Friday, January 24, 2014

FRIDAY FEATURE ~ A Tattered Love By Nickie Seidler

Title: A Tattered Love
Author: Nickie Seidler
Genre: Suspenseful Romance



Synopsis:

Riley Miller wants nothing more than to leave her past behind and never speak of it again. The damage caused by what has happened has made her build walls keeping people out. Starting over isn't easy. After a move to Cape Cod to escape the dark and haunting secrets, she meets Abby and Evan. Instantly becoming best friends, shy and quiet Riley tries to break out of her shell with the help from her new friends. Just as she begins to settle into a comfortable routine, Riley meets Evan's friend Dustin.
Life as Riley knows it will never be the same.
Looking for love is the last thing on Dustin’s to do list, if it’s even on there at all. Living with some significant secrets of his own, Dustin tries to keep from getting in too deep with anyone. But, he finds himself drawn to the timid, yet stunning Riley. Can they both accept the past and develop a relationship? Or will the skeletons in both of their closets keep them from ever moving on?
Purchase Links

Meet The Author



Born and raised in the Chicago-land area, Nickie Seidler is an up and coming young author. Her new-found dream of being a writer has led to the completion of her first book "A Lucky Second Chance". Nickie is married, and when not writing, enjoys cooking new recipes for them to try, water aerobics, car racing and spending quality time with family and friends. She is currently writing her third book to be released early 2014.

Author Links


Excerpts







Dream Cast:
Praise from others
"A Tattered Love is captivating! The love Riley and Dustin share is
indescribable. They have to decide if going off feelings, attraction, and love will work when everything else doesn't..." Author B. E. Laine
"A Tattered Love is a raw emotional journey of love and passion.  Riley loves Dustin but feels like the challenges they face could destroy them both.  Dustin knows his life includes Riley but has demons that must be faced.  Together these two personify the belief that love and faith conquer all." Author Brandy Dorsch
"I never knew what would happen next. When I thought I had it figured
out,  the author would surprise me with another twist. If you love angst and tension filled books then this is a must read." Author Glenna Maynard

Wednesday, January 22, 2014

WISH FOR IT WEDNESDAY ~ Love & Deception by Chantel Rhondeau

Love & Deception (Agents in Love ~ Book 1)


Author: Chantel Rhondeau
Genre: Romantic Suspense


What if everything you believed in was a lie?

In hiding for six years, Carlie Hollis is tired of running. All she wants is to stay in Sayle, Washington and make a success of her struggling delicatessen. Because of her past, she’s suspicious of anyone who takes an interest in her.
Nick Kendall works as a spy in a top-secret government operation, protecting innocent people from danger. Sent to Sayle on a mission to infiltrate a suspected terrorist organization, Nick finds himself attracted to Carlie, an alleged key player of the group.

Despite her misgivings, Carlie develops feelings for the handsome stranger, believing he is there to help her. But when Nick finds evidence of her guilt, he’s given orders to do the unthinkable—eliminate the target, one he's fallen hopelessly in love with. Will he follow orders...or become hunted himself?

CONTENT WARNING: Violence, language, sizzling love scenes.
Agents in Love Series:
Book 1 - Love & Deception (October 2013)
Book 2 - Love & Redemption (Spring 2014)
Book 3 - Love & Compromise (Fall 2014)
More to come...



Buy it now:

Kindle Edition:
Amazon: US | UK | 
Apple iStore:  US | UK | AU | CA
Barnes & Noble
Mark it as "to read" on Goodreads

Excerpt:

Silence rushed to fill the space between them. Desperate to keep the conversation moving, Carlie jerked her chin in the direction of the chandelier. “I love how big that is.”
“Really?” Nick lifted one eyebrow and his lips quirked at the corners. “I’ve heard size is important.”
Embarrassment burned all the way up her neck and face. “I meant the chandelier. I wasn’t saying...” Holy crap. She was supposed to flirt. Another woman would have come up with a witty comeback, but Carlie had nothing.
He laughed and reached across the table, patting her hand. “Relax. I figured that’s what you meant. Just trying to lighten the mood.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be so nervous.”
“It’s okay, but you really don’t need to be. I don’t bite. Well,” he glanced at the tablecloth briefly before looking at her again, heat in his gaze, “not on the first date.”
“I...you...” Carlie gasped for a few seconds and then sighed. Shelley would be so disappointed in her. “I’m not good at this.”
“You’re not trying to tell me you don’t date much, are you?”
“Well, actually, I don’t.” She took a sip of water. The truth was the wrong path to take here. Guys wanted worldly, experienced girls who knew how to have a good time.
Flirt!
She winked at him, hoping it didn’t look like she had something in her eye. “At least, not men as sexy as you.”
He winked back. “And big, don’t forget big.”

Author Bio

Chantel once thought a great mystery or fantasy book with strong romantic themes was the highest level of reading bliss. After reading her first romantic suspense novel, she never looked back. Before long, the need to create her own stories took over. She spend her days in the clinical profession of medical transcriptionist, but her passion is in the hours spent with her characters in the evenings.

