During the course of our life, we don’t necessarily think about it but we look for that one special someone. Many times when we do find someone it leaves holes in our hearts and part of our life empty when things don’t work out.

We don’t think like soldiers. Maybe we should and we might have something that would leave our hearts in tack. Go into the “war” with guns blazing and take out everything that stands in your way.  Of course, it doesn’t always work like that when you join the war and your partner doesn’t.

When you look at the battlefield, you’ll see that there are so many wounded and so few to pick up the pieces. If you’re one of the lucky ones that have found their better half, cherish it and give it your all. It might be the only chance you get.

For all the wonderful authors, let’s stop this war and continue to bring all the lonely hearts some loving through our work. We write for the enjoyment but think of all those people that wish the man in your book…was theirs. You’ve made a lonely heart become a loving heart just by bringing your characters to life.

I hope everyone is having an awesome day and may love find their way to you, if not in real life but through our books.

Hello FAB readers!

First, my name is Faith Bicknell-Brown. I’m a repped author, an editor, a teacher, and a mom quickly going insane.

As I was preparing to shower, dress, and ready myself to go into battle with my daughter’s high school principal this morning, I realized that my day to blog here at FAB was today and not tomorrow.

What do I blog about? What do I blog about? What do I…?

I looked over the posts here at FAB and saw a trend of sorts, lol, so I’m going to write about something I discovered last night while talking to my husband, my teens, my teens’ friends, and a couple of my online pals.

I’m intimidating as Hell.

What??? Uh, yeah. I’m intimidating.

I’ve heard that over the years. Even in high school, girls would come up to me and say, “Ya know, I always thought you’d thrash my ass if I tried to talk to you, but once I did, I realized that you’re really nice, funny, and super easy to talk to.”

So why do people think I’m intimidating? My oldest daughter says it’s because I have dark eyes and a very penetrating way of looking at–or through–people when I’m talking to them or watching them. My dau’s bff said it’s because my temper is intense and I’m unpredictable. My youngest dau said that it’s because I have a way of speaking and holding myself that shows I won’t put up with any crap. The hubby insists that I just have an aura that says, ‘don’t piss with  me’ and then add that to my dark eyes and manner of studying someone or making eye contact with them that it freaks people out.

{Shakes head} The thing is that I didn’t REALLY know people felt this way until the past couple of days. Children I don’t know will come up to me and talk my ear off, want me to spend time with them, and remember me from then on, making it a point to seek me out at school or wherever, but adults are afraid to approach me? It just doesn’t make any sense.

My dau’s boyfriend said he was terrified of talking to me about important things because he figured I’d thrash his ass. Again…what??? I replied that I’m one of the most laid back, easygoing people he’ll ever meet. And he remarked that those are the ones you gotta watch out for, lmao.

This made me pause, however. I now worry that when it comes book-signing time readers be afraid to approach me.  Do I sit there with a maniacal smile pasted on my face in the hopes I won’t intimidate anyone?

Is there a magic pill for this condition?

Well, for now, I’ll just utilize it to freak out the moron of a high school principal this morning.

Mwahahaha!

We’ve all been in love. Laughed with silly jokes, shared silly phrases, called each other silly nicknames. Played in the sun, in the dark, while the rest of the world slept or worked or did other very responsible things.

And we’ve all been to the gloomy place where all that loses its lustre. Where silly just becomes stupid, where watching a movie or reading a book sounds better than spending time with our significant (?) other. Where what was once the reason we got up in the morning is now another thing to check on our to-do list.

Surprisingly, that’s the good way to end a relationship. Yes, I know ending and good should create an oxymoron, but it’s true. When you want something to be over, you heal easier, you move on faster, you place the good memories in the treasure-chest of your heart and delete the bad with a small sigh.

But what happens when that magical bond between two people is broken abruptly?

