Inglath Cooper's Blog, page 2

Natural Beauty with Coconut Oil Uses

I could be a walking test market for most of the products that have touted their benefits in major magazines and on TV.  It’s hard to resist those hooks – makes fine lines and wrinkles disappear, smoother skin overnight!

I’ve found plenty of lotions and creams that I like, but I finally found one that I love. A natural beauty remedy. Coconut oil. Just regular old made by nature coconut oil.

I had read about some coconut oil uses in nutrition books and articles over the years. But I hadn’t thought about using it for skin care until I ran across a jar in a health food store labeled for skin and hair and decided to give it a try.  Coconut oil at regular room temperature is a solid like Crisco.

Every winter, my skin gets a case of the extra dry blues.  Still, it seemed like a crazy idea.  Straight oil?  But the first night I rubbed it onto my face, I could almost hear my skin sigh.  It soaked right in, and my face didn’t look like I’d just globbed oil on it.  It looked. . .nourished.

And so I used it again the next night.  And the next.  I kept thinking I would reach a point where my face would say enough, but that wasn’t the case.  I now use it every night as my main heavy moisturizer.

At some point, I considered other coconut oil benefits and decided to try it as an overall body moisturizer and bought a big jar for the tub. I apply it while in the bath, and it chases Winter dry off with a big stick. Just be willing to towel the tub clean of oil when you’re done.

You can also use coconut oil for hair conditioning in the same way you would use a conditioning mask. Apply it to your hair and leave on for an hour or so before shampooing it out.

I love the idea of feeding my skin something that I would also eat! This is the one I like to use.

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Gleeson

 

We let our Gleeson go today.

It was time. He’d been telling us for the past few days that he was too tired to go on, but it’s such a hard place to get to, accepting that letting go is the only choice.

We adopted Gleeson after he was pulled from our county shelter by the Franklin County Humane Society. He seemed old at the time, but I think he’d had such poor care that he had aged early. Most of his teeth had to be pulled, and his two back legs were crooked and had never been surgically addressed.

But none of those things dimmed Gleeson’s joy for life. Even with his crooked little legs, he would run to keep up with the other dogs when it was time to get out the treat jar. And he was a constant reminder to me that we don’t have to be perfect to know happiness and make others feel happy too.

At one point our family here on the farm included forty-two dogs, all rescues. Losing Gleeson today leaves us with twenty-five. Letting so much love into our lives means we’ve had to know a lot of loss, a lot of grief. But I can’t imagine not having had their love, and I’m so grateful that each of them has left the world knowing without a doubt that they are loved.

My belief is that Gleeson is now free to be young again with his best buddy Rosie who went on before him. See you again one day, sweet boy.

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Rosalind James – Featured Author Interview

 

Welcome to Rosalind James, the first author to be featured in our new interview series with bestselling authors I really think you’ll enjoy meeting.

Rosalind is a much-loved author of contemporary romance and romantic suspense novels. Read on for intimate insights into Rosalind’s journey as an author and other juicy tidbits from her personal life. (There’s a great dog story in the interview!)

To receive a FREE copy of her eBook JUST FOR YOU (Escape to New Zealand)  click here.

And thank you to Michele Walsh for putting together this great interview with Rosalind!

 

How old were you when you started writing, Rosalind?

I was in my fifties. The only fiction I’d ever written was a story about Betty Bacillus for a class assignment when I was nine. I’m the analytical type, and the most unlikely novelist ever.

What inspired you to become a writer?

The New Zealand All Blacks (the country’s international rugby team). I’d always made up daydreams in my head—long, elaborate ones full of dialogue and romance—but I just thought of them as, well, daydreams, a distraction and a waste of time.

But I was living in New Zealand during the buildup to the Rugby World Cup (which was held in New Zealand in 2011), and I became as entranced with the sport as I already was with the country, and especially with its players. They’re the ultimate national heroes and New Zealand’s most famous export, but they’re also expected to be “regular Kiwi blokes” and to behave well at all times, on and off the field. They say, “You’re an All Black 24/7,” and they mean it.