She live in the western United States, and when she's not writing she love playing cards with her family, bowling on leagues, and snuggling with her lazy kitties.
Want to contact Chantel?
Website: http://www.chantelrhondeau.com
Cyber Stalk on Facebook
Follow on Twitter 

Check out all Chantel's available titles: http://www.chantelrhondeau.com/p/my-available-titles.html

Monday, January 20, 2014

MUST READ MONDAYS ~ Daytona Dead by Karen H. Vaughan


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DAYTONA DEAD
by
KAREN H. VAUGHAN

INTERVIEW



Where do your ideas come from?
Mostly inside my head daring me to write them or ideas from friends
What is your favorite line from one of your books?
From my w.i.p. DEAD MEN DON’T SWING –Laura: Stella, I know you consider yourself a smart woman but right now you are down to two brain cells and they are limping.
Do you have any favorite characters?
Laura Hamilton-Fitz and Dave Meecham from DAYTONA DEAD
What character from any of your books would you invite out to dinner? Why?
I would like to sit down with Shelley from DEAD COMIC STANDING. She is funny and talented and smart to boot
What are your hopes and dreams for your future in the writing world?
Entertain people with my work and make a bit of money doing it.
How do you define success as an author?
Have people asking you for more stories.
Favorite writing quote?
Not sure I have a favorite quote.
What are you working on now?
Book four of my series is front and center then there are some other romances I am working on.
Book Excerpt from DAYTONA DEAD ~
Prologue --Blood on the Grille 
The moon was high and a thousand stars appeared in the Florida sky. The sunset had been glorious, a flaming orange glow with pink undertones.
Lou had taken up photography as a hobby since moving to the Daytona Beach area. Lou, a Canadian, had been lured to the area by a guy on the Dudes seeking Dudes website. Having broken up with his long time love, Richard, he had been itching to leave Toronto behind, along with a broken heart and ten years of bad memories. His marriage to Laura had died on Speaker’s Corner and it was time to leave the crap and the cold behind, in favour of a warmer climate and palm trees.  Ironically, Laura, the ex, had written him a glowing letter of reference for his work visa. He had applied via an online job search engine, and told his internet paramour he was heading to Florida to make a go of his career and a new life south of the Mason Dixon Line.
So today after putting in an eight hour shift, he went home and grabbed a shower and changed into beach shorts and a clean T-shirt sporting the slogan Just Grill Me. He had invested in a Digital SLR for taking some great landscape shots to post on Face book. He found that he loved photography and if his life as a chef sputtered, now he had a back-up plan.
Before meeting up with his new guy, Gary, he headed off to the beach to take some shots of the area. While Daytona was not the prettiest beach in Florida, Lou found some of the scenery to be rough, yet photo-worthy.  He was leaving the beach when he spotted what looked to be a vintage 1940’s Chevy, black as the abyss. The car looked like something out of a film noir gangster flick. Either way the car was a real beauty. He set up a few shots and started shooting. He didn’t stay long as this was encroaching on a seedier part of town where hookers plied their trade and bums wandered around with liquor bottles and another night of brown bagging their hooch and begging before passing out in an alleyway.
He was on his tenth picture when a gravelly voice yelled out behind him.
“Just what the hell do you think you’re doing, asshole?”
Lou jumped back at the sound and turned around to see the meanest looking S.O.B. he had set eyes on, since his father’s last drinking binge a few years earlier.
This guy looked huge and a tad ornery, even in the moonlight. “Well boy, what’s wrong? Cat got yer tongue? If ya don’t say something soon, I may just beat it out of you."
“Just admiring your car man; it’s a classic.”
The big mean dude seemed to warm some at the compliment but reverted to his menacing stance quickly,  “Thanks. She is a beauty isn’t she? How long were you skulking around my car? You didn’t touch her did ya?”
Lou began to sweat.  This guy was getting way too intense over a car. He tried backing away but the bigger man was getting in his face about the whole deal. Finally Lou started to run and the guy backed off. Then he heard the engine start and looked behind him. The car was coming right at him!
Holy shit!! What did this asshole want? “It’s just a freaking’ car dude; damn”; Lou was incredulous that this guy was going ape-shit over a set of wheels as nice as they were.
He ducked down an alley, around the corner and thought he was safe. Then he heard it again. He looked to his left and the son of a bitch was still coming for him.
Lou took a deep breath, and promised himself that if he ever got out of this mess he’d start getting in better shape. ‘Dude you’re barely thirty six and you run like an old man.’ The car was catching up to him, it wasn’t stopping either. For whatever reason this shithead wanted him dead!  For the life of him, Lou could not figure out what had gone wrong. He felt the bumper hit the back of his legs sending him flying in the air. He came down with a thud on the hood of the car and his head hit the windshield before he rolled off the car, and was dragged under the front wheels of the car. The car backed up and left the body where it lay; somewhere in Lou’s pocket, a cell phone was ringing.
MEET THE AUTHOR
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Karen Vaugan is a first-time author who enjoys reading and writing. She is a part of Class 1983 at Applewood Heights Secondary School at Mississauga, ON.
She is married with one daughter, and four stepchildren. She has two cats at home. She has a warped sense of humor and sees the lighter side of things.
You can contact Karen via Facebook or her blog.
Find Karen's books on Amazon.com 

