First day of Autumn

Okay, so it's not really, but as I sit here next to my open window it sure feels like it.... I can actually smell Hallowe'en in the air. So in honour of that I decided to post one of my poems. I wrote this back in 1998 when my granddad passed away. Enjoy!


First Day of Autumn

It's the first day of Autumn
Another season of death.
The air is fresh and crisp and smells divine.
Yet, it carries on its very back, the end of life.
The grey season closes in with every movement of the poplar trees in the yard.
If through some miracle they survive yet another harsh winter,
They shall revive and smile once again upon the children as they played at the bases.
But for now, they seem to be crying out in pain.
The wind contorts and thrashes them about.
Even the sky seems to feel the melancholy of the time.
Grayish green, it races overhead, as we gather.
A gaping hole stands before us, as though the earth starves and cries out to be fed.
Slowly into this artificial mouth we lower one of our own.
Followed with a drink of tears, to wash away the pain.
It's the first day of Autumn.
Another season of death.

My confused rant

What to do. What to do? What to do!

So, it has recently penetrated my ever so stubborn brain, that I might be writing in the wrong genre. Now, I am not saying that I would ever leave the romance or erotic-romance genre... I love it there. BUT... it appears the taste buds of the world are ravenous for well written m/m romances (erotic or otherwise). Up to now all my babies have been very hetero, of course 'Boundaries' has the added element of interracial threesome... but still hetero. The newest one, 'Cuban Matings' which is slotted to be released on October 1st has a delightfully flamboyant gay man in it and he does get his moment (or two) in the spot light. Many thanks to my friend DJ Manley for the boost in confidence with my first m/m love scene. But the main character is Max's bestest best, Anna.... very straight! Should I have put these two in the same story? Will readers accept m/m and m/f on the same pages? Does anyone really care?

Write what you know! I have... I do! I will... as I have lived in many a haunted house and have been surrounded with superstitions, apparitions and a love for anything vampirish my whole life, my newest WIP is a sexy vampire tale. You guessed it.... hetero!

Write what sells! What sells right now it seems is m/m. Can I simply switch? Could I do it justice? Yes I have gay and lesbian friends on the Internet and in my everyday 'real' life and see their love lives in the same context as any one else's... beautiful roller coasters of emotion. But, do I jump on the band wagon and write a tale of two men? Could I bring the same sensuality to that relationship that I strive to give to all my man and woman couples? Do I make this leap of faith under my own name and hope that any who have actually read my work (are there really any out there?) will follow and accept this change up?

I am so confused. I write because I absolutely love the idea that my words, which begin as floating little tickles in my brain, can go out into the world and entertain someone, make them smile, laugh or cry. But.... making a little bit of money from my beloved craft would be nice too. M/M is selling like hotcakes right now! Do I try for my slice of that pie or do I quietly continue icing my hetero cake and wait for those faithful few to come and sneak the crumbs?

A well written story is a well written story... does it really matter the gender of the lovers? Apparently it does. Oh, what to do! I'll try to let you know how this works out.

Bar-b-qued Coffee

Okay, so Sunday morning I popped out of bed at a little before 7 and looked outside with amazement. Everything within sight was blanketed in ghostly white mist. We could see the actual movement of the air as the fog billowed and rolled down the street. Add to this the fact that at sometime through the night our township's hydro went down. So we had a very foggy blackout. Really rather eerie when you think about it.

But was that where my mind went? Heck no! It immediately flew to the fact that without hydro, how on earth was I going to make coffee... and how would we stay cool in the 32 degree Celsius (43 with the humidex) day ahead of us?

Well, first things first. I plopped the kettle onto the bar-b-que. No, not on the grill... ours has a very convenient burner off to the side. It blackened the outside of the kettle, but the water boiled perfectly and we had our coffee! YAY!!!

An hour later our eldest showed up with her hubby and son. On went the kettle again and we enjoyed our coffee while watching the fog continue it's speedy retreat. Thoughts of how to survive the heat and humidity flitted through our minds until Charity came up with the perfect solution.