As the World Cup went on and I saw how invested the entire country was in the team’s success and how proud the people were of “our boys,” I started having one of the daydreams I’d had all my life, about this fictional captain of the All Blacks, and an overworked American woman who comes to New Zealand for a much-needed vacation and finds the love of a lifetime—and a new life.

(By the way—Google “All Blacks haka.” Short shorts, strong men, and enough testosterone to power a battleship.)

With that inspiration, I somehow—still not sure why—started writing my first novel two days after the Rugby World Cup final (which New Zealand WON), and within a week, I was possessed. I was working 30 hours a week remotely (marketing), but I was staying up into the wee hours every morning writing. I knew that this was all I wanted to do. I finished the book within six weeks, and then I, the most risk-averse woman in the world, quit my job and wrote two more books in the next six months. I never intended to write a series. I just thought of two more players I wanted to write about, and I wrote their stories. It was like writing came and chose me and carried me away. That’s the only way I can describe it. I had no reason to think I could make a success of it, but somehow, I did.

How do you balance your personal life with your writing time?

Ha. Ask my husband. I don’t.

Do you have a family? How big is your household?

I have two grown sons. Very grateful to them and my husband for letting me know what makes men tick! I love writing men.

Who is your favorite author? Why?

It’s Susan Elizabeth Phillips’ fault that I write. She didn’t put out new books fast enough. I couldn’t find enough of the kind of book I enjoyed most, so I made up my own story, and then I wrote it down so I could read it. That’s still what I do. Something with some humor, some heart, and maybe even a few tears, but always a happy ending.

Which is your favorite work of your own and why? 

First book where I actually thought: this is good: JUST FOR NOW (Escape to New Zealand), my third book. About a tough rugby player, the team’s “hard man,” who’s a widower with two kids and a soft marshmallow center, and his temporary nanny. It’s my most feel-good book, and I fell in love with Finn! Book I’m proudest to have written: HOLD ME CLOSE (Paradise, Idaho). Similar in some ways, in that it’s got a kid (I love writing kids) and a heroine who’s a widow. A more serious book, about loss and recovery and picking up the pieces of your life and going on. It’s a book about courage.

Which of your books would you recommend that new readers start with?

I write different kinds of things, because I need to challenge myself. If you like feel-good escape: JUST THIS ONCE, first New Zealand book. If you like suspense: CARRY ME HOME, the first Paradise, Idaho book, and my first real-deal romantic suspense. If you like sexy: FIERCE, my first Not Quite a Billionaire book (which was a total kick to write and also features a New Zealand Maori hero, just because they’re about the hottest thing going.)

Which novel was most difficult to complete? Why and how did you overcome the difficulty?

Probably HOLD ME CLOSE. I had to go to the hard places for that book. The way I overcome difficulties is just to keep going, which is what Kayla does in the story.

Where else have you traveled that had an impact on your writing?

I grew up in north Idaho, which is the setting for the first book in my Kincaids series, WELCOME TO PARADISE, on a historical reenactment reality show. (I know—weird, huh? So much fun), as well as the setting for my Paradise, Idaho romantic suspense series. I’ve also lived in Australia, most recently in Sydney, and Australia is completely awesome, too. Sydney’s going to make an appearance in the second Not Quite a Billionaire book, up next.

Tell us about your Labrador Retriever, Charlie? Is Charlie featured in any of your books?

Funny you should ask. I’m actually writing a book right now (TAKE ME BACK, Book 4 in my Paradise, Idaho series from Montlake Romance) that features a thinly disguised Charlie. His name is Cletus and he’s a golden retriever rather than a lab, but he’s Charlie.

The funniest thing about Charlie is that he LOVES FRUIT. Apples and carrots (OK, not a fruit) are his favorite foods in the world. He can hear you taking an apple from the bowl on the kitchen counter all the way from the living room, and he’ll be right there hoping for the core. We have an apple tree in the back yard, and we noticed that it didn’t have any fruit on its lower branches. Then we caught Charlie jumping up on his hind legs and picking apples! He does the same thing with our fig tree, and when it’s plum season in Berkeley, he’d go for four walks a day if you’d take him, just to sidewalk surf.

How did the experience of living in New Zealand contribute to your success as an author?