Friday, January 17, 2014

FRIDAY FEATURE ~ Eternal Bond by Rachel Rueben


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ETERNAL BOND

by

RACHEL RUEBEN

INTERVIEW


1. Where do your ideas come from? Life, the book I’m currently working on is metaphorical for a lot of the issues I’ve dealt with wrapped up in vampire awesomeness.  For example, my main character Clara is young but stubborn and has this image about who she is and is tested only to discover she’s not nearly as “moral” as she once thought. 
2.What kind of surroundings do you need while writing? No distractions, meaning locked door, music cranked up and no phone calls. 
3.What is the easiest aspect of writing? The Hardest? The easiest part of writing is beginning a novel, the hardest would be finishing it.  That’s because it takes nothing to begin a project but it takes real discipline to hang in till the very end. 
4.What is your favorite line from one of your books? “You spend all your life following their commandments, whipping your very thoughts into submission.  Then, just as you taste mortality you discover, there’ll be no reward for you!  All those years of fearful sowing, yielded nothing but the whirlwind!” ~Apollonia 
5.Do you have any favorite characters? Yes, Apolloni is my favorite, she is twisted and demented like a vampire is supposed to be. 
6.What character from any of your books would you invite out to dinner? Why? I don’t think I would invite any of them to my house unless I made a stop at the local blood bank LOL! 
7.What are your hopes and dreams for your future in the writing world? My hope is to improve at my craft and make a decent living from my work. 
8. How do you define success as an author? Being able to connect with an audience, once you do that, the money and everything else will naturally follow. 
9.Favorite writing quote? Learn the rules, so you can break them. 
10.What are you working on now? I’m working on the sequel to Eternal Bond called, “From The Crown of her Head” because I’m a masochist and couldn’t leave well enough alone!

Book Excerpt from Eternal Bond ~


There was only a small glow of light left from the sun, putting the landscape in shadows.  Soon, the only thing illuminating her path would be moonlight, and she cursed herself for not bringing a lantern, but Elizabeth refused to go back.
Only ten minutes into her journey, the cobblestone road ended.  Having reached the city limits, she continued on the dirt road straight into the countryside.  This was a harrowing journey for someone who had never left Norwich in her whole life.  She remembered all the stories told to her about witches and thieves who would victimize night travelers.  Nonetheless, breaking this hex was more important than anything, so Elizabeth pressed onward into the sinister looking countryside.
It wasn’t long before everything was covered by a blanket of thick darkness.  In near blindness, she struggled to keep herself on the road.  It took almost an hour before she gained confidence and realized the night wasn’t so terrifying.  Just as she was starting to feel good, Elizabeth heard rustling in the grass right next to the road.
Stopping in her tracks, she heard it again.  Not knowing what to do, she stood there completely still hoping it would just go away.  That’s when she heard the sound of growling directly next to her.  It was a wolf and it had been stalking her for quite a distance.
In sheer terror Elizabeth bolted, only further convincing the wolf that she was indeed prey.  Running, she screamed as loud as she could before realizing it was no use.  Trying to wear her down, the wolf casually galloped behind her.  Just when it seemed Elizabeth was doomed to become a chew toy, salvation came in the form of a sign post which she ran smack into.
Dazed, Elizabeth tried to get back up, but soon discovered her leg was dislocated.  Seizing the opportunity, the wolf pounced, grabbing her by the back of the neck.
Desperate, Elizabeth picked up a stone and started hitting the wolf.  In this demented frenzy she not managed not only to kill it, but mauled it.
Within minutes, it was over and the victor stood in silence, hovering over the battered carcass.  Casting the stone aside, she slowly circled the body dragging her mangled leg behind her.
Taking notice of the blood on her hands, she smiled and licked her fingers.  In this euphoria she found herself delighted by her own savagery and in that moment Elizabeth ceased and Clara reigned.
Wounded, Clara dragged her battered body slowly down the road.  Limping along in her torn and bloody dress, she looked like a ghost haunting the countryside.  The only thing that kept her going was the fact she couldn’t feel any pain.  Though progress was slow, her anger kept her moving along.
When Clara finally reached the nearest house, she attempted to make her way up a pathway.  As she did, several dogs started barking furiously at her.  Stumbling back, she braced for the worst, but soon realized they were tied up, cautiously, she continued up the pathway.
Pounding on the door, she yelled, “Help, please, someone!”
The wait seemed infinite before the door slowly opened.  In a nightshirt appeared a man, holding a candle.
Before he could even get a word in edge wise, she said in tears, “I was attacked by a wolf on the road, I need help!”
Suddenly an older woman appeared, pushing him aside, “Come in child.” she said.
Relieved, Clara dragged herself across the threshold as the woman yelled for her daughter.  The man helped her to a chair in front of the fireplace where the woman cleaned and bandaged her arm.
Taking a look at her leg the woman sighed and said, “Tis a bad break!”
When Clara started crying, again the woman comforted her and said, “Ye must stay the night until, we can get a doctor.”
Not able to speak, she just nodded her head in agreement.  The women gave her a new change of clothes, and tried to get the grass and leaves out of her auburn hair.  Making her comfortable in front of the fire place, everyone returned to their beds for the night.  Now, feeling safe enough to relax, Clara also fell asleep.
The next morning as Clara slowly sat up in her chair, she noticed a mangled wolf carcass at her feet.  Screaming, she almost fell out of her chair trying to get away.  Hearing a familiar laugh, she looked about the room when out of the shadows appeared Lester.
Picking up the carcass with one arm he said, “Rule one: never leave any evidence behind!”  Looking at the carcass he looked back at her, then continued to mock her, “I guess we all have to start somewhere.”
Clara looked around the house, and noticed it was empty.  Thinking the worst, she asked, “What have you done?”
Leaning forward, he said angrily, “An immortal would dine better in the gutters than in this wretched place!”
With the wolf carcass still in hand, Lester walked out the front door and threw it at the dogs in the yard, driving them into a frenzy.  He watched as they tore it apart, piece by piece until, there was absolutely nothing left.  Having destroyed the evidence, he came back into the house smiling.
Taking a chair in front of Clara he said, “Not that I don’t think you’re worth it, but I always fancied a quiet life!” Saying not a word, she just sat there listening to Lester’s parody.
When they heard the family come back, he ordered, “Pretend to be in pain.”
“No problem!” Clara responded.
His expression grew dark and through gritted teeth he said, “I’m not foolin’.”

