Are We There Yet? by Curtiss Ann Matlock

 Curtiss Ann Matlock is one of my favorite writers of all time. I read the following essay on her blog and asked her if I could borrow it for Wednesday at the Window. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. You can find Curtiss Ann here. I recommend her backlist, and am so looking forward to what she's working on now. 

When I was a child, my father was in the Coast Guard. His career required change of duty stations and gave our family the opportunity to cross the nation a number of times. This was in the late Fifties/early Sixties. Imagine two adults traveling with three children, one a toddler, driving day after day. My father behind the wheel (I rarely saw my mother drive) and my mother in the passenger seat, her dark hair in the style of Lucille Ball, with dark sunglasses on her face. We children were confined to the backseat of a 1957 Ford on the first trip. Later trips, we enjoyed the room of an enormous station wagon. I learned my mother’s phrase: “Go now, while you have the chance.” Oh, and there was, “Don’t touch that toilet seat!” and “Don’t drink the water here.” And the age-old, “We’ll see,” when we children begged to do something.

As children, our main question was, of course, “Are we there yet?” “There” being a bathroom, a restaurant, to stop for bologna sandwiches, or the motel with a swimming pool. Further into the trip, “there,” meant the final destination, and we asked it even when in the middle of nowhere, because we were tired and cranky and bored and wanted to be free from the confines of the car, the requirements of discipline within and without, the entire struggle and effort of the trip.

I’ve been asking myself “Are we there yet?” for months now with my book. I grow tired of the effort and self-discipline at pressing on.

And no, I’m still not there. But I can see the ending from here. In fact, last week I wrote the main ending. Now I am working on tying up the threads of everyone’s lives. I write happy-ending books, and I want to see everyone have their happy ending. Some people see this as fantasy, a view with which I strongly disagree, however a topic for another post.

Last night when working on a crocheted afghan and connecting new yarn, I realized that finishing a book is much the same as when I finish a crocheted project. I must weave in the loose ends of yarn to tidy up the piece. This work is by nature a bit tedious; it takes time, a good eye, patience and skill, and is the making of the piece. So, too, with writing a book.

My plan is to write ‘the end’ on the manuscript this week. I’m almost there.

~*~

Curtiss Ann Matlock is an American writer of 38 novels, among them the beloved Valentine series of books set in the fictitious town of the same name. Her books have placed on the USA TODAY best seller lists and received numerous awards, among them three nominations for the Romance Writers of America’s prestigious RITA Award. Her stories are about men and women and families struggling to live and love.

A Hero's Heart by Amber Daulton

 A Hero’s Heart 

Publisher: Daulton Publishing

Release Date: November 2nd, 2021

Genre: Romantic Suspense

Length: 38k WC/202 pages

Heat Rating: 4 flames 

Blurb

Lies. Betrayal. A blown undercover mission.

After ten years away, DEA agent Jarrett Brandt heads home to pay his respects to his deceased brother and hide out from the cartel kingpin who wants him dead. The last thing he needs is Marissa, his high school sweetheart, tempting him with her sassy smile and showing him the life he gave up. Add on his judgmental parents, and he’s ready to hit the road.

Widowed mom Marissa Reinn never had much luck with the Brandt boys. First Jarrett broke her heart, then she lost his brother—her husband—to a bullet. Vowing to uncover Jarrett’s secrets, she succumbs to the passion still burning between them instead.

When a team of assassins find him, Jarrett and Marissa will have to work together to survive and protect her son. How will they seize their second chance at love with their lives on the line?

Rekindling the flames of love has never burned so hot.

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Download Links

A Hero’s Heart is now on SALE for .99 cents. Deal lasts from May 1-31.

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About the Author

Amber Daulton is the author of the romantic-suspense series Arresting Onyx and several standalone novellas. Her books are published through Daulton Publishing, The Wild Rose Press, and Books to Go Now, and are available in ebook, print on demand, audio, and foreign language formats. 

