I suffer from compression

    Unfortunately, I have the stomach flu today. I've probably been fighting it off for a few days because sleep seems too fleeting and blogging has nearly killed me with headaches. But I'm almost to my 365 day straight goal and I can't quit now.

    In the middle of the night I took some medicine and after going to sleep, I had THE WEIRDEST dream. I've had some strange ones lately, but this took the cake.
    A little man stood in front of me. "What you suffer from, my dear, is compression."

    "Excuse me?" I said.
    "Compression," he cleared his throat. "Everyone talks about depression. Well who cares if you're feeling a little lower than normal. Compression is what you need to be worried about."
    In my dream I just gawked at him and even thought to myself, I'm never taking cold medicine again.
    "Assuming you aren't completely nutty," I said. "What is compression?"
    "I'd worried about that."
    "What?"
    "That you'd be as dumb as you look. Compression is far worse than depression. You feel as if everything is closing in. Too many worries; too much on your plate until you feel out of control . . ."  He straightened his back, proud of himself.  "Compression."
    "And how am I supposed to fix this, oh mighty, SHORT one."
    "Simple," he smiled. "Become unpressed."
    "Like a shirt that hasn't been ironed?! Oh this is rich."
    "Laugh all you want," he said. "But there comes a time in everyone's lives where they can't do everything. Choices must be made. Things must be cut from your life, or you'll stay compressed FOREVER, until implosion occurs."
    With that he vanished and I woke up sweating. The Scribe brought me a thermometer because it was morning and she'd apparently been hovering over me for awhile. "What's your temperature," she asked me after I checked.
    "102.2," I said. "This whole thing is making me feel so tired . . . And utterly compressed."
    "What does that mean?" she asked.
    I just looked at her. "it's hard to explain, but some day I'm sure you'll understand."
    "Are you really going to write a blog today?"
    "Yes." I nodded. "I've almost blogged for a year straight, and I'm not going to mess this up now.  Compression, sickness or not, when I set a goal, I accomplish it or die trying."

"How to Lose a Tooth"

    About three years ago, the Scribe had a tooth which was barely loose.  She got excited, but it wasn't until my mom and dad asked her to have a sleep over, that the craziness began.
    "I HAVE to lose this tooth," the Scribe told the Hippie.
    "Why?  You just found out it's loose."
    "Because.  The tooth fairy at Noni and Papa's house is rich!  I don't know why ours doesn't have a lot of money, but I'm sure theirs does."
    So operation "Lose My Tooth Today" began.  The Scribe tried some very silly things.  She tied a string to her tooth and the door.  When that didn't work, she tied the string to her tooth and OUR DOG!
    Watching a kid run around the yard like that . . . I'm not sure if it should be funny, but it was.
    "What in the heck are you doing?" I finally said, trying to stop laughing.  
    The Scribe continued running after the dog she'd tied herself to.  "I'm trying to lose my tooth!" she hollered.  "But it won't . . . come . . . OUT!"
    I helped her after a moment, and then asked her and the Hippie to sit down.
    "Let's make a list," I said.  "Think of all the funniest ways you could try to lose a tooth.  Then if you want to, we can try some of these things."
    "I could scream it out," the Hippie said.  "In cartoons glass breaks when people scream.  That could totally happen with the Scribe's tooth."
    She tried it, but I just got a deaf ear.
    "She could punch it out!" the Scribe said, and I did notice that for the next hour, she started doing everything in her power to make the Hippie mad.
    It was a hilarious day, and I'm still shocked writing this, but we put her through so much,  HER TOOTH ACTUALLY FELL OUT!
    She went to the sleep over and the tooth fairy at Noni and Papa's house gave her twenty dollars!
     I immediately counted my teeth, touching each one with my tongue.  Fourteen on the top.  Fourteen on the bottom.  If I could just pull out all my teeth and stay at my parents' house, that was a house payment!
    I told my mom about it later and she laughed.  "The tooth fairy only pays for BABY TEETH, Honey."


    Anyway, it was a day I'll never forget.  We had so much fun, I took the list of ideas my kids came up with, made some illustrations and created a picture book.
    My kids smile every time we read it.  They helped me turn the ideas into cute rhymes.  They also helped model for the illustrations.
    I never really considered releasing the book to the public until the Scribe wanted to when "The Golden Sky" came out.  
    I thought I'd tell you all of this because "How to Lose a Tooth" is now available as an eBook.  
    It's free if you're a kindle Prime Member.
    Thanks for letting me share how this book came to be.  We really had a ball with it.  



 Available as an eBook! Only $2.99!

Grandma Gertie AND the Adult Streaker

   Yesterday, Fishducky asked an awesome question.  Here's what she said as well as my reply:

fishduckyJan 13, 2012 03:09 PM

So far it looks like The Scribe wants to become an artist, The Hippie wants to fly, & Dr. Jones is looking towards a career as a concert pianist. What do you see for The Zombie Elf in his future? I expect great things from all your kids!

Elisabeth HirschJan 13, 2012 03:21 PM 

      Maybe a nudist ROFLMAO! 

     (Although he told me he wants to make robots like Uncle Shane.)
     

    But the nudist thing--this whole topic reminded me of a hilarious story Grandma Gertie told me.
    If you know anything about Gertie, it's that she's one tough lady.  She helped me protect a house--with a billy club.  She helped me crash a wedding.  The woman is golden!
    Here are those stories if you're interested.  

Grandma Gertie and the Break-in Patrol

1. The Crazy Life of a Writing Mom: The Wedding Crashers; Part II

2. The Crazy Life of a Writing Mom: The Wedding Crashers; Part I

    She's the same woman who needed a boot for her Plantar's Faciitis (which causes pain in her heel).  But boots are $85.00!
    This is what she sent me when she discovered an alternative.

    I looked over at my garbage can and light went on in my head.  Even blind squirrels find a nut once in a while.  So I put my foot into the garbage can and it was just the right size. Felt like Cinderella.
    So for a $2.00 garbage can, pieces with Velcro from a another walking boot when I had my foot operated on, and about 50 cents in Gorilla tape, I now have a night boot for Plantar's Faciitis. 

   Look at what my Gertie made!  Isn't she awesome!

 

                              
    I just had to show you how neat she is--and ingenious.  
    Sorry for getting off track.  The real point of this post is to share a story Gertie wrote.  You NEED to read this because (my friends) you're in for a real treat!
     
                                                                      