Meet The Author

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Rachel Rueben went to school to become an administrative assistant but instead, wound up an author.  In her defense, she tried freelance writing, virtual assisting, and blogging to pay the bills, but creating worlds was her one and only passion.

This past summer, Rachel entered the sacred order of authorhood with the release of her first novel “Hag” which made it to #10 on the Amazon’s Women’s and Girl’s Literature list.
To find out what Rachel is up to you can check out her new site at: http://www.rachelrueben.com
She continues to blog about her publishing journey at: http://www.writingbytheseatofmypants.com
You can also find Rachel on Twitter @RachelRueben
And catch her on Facebook at: http://www.facebook.com/AuthorRachelRueben
Find Rachel's book on Amazon.com

Wednesday, January 15, 2014

WISH FOR IT WEDNESDAY ~ *Cover Reveal* Fields Of Summer by Toni G. Sinns

Fields of Summer
Book Title:

Fields of Summer

Book Author:

Toni G. Sinns

Book Genre:

Light Romance, Young Adult

Book Blurb: It is amazing how many truths and lies can come out in just a summer. Daniel thought he was going to have a normal summer with his grandparents fixing up an old truck. However, when Tiffany needs a place to stay after her brother’s death Daniels summer plans change.

Release Date: February 5th.

About the Author:





Toni Sinns was born and raised in Western North Carolina before moving to Central Florida in 2011. She is an author with a mind in multiple genres of novels and stories. She is currently working on multiple novels that you can read about on her website:http://gracietfranklin.wix.com/tonigsinns also you can catch her random thoughts on her blog at: http://lilgracielou.blogspot.com/

Monday, January 13, 2014

Must Read Mondays ~ I've Got You Covered by Toni G. Sinns



I've Got You Covered  by Toni G. Sinns

Summary ~

Anistasia moves a lot to get away from her past. But when she lands in Brooksville she runs into John. Something about him just makes her feel so safe and he can't get her off his mind. The two soon learn they actually have more in common than they could possibly ever know.

My Thoughts ~

A Story Of Fast Cars, Young Love And Yes, The Mob!

A while back  I had a chance to read 'I've Got You Covered' (Book 1 in The Blazing Charm Series) by Toni Sinns and I'm calling it a MUST READ for sure!
I got sucked in pretty quickly to this story of fast cars, young love and yes, the mob! If I had to sum it up in just a few words, I would say that it was a bit like 'General Hospital goes back to High School' (What? You don't have a guilty pleasure!? Come on, no judgement...). The more I got to know the characters, the more I wanted to know MORE...and I was not disappointed. Although, I have a sneaking suspicion there are still plenty of secrets left to be revealed come book number two.
The romance between John and Anistasia was refreshingly realistic given that they didn't just meet and fall in love a second later. Instead, there was a gradual build up as the two got to know each other and I, the reader, got to know them, giving me all the time I needed to reach that 'when-are-they- going-to-get-together-already?!' anxiety I so love to suffer through.
I also appreciated the fact that while there was an underlying sense of violence, it was always more implied than actually depicted in such great detail that it might have seared horrific images into my brain for days to follow. I say some things are better left to the reader's imagination.
Toni Sinns has a remarkable ability as a writer to send the reader on an exciting journey in search of the details that will bring the big picture into full view while only really revealing small fractions of it at a time; all the while still allowing for an easy and enjoyable read that doesn't end up being more work than entertainment.
I for one, am ready to see what Toni has in store for Ani and John in book number two - New York Heartbreak!
To purchase your own copy all you have to do is click HERE ;-)