When it’s not the logical result of a succession of events? When someone cheats, lies or just plain lets us down in a way that’s unforgivable? Big words fly high and low in the heat of the moment, even more so when someone is impulsive. “It’s over” is a prevalent phrase we throw around, but how true is it really? Maybe it’s just something we say to hurt the other person the way they hurt us.

Bitterness flows when love ebbs and the hurt takes over. Walking away sometimes is the only thing to do. Or maybe it’s the easiest. Whether it’s heartache or pride that forces us to run, we do. More often than not in this day and age. But what we always seem to forget is that we can run but we can’t hide. From our feelings, from the truth. They follow us around like an annoying shadow, forcing us to go back and pick up the pieces of our broken relationship. Be adults and own up to our mistakes.

You can’t have a fight with only one person.

Greek saying that fits the bill in most cases.

So what happens when the bill’s too much for us to pay, and we realize that we spoke too fast? It’s not always possible to take such a small but powerful word back. Sometimes the hurt we’ve caused by walking away excedes the pain we felt in the first place, and we’re left in limbo. Nowhere to go back to, nowhere to move on to. The chain of reactions has wrapped around our neck and strangles us.

That’s the bittersweet beauty of life though. Pain is also needed so we can learn, adjust, evolve, and hopefully do it right in the future.

So are you a man/woman of your four-letter word? Do you mean it when you tell someone it’s over or do you later regret it?

Ok first off I am going to apologize…my blog is a couple of days late and I am a few dollars short.  But then my usual day fell on a Monday and Monday is of course our jump day here at work.

Work, shall we go into that subject.  My roommate is a jerk from hell.  The lowest rung of hell at that.  He seems to think that everything should revolve around him.  As in suck my cock, each my shit…whatever I want goes.  Yes my roommate is a guy…no I am not fucking him.  Wouldn’t if he was the last dick on earth and having sex with him meant that the world would be saved and all that.  He is just rude and to make matters worse thinks he is God’s gift to women.  I have curtains in my bunkhouse room.   In this picture the curtain is up in the air…but for some reason he has a problem with it being closed at night.  He always comes in and opens the corner of the curtain “so that he can have the air conditioner” yet he then closes his curtain which goes all the way to the ground?  HUH  this makes no sence to me, but then I am not a guy so.  He also seems to think it is alright for him to move my fan so that it is pushing the air towards his room instead of towards mine.  The result is that my room ends up hotter than hell while he gets a small amount of air.

Now as for him thinking he is God’s gift to women.  He had tried on several occasions to have sex with me.  I am so not going there.  One is is not my type.  Two he is nasty.  Three I know for a fact he tested positive for an STD not that long ago.  I know this cause he got arrested and my boss found out about it and told me about it.  Hell when I said something to someone else about him having tested positive for one, he yelled at me for talking about him but did NOT deny that he had to get treated for one.  He is one of them guys that has at least 2 woman a week he is having sex with.  The final straw for me today was something that is actually pretty stupid but it was just the be all to end all.  He took the garbage bag out of my room (sounds nice right) filled it with his garbage and left it open just outside the door.  Where if I had not bitched about it, it would have sat for most of the rest of this week.  Until someone else took it out to the big can to get collected.

Then there is DC…he is one of the drivers for the show.  He is another one that gets pissy cause I have turned him down.  He is a pot head.  Now I have smoked a little in my time, but I have never done it and then gotten behind the wheel of anything.  He will get stoned then drive a rig, or even worse he smokes it while driving.  He has been pissy lately cause I won’t do what he tells me to do.  In our weekly “church” meeting…we have a work meeting everyweek that the boss calls “church”…a couple of weeks ago, he tells everyone at the meeting that he will take the show bus to do laundry in the morning and that I am going to drive it that night to take them all to Walmart.  I informed him in no uncertain terms that he had no right to volunteer me for anything.  When he tried to say that Timmy(the boss) does it all the time, I let him know that he was not my boss and he couldnt volunteer me to do anything.  Ever since that night, see I embarrased his ass in front of the whole show, he has been really bitchy with me.  Today in fact, he got pissed cause I parked my truck where he did not want it.  When I called my boss Mary and asked her if there was some place that I could or could not park the pickup and told her where I was and that DC was telling me I couldnt park there, she said fuck him tell him I told you to park there.

