how many eggs they would lay this year, so far I could only see five in the nest. These incredibly beautiful birds have a very special relationship, loyal and dutiful, and I made a mental note to mark the calendar when I returned home, so I would know when it was time to come back and meet the family…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Just a quick mention of our progress on #KindleScout. Only one more day of the campaign and my book has reached the 'hot and trending' list!
So many of you have supported my book, and I want to thank you all from the bottom of my heart...

THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!
  

Review: 44 Gilmore Street...

I am reposting this today, because I have just finished reading the next book in the series, 44 Gilmore Street, and thought I would add the review for this book here…

  Rise To Me…  by Shani Struthers
The opening prologue of this stunningly unusual second book in the series, instantly grabs you by the throat. We meet Ruby, a young psychic child, one already well used to communicating with spirits, finding herself confronted with one who is not human or ever was.
Fast-forward 18 years and Ruby now runs a successful domestic spiritual clearance business, called Psychic Surveys, using psychic detection to solve old crimes.In the course of her job, she encounters an angry ghost and tries to help it move on, but this turns out to be no ordinary haunting. Usually good at her job, she finds herself confronted by something very unexpected. Something she may not be able to do anything about, something from her past comes back to haunt her.
On a lighter note, all psychics have a spirit guide, and Ruby’s is far from ordinary. Hilariously different and fiercely protective, Ruby’s guide is a dog called Jed.
This book has everything. Well written with a nightmare ending, brilliantly suspenseful and gripping.  I enjoyed reading it immensely.

About The Author Born and bred in the sunny seaside town of Brighton, one of the first literary conundrums Shani had to deal with was her own name - Shani can be pronounced in a variety of ways but in this instance it's Shay-nee not Shar-ney or Shan-ni - although she does indeed know a Shanni - just to confuse matters further! Hobbies include reading and writing - so no surprises there. After graduating from Sussex University with a degree in English and American Literature, Shani became a freelance copywriter. Twenty years later, the day job includes crafting novels too. She is the author of contemporary Cornish romance - The Runaway Year - published in 2013 by Omnific Publishing and best-selling paranormal mystery - Psychic Surveys Book One: The Haunting of Highdown Hall - published by Crooked Cat in April 2014.
Jessamine - a paranormal mystery/romance set in the highlands of Scotland and The Runaway Ex (sequel to The Runaway Year) were also published in late 2014. And from March 2015, Psychic Surveys Book Two: Rise to Me is available both in ebook format and paperback. *************



Here is our review for the next book in the Psychic Surveys series, 44 Gilmore Street!
“We all have to face our demons at some point.”

Psychic Surveys – specialists in domestic spiritual clearance – have never been busier. Although exhausted, Ruby is pleased. Her track record as well as her down-to-earth, no-nonsense approach inspires faith in the haunted, who willingly call on her high street consultancy when the supernatural takes hold.

But that’s all about to change.

Two cases prove trying: 44 Gilmore Street, home to a particularly violent spirit, and the reincarnation case of Elisha Grey. When Gilmore Street attracts press attention, matters quickly deteriorate. Dubbed the ‘New Enfield’, the ‘Ghost of Gilmore Street’ inflames public imagination, but as Ruby and the team fail repeatedly to evict the entity, faith in them wavers.

Dealing with negative press, the strangeness surrounding Elisha, and a spirit that’s becoming increasingly territorial, Ruby’s at breaking point. So much is pushing her towards the abyss, not least her own past. It seems some demons just won’t let go…
Having previously read Rise To Me , I knew I would enjoy 44 Gilmore Street too. And I was right, new cases, new emotions and a shed load of intrigue.Again, I marvelled at the depth of the author’s knowledge of psychic phenomena as the characters explore a new field, that of past life regression, or reincarnation if you will. A truly fascinating subject.I read a lot of books in many different genres, but Shani Struthers writes such unusual stories in an equally unusual field, and she does it brilliantly.Deliciously different, not the typical stereotyped glory stories which usually  sensationalise the subject. 44 Gilmore Street shows us  what a strange, dangerous job domestic spiritual clearance really is.The characters are genuine, down to earth, caring people, with believable relationships. I loved them all, foibles and all, and I particularly liked the new sadness element that usually accompanies these dealings.
The tension builds slowly in this book, stretching your nerves to breaking point, and the end of the story is literally hair raising. You might need to leave the light on at bed time!

Was this my long lost love?

I think I have been going on about my favourite rose for years, and didn’t think the family took much notice, for it was a very old variety and probably not around anymore.
When I was a child, we used to make our own perfume by plucking rose petals and soaking them in water. My favourite was the one with the darkest red petals and strong scent. Years later, I discovered the name and actually had one in my garden. It had the most amazing scent and I loved it. Then we moved away and I never found another one to replace it.


Imagine my surprise, when on my birthday last month, I was presented with a heavily pruned rose stock in a pot of soil. It looked incredibly old, with quite bad die back on what remained of the branches. Just one living branch, such a small spindly effort, but it sported a dark red rose bud.
I couldn’t believe my eyes, not that I could see much at that point for my eyes were full of tears. It couldn’t be my favourite rose, could it?
 There was a label sticking out of the soil and I nervously turned it over to read the name. Sure enough, it said “Ena Harkness”. I had been looking for one for years without success, so where on earth did my family find it?
 We planted it with great care in a large tub, and every day I would visit it and wish it well. I made plans to get some rose fertiliser, for I knew it could do with a lot of TLC.

Every day I imagined the bud grew a little larger, then looser, unfolding the petals, until one day I saw it was starting to open. But would it smell the same as I remembered?
It took nearly a week to fully open and considering the lack of vigour in the plant, it didn’t look bad at all, and the magic perfume was exactly as I remembered.
Then one night it rained heavily, and the next morning I found the flower bent over, the weight of the water far too much for the skinny stem. I gently shook out the water, but the stem refused to straighten. I managed to prop it up, but I knew the petals would be falling soon.
It was a lovely surprise, all I hope is that it survives, gets stronger and blooms again…

Harkness Roses (a trading name of R. Harkness & Co. Ltd) are rose breeders based at Hitchin , Hertfordshire in England . [1] The nursery was founded in 1879 in Yorkshire . Early varieties included a sport of 'Heinrich Schultheis' introduced in 1893 as 'Mrs. Harkness' . In the 1950s, Harkness popularized 'Frensham' and 'Ena Harkness', both developed by amateur Albert Norman , and for a time 'Ena Harkness' was the most popular red hybrid tea rose in the world.
I found this article on the internet…
“It is about this time every year that I start to go a little weak at the knees. I’m sorry – I know everyone loves roses, but I have fallen in love with a particularly special rose. ‘Ena Harkness’, even though the name sounds a little old-ladyish, is a voluptuous, sensually-scented rose. The blooms are huge, so heavy they nod forwards a little. And there are plenty of them to go round.
It’s that old-world scent that catches me on a heady June evening, when the flowers are so full that I could burst with the wonder of it all. And then I deadhead them to keep the display going.
This is a climbing rose, and a vigorous one at that. I planted one last spring, and already it has thrown out huge branches, some 8ft long. I pruned it gently this winter, and still more branches came out.
It’s just as well really – this rose is designed to be grown so the flowers nod down at you from the top of a wall or trellis. And every evening when I get home, there they are, nodding at me gently and throwing their mind-blowing scent everywhere.”

©Anita Dawes

#Wordless Wednesday

A beautiful day . . . and wonderful memories . . .