Meet The Author


Toni Sinns was born and raised in Western North Carolina before moving to Central Florida in 2011. She is an upcoming author/writer with a mind in multiple genres of novels and books. She is currently working on multiple novels that you can read about on her website: http://gracietfranklin.wix.com/tonigsinns also you can catch her random thoughts on her blog at: http://lilgracielou.blogspot.com/

Friday, January 10, 2014

Friday Feature ~ When It Rains: The Umbrella Collection by Prudence Hayes



When It Rains: The Umbrella Collection


With rain chasing her at her heels and her fear of rain flowing through her veins, Nora is in a downward spiral mentally and trying to grasp onto anything that will stop her. For many years she has been trying to come to grips with her parent’s death in a car crash and a voice that she incessantly hears in her head that announces only evil. 

She lives amongst a testosterone filled family; Pops, her uncles and cousins that have never wavered in their love but are often overshadowed by the darkness that overwhelms her. 
With the loss of a friendship, running into the man that killed her parents, and her family confronting her about her issues, all with the sound of the voice echoing throughout, she is brought to the edge of insanity and to her breaking point. Will she win the battle in her mind or will she succumb to defeat?


My Thoughts ~

When it Rains, was a beautiful story that explored both the light as well as the deepest of darkness within the human mind. Told from Nora's perspective, she shares with us her journey of fighting herself free from the chains of mental illness and releasing the devastating memories of losing her parents that haunt her mercilessly. Prudence Hayes has done a wonderful job of addressing a very real issue and making it relatable to everyone. While the content of this book is certainly serious and should not be taken lightly, there are plenty of heart warming moments and outright hilarious interactions between Nora and those she loves the most, that guarantee for an entertaining read. In the end, no matter who we are and where we've come from and no matter how sane we think we are...there's a little bit of Nora in all of us. Something we should remember the next time we jump to making judgements rather than showing compassion.

