Traci M. Sanders's Blog, page 49

Antiques and Murder

 Entertaining story for those who don’t have a lot of time

Antiques and Murder: A Romantic Mystery Novella

This was a fun little romantic mystery with a refreshingly unique story theme. The main character, Jemma is a true-to-form Georgia girl who can curse like a sailor and pray for forgiveness all in one sentence, and look adorable doing it. Being a Georgia girl myself, I delighted in hearing the names of some familiar places and themes that are indigenous to my peachy state. The characters were well-crafted. The plot was engaging and delivered at an enjoyable pace.

I would definitely read more from this author.

 

 

You might be an author if…

You’ve ever lost a beautiful dialogue or paragraph … because you forgot to hit ‘save’. Or you hit ‘save’ at the wrong time!

 

 

A World Without Water

 Rhyming done right!

A World Without Water

As an early educator, I am always on the lookout for children’s books that are engaging and educational; but as a mother and children’s author as well, I’ve learned that these types of books are not always easy to find. I applaud this author for taking an important global topic and breaking it down into a short, entertaining story that children of all ages can understand and relate to.

Many in the children’s book industry claim that rhyming books are taboo and only authors such as Dr. Seuss can successfully publish them. In my nearly twenty of years of teaching little ones, I can attest that this is simply not true. Children adore rhyming books and remember them much easier than those without rhymes. This author has eloquently proven this untrue as well. His rhymes are fun and engaging–everything a children’s story should be.

With its powerful message, colorful illustrations, and fluid writing, this book should be on the shelf of every parent or caregiver of young children.

 

 

 

Chumbalina the Plump Princess

 A well-written story with a powerful message for young girls!

Chumbalina The Plump Princess

In a world where women constantly focus on looking younger, slimmer, and prettier, this story geared toward young girls was a refreshing change of pace. My ten year old daughter adored it. Admittedly, I was a bit apprehensive that the story line would encourage young girls to indulge in unhealthy eating habits for the sake of ‘loving themselves on the inside’. I personally teach my daughter that what really matters is on the inside, but I also teach her healthy eating habits as well, for the sake of living longer and keeping her body strong and vibrant. Therefore, I was pleasantly surprised by the turn of events in this tale and how the main female character came into her own understanding of the importance of a healthy relationship with her food and her body.

No matter the size or age, every young girl will love Chumbalina’s story.

 

Here’s the trailer:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I need votes, please!!

Hello, friends!

I have entered ‘Unsevered’ into a book competition with Books Go Social for December. It’s an awesome online book club for authors and readers on Facebook. Voting is easy:

Step 1: Visit http://booksgosocialdaily.com/

Step 2: Register as a valid voter by email – you can unsubscribe at any time no questions asked. (But you may reconsider; they offer invaluable advice for authors each month and great book recommendations for readers.)

Step 3: Visit the Homepage and click the ‘up arrow’ to the left of my book, ‘Unsevered’.

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All voters are automatically entered to win $100 cash and a Kindle HD – two separate entries.

I appreciate the support!

 

 

 

You might be an author if…

You’ve ever written the perfect story … in your head, but it falls apart when it gets to the paper.

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You might be an author if…

You’ve ever rewritten a line several times just so you didn’t have to decide if the period goes inside or outside of the quotation marks.

 

 

 

You might be an author if…

You procrastinate tackling your ‘TBW’ (to be written) list by indulging in your ‘TBR’ (to be read) list!

 

 

 

You might be an author if…

Family functions are really just secret character auditions

Holiday Hearts – a short Christmas romance

My feet shuffle through the pastry section, probably annoying every shopper behind me as always. For a split second, my hand reaches out to grab a fresh batch of the glazed doughnuts—Harry’s favorite. A jolt of pain surges through my heart and I pull my hand back to my side at a languid pace. It’s been ten years, and there are still moments when I imagine he’s still alive, waiting at home for those doughnuts. Sadness overwhelms me when I regret not letting him have them more often.

All those years of making sure he ate healthy, took his vitamins, exercised regularly, and visited the doctor promptly. Wasted years. Wasted time. Futile life-sustaining efforts that couldn’t compete with the transfer truck that took him from me on his way to work that fateful day.