New Zealand is the whole reason I started writing. I was that typical American woman—overworked, overstressed, working mom. When I went to live first in Australia and then, especially, in New Zealand, it was like this whole different way to live opened up to me, where “quality of life” wasn’t just a phrase, where people spent their weekends with their families, on boats or at the beach, living life. Where who you are as a person matters more than what you do for a living, and where humility and integrity and hard work and teamwork really are the most prized virtues. I guess you could say I love New Zealand! Living in that beautiful country inspired me to start writing my first book, to finish it and quit my job, and to change my life completely. I can almost literally say that I owe New Zealand my life.

After I’d written JUST THIS ONCE, when I was about to leave New Zealand after 15 months and so sad about it, I went to dinner with a good friend, one of the first people to read my book. She asked, “Say you make fifty thousand dollars from writing next year”—which I thought was IMPOSSIBLE—“What will you do with it?” And I answered, without any thought at all, “Come back here.” I’ve been able to do that, two to three months out of every year, because of my writing. And that’s magic.

I’d just say, to anyone reading this—you never know what will happen when you follow your dreams.

Thank you for having me! I appreciate the chance to share what I love to do best in the world.

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Thank you, Rosalind, for taking the time to give us a peek into your writing life! Wonderful readers, please visit Rosalind’s website. And don’t forget to download a free copy of Just For You by joining her mailing list here. Check out the contest below!

Enter for a chance to win a $15 Amazon.com gift card!

1. Join Rosalind James’ mailing list for a FREE download of JUST FOR YOU by clicking here.
2. Pop over to my Facebook Page and tell us: What is the name of the character at the beginning of Chapter One? https://www.facebook.com/inglathcooperbooks/

Post your answer there, and we’ll choose a random winner on Monday at 9 PM EST!

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Meeting James Patterson

Not my best hair day.

 

You know how you sometimes imagine meeting someone whose work you admire or books you’ve read? Like James Patterson?

Not sure I imagined that I would ever actually cross paths with him, but today, I did. And I just wanted to let you know that whatever methodology the world uses to keep us humble, it’s in full working order.

I was at Frederick Fekkai getting my hair blonded as my girls like to call it. Jerome, the very hunky French Jerome, who so kindly blondes my hair, asked me if I knew who was sitting beside me getting a haircut. I glanced over just as he said, “James Patterson.”

Of course, I was very excited about the possibility of telling Mr. Patterson how much I’ve enjoyed his books, but my enthusiasm was immediately dampened by the fact that I was already well on my way to alien transformation with dozens of silver foils sticking out of my hair.

I have to tell you that the younger me would not have drawn his attention to this less than glamorous version of myself. But the me of today knows that a missed opportunity doesn’t usually present itself again. So I tried to picture myself with my regular hair and leaned over and told him how much I’ve enjoyed his books.

It’s always a wonderful surprise when a celebrity turns out to be so much nicer than you might have expected. I once saw a woman in a restaurant make a complete nincompoop of herself with Kenny Rogers. That pretty much cured me of ever wanting to overstep personal space boundaries.

Surprisingly, Mr. Patterson didn’t seem too taken aback by my plethora of foils. He didn’t pull out sunglasses or squint. I told him I had taken his online Master class and got a lot from it. He was quite gracious, and we went on to chat about some of his favorite authors and a new character he’s creating: a wealthy French detective who works in New York City.

So. The moral of the story? Perfect moments rarely exist outside of novels or movies. Real life usually presents such serendipities, as my mom likes to call them, with some freckles and rough edges. I’ll go with that. Otherwise, we just miss out.

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My new most favorite Facebook Page belongs to Esther the ...

My new most favorite Facebook Page belongs to Esther the Wonder Pig. I am her devoted fan and look forward to her funny posts coming through my feed each day.

Her dads make me smile every time I see their obvious adoration of her. Here’s the one that made me laugh today:

Oh, and this one:

Here’s Esther’s story from her bio:

She even has a book coming out, which you can Pre-order on Amazon.com here.

Sweetest face ever! Add her smile to your day by liking her Facebook Page! Hugs and kisses, Esther!