Book Excerpt ~
1
It’s Raining
  
 I feel like raindrops have been following me my whole life. Slowly dripping, tiptoeing behind me in my shadow and at other times chasing me at a downpour, drenching me as I try and dodge the wet droplets. The rain has been incorporated in my life during times when life changing events have happened and enclosed in my dreams, frightening me out of my sleep.
Ever since I was a little girl, I have hated the rain. Besides the physical pains of it all; the headaches from the pressure in the air and my bones aching, there are also the mental issues. Yes, I have plenty of mental issues. Anxiety fills my veins as the rain begins and doesn’t leave until the clouds part and the sun shines brightly.  Sometimes, I catch it too late and that is when depression kicks in. There is something about the dreariness of the weather that sets me on a whirlwind mentally. With my shoulders slouched, my mind is dark and I feel incapable of living.  The weather infuses itself into my mind and makes it heavy.  The weight makes me sag and hang deep below my normal surface and it tends to become stagnant there, unwilling to move until I am strong enough to push, yank and tear my way out of it.  Not all the time though, just the times where I don’t catch myself before I fall down those slopes.
I typically won’t leave the house or wherever I may be at the time the showers start and I plead to anyone that will listen to stay put until it ends. An unsettled feeling builds within my heart and I’m afraid that something bad will happen; scared someone will get hurt.  Some people understand and some people say, to my surprise, that I have issues. I could have told them that.
In the small chance that I succumb to the constant whine of others and actually go out and live my life in the rain, I carry one of my umbrellas. I have red ones, blues ones, striped ones and polka dots. I have a lots, like my frog one, from when I was a little girl and now that I’m almost 20, I have chosen to only break those out when I want to embarrass the person I will be standing next to.
I have been collecting umbrellas since before I can remember. There’s a picture that I have from Christmas when I was two years old and I’m unwrapping the one with strawberries all over it and in the background of that photo are my frog, rainbow and duck ones leaning against the wall next to the front door, so this hoarding aspect of my character must have started before then. My closet is full of them, along with the hallway closet and it has infiltrated the attic, kicking out all the nonsense that Pops keeps. They are shoved under my bed, the trunk of my car and in boxes in the garage that has once again evicted Pops’ things. I’m still waiting for the day he freaks out on me as he pulls up in the driveway and passes all his belongings that are sitting on the curb awaiting their final trip to the landfill as I make room for my beloved umbrellas, but he seems to handle it very nicely. He practically acts as if he hasn’t noticed, so I’ll continue to do it until he screams at me. Pops is actually the one that has contributed the most to my umbrella collection. My birthday, Christmas, Hanukkah (and we aren’t even Jewish) and every other holiday you can think of, he would hand me a wrapped present in a long odd shape and it would be a brand new one.  One time, he bought me one for his birthday. I thought that was a bit odd, but I graciously accepted it.
I believe my Mom and Dad were the culprits in getting this obsession started, buying me them because of my extreme loathing of the rain. There have been many major hissy fits that have occurred due to the combination of my insistence that something bad was going to happen and the reaction I had when the moistness hit my skin. So, their solution was those umbrellas. They told me it was my shield, a shield to protect me from the pain and fear I felt and I believed them wholeheartedly. When I had one in my hand covering my body, I felt nothing could hurt me. I can’t even recall the last time a raindrop touched my skin.
When I didn’t have one, especially in the house because my Mom believed the superstition, “Open an umbrella indoors and bad luck will "rain" upon you”, I used to hide under my bed at the first rap of thunder and wail at the first glimpse of a small wet mark hitting the wood that made the porch. I was under my bed so often, thanks to good ole Mother Nature, my Dad and I decked it out under there. I had shelving for my books, pictures hanging from the rails, stuffed animals galore, pink streamers for decoration, small Christmas tree lights for lighting, and pillows and blankets that I kept under there ready to go for when I needed to retreat for safety. There wasn’t much room, but it was my fortress.
When I was about 6 years old, I stole a storage box from my Dad’s bar down in the basement. The box contained little umbrellas from a Luau themed barbeque that my parents threw one summer. I remembered their friends walking around with them hanging out of their drinks all night long. I took my markers and colored each one differently, then took duct tape and fastened the newly designed umbrellas to each one of my stuffed animals’ hand, so they would be safe to. I didn’t just keep my paranoia to myself. I pushed them upon everyone and everything close to me. When my parents would leave for work, or anywhere for that fact, I would shove an umbrella in their hand. Sometimes, they would nonchalantly place them down somewhere where they would think I wouldn’t notice, but I always did and gave them an ear full when they returned.  Pops on the other hand took them with great pleasure and without hesitation. When he knew I was watching out the window as he headed towards his truck, he would open it up proudly, even when it wasn’t raining and the sun shined bright. It’s kind of funny to see your Grandfather sporting a bright pink umbrella with a smiley face imprinted on it above his head while clutching a case of his favorite beer in the other, headed for a get together with his old time war buddies.
It’s not as horrible these days to exit my house while the rain falls down.  I’m older now and I know it won’t physically hurt me, but I rather not.  And, that is exactly what I was thinking as I was staring at the chipping paint on the bottom of my magenta colored dresser, while laying on my side across my bed listening to the sound of droplets hitting the tree outside my window.  My long brown hair was strewn across my face making it so that the dresser was the only thing I could see besides the opening to my closet.  My knees were brought into my chest and my hands were tightly squeezed around them.  My mission was to make myself as little as I possibly could, trying to be nonexistent to everyone especially myself.