It is all not that bad…Really it isnt.  I had 5 interesting weeks with my teenage daughter out here.  Unfortunately, she has decided that she in in love with a guy I was sort of involved with.  I do not mind them dating, he was nothing to me but a friend with benefits.  What bothers me is that everyone else has a problem with it and I am getting all kinds of flack about letting them even hang out together.  Everyone else is convinced that he is taking advantage of her.  Yet I have talked to both of them…they really do like each other.  He is a nice kid…he maybe 26 but he is in so many ways still just a kid himself.  He does his best to take care of her AND he REFUSES to do anything physically with her until she is at least 18…which mind you is in March.  In fact to listen to her, she tried to get him to but he said NO.  They talk on the phone every day now.  He is suppose to be paying her phone bill so that they can continue to talk daily until she is either 18 or no longer living with her father.

I do not have a problem with the age thing, cause I have dated older guys…guys that were a whole lot more than 9 years older than I was.  I have also dated much younger guys.  In fact, at one point I was like 32 and dating a guy that was 17…with his mother and legal guardian’s permission.  So I am a firm believer that I have no ground to stand on to bitch about their age differences.  And I have watched them when they did not know I was looking…the look on both faces is someone that is in LOVE.  Yes she is young…yes she may very well change her mind about him…but I also remember being 17 & 18 and my parents telling me NO…I was bound and determined to prove them wrong.  I was old enough to make my own decisions and I was going to.  I would much rather let them date and have a modeum of control over something than to forbid it like her father wants to do, and have her run off as soon as she turns 18 and have no way of knowing if she is safe or if she is still in school.

She is just a sophmore in high school this year.  She had to stay back in kindergarten and in 5th grade so she is 2 years behind where she should be.  But I want her to GRADUATE high school.  My boyfriend/fiance had to drop out of school in order to support his child when he was like 16 or 17.  He has fought for the last 13 years to finish high school.  He just this year finally got his GED.  I am so proud of him for doing this…but even he says it is so much easier if she just stays in school and does it that way.  I agree.

I have just about 2 weeks left until it is time to leave for home.  I am counting the days…almost counting the hours and minutes until I am able to pack up my stuff and head for Savannah and be with my boyfriend again!!!  The days cannot pass fast enough.

The babies need to go. If I don’t get rid of the babies something bad is going to happen. I can’t find any places that will take them. Someone I know suggested mobilizing the blogging community and people I know. I can’t do that when I’m immobilized myself. I’m at the office 10 hours a day. Then I come home and send emails and make phone calls trying to find somewhere for the babies to go. If I can’t find something soon they will be turned out (and they are totally clueless on how to take care of themselves) or I’ll be forced to take them to a kill shelter. That includes the famous Rambo from the Wise Guy video.

So this is a plea. If any of you are good at mobilizing… would you? I need to find no kill shelters or foster homes or homes for the babies and a couple of the adults. There are a lot of SoCal people on Twitter as well as SoCal bloggers, but I can’t even turn on Twitter or Yahoo during my lunch hour at work anymore. Everyone is tying my hands and my babies are going to die.

You’d think if the blogging community could send a dying woman to Disney World that they could save a few cats from dying. If anyone knows how to get the Twitterverse and bloggers to help save my babies… you do not know how grateful I would be. This has been killing me. I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. I’m messing up at work. I look at them and start sobbing imagining them being put to sleep or run over because they’ve been kicked out of my house.