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Fences: Sneak Peek

A peek at the next book in the Smith Mountain Lake series: Fences!

Jillie

. . .The car comes out of nowhere, racing up behind me, its front end almost touching the Mercedes’ bumper. I touch the brake again, and the car falls back a short distance, then shoots around me in a black flash, even though the double yellow lines indicate a no-passing zone.

Thirty yards ahead, the car slams to a stop in the middle of the road and swings around at a ninety-degree turn, tires squalling.

I fumble for the door lock, fear a sudden, choking knot in my chest.

I’m in the middle of nowhere, not a house in sight. A black 911 with New York plates now blocks both lanes in front of me. It’s hardly the kind of car someone who needs to steal a vehicle would be driving.

I grip the wheel until my knuckles lose their color. I’ll go around it. The shoulder is steep, but it beats waiting to see what this lunatic has in mind. A few moments ago, I’d foolishly wondered what it would be like to leave it all behind. Now, adrenaline fuels an undeniable rush of survival instinct.

I stomp on the accelerator, but just then the car door opens, and a man climbs out. The headlights catch his profile. I slam on the brakes again, feeling the blood leave my face. The front bumper of the Mercedes stops just short of his knees. I sit, frozen to the seat, my hands glued to the steering wheel.

Disbelief weighs like a rock on my chest.

How many times have I wondered what it would be like to see him again? Imagined what I would say to him?

In what feels like slow motion, I unlock the door and get out, barely aware of my feet touching the ground.

“Are you trying to kill yourself?” he asks, walking toward me.

The voice is a surprise. Deep and even, it is the voice of a man, not the boy I remember.

“Apparently so,” he says when I don’t answer. He slides inside my car and pulls it over to the shoulder of the road. He gets back out again, my keys in his hand.

His highhandedness strikes a nerve. “Give me back my keys,” I say.

Again he ignores me, tossing them up and catching them in his palm, before turning and making his way back to his own car.

I stand there for a moment, feeling as if some ridiculous gauntlet has been thrown.

The taillights from his car throw him into silhouette. He is as tall as I remember, but his shoulders are wider than they had once been. His slightly wavy hair touches the collar of his light blue shirt. He opens the car door and slides inside. “Get in, Jillie,” he says without looking at me. “We need to talk.”

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False Diagnosis: Betrayal of Trust

Whistle-blower: How doctor uncovered nightmare

It’s a rare thing for a person in our world today not to have been affected by a cancer diagnosis. Friends, loved ones, even personal experience. It’s a dreaded word, a dreaded diagnosis.

This story of a doctor’s intentional false diagnosis of cancer and use of chemo drugs to build his own financial empire might push the limits of suspension of disbelief even in a novel. Impossible to believe then that it could happen in real life.

But without one doctor following his own suspicions and being willing to step out and voice the wrongs he thought were being done, patients of Dr. Farid Fata might still be suffering the worst kind of betrayal.

On some level, we all know that evil exists. We see evidence of it on the news every time we turn on the TV. But this kind of evil goes to the soul of what it means to be a human being.

Imagine a doctor telling a patient that he or she has cancer when it’s not actually true? Imagine that person’s world starting to crumble before the doctor’s very eyes, and he has no problem witnessing the pain because he stands to make a small fortune off the lengthy chemo treatments ahead for the patient?

At some point along the way, that doctor’s soul had to leave his own body. Or maybe it had never been there in the first place. Although it is hard to believe a man could go into medicine without some hope of helping humanity. Maybe the truth is the system set a honey trap of unlimited ability to earn money from the misery of others and greed rooted out any earlier motivations.

It is tempting to focus on the evil of one man after reading this story. But I think I’m going to make my take away the good of the doctor who saw something wrong and stepped forward even with the uncertainty of how it would affect his own career.

Good had to prevail. It’s the only way that life makes any kind of sense. Thank you, Dr. Soe Maunglay for being the voice of good.

Read the article Whistle-blower: How doctor uncovered nightmare.

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Joey + Rory = True Love

Joey Feek died yesterday.

Four words. How can they possibly summarize the fact that the world has been robbed of one of the good ones?

Did I know Joey?