We packed a cooler full of cold drinks, sandwiches, fruits, and other assorted yummies and headed to Port Burwell. Lake Erie welcomed us with amazing white crested waves, scorching sand and an endless blue sky. Clearly many others had the same idea as us, but we were able to find a relatively quiet spot for our blankets and settled in for the day.

(Now, when Charity tells this next part of the story she makes it sound much worse than it actually was. I stand firmly on my standpoint that I did not in fact sit there and let her nearly drown.) We had two blow up pool chairs that have holes at the foot area. We had spent ages towing them out as far as we dared and letting the waves push, drag and roll us back to the shore. We had done this so many times positioned head to toe, with our arms linked through the foot holes that our arms were exhausted. I had the brilliant idea that if we overlapped the foot holes we could both stick our feet through and would be lock together and save out arms. It worked perfectly... until one enormous wave crashed over us and sent Charity tumbling into the drink. Keep in mind that her feet were tucked into the hole locking us together. when she flew off the chair, one foot slipped out but the other stayed firmly in place with the plastic wrapped tightly around her ankle and mine. From my position on my chair I tugged, twisted and struggled with the clinging plastic as wave after wave rocked us. Charity bobbed up and down, beside and beneath the flailing chair. I knew if I let myself tumble in with her, we would both be stuck.

Charity's yelling went like this..."Mom...blub blub blub. I'm stuck... blub blub blub. Help... blub blub blub. I can't get out... blub blub blub."

My yelling... "I know, I'm trying. Stay still. I don't know what to do!" Of course the whole time I was laughing hysterically, because a) I was panicking and b) it was funny. Eventually we both calmed down enough that I was able to pull my foot out which released hers and she was able to stand and look at me with and expression of absolute disbelief. "I don't know what to do? This is what you say when your child is drowning?"

"Sorry honey. I really am sorry. I am so sorry." Of course I was still laughing so hard all she could think to do was tip me off my chair.

Maybe I really do deserve that certificate she gave me for mother's day when she was six. It claims that I am indeed the worst mommy in the world. But... she still loves me.

My Author Page is up and running

My books are now available on the Kindle format. On Amazon I have an Author Page. Check it out... http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B002DEZHKY

Now, Anyone who knows me, knows that I am not very computer savvy, so this took some doing LOL But i think it'll be worth it. Not all of my titles are up on the page yet, but I promise that I did indeed dot all the 'i's' and cross all the 't's'. It just takes a while for them to appear.

Now I must get back to writing... I have a deliciously tall, dark vampire whispering seductively in my ear.

Have a beautiful day everyone!

I'm going to miss him

Okay as an author I have had the pleasure of getting to know many different characters. With each book I write I can almost feel them breathing down my neck to hurry up and get their story out into the world. Yes, a lot of people think I am slightly nuts! But it really is the truth, these characters come to life... they have their very own personality traits, their owns quirks, their own demands. It sometimes gets very crowded in here with all of them jockeying for place and the real world desperately trying to get my attention.

But, I am here to admit that I have had a first. I just handed in my newest story to eXtasy Books and I was a little sad to see it go. 'Max Was Right' is a story about two best friends, Max and Anna. Anna is really the main character as we follow the two on their trip to Cuba, but Max... Oh Max... I think I love him. He is by far the most flamboyant gay man imaginable, he is funny but at the same time so caring for his bestest best, Anna. They met when he got a job at the diaper and feminine hygiene factory where Anna worked... Now picture that! What a hoot! Him with his mascaraed lashes and purple ruffled shirt working at the tampon machine!

I think I want a friend like Max. A friend who would stand by me no matter what life throws at me. A friend who won't judge me no matter how crazy I might appear to the rest of the world. A friend who will stand up for me against all odds. And if he is flamboyant and slightly embarrassingly open about his sexuality.... all the better. Everyone should have a Max.

I'm going to miss him whispering in my ear... "Things could always be worse. Look at me, you could be a queer so excited he could pee his pants just to be working in a tampon factory.”

Yep... I'm definately going to miss him!

Have you been told today?

By a dog?

So far today, I have been safe, but yesterday… oh my! Can dogs get PMS? Can they be affected by the weather or the moon or the pattern of the planets, or whatever? Because my little girl had one heck of an attitude yesterday, let me tell you!