If there is a way to start a grass roots movement to find places for my babies I know you people can do it. This is not a joke. It’s not funny. It’s making me sick it’s that serious. I’ve had a few people make jokes about it, and it’s not funny. You’re a nice person but making a laughing remark about a situation that is causing me so much stress and unhappiness isn’t a nice thing to do. It’s so bad, I can’t write. I can’t read. I can’t even look at my edits. I just want to throw up. Or hug my Geeky or my Louie. I can’t even imagine not having my Louie to wake me up in the morning or sleep on my foot.

If any of you have hearts and time and maybe even resources, please can you help my babies … and me? We live in Orange County, CA and we are not opposed to them going to many different places – separating them – as long as we know they will be cared for and not killed.

Thank you all for reading. (Please see comments for more specific info.)

Updated info:

I appreciate everyone’s good wishes and the links. Thus far, all the links provided are links we already have. We have checked all the shelters and rescues. No one is taking cats at this time. We have one no kill shelter left to check. We did receive word from one rescue group to please not send them to any shelters that do not specifically tell us they will NEVER kill them because some places say they are no kill but after the alloted time, they do. I’m told the kill percentage in Orange County is 80% currently. So basically, any shelter I take them to is signing their death warrant.

More info re the situation: We cannot have the cats here anymore. To do so risks the loss of the roof over our heads. My DH is newly out of rehab and shaky emotionally. He loves cats but the threat of losing what little stability we have has freaked him out to the point that if I cannot find somewhere for the cats to go soon, he could well turn them out.

In this economy, losing your home is difficult. I will not get a raise this year as my company instituted a wage freeze right before my review date. I don’t live in the greatest neighborhood but losing this place means probably living in a worse neighborhood or going into motel living. Putting my DH into that kind of situation is a guarantee that he will not make it.

We love our cats but we cannot keep them any longer. We had already been trying to find homes for the 5 kittens but now we have to let the adults go too – Dummy and Swirly the formerly feral kittens, Rambo, Noisy, Bitty Junior, and Louie.

My babies are all going to the vet on the 11^th to be fixed and get a clean bill of health. After that we need to find homes for them. Even foster homes will do because we are putting them on lists to go to rescue shelters where they will have every opportunity to be adopted. Two of the cats – Rambo and Harlequin Girl – are listed at Petfinders and so far all the emails I’ve received (and there have been a lot) fit the criteria listed for probable brokers who will sell them to labs. It’s disgusting and disheartening.

I’ve not gone to Craig’s List yet in part because of how bad all the Petfinders emails have been. These people trolling for animals should be stopped. I will probably be listing them on Craig’s List this weekend when we have more photos and can put up a page for them because it looks like we may only have homes for a few of them so far.

I’m not sure how Neil Gaiman got my link but I appreciate him re-tweeting the link and I appreciate his fans’ offers to assist. This is the kind of grass roots assistance I was hoping for – real people with real hearts, not people looking to lecture and turn their noses up or people who are pretending to be genuine adopters but are really just murderers.

Please know that we are doing everything we can to ensure that our kittehs will be happy and safe and loved. That is our only focus. Any help or new resources that people can provide is appreciated.

Rambo is featured in the book trailer for The Wise Guy here:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cr4gcFQShMM

Some of the other kittehs can be seen in this Flickr stream:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/26303384@N08/sets/72157604862875988/

New photos are forthcoming this weekend.

Again, thank you all for your good wishes, positive thoughts, helpful suggestions, and offers of help. My daughter and I sincerely appreciate them.

You know what happens to a champagne bottle that is shaken up, right? When you release the cork, the pressure inside the bottle sends the cork shooting across the room.  Behind my eyes and in the cavity of my chest lies a pressure years in the making.  Usually,  I can read a book with a tortured character, one whose soul is rent with pain, and it makes me cry. The release of pressure makes me feel better and the awful stuff that built up inside me seems not so bad anymore. It then becomes something I can deal with and put behind me.

Yet lately, I’ve found that I cannot cry. Everything I’ve done to try to relieve the pressure has not worked.  Perhaps it’s because the fat lady has yet to sing. This isn’t over yet. Still, I wish I could cry. I’m ready to feel better and ready to feel as if the situation causing me all the stress and pain can be dealt with.