Window Dressing

By: Grandma Gertie

    Growing up, we lived a mile and a half out of town. Neighbors were at least a quarter of a mile away from each other. We never locked our doors, night or day.
    The house's roof was shaped like a barn and the front porch had a rock wall that went around it and down the steps. The wall was about 3 ft high and wide enough to sit on. The heavy front door was made of wooden planks that would have withstood a battering ram. In the front door was a 12 inch  round window that we could see out of, but people could also see in.
    In front of the property to the right of the house was a rock building with a round window front of it that was floor to ceiling. It was called the "store building" because Mom and Dad had sold groceries from it at one time. Now it was just being used for storage.
    Along side the store building was a big hole in the ground. Dad had started digging the enormous hole for a  bomb shelter because everyone at the time thought the Russian's were coming.
    In back of the house was the adobe that Dad had built from clay, mud, and straw. It had four little rooms, and many a weary traveler that had broken down in front of our house had stayed there. It was warm in the winter and cool in the summer. Dad had decided to go to the adobe to sleep because it was too hot and noisy to sleep in the house.
    This particular summer night it was hotter than two rabbits making babies in a sock, so I put on some short cut off jeans to keep cool. I had come home from college for the summer.
    Three of my sisters and I wanted to stay up late and watch the movie "Mr. Hobbs Takes a Vacation." Mom was in the dining room sewing. She was always up late at night sewing something, ripping it out, and sewing it again. Never figured out why.
    I was sitting in the old rocking chair looking at the TV in the corner. The large living room window was across from me with the drapes drawn. There was a gap between the two curtains in the middle. All of a sudden I saw something flash by the window like it had fallen off the roof.
    I got up from my chair, walked to the front door and slid the lock closed, then I walked to the back door in the kitchen and locked it, too. I returned to the living room. As I sat down, there was a knock at the front door.
    What I had seen out of the gap in the curtains that I thought had fallen from the roof was someone standing on the rock wall trying to look into the living room. He had lost his balance and fell off the wall onto the grass. I looked out the little round window in the door and there to behold was a guy staring back at me. I screamed and he jumped back.
    I couldn't believe my eyes, there he was in all his glory, t-shirt rolled up to his neck and nothing on him but the t-shirt and tennis shoes, a pair of red Keds (women notice clothing; you know, what were you wearing during your first kiss). He didn't even have socks on.
    He said, "Let me in!" I knew how the three little pigs felt when the wolf came to the door. I screamed and kept screaming as I ran to the phone and called my brother-in law and older sister who were living in a trailer in the back yard. My brother-in-law thought it was a prank call and hug up on me.
    So I called the police. I was screaming when I talked to them and they couldn't figure out the address. Finally my sister Susan said, "Get a hold of yourself, or I am going to slap you into the middle of next week!" Then, she slapped me! It calmed me down enough to tell them where we lived.
    Mom walked calmly over to the front door and with her hand raised into a fist, she yelled,"You get out of here!" The nut job took off like a jack rabbit in heat.
    The police finally figured out where we lived and they sent two police cars with sirens blaring. When I heard them, I was sure it was safe to run to the adobe to get Dad. As I reached the door, I was screaming, "Dad, Dad, there's a naked guy loose."
    Before Dad could answer the door there were all kinds of flash lights on me. The police thought I was the guy because I was bare foot in a t-shirt with men's cut off jeans and really short hair.
When they realized that I wasn't the guy they started looking around the place.
    One of the policemen who was heavier than a dead preacher, fell into the bomb shelter hole. It took my Dad and two other policemen to pull him out with a rope. He lost his hat and had to come back for it the next day.
    That same policeman was always hitting something with his car. He had even hit a school bus. I don't know what made us think he could find a guy that was naked as a Jaybird.
    I went back to school that Fall and they still hadn't found the guy. Dad sent me an article from the paper about some of the hoity toity women of the community that were leaving one of the ladies homes from bridge club one night. The same guy in the t-shirt and Keds jumped out from behind the bushes, like a spring out of an old mattress, grabbed one of the ladies, reached up under her dress and pulled off her girdle. He ran off with it. The cops found a hypodermic needle in the bushes. They didn't know if it was his or not.
    Later that winter, the nut job was down by the dump and he knocked on the door of the trailer of the care taker of the dump. the nut job was cold, with only the t-shirt and Keds on. He told the guy he wanted to come in from the cold. The caretaker said, "Come on in and sit down." The caretaker gave the guy a sandwich, and the nut job tried to make a beeline for the door. When he did, the caretaker said," Now buddy, you see that big dog there? If you move I am going to tell him to make a woman out of you."
    He wasn't about to move. He was arrested, come to find out he was an escapee from a mental institution in Canada. He was married and had six kids.


    Thanks for letting me share Gertie with you.  I swear, life is good.  I'm surrounded by so many awesome, entertaining, brilliant people!  

    P. S. After 1/25, I'll have blogged every day for 365 days straight. I'd love it if you could vote and tell me what blog schedule you think I should stick to for the rest of 2012. 

Baby Schroeder . . . and a Zombie

    Since quitting my sewing business and pursuing a writing career, I've been teaching piano lessons to make extra money. Although Doctor Jones (my one-year-old daughter) isn't supposed to be in the room when I teach, sometimes she'll toddle downstairs, hide in the corner and listen. Her big, blue eyes will stare over the side of the couch right before she ducks when I spot her. I always pretend like I just missed her and that's when she giggles. We had a moment like that this week, but after my student left, Doctor Jones started acting funny.
    That one-year-old is hilarious and fun. She's short and petite. Her hair is so curly it barely hangs past her hairline although it's actually over five inches long in places. If I could pick one word to describe Doctor Jones, it wouldn't be about her obvious cuteness or her darling personality. Instead, I would pick the word "spicy." She'll face huge four-year-old bullies at the play land. When she met Melynda's dog (from Crazy world), that St. Bernard stood over twice her height. Yet, when the dog turned toward Doctor Jones--his head bigger than hers, his mouth open and tongue pulsing sporadically--she just stomped, glaring at his mouth, and said, "No. NO!"
    Anyway, the other day, Doctor Jones, grabbed my hand and then her brother's (the Zombie Elf). She pulled us toward the couch and said sternly, "Sit," as if we were just huge dogs she faced.
    We sat and watched as our little doctor tried spreading a blanket in the corner of the room. She put it as nicely as she could. After a moment, a pillow rested in the center--one of my NICE pillows I'd hid--and Doctor Jones delicately placed a toy piano on the pillow.
    Now, that piano is hilarious. Grandma Gertie bought it for Ms. Jones awhile back. It has five brightly-colored keys. If you hit even one key, the piano will play a long classical song.
    Doctor Jones looked at me and the Zombie Elf. She nodded like that was the height of classiness. Then, she awkwardly sat down on the other side of the piano. "Hi, Ma." She addressed me. "Hi," her eyes turned to the zombie, "Ma," she said again.
    She did something as if clearing her sweet baby throat, put her hands toward the fake piano and closed her eyes. That's when she hit one of the keys, only one. She swayed as the music wrapped around us. My Zombie Elf who is normally a wild man, smiled up at me and tried not laughing. "My baby is so funny," he whispered.
    "Shhh!" Doctor Jones glared at us and put her finger to her lips as the music continued. She closed her eyes again and the Zombie Elf tried even harder not to laugh.
    As I watched Doctor Jones, I couldn't help feeling silly. So, maybe that's what I look like when I play. I've never realized, but my eyes always stay closed while at the piano. I probably sway back and forth while the notes resonate with beauty.
    The Zombie Elf snuggled close to me and sucked on his finger (a habit we need to break before he turns four). At the end of the song, Doctor Jones stood on her shaky baby feet and started clapping. The Zombie and I cheered for her, after all, it WAS her first concert.
    I couldn't help smiling as I gathered both of my babies into my arms. There are some moments of parenthood that make all the poopies, snot and crying worth it. That concert was one of those moments. I'll never forget the joy as I hugged her and said "good baby." I'll also never forget the Zombie Elf and how much love shone in his eyes. He'd called her 'my baby.' 
    Who cares that moments later, when  I said the Zombie could have a concert of his own, a HUGE fight broke out between the two of them. They played tug-o-war with the piano.  Batteries flew everywhere.  My NICE pillow almost got ruined.  The blanket became an even worse rumpled mess and I had to be the bad guy. 
    The Zombie Elf did get a concert where I clapped and cheered.  But Doctor Jones didn't clap very hard, after all, she was watching from "the pen."
    Who cares that the day quickly deteriorated AFTER THAT! 

     What I'll choose to remember is my baby Schroeder and her brother who was so proud just being in the audience of two.  After all, isn't that one of the best things in life, being able to build each other up, so we can all succeed. 