The store is infused with a piney-cinnamon scent in preparation for the impending Christmas holidays. Another year. Another Christmas alone. Sure the kids and grandkids will come by on Christmas Eve to open their presents. My heart will skip a beat as they tear into their treasures. Family members will take turns sitting in the oversized, plush, brown recliner to my left as they sit to eat, then get up to mingle some more. But it will never again cradle the body of the one it once belonged to—my Harry.

I take in my reflection as I pass the freezer doors. My hair shows much more salt than pepper now. And my once bright blue eyes have darkened almost to the hue of a midnight sky. Sure I slap on a happy smile when my friends and family are around, but Harry took a piece of my soul with him that day. The piece that represented the true joy in me. He was the light in my eyes.

I make my way to the meat section and bend over a bit to check the price on one New York strip steak. A voice from behind me interrupts my calculations.

“Sarah? Is that you?”

I turn to meet with soft, blue eyes and a smile that stretches from ear to ear on a broad-shouldered man sporting a full head of silver hair. He’s wearing a white apron and plastic gloves, holding a rump roast in his hands. I recall that smile right away. It’s the same one that used to greet me right before a kiss, following every Friday night football game he won in high school. We were inseparable for three years, but decided to start seeing other people in our senior year.

“Bill Martin. How’ve you been?”

“I’m doing okay, I guess.  The holidays are always the hardest, you know?”

An empathetic smile paints my face. “I understand. I heard about Martha passing a few years back. I’m sorry I didn’t call to send my condolences.” Now a veil of shame replaces my smile.

“I reckon I could say the same. I was saddened to hear about Harry. He was a good man.”

My voice cracks as I reply, “Yes, he was. Thank you.”

“Listen, if you don’t have any other plans for Christmas Day, you’re welcome to join me. I’ll be at the coffee shop at 14th and Franklin St. It’s the only place open that day. They don’t serve all the traditional holiday food, but they make a heck of a pecan pie.”

Yep that’s Bill. Always the eager beaver. “You spend Christmas Day in a café? What about your family?”

“Well, Martha and I didn’t have children, or siblings, so it was just the two of us, always.” His head lowers for a moment.

“Oh, Bill, I didn’t realize.” I pause then continue, “I guess life goes on … until we have time to stop and think about it, whether we want to or not, right? Listen, I appreciate the invite, but I’m not sure I’m ready for something like that.”

“Come on, Sarah. It’s just coffee and pie. It can’t hurt anything. Don’t you deserve a little Christmas joy?”

Tears spill from my eyes as I stand there frozen.

“I’m sorry, Sarah. I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s just so good to see you after all these years. You look great. I’d love to spend some time catching up on everything, for old times’ sake.”

I can’t speak. Butterflies are dancing a ballet in my stomach. I haven’t been overwhelmed by these magical creatures in a long time.

Bill pulls a business card from his pocket, scribbles some numbers on it and hands it to me. “Just think about it, okay.”

I take the card, nod my head and smile. Before I turn to walk away, he returns the gesture and says, “If I don’t see you again, Merry Christmas, Sarah. I do hope you get everything you wish for this year. Just remember, as hard as it is to accept, and as much as it hurts to miss them, we’re still here.”

He returns to his meat counter and I maneuver my cart of twelve items toward the check-out counter. I always use the ‘fifteen or less’ aisle. It’s all one needs when shopping for just one person.

Bill’s words continue to reverberate in my ears as the days pass, the kids and grandkids come and go, and Christmas Day arrives. My holiday music plays in the background and candles illuminate the living room—an ambience I create—a poor attempt to fill the space no longer taken up by those I love.

I walk to my bedroom and shuffle through the closet. On the far left in the back, I spot a lovely red dress with rhinestone buttons down the front. It has sat waiting for a special occasion, and it’s high time it gets one.

I throw some hot curlers in my hair, touch up my makeup, and slip into the dress. The long sleeves will keep me warm on this cold day in Vermont. I stick with my flats. I don’t want to break my neck trying to walk in heels. Those days are over, but Bill was right, I’m still here.

One by one, I blow out the candles then kill the music. The house is still and quite again. I take a look around then lock the door behind me. As I sit in my car, waiting for it to warm up, my GPS system springs to life asking, “Where would you like to go today, Sarah?”

My reply is simple but significant.

“14th and Franklin Street, please.”

 

© Traci Sanders 2015