Now, you have to understand that she is a rather spoiled pooch. And normally we give in to her every whim… but… we have been working on the normal tricks – sit – stay – heel – shake a paw… Yesterday she did extremely well with shake-a-paw for everyone… until it was my turn to dish out the beloved treat. I did it all, instructed her to sit (plop down goes the bum), showed her the treat (slurp here comes the drool), leaned forward, held out my hand and said “Shake a paw Tipsy”… wait for it… she would thrust her paw out to me any second … here it comes… still waiting. She rolled her eyes at me. She literally rolled her eyes at me! I didn’t know a dog could do that. Next attempt, she looked over to ‘Daddy’ as if to say “Is she serious?” Third attempt, she looked longingly at the treat, licked the drool from her chin, looked me in the eye, huffed to show me just how fed up she was and shoved her paw straight out at me. If she could have said “If you want it that bad here it is” I am sure she would have screamed it. Then after all of that, she didn’t even eat the damn treat. She sat with it in her mouth looking at me from the other side of the room for ages, before finally sauntering into the bedroom to either eat or hide it. I’m assuming she ate it, as there was no soggy treat waiting for me on my pillow.

When bedtime rolled around, she still had the attitude. Now, normally all it takes is to point and snap your fingers and she curls up in her allotted spot at the end of the bed between our feet. Last night, after the required amount of cuddles I pointed and snapped. Tipsy stood up, looked at me, looked to where I was pointing, walked down the bed and flopped right where my feet should be if I weren’t curled up. When I informed her that she had to move over she again rolled her eyes at me, turned her face away and closed her eyes. She actually pretended to be asleep!

I have raised three human girls, I know the signs… Tipsy is going through puberty! God help me!

How was your day?

The Hardest Day of My Life

Yesterday was the hardest day of my life and boy do I need to vent.

My oldest friend Janet passed away last Friday and yesterday was her funeral. I somehow found the courage and the strength to stand at the podium and say a few very shaky words in her honour. She was by far the most loving, caring, giving person I have ever known and I feel very priviledged to have had her in my life.

Why did she have to leave us so soon? She was only 48 years old damn it! She will never see either of her children get married. She will never know the joy of holding her grandchildren in her arms. She was quiet and timid and went out of her way make sure every one around her was happy... so why?

Because she believed that marriage is for life... until death do you part. Even if the man you are married to is cruel to you. Even if he never has a kind word or gentle look to send your way, you stand by him and bury your pain as deep as it will go and face the world. Did he physically abuse her? I don't know... not that I ever saw or that she told me. Did he verbally and emotionally abuse her? Oh my God yes!!!! Did he cheat on her? Yes! Did I try to convince her that she was too good for the likes of him? Yes! But, she couldn't leave. He made good money and therefore the children would always have anything they could need and her children were by far the most important thing to her. so how did she handle this?

She drank. Plain and simple... she drank. Her words... "If I am drunk, he's really not so bad." "When I drink the pain doesn't hurt so bad." so ... she drank to the point that everything shut down. Her liver, kidneys, heart, lungs... everything. It was too late by the time her daughter called for help, but even then Janet said not to worry, she would be fine. A few short hours later, after ambulances and Life Support she was gone.

So, yesterday I had to stand up in front of her husband, the man whom I blame, and say good bye to the dearest friend I have ever known. Did I hug him and say how sorry I was for his loss? No way! Did I even say one word to him... no. I wrapped my arms and my heart around her parents, her siblings and her children and cried with them. After all... why would I give a damn about the man who didn't even want to spend any of his fortune on a funeral for the woman who gave him her life for 23 long years?

I will hold on to the good memories. I will see her smile when I close my eyes. I will laugh with my girls over the crazy antics of Aunt Jan. And, I will always miss her until it's my time to see her again.

What is wrong with these people?

We live in a rather small community and one would have thought that we'd be sheltered slightly from the insanity of the bigger cities...NOT! We have it all, drunks, druggies, vandals and now murder and downright stupid.