A Could-be Stripper

    I woke up on the wrong side of the bed.  Maybe I was still working through the whole "pigeon" thing I wrote about yesterday.  Who knows, but the fact remained I wasn't in a good mood.
    Errands and chores awaited us.  My phone died.  I got a used phone.  We went to the bank and that's when things escalated.  The Zombie Elf stood behind me.  The teller pointed in my boy's direction, "Your son's getting naked."
    I laughed without even looking.  "He won't actually get naked.  He's all show, just trying to make a scene and get attention."
    But when I turned he WAS almost naked, and everyone stared!  
    I quickly put his clothes on--after turning red--and tried smoothing things over with the elderly teller.  "You know how it goes.  You have any kids?"
    "No," she said barely keeping a grimace from her face.  "I never wanted . . . children."
    So, we left and went to the mall; after all, I needed a charger for my used phone.  Two stores rested next to each other in the middle of the place.  I looked at each kiosk.  One was a T-Mobile, while the other said, "Used phones and accessories REAL cheap."
    "How much for a charger?" I asked the T-Mobile representative.
    "Thirty bucks."
    I tried acting nonchalant as I quickly turned, pretended to go near a toy store, then doubled back to the used phone kiosk.  The T-Mobile rep had seen me though--I'd make a bad spy--and he glared at me as I asked his competitor, "How much for a charger?"
    The used phone rep seemed a bit stuffy.  I judged him then.  I imagined how he'd just come back from a religious mission.  He probably thought life was made of peaches and cream.  He was a virgin--obviously, his flowered bow tie proved that.  
    I didn't mind him really, just the way he looked at me, the Zombie Elf and Doctor Jones (my two babies).  It also bothered me that the other rep--the T-Mobile one--wouldn't stop giving me the hairy eyeball for going to the other place!
    "Wow, your kids are busy."
    I just turned to him and with my face I said, Ya think.  Pretty boy, life ain't made from peaches 'n cream, not always.
    I tried striking up a simple conversation about what charger I'd need, but he was too busy straightening his tie to move fast.
    "Wow, look at that," I said, pointing to a tablet the size of a brick.  "I remember when cellphones used to be that big.  It was terrible calling anyone."
    "Seriously?" the young guy said.  "You actually remember cell phones . . . being that big?"
    I felt old--really old.  "Yep.  I'm ancient."
    Then out of nowhere.  "Your kid," the guy suddenly blurted.  "I think he's getting naked."
    Why does my son do this to me?  It's not cool to undress EVERYWHERE.  Tellers don't want to see his dingle berry.  Phone reps don't want to see it as he jumps up and down clapping his three-year-old hands.  IIIIII  don't want to see it--every flippin time I turn around!
    But that's beside the point. 
    The real issue remained, the rep had sickened me with his innocence and youth, and I don't know why, but I was finally sick of being Pollyanna.  
    The Zombie Elf had taken off his socks and shoes.  He was about to take off his pants fully, right there, IN THE MIDDLE OF THE MALL.
    "Quit that, will ya," I said in a loud voice.  "I told ya, if you're gonna be a stripper, at least do it where you'll make some money.  That's what I do, anyway."
    The rep's mouth dropped.  I never realized it, but I must have a pretty good poker face.
And although I've never been a fan of strip clubs, I LOVED them in that moment.
    The guy stuttered.  He fumbled with the charger he'd just picked up.  That Einstein, looked me up and down (as if it wasn't an obvious gesture), then after nodding and probably thinking I might be a stripper, he turned back to the chargers and blinked hard looking horrified.
    I helped my boy get his clothes back on.  When it was time for the rep to ring me up, he seemed so nervous you wouldn't believe it.  "That'll be ten dollars," he said, clearing his throat.  "Ma'am."
   I leaned in real close.  The day had gone so bad, I couldn't help but have a little bit of fun.  "Did you notice that other rep, the T-Mobile one?" I whispered.
    He didn't even nod.  He just stared at me sideways, a cool sweat breaking over his forehead.  .
    "Well, he keeps giving me the hairy eyeball," I said.  "I know it's terrible, but I can't help feeling like I'm cheating on his store," I turned completely to the guy, "with yours."
    I swear the guy looked like he might have an accident.  I still can't believe what I'd done, but it was the most hilarious thing.  We sauntered away after that and I realized being a stripper wouldn't be too bad.  I called Cade as soon as I left.
    "I scared the crap out of some guy.  He really thought I was a stripper."
    "Oh. My. Hell!  Elisa."  Cade laughed for a long time.
    "Not bad for someone who remembers cell phones being the size of bricks!  I feel really great," I said.
    "Because someone thought you were a stripper?" he asked.
    "Well, yeah.  Kind of.  I mean seriously, how many women actually know what it's like being a stripper--who doesn't have to take her clothes off?!"
    He snorted.  "You're something else, you know that?"
    "No," I said.  "But at least I know what I can pass for."
    "You still can't dance.  So don't be getting any ideas."
    "Details . . . details," I said.  "Just don't ruin the moment.  I had a terrible day up until that point, and I refuse to let anything get me down."
    "Nice," he said.  "You aren't a stripper, though.  Thank God."
    "I don't know." I laughed into the phone.  "Pretending to be one . . . that's practically like jumping out of a plane."
    "Without a shoot," he said, and I laughed so hard, thinking about how much I love that man.
"Are you shocked that I did it?" I asked after a moment.

Nope," he said. "After your toilet stunt nothing phases me."

I Got a LOVE Letter!!!

Disclaimer:   
    In some ways I'm a humanist.  I don't judge people based on religion, political affiliation or sexual preference.  I will however cringe if someone acts like a snob. 
    I LOVE God.  
    I think everyone has the potential to be a good, valiant, amazing person if they just try because yes, sometimes doing the right thing can take some effort.  With that being said, the following experience is HILARIOUS and I don't mean for it to be offensive in any way.  Neither, do I want to get bashed because I don't judge people for anything other than their actions which hurt others.

    Do you remember this post?

The PS Princess

    Basically, I met a snooty woman (in overly-tight jeans) who thought I was a lesbian--because I wore a hoodie!  It was strange honestly, but I'm still laughing about it because this week, someone took that post to a whole new level.
    I have THE BEST followers in the world.  In real life, people always take me wrong--constantly.  But here, you 'get me' and this just proves it.
    I had a nice cup of coffee.  My inbox poured over with so many messages from twitter, I knew I wouldn't be able to read all of them.  That's when I spotted something strange; the subject of the message read "To My Precious Pigeon."
    I opened it right away because if you know anything it's that pigeon messages are worth something.
    That's when I realized it was a love letter--a full-blown, knock your socks off, love letter--to me!

    My dearest, darling, sexy Elisa,
 
    The letter began and I nearly spewed coffee everywhere.  I still giggle thinking about Sex Ed..  I couldn't believe someone sent me a letter and THEY USED THE "S" WORD!  I took a moment to compose myself, then I read on.
 
    I've been reading your blog, always have . . . always will.
    You don't know me, but our love reminds me of two pigeons.  One can walk by the other, helping each other along.
    I saw two pigeons the other day, and shockingly I thought of you.  It's wonderfully poetic seeing birds that strut.

   The email went on and on, getting so silly that I fell into such a fit of laughter, tears streamed down my face.  

    I will always feel passion toward you, and your crazy heart which beats to the bird-like beat of mine.

                             Yours forever,

                                   Cindy

    I paused then.  Cindy?  CINDY!  

    Sure, the whole thing was a joke.  I mean hell, the sender's address was something about "pigeon love."  But Cindy--a woman?  I finally get a love letter--after months of feeling over the hill--HINT HINT Cade--write me a poem today--and it was from a woman?!  Does everyone think I'm a lesbian?  

    Unfortunately, I'd taken a sip of coffee and it nearly went down the wrong pipe because I started hooting at the computer as I read the ending.

 

    P.S. I so enjoyed your post about the PSer.

    So, they mentioned the lesbian post--a ha!  I responded with some ridiculous thing.

    Pigeons are such lovely birds.  Thank you for this ingenious letter.  I hope love will find you elsewhere because I'm married . . . and . . . I don't swing that way.
    
