Flora Reigada's Blog, page 30

Helping Hands Press: PLEASE help Flora Reigada choose the cover of her soon to released Romance novel!!!!!!

Helping Hands Press: PLEASE help Flora Reigada choose the cover of her soon to released Romance novel!!!!!!

HE SAYS HE LOVES HER, BUT DOES HE REALLY HAVE MURDER ON HIS MIND?

LOVE'S SWEETEST REVENGE: A WALK IN THE FOREST: WHO OR WHAT IS WATCHING?

Take a walk with Liz in New York State's lush but lonely forest, where unseen eyes are watching.

http://myhelpinghandspress.blogspot.com/2015/10/read-1st-chapter-of-flora-reigadas.html

PLEASE CAST YOUR VOTE

Which cover do you prefer for my upcoming romantic suspense book, soon to be published by Helping Hands Press? You're invited to cast your vote at the link below.


http://myhelpinghandspress.blogspot.com/2015/10/please-help-flora-reigada-choose-cover.html 

THE MAKING OF A VILLAIN

What would you do or say if a spouse said the following to you?
"I wasted my youth on you. You've let yourself go. Look at you! I don't even want you anymore!"   
That's what Steve Cavanaugh said to  . . .."
 http://myhelpinghandspress.blogspot.com/2015/10/the-making-of-villain-flora-reigada.html

TO HEAVEN AND BACK

Carlos took off on his roaring Harley-Davidson, never imagining the fate awaiting him. He stopped at an intersection, when the speeding pickup truck smashed into him, bulldozing Carlos and his motorcycle across the road.
In an instant, he went from bleeding on the asphalt, to a radiant meadow and the joyful welcome of loved ones who had gone before.This glimpse of heaven is described in "Second Chance" the first book in my "Castle in the Sun" romantic-suspense series, coming soon. While based on actual accounts, Carlos' encounter with the beyond, is fictional.
But what happened to me is more real than the stars in the sky. I describe this glimpse of heaven in my devotional, "Where Your Heart Meets God's." I would need the comfort it imparted, because heartbreak and rejection would soon crush me to the core.
The unfolding situation bowed my shoulders as I trudged to bed that night and fell into a troubled sleep.
Then suddenly, I found myself prostrate before a king on a throne and in the presence of love infinitely greater than any I had ever known. This love surrounded me like an embrace, yet it was not only external. Like the penetrating warmth from a fireplace, it reached into my every molecule. The love was more than emotion. It was alive and it had its source in the being on the throne.
Even though I could not see him, I never thought to ask why. Whatever happened, I knew this king had my best interests at heart and was committed to my care, like a father for his dear child. Kindness was at His core.
I immediately knew this King of Love was God.
As He spoke, tenderness filled His voice—a voice that in eons past, had thundered the universe into existence.
He issued two promises, one about my children, the other about the writing career of which I had always dreamed.
He issued a third, more personal promise as a wind lifted me into a tunnel that would transport me home. That's when I caught a parting glimpse of my surroundings, which seemed to be carved into a mountain. Massive stone walls illuminated in candlelight, were reminiscent of a grotto, or the holy hush of votive candles at a church altar.
Although my problems were still there when I awoke the next morning, I knew the love that had carried me to heaven and back, would never let go.
See Exodus 33:20
See 1 John 4:8
Read more about encounters with God in their many forms and how we can recognize them in our lives, in "Where Your Heart Meets God's, Find Your Personal Treasure." 
Paperback, $10.  https://www.amazon.com/dp/1728822378
E-book also available, ONLY $1.99. https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07K18VT33

Flora Reigada confesses to 'GRAMMATICAL CRIMES I HAVE COMMITTED'

During the final, critical moments of a football game, I leaped to my feet with the cheering crowd when the quarterback hit a home run. Not really—but that scenario illustrates something unbelievable about my writing career.


Flora Reigada confesses to 'GRAMMATICAL CRIMES I HAVE COMMITTED'

ANSWERING THE CALL

  I could see the door-to-door salesman from my window. He was large, his face was red with rage and he kept pounding on my door after I didn't respond. I was ready to . . . 

See more:
http://myhelpinghandspress.blogspot.com/2015/06/answering-call-flora-reigada.html

SMART PHONE BLUES

My husband could do amazing things with his smart phone: send and receive e-mail, go on facebook, check the weather, watch TV and so much more. He had the world at his fingertips and it made my little flip phone seem like yesterday's leftovers.
Before long, I was the proud owner of a brand new smart phone—and I learned how to turn it on!
The first place I brought it was to a women's retreat at my church, where I would be helping out. Before the retreat began, our group of about 20 gathered in a room for prayer. I was early and as the others straggled in, a friend said she needed to get her phone from her car to call her son.
I whipped out my prize possession. "You can use my phone."
She thanked me, took it and then stared at the blank screen. I quickly realized my friend knew no more about smart phones than me.
Drawing on my vast technical skills, I turned it on and some apps magically appeared.
Amazingly, there was one with a telephone receiver.
I pressed it. Nothing. I pressed it again. Still nothing. My friend pressed it too, with the same result. We must have pressed that thing a hundred times. Then viola! The screen changed and another phone app appeared. We pressed that one too, again and again. Eventually something clicked and a dial pad showed up.