I am about 15 minutes south of Woodstock. I am sure most, if not all of you have heard of Victoria "Tori" Stafford by now. The sweet little 8 year old who was abducted on her way home from school on April 8th. This case basically took over my life for the six weeks we all hoped and prayed to bring her home alive and well. A week ago, it was made clear that that will not happen. Two people have been arrested for her murder. The female baby-killer supposedly tried to help the police locate her body but just couldn't quite remember were it was. The man (and I use that term loosely) is crying buckets in his jail cell claiming he had nothing to do with it.

I am so angry! There was no Amber Alert put out for this little angel for more than a week. What does it take for a missing child to be put on that alert. The police had video of her abductor walking with her from the get-go. The parents gave them every piece of information possible and still they waited. Idiots!

****

Then on Sunday a bright orange rescue helicopter flew over our house. It was so low the sound of it shook the windows. I knew it was stupid, because they aren't looking anywhere near here for Tori, but my first thought was... OMG maybe they found her here! We hopped in the truck and drove the two minutes to the other side of town. No they weren't looking for her... some idiot was driving his big yellow quad, drunk out of his tree, bottle of beer in hand and 1 1/2 year old grandson between his legs. He tipped the bottle to take a slug and fell straight back off the quad onto his head, on the road. The quad kept going and the baby fell off into the grass across the road. The helicopter airlifted gramps out and baby went to get checked out in an ambulance.

So... what is wrong with these people? Don't they realize that children are innocent, trusting little souls who rely on us for their protection? Maybe I am the weird one, but I walked my girls to and from school, or made sure they were in a group until they were at least ten... I knew where they were at all times until they were inn their mid-teens... I never, ever let them get in or on a vehicle with someone who had been drinking. I protected them. Maybe too much, but that was my job!

It's a sad, sad world we live in.

Easter -- Tori

Well this was a strange and somewhat strained Easter weekend.
On the one hand I have three lovely grandchildren who all came with their parents, as well as my youngest and her beau to our house on Sunday for festivities. We ate until we felt we would burst, we hunted eggs, we played a rousing 2 hour game of giant snakes and ladders on the living room floor, we watched Jesus Christ Superstar (family tradition). The kids got along, even my girls all got along. It was all in all a nice day.

Sadly the undertone of it all was rather subdued. We all did our best to keep the spirit up for the sake of our youngsters, though.

We live about twenty minutes from Woodstock, Ontario. Tragedy struck there last Wednesday afternoon. A beautiful little eight-year-old girl named Victoria (Tori) Safford went missing after leaving school. The same school my daughter attended when we lived in Woodstock. Surveillance video from the neighbouring high school shows her walking with a woman, just after school let out. No one has seen her or heard from her since. The story is being carried in every paper, on all the news, even Canada AM is carrying it. Last night more than a thousand people joined together in a candle light vigil for her. Every is wearing purple ribbons or purple shirts (Tori’s favourite colour) Her family has posted a reward for her return. Follow this link to the facebook page about it; look at the pictures… who knows where she is by now maybe you have seen her! http://www.facebook.com/home.php?#/group.php?gid=67560362225&ref=nf

AS far as I know there still has not been an Amber Alert put out for this sweet little girl. The reason being given is that the police don’t have enough evidence of an abduction (ie/ no vehicle) DAMMIT shouldn’t an Amber Alert be put out for ANY missing child? This is an eight-year-old. Its not like she’s a teenager who didn’t feel like going home!

Bookplates

Well I finally figured out how to make my own bookplates. at first I will be honest, I wasn't sure precisely what they were, so (of course) I googled. Turns out I had been seeing them my whole life and just didn't have the correct name to attach to them. They're those nifty labels you see on the inside cover of a book where it says who the book belongs to or who donated the book or whatever.

Well, once I had this newfound knowledge I just had to put it to work. I am now pleased to say that I am heading out to buy sticker sheets for my printer and will soon have bookplates with my covers on them. Then I will sign them and be able to give them to any interested reader out there.

What a neat idea! Thanks go out to one of my readers for her request that started this all!

Have a steamy day everyone!
Jojo xoxo

Happy Ever After?

Does a love story need a Happy Ever After ending to be considered a good story?

I know that we all like those HEA endings. Who wouldn’t like the hero charging up on his valiant steed to take his beloved away to a life filled with love and contentment? Who doesn’t want to see them walking hand in hand off into the sunset?