     I didn't get a reply.  And later I talked to a friend.  
    "Let me get this straight."  She started snorting.  "Straight, get it?"
    "Ha ha.  I got it."
    "Someone reported your blog as offensive, but you saw the good in that.  Now you got some stalker-crazy love letter . . . and you think it's a sign that someone likes your blog and is teasing you?"
    "Well, yeah."
    "When you read me the letter, it sounded pretty real to me."
    "Pigeons?" I scoffed.  "No one writes real letters about pigeon love.  Plus, I DO NOT look like I prefer women--seriously."
    "Well, you did swear on something and spit the other day.  That could be misconstrued as being a brute.  People might think you're masculine.  And you ALWAYS wear that hoodie."
    "Back up!  What is wrong with hoodies?  Since when does that signify anything?"
    "Since it has a rainbow on it."
    "It's a Lucky Charms hoodie!  So I like cereal logos, big deal."  I rolled my eyes.  "Anyway.  This was a joke.  I just know it."
    "No you don't.  But even if it was, who would do something like that?"
    "One of my witty followers," I said.  "Haven't you read their comments?  Most of the time they're funnier than the blog post."
    "Maybe," she said.  "What about your brother?"
    "Yeah, but he wouldn't do this.  He's more into robots and fake bombs.  When he pranks me, it's the art of an engineer."

    Her feedback did not help me, though.  This started out as a joke--I KNOW IT--but now I'm second-guessing myself.  The whole thing brought back memories from high school.  I had a huge crush on a guy.  He was handsome and smart.  One day after school we talked next to a piano in the choir room.  I leaned against it, trying to stand so my waist looked smaller and my legs looked longer.  (It's embarrassing, but I even pushed my chest out.)
    He got really close at one point, then shook his head and stepped away.  "You're great, Elisa," he said.  "You could even turn a gay guy straight."
    He left after that, and the next year, I found out he was gay.  I'd pushed my chest out--FOR NOTHING.
    His words always stuck with me, though.  Maybe he thought I was masculine.  Maybe even he thought I liked pigeons.

    Regardless, I got a love letter--which feels awesome even if it was a joke.  Thanks to whoever wrote it.  I haven't smiled that big since Tebow proved everyone wrong.


    In closing, have you ever heard a strange pick-up line, or received a strange love letter?
    
    Signing off,
           Elisa

The Day I Flew Like SUPERMAN

    Before starting this post, let me tell you, I was interviewed again, but this time I must have been drinking.  I can't believe how silly I got!
    For example, look how I answered these two questions:


When did you know you wanted to be a writer?

     I swear, I slid out of the womb and handed my mom a story I’d been writing for the last trimester.  It’s the way I deal with things whether I’m getting knit together in my mama’s belly, creating ridiculous stories, or dealing with difficult times that make it hard to breathe.  

When you start to write a new novel, what is the process for you? Do you have the story worked out, or do you just kind of wing it as you go?

     "The Golden Sky" was my journal before I revised it for publication.  Putting it out in the public is like opening my ribs and showing everyone what makes my heart beat.  I’ve never been much on watching open-heart surgery, but I think it’s for the best this time. 

    For more of that . . . ummm silliness, please go here to this amazing page for author interviews.  Oh and to find my interview, go to the page, hit ctrl F and then type "Elisa" in the box that will appear on the bottom of your screen.

    Guest Author Interviews

    Now, onto the post of the day.
    Last week Fishducky sent me this picture from her zero gravity flight.  Isn't she awesome!

    She'd included a fun story called "The Day I Flew Like Superman."  Well, the Scribe and the Hippie ADORE Fishducky as much as I do.  So, I knew they'd love the picture.
    Both of them stared at it for a long time.
    "Has that picture been edited?" the Hippie asked.
    "Nope."  
    "That's not real, right?"
    "It's absolutely real," I said.
    The Scribe nodded.  "I love that woman.  You can tell she's fun AND she loves to draw.  Look at her face; we kinda look alike."
    "Yeah, I could see that," I said.
    "It's because we both have . . . the face of an artist."  She smiled then, a huge grin I wish I'd captured on camera.  "You know what, Mom . . . I want to be like her when I grow up, then I'll be an amazing artist."
     The Hippie nodded, "I want to be like her too, but I don't want to be an artist, I just want to learn how to fly."  
    

    Without further ado, I'd like to introduce the famous Fishducky (the one who knows how to fly)!

  

The Day I Flew Like SUPERMAN

    Three years ago, I gave myself the thrill of a lifetime.  For my 74th birthday I went on a zero gravity flight.  This was the same kind of plane the astronauts trained in—NOT a simulator.  Since I walk with a cane, my husband asked me how I thought I would be able to do that.  I told him that I wouldn’t be walking, I would be floating!  I was, of course, the oldest person on the flight.
     We took off from Burbank, CA in a stripped down 727 (about 35 seats left on the plane & all in the back) & quickly gained altitude.  Just like when you’re on a roller coaster & you feel yourself lifting out of your seat on the downhill runs you lessen gravity when the plane is in a steep dive.  The angle of the dive determines how strong the pull of gravity is.  This climbing & diving arc is called a parabola.  The astronauts called it the “vomit comet” because they made so many parabolas.  Most people don’t feel nauseous until after 20 parabolas—our flight had 15.  Nobody got sick.  The low to zero gravity periods lasted about 15 seconds each.
     Our instructors had us lie face down on the floor before each dive.  On the first dive gravity was that of Mars—about 1/3 of Earth.  The next two were that of the moon—about 1/6 of Earth.  During these (& I am NO athlete) I did one handed pushups to a standing position.
    Parabolas 4-15 were ZERO GRAVITY.  I pushed myself off the bulkhead, straightened my arms & flew like Superman.  I got into a fetal position & my instructor gave me a push & I rolled over & over in midair.  I laid on my back & linked arms with a few other people & we lifted our legs & did a backward somersault in unison.  We swallowed M&M’s and globules of water that were floating by.
It was--WITHOUT A DOUBT—the most fun I ever had in my life, with or without my clothes on!  It was, however, very expensive, in the range of $5,000--& worth every cent.  (My philosophy is that money is like fertilizer—no good unless you spread it around.)  I sent each of my kids a thank you note since I figured it was coming out of their inheritance.  I did the same thing when I bought myself a BMW a few years before.  Yes, thank you, I AM polite.  

    For more posts by Fishducky, please visit these two wonderful sites.

My Friend Fishducky

Fishducky and the Foriegn Rolls

What's That Smell--Seriously?!

    After something happened yesterday, I COULD NOT wait to write this story.  But before I do, I have some exciting news . . .

    Another review for "The Golden Sky" went up at:  

Mommy Book Picks

    Don't forget, today is January 6th (the Epiphany), the last day my eBook will be listed as 99 cents HERE on Smashwords.

     (For kindle it's 2.99 HERE on Amazon.) 

    Also, I wrote a guest post for my amazing friend, Melynda at:  

Crazy world

    Now, onto the post of the day.

    I woke up very early and wrote about clams yesterday--yuck.  After completely downing my coffee, I stood and walked right into someone!  
    I wanted to scream.  It was super early, dark and cold.  The only person who likes the morning as much as I do is the Scribe.  But this wasn't the Scribe; this person had long curly hair and a lasting peace when she talked.  I knew after a moment, it was the Hippie--my night owl.

    I love that girl.  If you can picture Mother Teresa as a kid, she'd be like the Hippie.  She's sweet and kind. She's a lot like Dee (from coming home to myself) because she's so completely good.  The Hippie doesn't rig traps or tell scary stories like the Scribe does.  No, the Hippie always wants to be sweet and kind.  That's why what happened next surprised me so much.

    We were alone in the kitchen.  I flipped on the light, and as I did so, an awful smell overtook me.

    "Hippie," I said, "Did you just . . . fart?"  (I know it's terrible, I said the "F" word around baby Teresa, but it had to be done.)