I like being a problem solver. It gives me great satisfaction to fix things and make them work. Yet I cannot cry.  I’m not solving my own problem here. If I could just could just eke out a few droplets of water the pressure might ease. Nope. Not working.

Briefly, I wondered if I couldn’t cry because I wanted to so badly. My life is a  contrary thing and always has been. I want to zig. My life zags… and makes me deal.  I’ve been trying to channel the emotion into the story I need to finish for MLR Press. Nope. My muse wants to write the tortured story of Emily and Vahid in Ride the Lightning. Emily’s crazed ideas about wrongs and punishment appeals to me at the moment. Vahid becomes her knight in tarnished armor who rescues her from the prison of her mind. Maybe the story appeals because somewhere deep inside me I wish to be rescued from my pain. I don’t know.

So my muse isn’t a happy man.  He knows we should be working on Rousing Caine yet we do a thousand other things instead of write. Make pretty graphics for Aeryn. Futz with website stuff. Check into a domain to replace rottnroll.com with. Because if things work out the way they seem to be going, Rott of RottNRoll will be walking out of my life and I”ll need a new name for my media business.

To distract myself I looked up marcusmedia.com. Gone. giraffemedia.com. Gone.  Maybe I shouldn’t be looking for a new domain at all. Maybe I should turn winterheart.com into my media business. That’s the cheapest route. And the best answer to my rottnroll.com issues. I’ll have to figure out a logo now…

I’m a little aimless. It’s probably all those bottled up tears. And the freaky thing is,  the trip that sent me into a tailspin also showed me something that has been taking up space in the back of my head for over a week now.  I freaking love the eastern Sierras. It’s rough and ugly, rather like my Louie. He’s not a pretty boy. He’s lumpy and clumsy. Those mountains are craggy and rugged and their beauty is not like the western Sierras at all. And I totally fell in love. I want to live there and sit at my desk looking out a window at those sharp, ugly peaks that are still wrapped in snow at the end of May.

Still can’t cry. I need a really effing sad book with a spectacularly surprising HEA. A heroine who  is like my Louie, not perfect. A man like Aeryn’s daffodil man, coming out of nowhere to offer happiness.  Maybe then the tears can spurt out and I’ll start to feel like I can deal with the things that are eating me up inside. Maybe then I can write Rousing Caine about a man who is tired of having his life turn to shit only to have a ghost give him hope.  Maybe the HEA I need to make me cry is the one I’m holding inside for Emily and Vahid. Maybe if I write it, I will cry.  Now, there is an original idea.

So if not tears today, maybe tomorrow.  The numb train does stop eventually, doesn’t it?

Hopefully, I’ll be more sexy and flirty the next time we talk. Until then, get your hands out of the silk boxers.

Son of a Bitch!
Yeah, I’ve decided to bitch today. It probably has nothing to do with writing, although it has given me an idea for a new story. BTW, if this happens to offend you, first of all it’s my opinion and my opinion alone. Second, if you are offended by my opinion, then you are one of the people I’m bitching about and you need to go crawl in a hole somewhere and rot till the good lord takes you away.