I get in these moods a lot.  It seems that the frequency of their happenings comes and goes in their intensity and longevity.  Sometimes, it will be a week or two before the switch takes place.  Other times, it’s within minutes.  The switch being my mood swings.  The high flying upswing of those is a breathlessly beautiful with my face hurting from the endless amounts of smiles emitting from my face.  The downward end of the moods, the back-swing, are where the trouble lies in wait, awaiting to pounce on me and wishing with its fingers crossed that I won’t be prepared.  The less preparation and fight I give, the easier and longer it suffocates me.
I have been feeling like shit for a while now, hiding it the best I could from my family, but the back swing swung higher today and I wasn’t prepared at all.  Hence, why I have encased myself in this position on my bed, undecided on whether or not I want to breathe again.  I knew I had to get up any second because Pops wants his hair cut for his date tonight.  He has enlisted me in this job ever since I’ve lived with him and we have the same spat every time because we differ on mishaps.  Being that I am not a professional, it’s understandable that a mistake will occur, but his point is that I have been doing it for so long now that I should have mastered it being that he has had the same haircut forever, the typical old guy one.  His hair parted on the side and combed over the top.  He likes me to fix a mistake I made on his hairline and I just say “Eh, just shave it.”  He always wins that battle though because he says he has a dent on the top of his head.  The fact that I have one to match his makes me relent in my stance and mend my mishap.
As I lay in my spot waiting to hear his bellowing voice calling for me and bang on the wall, I was enamored by the choice in paint color whomever owned the dresser before me had chosen to paint it.  Granted, I didn’t like the baby pink I had chosen when I was little, but that orangey-green puke color that was peering through under the chipping magenta and light pink made me question other people’s sanity.
My mind was flip-flopping between the nonsense of the dresser, to disappointment that air was entering my lungs, to my hair getting in my eyes.  I think my head does that on purpose, trying to snap me out of my funk by focusing on mundane things such as chipping paint; the sane part that lives on inside me trying to grab my attention away from the devil in there.  There was a rap of thunder coming from the heavens above that made me jump a few inches off my bed and land in the exact same spot and reconnect with the paint again.
“Nora, Let’s go!” Pops had just yelled for me shocking me out of my comatose stare.
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” I grumbled as I sat up groggy from lying there and maybe from the pill that I took a little before.  I’m not sure what it was, it was small and white.  I grabbed it from Pops’ medicine cabinet while he was at the store earlier.  That’s my biggest secret, stealing pills from everyone.  Pops, my uncles, cousins, and from everyone else’s house I just so happen to be in.  My uncle Mike is one of my biggest suppliers.  He conveniently and unknowingly delivers them to me to my doorstep.  He has heart problems, stress problems, mental problems, anger problems, kidney, stomach, sleep, back, and knee problems and he is prescribed a pill for each.  He carries them around with him wherever he goes in a blue backpack that he leaves by the front door when he comes over.
I took a quick peek in the mirror to wipe off the mascara that fell beneath my eyes to hide the fact that I was melted into my bed a moment before.  I put my slippers and black hoodie on and headed down the steps, skipping the third one from the bottom that Pops has named “Diablo” because, for as long as I can remember, it made a high pitched creek when pressure was placed on it. Pops said it was a sound only the devil could make.  So, we all avoid it as much as possible.
“What’s the big hurry? You have a hot date or something?!” I asked with a hint of laughter as I landed on the floor at the bottom of the steps in front of him because I already knew the answer.
“Yes, I do as a matter of fact and you know how she gets when I’m late and I would rather not have to hear it, so come on. Let’s go,” he had a towel around his shoulders to block the hair from getting on his clothing, his typical attire, flannel shirt that was tucked into a pair of jeans and brown loafers.
“Molly isn’t exactly ‘hot’…,”
Pops interrupted me, “Here we go again. Let’s hear it. She is ugly. She looks like a mouse. She’s annoying. Come on, let’s hear,” he stated as he led the way to the bathroom in the hall by the kitchen.
“All I am saying is that, in my opinion, she isn’t the best out of the bunch.”
Pops is a ladies’ man, always has been. There is always a different girl on his arm for every family occasion. He has a date five out of the seven days in a week. I have no clue how he keeps up with them all.  They all know about each other and they all keep coming back. Things can get a little catty between them and I have heard arguments occurring on the front porch between two women when he gets the days mixed up and they both showed up to ring the doorbell. That has actually happened a few times, old age memory I’m guessing. He is old, his80th birthday is coming up and the man has held onto his looks. He is slender for his elevated height of 6’2. His brown eyes twinkle whenever he smiles widely, but that rarely happens. An “I don’t give a shit” look is permanently fixed on his face most of the time and with that you are lucky if you get his smirk, a smirk that slants to the left side of his face and barely shows his pearly whites. He still has a full head of thick hair, too.
I have been living with him for the past thirteen years, one of which was with my parents. We moved in here with Pops when my dad, Davey, got laid off from a factory that he worked at with Pops and my uncle Mike. However, a year after we made the move they died in a car accident on their way home from Giovanni’s, a restaurant a few blocks away. So, now it’s Pops and I alone in this big old house. Well, we aren’t exactly alone all the time. His sons, my uncles, come by constantly. I’m surrounded by testosterone here; my Uncle Mike has three sons, Drew, Elijah and Brody, who are all the same age and not triplets, my Uncle Brian has one son Colin, my Uncle Alex also has a son, Evan and then there is Uncle John who doesn’t have any kids, which is surprising since he gets around just as much as Pops and Mike. He is only 4 years and 9 months older than me.  Growing up with a bunch of men has definitely changed me since my mom died. The biggest being my mouth. They like to be crude and curse up a storm and sadly it has become one of my biggest flaws.  I try to hold my tongue, but sometimes it gets away from me.
“Come on.  She isn’t that bad.  She’s a nice lady.”
“Oh, yeah she is just wonderful,” I said in a lovely tone while my eyes rolled.
“What is it you don’t like?”
“She’s a stalker, Pops!”
“No, she isn’t,” he said dumbfounded.