    "No."  She shook her head, sniffing.  "I'm embarrassed you'd even ask me that."

    Now, the great thing about a fart and TWO PEOPLE is that you always know who did it.  The power of deduction can be such an amazing thing.  
    "Hippie.  We're alone.  I certainly did not fart. So, that means YOU did."  I wanted to cackle, laugh into the foul air because I felt like Sherlock Holmes!

    "No, I didn't.  I wouldn't.  If I need to . . . do that . . . I go into the bathroom and shut the door."

    I sniffed again, and it shocked me how a gallon of coffee couldn't wake me up quite like the smell of sulfur in the morning. 

    "Maybe something went bad in the fridge," she said and had me believing her SO MUCH, I opened the fridge and rummaged through.

    "Nothing in here," I said as the smell dissipated.  I made her some hot cocoa after that, then while we sat talking, the smell came back like an evil boomerang!

    "Hippie . . . I won't tolerate lying.  Did. You. Fart?"

    "I hate that word," she said.  "It sounds so terrible."

    "Sometimes people have to use terrible words, for terrible smells.  Now, answer the question.  Did you almost kill me with that smell?"

    "I didn't.  I think you're the one!"

    "The great thing about farting," I said.  "Is that you know when you're guilty."

    "So, maybe we're smelling your feet."

    I just looked at her.  

    "The other great thing about it."  She paused.  "Is that you can't smell your own.  THAT'S how I know you're guilty. I can definitely smell this one.  So . . . IT'S YOURS, Mom."

    We were like two gunslingers, ready to fight to the death.
    "It wasn't me," my voice quivered with anger.
    "Oh.  Yes. IT.  WAS!  Don't lie, Mother.  That's being a bad example.  Mothers aren't supposed to fart AND lie!"
    "A bad example?  But it wasn't me.  I was a perfect example today."

    "Mom, something's been bothering me."  She looked up, staring right into my eyes.

    "Okay," I said, because something bothered me, too.

    "I just breathed something that died, then escaped from your butt," she said, suddenly looking so ill.

    "But that wasn't me," I said.

    "And it couldn't have been me because I can still smell it. Plus, I make pooders, not farts.  They're better 'cause I'm a kid AND I'm a girl."

    So, she still never confessed and now she freaks out when anyone makes . . . "a smell."  She'll cover her mouth and run into the nearest room.  You'd think it was poisonous gas--when probably it's just her own potent fumes!  I'm never making bean soup again.

    Have you ever experienced something like this?  Why is it that kids put us through these strange moments?

    Plus, maybe my kid was like Mother Teresa, but yesterday all of that changed.  After all, I don't think saints fart, not really.  

The Clam Lover

    Why do people get offended so easily?  I went to a case-lot sale yesterday.  I didn't comb my hair or anything because I was so excited to get to the store before everyone else.  It was super-awesome.  I'm sure I looked like a gem, with wild hair and make-up just on one eye (the left one).  Anyway, there was a wind in my sails; I felt like I could fly because sometimes there's nothing quite like saving money so we can still make the house payment.  
    While walking through the store, I saw a huge sign for chicken soup--that sounded fantastic with carrots and chicken in REAL broth--so I bought a huge case of the stuff.  I even saved 75%; see why it's good to shop early!  Too bad when I got home, Clam Chowder filled the case NOT Chicken Noodle soup.  
    I called my friend, "Hey, I thought it was chicken noodle.  I can't hack this stuff, though.  But since I know you, I figured your family might like it.  You seem like a clam lover."
    Then, that woman--who I wanted to give a whole case of 75%-off soup to--FOR FREE--acted all butt-hurt.  "I seem like . . . a clam lover?" she asked, as if that's worse than going to Hell.  "What is that supposed to mean?"
    "That you love clams . . ." I paused trying to make things better, "and you look like it."
    "What made you think that?" she asked and I decided, she should be a lawyer.
    "Ummm . . . well, I guess it's because you're so . . . tough and so are clams."
    "Clams aren't tough.  They're elasticy."
    "That's what I meant.  'Cause clams are elasticy and you're so good at bouncing back from bad things.  You're a . . . survivor, like a clam."
    "Like the dead clams in the soup you want to give me?"
    Silence.
    "But you don't like clams?" she said.  "And you're comparing me to them . . . because I'm tough?"
    "Well, no."
    "But I'm like a clam?"

    The conversation went nowhere fast.  I just wanted to get rid of some soup, not a good friend!  What could I say to get out of the bad situation?  I could say mermaids like clams and she was beautiful like a mermaid . . . No, the last comparison had crashed and burned.  I could say only the smartest people like clams, but then I'd sound like an idiot!  
    The point was, I'd just been trying to give her something she'd love and in a cutesy--fun, Elisa way.  I didn't want to call and say in a monotone, "Do you want some clam chowder?"
    "You're like a clam, but only in a good, great sense."  I sighed into the phone.  "Do you want the soup or not?"
   "Yeah, I'll pick it up tonight."
   "Is five good?" I asked.
   "That's perfect."
    "Hey," I said before she hung up because I couldn't help myself.  "I'm glad you're a clam-lover."
    "You got that right," she said before giggling into the phone.  "You're fun to mess with."
    "So are you," I said although I hadn't messed with anyone and she'd scared the crap out of me.
    I'm still not sure why, but I'll never look at clam chowder the same again.  I almost lost a friend over the stuff.  Really thinking about it, it's no wonder I hate clams so much.

Doctor Jones and the Fountain of Youth; Part II

    I used the skin cream and when I woke up the next day, my girls were amazed.  "You're so . . . different.  Your skin looks beautiful!  You look like a teenager!"
    Really?  After one night I'd lost ten years?
    "That Olay stuff can be dangerous," the Scribe said later.  "It made you look younger, imagine what it could do to us."
    Apparently my girls decided against stealing the regenerating cream of awesomeness.  A few days passed, and I had to do some HEAVY editing on my upcoming books.
    "Can you watch Doctor Jones for an hour?" I asked my girls.  
    The Hippie nodded, but she's only seven and she forgets about the kids--I needed the Scribe to help, too.  
    The Scribe slumped and I couldn't understand it.  She's ten, doesn't that mean she's required to love babysitting?  If the kid could stop imagining things--for two seconds--she'd be an AMAZING sitter!
    "I'll pay you," I told her.
    "Great, but it better be more than four quarters.  You can't fool me with that kind of thing any more."
    I edited and the children had a terrible time.  That's when the Scribe started telling a ghost story again.  Why does she tell scary stories EVERY TIME there's a live audience?
    I stood at the top of the stairs and watched them for a moment.  "A mother put some of the cream on her body," the Scribe said, "and each day she got younger and younger, until she became a baby and her own ten-year-old, responsible and beautiful daughter had to raise her.
    "It was a good thing the mother had treated her nicely and always paid her good for babysitting because the mom was a baby now!  And otherwise the daughter might have given her mommy-baby vegetables to eat at every meal!"