If you read the Blog on my site last week www.deborahgould.com You’ll know I’m not to fond of the Florida police right now. They pulled over my son and his friend for speeding, 40 in a 20. Read the Blog. They had two sheriffs and two detectives, searched my car and the boys and threatened to take my son’s friend to jail because they could recognize a NY driver’s license.
That being said, yesterday I was reading a news report on Yahoo from my daughter’s hometown in Florida. Two Sherriff Deputy’s had been gunned down over the weekend while trying to arrest a man for domestic abuse.
Now I could go off on all kinds of different tangents from this report. Domestic Abuse, the fact that the person they were trying to arrest was a Guard member and the report seemed to slant it’s opinion that military members are dangerous, the fact that only two deputy’s were sent to pick up the guy at a gun range and a whole bunch of other stuff that just pisses me off.
But what REALLY got me extremely fucking mad were the comments made about the article from yahoo members. Here are a few:
f*****’ PIGS! Yeah, good on the brave, NG hero who gave his life up in order to rid two more swine called Keystone Cops from the US!…
Every time I hear of some–oink, oink!–pigs dying while on the job, it just brings tears of joy to my face…
Shame it was only 2. Good job pig killers keep it up.
This guy is a hero and a martyr for killing these stupid pigs. This has been a nice trend lately, people standing up like this, hopefully it continues. RIP to the gunmen. Rot in hell to the pigs.
Are you fucking kidding me???? Now I’m not some naïve country hick. I do realize that police corruption occurs. But I have to believe it is the exception, not the rule. These men and women put on their uniforms everyday for the main purpose to protect and serve the citizens of their home town. Any day, any hour, any minute could be their last. All in the name of upholding the law.
We as writers either romanticize the boys in blue or make them as bad guys. But that’s fiction people. FICTION. I also do not wear rose colored glasses. I DO realize there are a ton of ignorant assholes out there that believe unless you are a white Het. Male you’re pretty much worthless. But they are also the ones having secret meetings, hiding out in the woods, planning to take over the government and kill every innocent man woman and child that doesn’t choose to believe what they believe. The ones that beat those that are weaker than themselves, gay bash and blow up federal buildings.
Fucking cowards is what they are. These people making those comments disgust me. It’s easy to make those comments while they hide behind some made up name and spew their diseased view points.
I guess my rant has gone on long enough. I refuse to allow these people to infect my day with the cancer they spread. I believe what comes around goes around and eventually all get what is due them. To wish someone dead because of their occupation, race, religion, political views or sexual orientation is depraved. It makes my heart sad that such ignorance still occurs in this day and age.
And DAMMIT! God Bless America. Where even ignorant, communist idiots like the ones making those comments have the right to believe what they want.

Before I get too far into the business of the blog, I thought I’d take a moment for a little BSP.  As a special thank you to my readers, I’m announcing:

The Dreaming of You – Preservation This, Bitch! Giveaway. 

It’s your chance to win one of Three Free copies of my second book upon its release in May.  You can find out all the details at my website or my new Yahoo Group. 
You’ll find both links below.                                            

 Jealousy…why do you have to bother me?

Now I’ll be the first to admit I’m far from perfect, but I have never suffered from nor understood this particularly annoying emotion.  Perhaps there’s someone out there who can make me understand, but I suggest you come fully prepared to go to the mat along with a sales pitch unlike any other.

I’ve fallen for an unavailable man or two over the years and been envious of the person they were with, but I’ve never gone Coo Coo for Cocoa Puffs over it.  I don’t burst a blood vessel if I catch the guy I’m with checking out another man…he might catch me at some point and then what?  Those damn glass houses!

Before we continue I do feel I should also state that the first part of the following story all took place back in my early twenties.  I’m much nicer than I used to be.  Back in those days, the old me might have done something evil such as drink too much vodka, hop up onto the roof of someone’s car while pointing at random guys and declaring, “I’d fuck you and you…”  True – that in itself was really only embarrassing to me, but I unfortunately decided to also point at other guys while declaring, “I would soooo NOT fuck you or you…”  Yeah…I was a real sweet heart in those days.

My first real experience with the green eyed monster didn’t actually involve me personally, so to speak.  I know already that I’m going to get some unkind comments over this, but what the hell.  All I have to say is, unless YOUR  roommate comes home from a weekend trip to a hair show in Nashville with a complete stranger in tow, declaring they’ve fallen in love while moving this perfect stranger into your home…you aren’t allowed to bitch at me.  Now that I’ve hopefully built up a little sympathy for myself…stranger guy also happened to have Tourette’s.