We all like stories that are wrapped up with nice happy bows at the end and leave us feeling that all is right in the world. It gives us all hope that even in the worst circumstances there is a chance that our on stories will find a way to end happily. Doesn’t it?

But does there HAVE to be a HEA? Is a romance still a romance if it’s not for life? Is it still as moving and heart-capturing if it leaves you weeping for the characters? Most of what I write has the required HEA, but my story A Time to Dance doesn’t. Does that make it less of a romance? I say… NO. Sometimes in life in order to see and appreciate the good, the wonderful, the beautiful, we have to also witness the bad, the tragic, and the ugly.

What about Love Story? A very good movie. A wonderful book. An extremely tragic ending.

What about Romeo and Juliet? They overcame so much and thought they had the own happily-ever-after all worked out. Another tragic ending.
So, my question you is this… Does knowing that there is no Happy Ever After make you turn away from a book? Even if it could possibly be a very good read? Do you as a reader need a HEA?

The Afterlife

I am now entering my after life.
What?
Glad you asked.
I am about to find out what life is like after kids. For twenty-seven years I lived for my kids. For twenty-seven years they were my very first thought each morning - their first step, their first word, their first day of school, their first loose tooth, their first date, their first car... the list goes on seemingly forever. For twenty-seven years I have been a mum. I will still be a mum, but not in the same way. Who would have thought when I brought each little pink bundle home from the hospital that all the firsts would fly by so fast.
I was secretary and president of the PTA. I helped out with fundraising... I even ran a dance-a-thon... I trudged them to school when they weren't ready for the test, I marched them into the doctor's office when they pulled some foolish stunt and needed stitches or were so ill they just wanted to be in bed with a 'pillow boat'. I watched with amazed pride as they performed and as they graduated. I sobbed as I watch two of them stroll up the aisle on their daddy's arm. I held tight to my eldest's hand as she brought the miracle of my grandson into the world.
Now, my youngest... my last little bird is spreading her wings.
I will be left alone with my second husband for the first time in twenty-two years. Don't get me wrong, we have been alone before, but the girls were always near, even when we were up north they called every day. I still mothered them.
This is different. This is a whole new place I am walking head first into. This is the after life.
Do I even know how to have a life? My own life? What if the girls were the only thing that held hubby and I together? What if he decides he doesn't even really like me? Or vice versa? What will we talk about? What will we do? Of course, his idea of being able to walk about the house totally in the buff with not a worry of being caught is fine for him... I would never be one to reject the chance to see him in his altogether... but I am much more comfortable hiding within the baggiest clothes possible. Maybe part of my new life will be to get back into the shape I was twenty-seven years ago, so I can join him in his altogether.
I'l let you know how I survive this transition. Any and all advice gratefully accepted.

See You Next Tuesday

Okay so I am the first to admit it. I don’t always make a lot of sense. But I just can’t get past this one issue.

I can label the most interesting part of a male’s anatomy with any word possible. It’s a penis, a pole, a shaft, a schlong, a wanker, a cock, a dink, a dick, a knob. And there are many, many more. It all depends what mood I am setting in the scene that I’m writing.

I love words. I love the many different ways you can use words to bring about a plethora of different emotions. I am not a prude. I don’t shy away from using profanity in my writing, if it is called for. I calls it as I sees it, most of the time.

There is one word that I don’t say and find it extremely hard to write or even think. See You Next Tuesday has always been acronym of choice in my house. Now don’t get me wrong I can label the female sex just as fluidly as I can the male, probably more so.

There’s pussy, vulva, lower lips, cleft, box, core, love tunnel, clam, gash etc. etc. I just cannot use that one word. I even understand that it is used freely in some places of the world in very much the way I would use the word bitch, so what is it with this word.

Yes, it’s vulgar. Yes, it was grilled into me as a youth that it is one of the worst words. Yes, I grilled it into my girls that it is by far the most insulting insult possible. But, why? Why this one particular word?
Does anyone else have a problem with this word? Or, do you have a different word that gives you chills? I would love to hear from you.

Valentine's Day gift for one of YOU

Hey all! Here's hoping your Valentine's Day is filled lots of love and maybe even a few surprises.