Between the two of us, we managed to punch in the number and the call went through. But all our efforts were to no avail. My friend's son never answered because he didn't recognize my number on his caller I.D. He only answered when my friend went back to plan "A." She got her old-fashioned flip phone from her car and made the call.
My smart phone gave me more grief at the end of the day when I tried calling my husband to pick me up and take me home. When all attempts to call him failed, I decided to find a wall phone in the church. Yes, we still have a couple of these "dinosaurs."
As I made my way to one in the front office, another complication arose. At night, the halls were dark. Although light switches were on the wall, I didn't want to touch them, because one might set off a blasting alarm. Like most of life's lessons, I learned this one the hard way. Enough said.
At last, I groped my way to the phone, where I could barely make out the numbers. After they more or less came into focus, I couldn't get an outside line. Finally, I heard the welcome sound of a dial tone and was able to call home.
I have since learned how to better use my smart phone and I am taking life one app at a time.

SO, YOU WANNA BE A WRITER? YOU'LL NEED A TOUGH HIDE

It was "Sarah's" first time at our writers' critique group. Her eyes wide with enthusiasm, the young woman sat on the edge of her seat. She appeared poised to dazzle us by reading from the book she was writing. Certainly, she believed it destined to be a bestseller.
 Our group consisted of journalists, novelists, editors and beginners. We met regularly to evaluate and polish each other's writing. We divided the time, each reading aloud from a work in progress, then the rest of us offering our input. It was our policy to begin each critique with praise, before suggesting ways the story might be improved. This worked until Sarah joined us.
That meeting started out like all the others. Sitting in a circle, we each took our turn. Then Sarah's turn came.
Proudly clutching her manuscript, she cleared her throat and with a big smile, began reading. At first, I thought it was just me that none of it made any sense. There was no story or plot, only disconnected thoughts that went nowhere.
Sarah was still smiling when she finished and looked us over, as if waiting for the accolades. We were supposed to begin with praise, but none of us could think of even one positive thing to say. The room was as quiet as a tomb as Sarah's smile faded.
Kay, an editor known for her diplomacy, began. As gently as possible, she told our "newbie" the truth. Sarah did not take it well. Her eyes filled with tears.
"My husband said the story is wonderful," she blurted, sobbing.
She then ran from the room, slamming the door behind her. Kay followed, trying to smooth things over. But it was too late. The damage was done.
After that fateful day, I would occasionally bump into Sarah. I tried speaking with her and asked about her writing, but she always brushed me off. The contempt in her face revealed dislike for me and others in the critique group. We were not worthy of her time. Nor were our opinions worthy of her consideration.
That is sad because who knows where her writing could have gone, given some attention. What she read, might have been a germ of an idea that needed the guidance of more experienced writers.
Our critique group would have helped Sarah along her journey. And writing is always a journey, often one that is long and hard.
It is likely that Sarah's husband thought he was being kind by telling her what she wanted to hear, rather than what she needed to hear. She believed him and it impeded her development.
However, I know from experience that the soul of any serious writer is battle-scarred from criticism, harsh editors, brutal critiques and rejection of our work. Still, we go on. We keep writing, learning and hopefully, improving. Of necessity, we develop a thick skin like our friend below.

As far as I know, Sarah's work never went anywhere.
John Greenleaf Whittier put it well. "Of all sad words of tongue or pen, the saddest are these, 'It might have been."


Think that dream you had might mean something? Flora's devotional book explores the many expressions of God's voice.
https://www.amazon.com/Where-Your-Heart-Meets-Gods/dp/1622085868
Liz hopes to forget her troubles in the beauty of the forest. She doesn't see the bear until it is too late. How could this dangerous situation possibly lead to a hidden locket, a castle--and romance? It all unfolds in "Love's Sweetest Revenge."
https://www.amazon.com/Loves-Sweetest-Revenge-Flora-Reigada/dp/1622085884
Coming soon: Liz and Carlos plan to marry beneath the boughs of St. Augustine Florida's legendary Love Tree. But as an approaching hurricane rustles palms and pushes waves, Steve's escalating threats forecast trouble.
https://www.amazon.com/Love-Obsession-Castle-Sun-Book-ebook/dp/B01M1O6HC4/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1475772880&sr=8-2&keywords=flora%20reigada