No. Not personally.

My awareness of who she was began in 2008 when I went to Nashville for a series of songwriting workshops. One of the workshops I attended was given by Rory Feek, then known only to me as a songwriter who’d had songs cut by Collin Raye and Blake Shelton.

That was certainly impressive, but his Nashville success wasn’t what struck me most during his session with those of us there to learn about songwriting. What struck me about Rory Feek was the way he spoke of his wife during that session.

He talked about her a good bit that day. Told us that she was a singer and that she had an incredible voice.

I write stories about people and love, and I was instantly taken with how clearly Rory Feek adored the woman who was his wife. I thought at the time that she must be really special and that they were fortunate to have found each other.

It wasn’t until later that I saw a picture of her somewhere and could see how beautiful she was. They were a compelling couple, Rory in his faded overalls, Joey the dark-haired beauty by his side. And I remember hearing of their audition on the show Can You Duet and the way their careers took off from there.

It was easy to want to root for them. I read about their farm in Tennessee and the admirable life they’d built there together. They were just obviously made for each other.

And so when I learned of Joey’s illness some months ago, I just felt struck with sadness. How could this beautiful young mother with so much to teach her precious little girl Indiana be losing her battle with cancer? She wasn’t even forty years old.

I thought about Rory, the man I’d listened to in Nashville who had spoken of her with such convicted adoration. And I could not begin to imagine his grief.

Like so many others, I’ve followed Rory’s blog This Life I Live where he has detailed the heartbreaking journey he and his lovely wife and child have been on. If you want a real-life illustration of what true love is, read Rory’s This Life I Live.

May God bless and keep you, Rory, Joey and Indiana. True love never dies. You’ll be together again one day.

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How to Bring Memories to Life

Food has the power to bring to mind wonderful memories of our childhood.

When I was growing up, both of my grandmothers were incredible cooks. There were certain dishes each of them fixed that I can see and smell to this day just by thinking of them. A lot of those dishes we had on Sunday afternoons when we would visit their houses after church. Mashed potatoes. Creamed corn. Homemade biscuits.

My Grandma Holland’s Blueberry Delight topped our favorites among her desserts. It had a graham cracker crust, a cream cheese center and a blueberry topping, and she would always take it to our family reunions in the summertime.

Her rice pudding with its meringue topping is still the best I’ve ever had, and I can see her putting it together on a Sunday morning when my sister and I were spending the weekend. She would have the radio on a local station that played Bluegrass gospel, singing along to Amazing Grace, Just As I Am and other classic hymns as she happily prepared Sunday lunch.

Every fall, my Grandma Johnson made fried apple pies in a plug-in electric skillet. She would roll the dough for the crust thin and fill each pie with cinnamon-laced cooked apples which we bought from a nearby orchard in the fall. She would press the edges into a fan with a fork before putting them in the orange pan.  The smell was heavenly, the taste equally so.

And I’ve yet to find a rival for her biscuits. She started making them when she was just a young girl in a special bowl that belonged to her mother. I still don’t know how they always came out  so perfectly light and fluffy from her oven.

Over the years, I’ve tried to learn how to make some of these dishes the way my grandmas made them, although mine will never be as good. But each and every time I make one of them, the smell, the taste, brings back to life many wonderfully sweet moments of my childhood.  And that’s a place I love to visit, even in a memory.

What are some of the dishes that bring back wonderful memories for you? Tell us here!

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Falcon Needs Help

 

I’m Falcon, and I really need your help. I don’t know why, but I’ve been left at the Roanoke Regional Center for Animal Protection, and I think there’s a very good chance I won’t get to leave here. I haven’t had the best of care, and so I’m told I’m heart worm positive. Some nice people are working together to fund my treatment for this. What I need now is a rescue or a foster.

Some of the volunteers here say I’m a hunk, but I like to lean up against my person. I don’t want to die here. I’m a young boy and would love to have a person who could love me and I could love back. Watch my video below and you’ll see that I’m a calm guy.

 

Falcon

I have so much to give if someone will give me a chance to show it. Please click on this Facebook link to see the post about me and find out how you can help me.

With hope,

Falcon

 

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