    The Hippie gasped.  "And never give her candy?"
    "Never," the Scribe said and continued telling the story.  Doctor Jones toddled off with the Zombie Elf.  They were suddenly more interested in the piano than the story.  Although the Scribe and Hippie didn't notice what the babies were doing, I figured they'd be okay for a bit while I edited.
    So, I stopped listening after that because the Scribe is such a ham, it's just life.  It wasn't until I'd almost finished working that I heard how quiet it was downstairs.
    "Hello?" I asked.
    "Don't say a word," the Scribe elbowed the Hippie.
    "Ummm . . ." I walked down the stairs and into the TV room.  There were two empty water bottles by the baby.  The Scribe had wrapped Doctor Jones in a huge blanket so I only saw her two blue eyes and curly hair poking from the blanket burrito.
    "Keep giving her the water," the Scribe said to the Hippie.
    "What are you doing?  The baby's sweating; she's so hot."
    "Is she sweating, oh good she is."  The Scribe nodded.  "Good job, Hippie.  We're almost there."
    "That's it. You better tell me what's going on," I said.
    "Well," the Hippie said as she tried giving the baby more water.  "While the Scribe told a scary story, the baby . . . got into your skin cream."
    "What?!"
    The Scribe looked upset.  "Hippie, I told you not to say anything.  This is fine.  I've got it covered."
    "And," the Hippie ignored her sister and went on.  "She put it all over herself.  We're terrified, Mom.  Don't let the Scribe watch us anymore!"  
    I turned to the Scribe.  "Why is she wrapped in a blanket?  And why are you making her drink water?"
    "We . . . Fine, you wanna know . . . I figured if we gave her a bunch of water and made her hot, then she'd sweat it out."
    I sat down by the baby.  "It's just lotion.  She's fine."
    "Oh, how would it be if things were that simple?" the Scribe said.  "Mom, she IS NOT fine.  Didn't you hear what grandma said?  That cream will keep you young.  The baby is hard enough to take care of.  Do you really want her to be a baby forever?!"
    I hugged the baby and although she was wet, her skin smelled awfully nice.  "The skin cream helps keep your skin young.  It doesn't make you younger."  It took awhile, but I finally explained things.
    "Oh," the Scribe said.  "I thought it was like magic medicine or something.  Look at Grandma's face!  We keep getting bigger and she never looks older."   
    "'Cause she's lucky.  I wish that's how the skin cream really worked, though.  Wouldn't it be cool if it could keep you young forever.  You're all so much fun, I'd be putting it on you every day."
    "Even the baby?" the Scribe asked.
    "Yes," I smiled, not even caring about wrinkles, "even the baby."

Doctor Jones and the Fountain of Youth; Part I

    In September I got a gray hair--trust me I remember the moment VIVIDLY!
 
    In October, I got another gray hair, then something weird happened to my hip.  The doctor said I need to take care of it, or I could end up as an old lady who needs a hip replacement.  
    P. S. What the hell was that about?  I'm twenty-eight.  I don't want to hear about the hip replacement I'll need when I'm in diapers!
    Anyway, the doc made me realize, though; I won't live forever--shocker.

    In November, my two gray hairs got married and multiplied.  Then to top everything off, FIVE wrinkles decided to stay on my face--permanently.  I didn't notice them until my mother pulled me aside and sweetly said, "You're almost twenty-nine.  Now is the time to start taking care of your skin."
    Is twenty-nine the age of death or something?  Did I miss some vital piece of information.  I thought I was supposed to hold a funeral for myself when I turn thirty NOT twenty-nine.
    "Seriously?" I asked her.
    "Look is this mirror," she said and pulled out a mirror that made my nose look as big as my head.  "See those laughter-lines around your mouth--you've been smiling A LOT.  See those questioning lines on your forehead?"
    "Thanks, for this inspirational talk, Mom."  The Scribe and Hippie walked into the room at that point.  I wanted to smile at them, but I didn't--smiling made my wrinkles worse--I gave them a thumbs-up instead!  "So, what am I supposed to do about it, other than never use that mirror again?"

    My mom studied me, tapped her cheek and nodded.  "I have just the thing."
    The Scribe, Hippie and I followed my mother like she was a mystical apothecary who lived in an ancient castle.
    "Ah.  That's it!" she said.  "This will keep you young."
    "What in the world . . . is that?" the Scribe asked, breathlessly.
    "Regenerating skin cream," I read.  "By Olay."
     "Oh, my gosh," the Hippie said.  "Olay!  It's practically magical."
    Later that night, the Scribe and Hippie whispered.  "Now we know grandma's secret!  We have to find that skin cream."

    To be continued tomorrow . . .

I'm so happy, it's my first book fair!

    Excitement fills the air--seriously it does.  I can feel it because I'm that happy--and to think, I'm not even wearing my favorite boots.   

    I woke up with a skip in my step, and went outside into the cold, morning air.  It felt crisp against my skin--and new!  I could taste the beauty around me, the pure joy of being alive.  I just stood there for the longest time in my fleece pj's that smell like a new air freshener, no kidding.       

    A man ran past.  He wore earmuffs and a huge coat.  He looked at me funny as he went by.  Didn't he know what a beautiful morning it is--that change is dancing in the wind?!  Who cares if I had rollers in my hair!     

    Anyway, I came to tell you that good things wait in the future.  Maybe life isn't always easy, but if we hope and will ourselves to be strong, it's amazing what we can make it through.     

    I've seen some hard times: being homeless; losing a child.  But I've also witnessed some miracles along the way.  Today, I'm embracing the excitement and refusing to be scared of tomorrow.  Because no matter what, even the hard times can be beautiful.  How could we have miracles (or even good stories) without a little conflict.         

    Back to the point, though.  There's another reason I'm excited; it's because today I'm in my first book fair.  This is amazing and I feel so privileged.  Plus, I found something else that makes me happier than boots and coffee!     

    I hope you'll have a ball checking out these newly released books; I know I did.  I can't wait to read them.     

    Here's wishing you a beautiful Monday!     

  

Welcome to the . . . 

 

 

    Did you get a new Kindle, Nook, or iPad for Christmas? Browse the Indie Book Fair and find a new ebook!

    These great books were released Nov 2011-Feb 2012 by Indie authors, priced right so that checking out a new author doesn’t have to cost a fortune. (Check out the previous Internet Book Fair for other great Indie finds.)

    Note: Links are given for Amazon, but most authors are published in all e-book formats. Click on the author’s name for additional purchasing options, including paper copies.

For Your Browsing Pleasure

Contemporary (Adult)

 

Build a Man by Talli Roland (Chick Lit) 

Slave to the rich, rude and deluded, cosmetic surgery receptionist Serenity Holland longs for the day she's a high-flying tabloid reporter. Unfortunately, every pitch she sends out disappears like her clients' liposuctioned fat, never to be seen again. Then she meets Jeremy Ritchie -- the hang-dog man determined to be Britain's Most Eligible Bachelor by making himself over from head to toe and everything in between -- giving Serenity a story no editor could resist. With London's biggest tabloid on board and her very own column tracking Jeremy's progress from dud to dude, Serenity is determined to be a success, even going undercover to gain intimate access to Jeremy's life. But when Jeremy's surgery goes drastically wrong and Serenity is ordered to cover all the car-crash goriness, she must decide how far she really will go for her dream job. $0.99 on Amazon

 

The Golden Sky by EC Stilson (That's me--yahoo!)  (Memoir) 

The night I met Cade I never would’ve thought that two years later, after we were homeless street musicians in Hawaii, we would have a little girl and another baby on the way.  Our son was born with the type of birth defects that make televangelists cringe. The “death home” gave him a really nice funeral, the kind I’d never wished to attend. We lost it after that, totally cemented in our grief.  Cade got into drugs, joined a rock and roll band, and I kicked him out of the house. That was how I met: Earl (an old man and unlikely best friend), the “big sag” (a middle aged woman who still flashed folks), Todda (the stripper next door), and Chris (a cowboy who fell in love with me). It wasn’t until I killed a rogue skunk, and my daughter nearly choked on a fry, that I gave my husband another chance.  But could our marriage recover from the death of our son? $2.99 on Amazon

Someone Else’s Fairytale by E.M. Tippetts (Contemporary Romance) 

Jason Vanderholt is the hottest actor under thirty with legions of screaming fans. Chloe Winters is a college student who hasn't gotten around to watching most of his movies. When they meet by chance, he is smitten, but it just isn't her fairytale. In fact, it could be her worst nightmare as her past, attracted by the bright lights of the media, comes back to haunt her. $0.99 on Amazon

Historical Romance (Adult)

The Duke’s Divorce by Anne Gallagher Available late January 2012

A simple trip to the Scottish Highlands finds the Duke of Cantin with a bride he does not want.  With her impeccable beauty and fiery disposition, Fiona takes Society by storm.  As their prearranged divorce proceedings draw near, can Fiona change his mind? Check author's website.