I was a little surprised by how much I instantly disliked this man.  To be fair, my BFF’s twitchy boy toy was not very friendly either.  I’m sure he’d been made fun all his life and perhaps that made him a little anger ball, because he was certainly never going to win Miss Congeniality.  I know it’s not PC and I realize he couldn’t help himself, but it’s very frustrating when you’re lounging on the couch trying to enjoy your favorite TV show while some dude you never intended on living with is sitting on the floor bumping the back of his head into the sofa and muttering, shit…shit…shit…periodically.  Pretty soon, you too might feel your own sanity slip as your normally Walt Disney-like personality slowly begins to get all Tim Burtony, while you imagine yourself picking up the table lamp sitting next to you and smashing him over the head with it.  Granted…I now know it was actually my roomie who deserved to be bludgeoned, but hindsight and all…you know. 

Their relationship was tumultuous at best, and wound up only lasting a few months.  I was witness to things in that short amount of time, well…ever seen War of the Roses?  I’d never seen behavior like that, coming from my don’t-ask-don’t-tell family background.  The accusations of indiscretions, declarations of love, and instantaneous assumptions of guilt were enough to make me swear, *channeling Scarlett O’Hara clutching a handful of dirt*  “As God as my witness, I shall never date crazy as long as I live.”

Something I also hadn’t learned at the tender and impressionable young age of twenty one…never say never.  It wasn’t long after their break-up that my BFF and I became Frenemies – apparently my lack of support during their relationship was unforgivable.

 
I used to think jealous people were just drama junkies, until I found myself dating one.  In my defense, he wasn’t like the jealous people I’d known in the past.  He totally flew under the ‘crazy’ radar.  In his defense, he told me he was prone to jealousy when we started dating.  He was quiet and sweet…downright loving.  Not only was he interested in me, but he was very curious about my writing as well.  I thought I’d won the man-lotto, cause on top of his seemingly mature and manly demeanor, the sex was also fantastic.  I scoffed at his declarations of being a jealous man.  He was way to level-headed for such non-sense…plus I knew I’d never give him reason to be.

For several months I was walking around in a haze…seconds away from a sugary-sweet diabetic love-coma.  Then, it stopped.  He vanished!  I left a few messages and then stopped myself.  After all, (insert sassy head bobbing here) I was certainly not going to beg.  He finally did call, though.  When we met up to discuss, to his credit, he was completely honest.  I’d given him a rough draft of a book I’d been writing, the soon to be released, Dreaming of You.  He informed me that he’d stopped calling because the imaginary ‘dream man’ character in my fictional novel was nothing like him.  I kid you not, folks…not even I could make this shit up.  The man was jealous of my imagination!

While I did appreciate his honesty…I was also carefully sliding the silverware sitting on the table we were occupying away from him.  In the end, I of course had to jump off the express train to Crackertown, but I still to this day have never understood jealousy.  If there’s anyone out there who can suss this one out for me, I’m all ears.

For more info on the Giveaway go to:                                                                                                http://www.ethandayonline.com/
or
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/EthanDay/

Much Love

Okay, yeah, I’m gonna be a tad bitchy here but I’m wondering…What the heck is wrong with a HEA in real life? Is it too much to expect your spouse to understand the vows you took were not just sweet words said in a romantic setting? And at the first sign that life isn’t doves, roses, and champagne you stay and fight for the love that brought you together, not walk out the door for greener pastures. But wait! Suddenly (six months later) said spouse decides well, hell. Life really isn’t greener in the neighbors yard. All the guys…heck baby, they didn’t mean anything I want to come home. But what do you mean you stopped waiting for me two months ago? That can’t be…. Yes there are two sides to every story, guess what. I don’t want to hear it. Does that make me a bitch? Maybe. But you can’t walk out on a man who is on his knees begging you to stay, night after night. Leave for good(so you say) then beg for forgiveness when said man begins to move on. Especially when said man is my son. So am I a bitch. Yes I am. We’ll get to flirty next time.