I'm having a contest. Email me or join me at the eXtasy chatters party February 10 all day to enter. Just tell me your favourite love story. It can be a movie, a book, personally witnessed or even from your very own life.

<key chain, a pretty net sack of heart-shaped chocolate, what-when-where scratch tickets and a fun fur bag to keep it all in.

Everyone has a love story in their life that makes them simply melt, so what is yours?

Email me at extasyauthor@gmail.com to be entered. I'll do the draw on February 11th. Hope you all have a wonderful day today and every day!

Jojo xo

When life hands you lemoms...

In my life I am lucky enough to have a number of people who inspire me. One in particular is an aunt who is mine through marriage. She is our adventurer.

She has skydived, just to see how it felt.
She and her group of friends have gone to Hades to help out at hospitals and an orphanage. They even transported an entire playground over there and built it for the children.
She has swam in the ocean, even though she has a major phobia of drowning and is by no means an avid swimmer. (She wears a life jacket in the pool, for pete's sake!)

This time, she and her gang trooped on down to Honduras and zip-lined. sounds like fun, right? one tiny little problem though ... she could not get the dang thing to slow down, let alone stop. So, rather than do a full face plant into the rather massive tree at the end of the first line, she put her foot up. Result -- broken middle toe and ball of her foot as well as pulled muscles in her back and scrapes and bruises.

She never got to finish the rest of the lines or soak in the hot springs. They took her to a private hospital, where she was xrayed, cleaned, bandaged and casted. The hospital gave her their very best 1920's era crutches and some very good, if unknown, pain killers.
Back at the resort, she was moved to a main floor room and treated like royalty for the duration of her stay. She had some pretty interesting signatures on her cast, including the doctor, who she plans to stay in contact with.

Did she call home and worry her husband and kids? No! It happened on Thursday and she didn't say word one about it until she was back in Toronto on Monday. Did she complain about the safety of the zip-line company? No! She praised them for their care and speed at getting her the medical help she so desperately need -- as well as them paying for it all. Did she bitch and gripe back at the resort? No way! She laughed and joked through the last half of her vacation. She told anyone who asked, that she was having wild, crazy sex and smashed her foot off a cement wall. (Some people really do not get her sense of humour)

She and her group of friends are already planning their next adventure. Look out world -- these ladies are coming!

She is one of the best lemonade makers I have ever had the priviledge to know!

Six more weeks

Oaky it's official, Wiarton Willie saw his shadow. Therefore we can look forward to six more weeks of winter. Look forward to --- yeah right!

Don't get me wrong, I have lived here in Canada since the tender age of three, so i'm used to snowy white winters. I've trudged through the snow to go trick or treating (Canadian kids' Hallowe'en costume MUST fit over snowsuits or they are useless) I've searched for those elusive coloured eggs in a blanket of white. I understand that here in Southern Ontario from October to April it's normal to have snow. BUT that does not mean I have to like it.

So, let's go March 16th... bring on the spring - the brave bulbs bursting with renewed life - the deliriously happy children on their bikes - the flooded fields, roads and basements - the potholes ... did I say spring was better? LOL

Oh well, I guess I'll just go back to the story I'm working on - at least it's warm there.

The start of a new year ... again!

How many times has the chime of the clock at that magical hour, or the dropping of the ball at that same precise moment brought promises of bettering ourselves or the world from our lips? How many promises have you made and broken? Or, maybe you are one of the few that actually followed through with your promise. I salute you if this is the case.

My personal list of broken or forgotten New Year's resolutions over the years is longer than the road leading to my door... and that's pretty darn long. I vow to get in shape - What's so wrong with the shape of an apple anyway? I vow to lose weight - I am positive I keep finding that which everyone else has lost instead! I vow to quit smoking - well cutting down is a start anyway. I vow to do something good for the enviroment - does letting the grass grow longer to help fill the air with oxygen count? I vow to be a kinder, gentler human being - until someone messes with one of my kids, anyway. I vow to... The list goes on

So this year I have made one and only one resolution... I will do everything I can everyday to be the best me I can be! That should just about covered it all.

Have a fantastic year everyone!

Jojo xo