Literary Fiction

String Bridge by Jessica Bell 

Greek cuisine, smog and domestic drudgery was not the life Australian musician, Melody, was expecting when she married a Greek music promoter and settled in Athens, Greece. Keen to play in her new shoes, though, Melody trades her guitar for a 'proper' career and her music for motherhood. That is, until she can bear it no longer and plots a return to the stage—and the person she used to be. However, the obstacles she faces along the way are nothing compared to the tragedy that awaits ... $6.99 on Amazon ALSO:  Music Sample!

Mystery

Sherwood Ltd. by Anne R. Allen

Sherwood. $2.99 on Amazon

Short Stories and Anthologies

The Initiate (Cloud Prophet Trilogy) by  Megg Jensen (YA Fantasy)

Over a thousand years ago, the gods left Eloh's people and took their magic with them. To win back their favor, her people sacrifice ten female initiates every ten years. No has ever survived. There has never been a Chosen One. Forced into becoming an initiate, Eloh will try to find a way to beat the odds, stay with her boyfriend, and survive the fires that threaten to consume her. But will her lack of faith in the gods and her disbelief in their magic doom her to a painful death? $0.99 on Amazon

Eight by Karly Kirkpatrick (YA Paranormal Short Story Collection)

Prepare to be thrilled and chilled by Kirkpatrick's eight short tales in EIGHT. These eight stories, while short, pack a big punch. There are demon spirits, zombies, and even some human baddies. Each story comes complete with author's commentary. It also includes the previously unreleased short Grenades. $0.99 on Amazon

{CoverComingSoon} In His Eyes by The Indelibles (YA Anthology) - Available February 14th

Just in time for Valentines Day, The Indelibles bring you a one-of-a-kind young adult anthology! Twenty original short stories, all from the point of view of our favorite male characters - some are old flames from our novels and some were dreamed up especially for this anthology. Let these imminently crushable, swoon-worthy guys show you what romance looks like – in his eyes. Add to Goodreads TBR

The contributors to IN HIS EYES include award winners, frequent “Top 100” placers, and hot 2011 debut authors: S.R. Wells, C.K. Bryant, Elle Strauss, Susan Kaye Quinn, Jessie Harrell, Magan Vernon, Lisa Nowak, Heather McCorkle, RaShelle Workman, Ali Cross, Karen Amanda Hooper, Cory Putman Oakes, Laura Pauling, Stacey Wallace Benefiel, Sarra Cannon, Katie Klein, Cheri Lasota

 

Transcendent: Tales of the Paranormal by Lani Woodland, Melonie Piper, Rita Webb, Wendy Swore, Melanie Marks, Heather McCubbin and Evan Joseph (YA Anthology)

Discover the secrets of a siren, fly with a hawk girl over the mountains of Montana, and flee supernatural party-crashers as the décor comes to life in this magical journey through paranormal stories. Along the way, watch for ghosts in a haunted house, or ride through the moonlight with a stranger. Save a comatose boy who has lost his soul, and don’t forget to bring your garlic and wolfsbane—you never know when the shadows will snag you. $0.99 on Amazon

Young Adult

Open Minds by Susan Kaye Quinn (Paranormal/Science Fiction) 

When everyone reads minds, a secret is a dangerous thing to keep. Sixteen-year-old Kira Moore is a zero, someone who can’t read thoughts or be read by others. Zeros are outcasts who can’t be trusted, leaving her no chance with Raf, a regular mindreader and the best friend she secretly loves. When she accidentally controls Raf’s mind and nearly kills him, Kira tries to hide her frightening new ability from her family and an increasingly suspicious Raf. But lies tangle around her, and she’s dragged deep into a hidden world of mindjackers, where having to mind control everyone she loves is just the beginning of the deadly choices before her. $2.99 on Amazon

 

Bound by C.K. Bryant (Paranormal Romance) 

When a photo shoot ends in tragedy, Kira discovers her best friend, Lydia,has been keeping a secret. Knowing the truth, and accepting it, will change Kira’s life forever and thrust her into a world of ancient curses, magical objects, and savage enemies. What happens next will challenge everything Kira knows about her world, herself and the shape-shifting warrior she’s falling in love with. No longer the timid mouse her mother accused her of being, but a woman who finds the mental and physical strength to endure and survive. $3.99 on Amazon

 

Become by Ali Cross (YA Urban Fantasy)

Sixteen-year old Desolation Black wants nothing more than to stay in Hell where it’s cold and lonely and totally predictable. Instead, she’s sent back to Earth where she Becomes the evil she despises and the good she always feared. When Desi is forced to embrace her inner demon, she assumes her Choice has been made—that she has no hope of being anything other than what her father, Lucifer, has created her to be. What she doesn’t count on, is a reason to want to change—something she’s never had before—a friend. $3.99 on Amazon

 

Exiled by RaShelle Workman (YA SF Romance) 

Worlds divided them. Chance brought them together. Only love will save them. An alien princess exiled to Earth. An arrogant boy. One week to get back to her planet or she'll die. And, her only chance for survival? She must help the boy find his soul mate. Piece of cake! $0.99 on Kindle

The Secret of Spruce Knoll by Heather McCorkle (Urban Fantasy)

Following the tragic death of her parents, Eren Donovan moves to Spruce Knoll to live with an aunt she’s never met. Little does Eren know the entire town of Spruce Knoll is filled with “channelers”—a magical group of people who immigrated to the small Colorado town when they were driven out of their own lands. Channelers are tied to the fate of the world. As the world slowly dies, so do they—and they alone have the power to stop the destruction of Earth. Soon, Eren learns she not only lives among them, but she is one. When she meets local boy Aiden, his charm convinces her that being a channeler may not be all bad though. 

Destined by Jessie Harrell (Retelling) 

When Psyche receives a prophecy gone horribly wrong, she learns that even the most beautiful girl in Greece can have a hideous future. Her fate? Fall in love with the one creature even the gods fear. As she feels herself slipping closer into the arms of the prophecy, Psyche must choose between the terrifyingly tender touch she feels almost powerless to resist and the one constant she's come to expect out of life: you cannot escape what is destined.  $0.99 on Amazon

Darkspell by Elizabeth Mueller (Paranormal Romance) 

Winter Sky believes she is everything ordinary . . . until she is kissed by Alex Stormhold. As seer of Stormhold Coven, Alex is sworn to be Winter’s protector against the darkness that hunts her.  Violently thrust into a magickal realm she always thought impossible, she stumbles upon a disturbing secret of her own. Will love prove thicker than magick? $3.99 on Amazon

Untraceable by S. R. Johannes (Thriller) 

Grace has lived in the Smokies all her life, patrolling with her forest ranger father who taught her about wildlife, tracking, and wilderness survival. When her dad goes missing on a routine patrol, Grace refuses to believe he’s dead and fights the town authorities, tribal officials, and nature to find him. One day, while out tracking clues, Grace is rescued from danger by Mo, a hot guy with an intoxicating accent and a secret. As her feelings between him and her ex-boyfriend get muddled, Grace travels deep into the wilderness to escape and find her father. Along the way, Grace learns terrible secrets that sever relationships and lives. Soon she’s enmeshed in a web of conspiracy, deception, and murder. And it’s going to take a lot more than a compass and a motorcycle (named Lucifer) for this kick-butting heroine to save everything she loves. $2.99 on Amazon

Rival Demons (Book 5 of the Peachville High Demons Series) by Sarra Cannon (Paranormal Romance) Available January 20th

After narrowly escaping death at the hands of the Order of Shadows, Harper finds herself thrust into the strange and beautiful world of the shadow demons. But crossing through the portal doesn't mean she is safe. The Order of Shadows is determined to bring her home and transfer the Prima line to the Harris family. They send their most vicious hunters after Harper. Hunters who will not stop until they have found their prey. Determined to keep her safe, Jackson takes her deep into an underground world filled with dangers of its own. Here, Harper will begin a journey that will teach her more about herself and her own path than she ever imagined possible. Add to Goodreads TBR

The Legend of Victor Standish: Under a Voodoo Moon by Roland D. Yeomans (Urban Fantasy/Romance) 

Can love kill? Yes ... if you love a ghoul who hungers for your flesh only slightly less than she does your heart.  Yet to the lonely street orphan Victor Standish, who has risked his life for a meal, to find love (even for one magical French Quarter night) is worth dying in the morning. $2.99 on Amazon 

  All profits go to the Salvation Army.