“Hello?  Open your eyes, Man!  She calls here constantly, shows up here all the time, uninvited I must add, she happens to be at almost every place you go.  I’m surprised you haven’t tripped over her, yet!”  I said as I flipped the switch on the razor.
“What if I like that?” he yelled over the buzzing.
“Then, you are as insane as she is.”
Pops began to laugh until I gave him a playful smack to the top of his head to eliminate the possibility of a screw up.  Too late, though because his hairline wasn’t so much of a straight line anymore.  I tried not to show it, but he caught my face, a face with big blue eyes that can’t hide anything, in the mirror that he sat in front of.
“What? What did you do?” he asked as his hand reached to the back of his neck to feel where I went wrong.
“No big deal.  I’ll fix it,” I quickly stated with my eyes bulging out, even though I have no clue how I would unless I glued the hair back on.
“Nora!”
“Relax. Relax,” I said as I patted him on his shoulder.
As Pops relaxed more in his chair, I got to work on his hair.  “So, what are you doing tonight?”  Pops asked.
“I don’t know. Skylar might come over,” I replied with a shrug of my shoulders.  Skylar didn’t know about that, yet.  I haven’t spoken to her all day.  When I’m finish up here I’ll give her a ring and I know she would come over once I tell her the way I have been feeling.
“Sounds fun.  Speaking of fun, um, Molly is going to be here any minute, so can you hurry up?”
“You can’t rush perfection,” I said and took the attachment to the razor off and grabbed a larger one to replace it.  I began to shave and blend the hair in the back, but with my first movement I realized, since his scalp and tiny hairs were staring at me, that I grabbed a smaller one instead. “Uh oh!” I cried as I slowly backed away from another mishap.
 “What? What happened?” he questioned as he stood up closer to the mirror, trying to maneuver his head to view his bald spot in the back of his head.
“Um, do you know that sweet haircut that Marines have...Do you like it?”  I slowly asked with a twisted face, scared, but already knowing, his answer.
“Eleanora May Boutilier!  What the hell is wrong with you?” he said.
The thing with Pops is that he isn’t an angry man, him being mad typically lasts for 30 seconds and it’s gone and that was evident when he looked at my face which already had a half smirk upon it and burst out laughing.   I reached for the little mirror  to hold it in front of him while he had his back towards the big mirror and he got his first glance at his almost naked spot.
We were in hysterics until he sat back down on the chair and asked, “So, how are we going to fix this?”
“Eh, just shave it.”
Pops’ head turned very slowly towards me and there was a slight look of impatience that appeared on his face and then it was gone.  “That’s the only option we have, so shave it,” he said and my mouth molded itself into a smile.  Finally, I got what I wanted.  I happily switched the clippers on and began to eliminate the rest of his locks.
After a few minutes, he was bald, well, not completely.  He had, maybe, an eighth of an inch of his gray hair remaining.  As he looked in the mirror, I did notice a bit of a dip in the middle of the top of his head, but I refrained from saying anything purely for the fact I didn’t want to feel the wrath of his 30 second evil stare again.
The doorbell rang, “Oh goodie, Molly is here.  She was probably looking through the window watching us, waiting until we were done,” I mumbled under my breath.
Pops took off the towel that shielded his clothing and began wiping off the back of his neck, as I walked down the hall to open the front door and greet his guest.
“Eleanora!  Hello, sweetie.  How are you?  Where is your Grandfather?” she said without giving me a chance to respond or invite her in, but that didn’t stop her because she was already half way up the steps going towards his room.  She was wearing a dress whose color almost matched the pukey colored paint on the dresser. She’s a mousy looking older lady with shoulder length gray wavy hair that is never out of place, big ears, a pointy face, skinny, but a huge head.  Seriously, she looks like a bobble-headed mouse.  I’m not the biggest fan of hers, but I believe the feeling is mutual. Pops appeared beside me at the front door all ready to go and looking for Molly with a quizzical look on his face.  When he looked at me about to ask where she is, I just shrugged my shoulders and pointed upward.
“James?  James? Where are you, honey?” Molly rang out while she walked throughout the upstairs of the house.
She walked back to the landing and without looking downward reached for the doorknob that was nearest the steps, “Excuse me, that’s my room!” I yelled.
“Molly, I’m by the door,” Pops said as he looked at me.  “Don’t start,” he uttered when he saw I was about to say something about Molly.
We heard her, more so the clanking of her heels on the hardwood stairs, make her way back towards where we were standing.
“Oh, there you…,” and then she spied his new do, “OH MY GOD!  What did you do to your hair?”
“We had a little mishap while cutting my hair,” he replied as he elbowed me in the shoulder.
“Hey, it wasn’t all my fault.  I told him he can’t rush perfection and he did.”
Molly gave me a smug look.  I swear this lady has an underlying hatred towards me.  “Well, next time, honey, I’ll just do it for you,” she said and came up to Pops and kissed him on the cheek and fixed the collar of his shirt.
“Um, no.  I have been doing it since I was 10, so I’ll continue to do it, thank you.”
A snotty look, yet again, exuded from her face, “Well, we will see, I guess.”
Pops saw my face fill with anger, my eyes bug out and my mouth open to begin to say my retort, but he beat me to the punch, “I think Nora has it covered, Mol.  You ready to go?”
“Oh, yes, Darling.  Let’s go,” she responded and Pops gave me a wink as they made their way out the door.
“You guys have a good one,” I said as I closed the door behind them and mumbled, “Hopefully, he will make it back in one piece.”
I went back up the stairs, threw off my hoodie and slippers and jumped back into bed, landing into almost the exact same spot and position that I was in before Pops interrupted.  My mind was erased of everything that had just happened, me screwing up Pops hair and Molly being Molly.  Much like my position in bed, my thought process was back to where it was.  Engulfed in wonderment of why I’m alive and well and the hideous orange puke paint that reminded me of Molly’s dress.
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Meet The Author



Just a girl with a mind that wanders aimlessly every second of everyday. A girl that loves change and yet is scared of it at the same time. A girl that loves writing emotionally driven sentences, listening to music, animals, being near my fantastic family and friends and a girl that likes to be alone, too. A girl that would like to read much more than she does. A girl that lives in Philadelphia, Pa at the moment, but who knows where this girl will be this time next year.