Getting Sideways (Book 2 in the Full Throttle Series) by Lisa Nowak (Contemporary) 

Getting shipped off to live with his uncle Race was the best thing that ever happened to fifteen-year-old Cody. Then a wreck at the speedway nearly ruined everything. Cody’s making every effort to get his life back on track—writing for the school paper, searching for the perfect girlfriend, and counting the days until he gets his drivers’ license—but there’s no escaping the nightmares that haunt him. A chance to build his own car seems like the perfect distraction. Until Cody realizes he’ll have to live up to Race’s legendary status. But that’s the least of his worries, considering he doesn’t have his dad’s permission. All he has to do is the impossible: keep Race from discovering his lie until he can convince his dad that racing’s safe. Yeah, sure. That’ll be easy. $3.99 on Amazon

Tangled Tides by Karen Hooper (Sea Monster Memoirs) 

Yara Jones doesn’t believe in sea monsters—until she becomes one. When a hurricane hits her island home and she wakes up with fins, Yara finds herself tangled up in an underwater world of mysterious merfolk and secretive selkies. Both sides believe Yara can save them by fulfilling a broken promise and opening the sealed gateway to their realm, but they are battling over how it should be done. The selkies want to take her life. The merfolk want something far more precious. Treygan, the stormy-eyed merman who turned Yara mer, will stop at nothing and sacrifice everything to protect his people—until he falls for Yara. The tides turn as Yara fights to save herself, hundreds of sea creatures, and the merman who has her heart. She could lose her soul in the process—or she might open the gateway to a love that’s deeper than the oceans. $4.99 on Amazon

Here by Denise Grover Swank (SF Romance)

Sixteen year old Julia Phillips buries herself in guilt after killing her best friend Monica in a car accident. Julia awoke in the hospital with a broken leg, a new talent for drawing and false memories of the accident, in which she dies and Monica lives. The doctors attribute this to her head injury, but no one can explain how a bracelet engraved with her name ended up at the scene of the accident. A bracelet no one has ever seen before. Classmate Evan Whittaker paid Julia no attention before the accident, let alone after. Now suddenly he’s volunteering to tutor her and offering to drive her home. She can't ignore that his new obsession started after his two-day disappearance last week and that he wears a pendant she’s been drawing for months. When the police show up one night looking for Evan, he begs Julia to run with him, convincing her that Monica is still alive. Julia agrees to go, never guessing where he’s really from.  $2.99 on Amazon

The Veil by  Cory Putman Oakes (Paranormal Romance)

Seventeen-year-old Addison Russell is in for a shock when she discovers that she can see the invisible world of the Annorasi.  Suddenly, nothing is as it appears to be—the house she lives in, the woman who raised her, even the most beautiful boy in town all turn out to be more than what they seem.  And when this strange new world forces Addy to answer for a crime that was committed long ago, by parents she has never known, she has no choice but to trust Luc, the mysterious Annorasi who has been sent to protect her.  Or so he says . . .$7.99 on Amazon

Embrace by Cherie Colyer (Paranormal Romance)

Madison is familiar enough with change, and she hates everything about it. Change took her long-term boyfriend away from her. It caused one of her friends to suddenly hate her. It’s responsible for the death of a local along with a host of other mysterious happenings. But when Madison meets a hot new guy, she thinks her luck is about to improve. Madison is instantly drawn to the handsome and intriguing Isaac Addington. She quickly realizes he’s a guy harboring a secret, but she’s willing to risk the unknown to be with him. $6.99 on Amazon

Onyx Talisman by Brenda Pandos (Paranormal Romance)

Unrest stirs deep in Scotts Valley. Filled with uncertainty, Julia anxiously awaits Nicholas’ return. Phil, holds the pieces of Julia’s fragile psyche together, secretly hoping Nicholas stays away forever. But Alora secretly conspires to reclaim her talisman and strip Julia of everything she holds dear. Little do they know, a war is coming and more than one vampire would like to see the Prince of Vampires overthrown. Can Julia bargain with fate? Find out how it all ends in this explosive grand finale of The Talisman Trilogy. 

How to Date an Alien by Magan Vernon (Science Fiction) 

High school senior Alex Bianchi's estranged father gets her an internship at Circe Operations Center to pad her college applications. But Circe isn't your typical military base. It's an alien-run operation center and not all of the aliens are friendly, especially the one that tries to kill Alex on her first day. When Ace, a dark-eyed Caltian, enters and saves the day, she can't help but be drawn to him. Can these star-crossed lovers survive when they're on the brink of intergalactic war? $2.99 on Amazon

 

Fireseed One by  Catherine Stine (Science Fiction/Thriller) 

Fireseed One is a journey into a tricked-out near-future earth where 18 year-old Varik has inherited a vast ocean farm, following the suspicious drowning of his Marine biologist father. When Marisa, a beautiful and devious terrorist, destroys the world's food source, Varik is forced to travel to a lethal hotzone, teeming with dangerous nomads and a strange cult to search for a magical hybrid plant that may not even exist. The catch? He must take Marisa along, the only person who seems to know way, way too much key information.  $2.99 on Amazon

 

The Missing by M.A. Leslie (Paranormal)

Eight-year-old, Ethan Doyle is just a normal kid whose biggest problem in life was to fight for the attention of his busy parents from his older twin siblings. But, after his aunt and uncle tragically die, his family takes in his teenage cousin, Kelsey, and moves to a spooky old, manor house in a new town. At first, everything seems fine, but when he begins to see and speak to a spirit named Lucas, his biggest problem becomes, just staying alive. Lucas was ten years old when the spirits of the house came to him and asked him for help setting their spirits free. Unfortunately, he never made the deadline and as a result the spirits took him and made him a part of the house as well. As he soon finds out, the only way he can save his own soul is to save the souls of the missing boys in the house. With his own deadline in place, Ethan enlists the help of his cousin Kelsey to solve the twenty-year-old mystery of THE MISSING. $0.99 on Amazon

 

Princess Kandake by Stephanie Jefferson (Fantasy) Available February 1, 2012

In Nubia a woman can be whatever she chooses. At 14, Kandake knows exactly what she chooses...Prime Warrior of Nubia. But her grandmother has said that she will follow her father on the throne. Refusing to abandon her warrior dreams she continues to train. When her brother is kidnapped, Kandake learns she must be both queen and warrior to win his release! See Author's Website 

Middle Grade

Blink of a Dragon by Eisley Jacobs (Fantasy)

Discovering she’s connected to dragons is one thing, but when another dragon is caught hanging out in the fifth grade, Meia thinks things couldn’t get any worse. Is she ever wrong! Trouble is brewing in the cosmos and Deglan believes this new dragon holds the answers, but his hopes are crushed when the leader of the exiled dark dragons ambushes them. The fate of the dragons and possibly the whole world falls to Deglan and Meia as they search for the only creature powerful enough to send the dark dragons back into the abyss. What they encounter along the way makes the adventure worth fighting for. $6.99 Paperback preorder