She lives in North Carolina with her husband and demanding cats. 

Social Media Links

Universal link – https://linktr.ee/AmberDaulton 

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I Love You More by Liz Flaherty

This is from two years ago. My apologies for using it again so soon, but it sort of reflected how I feel today. It was our 49th anniversary then--next Sunday will be our 51st. We're celebrating today, early, with friends and family. Being grateful and laughing and sniping because he doesn't listen (to me) and I don't remember what he said 10 minutes ago but can quote him a remark he made 50 years ago that he shouldn't have. But I love him more now than I did 51 years ago. And more than I did yesterday. Thanks for reading again. 

To Duane Flaherty, I love you more. - L

I changed the bottle in my water cooler the other day and reflected a little grumpily that it won't be long before I'll have to start using three-gallon bottles instead of five-gallon ones because the weight and awkwardness are getting hard to handle.

I've been wearing the same necklace ever since the beginning of sheltering in place because neither Duane nor I can consistently manage to fasten or unfasten jewelry clasps.

When we watch Grace and Frankie, I nod my head the whole time--not just because it's funny but because even at its most unbelievable, it's shockingly accurate.

This morning I needed something from the shed. No, not that shed--the other one, which meant I had to look in both of them. I found the item I was looking for, used it, and went into the house to ask Duane to go out and latch the doors on the sheds because even though I got them open, I couldn't get them closed.

Walking is the only form of exercise I like, and I like to walk two miles; however, I'm tired enough after a mile and a half that I usually just do that. I might add that the mile and a half takes me as long as the two used to take. Or I might not. I might just say that I choose to take more than 20 minutes to walk a mile. What's the hurry, after all?

Our 49th anniversary was yesterday. We talked the night before about the things long-marrieds often talk about. (Actually, I did most of the talking--he nodded sometimes.) Would you do it again? Has it been worth it? What would you change? What if we'd done this instead? The truth is, any change at all--including the times of pain, sadness, and anger that create pock marks on any enduring relationship--would alter the path of our lives together. It might be straighter, but it might not be, too. It would make the climate of the marriage different and put us in a place we might like less instead of more. It's not a chance I'd be willing to take. He wouldn't, either.

All of these things are seeds planted by time. By age. Some of them were surprising--who knew I wouldn't be able to put my own necklace on? Some were expected--walking slower--but not expected already. Later, maybe, but not now.

But I've noticed...

That the water in the three-gallon bottles tastes and costs the same as the water in the five-gallon bottles.

That whatever necklace I have on has memories and love attached to it--doesn't matter what one I wear or for how long I wear it.

That the women who play Grace and Frankie make no pretense at not being the age they are, nor do the characters they play, and when I'm laughing I don't give any thought at all to how old they are.

People, even ones you aren't married to, will help you with things like door latches. Partly because they feel sorry for you because you're old, partly out of respect for said oldness, and partly because people are generally nice.

That when you walk slow, you see more wildlife and plant life. You smell the flowers. You hear the birds--although I have to admit I still don't usually know one from another.

That scar tissue, some of the fabric that holds 49-year marriages and other long friendships together, is strong stuff. Made to last if that's what both halves want to happen.

The seeds of age are hard-won and we earn them whether we want to or not. How and where we plant them and what we do with whatever grows from them...well, that's up to us.

Have a great week. Stay safe. Be nice to somebody.

I have hemo-what? by Charley Sutton

I’ve had trouble sleeping for most of my adult life. I would sleep for an hour and be awake for two. Many times the alarm went off before I ever closed my eyes. I was constantly exhausted. Once or twice a week, I would crash for eight to ten hours straight.

In the spring of 2011, I was driving down Broadway and began to see double. I pulled over into the wrong drive of the two I saw and nearly hit a pole. I began to lose my strength and sense of balance soon after.

I fell while walking, fell out of a chair trying to tie my shoes, and ended up walking with a cane to keep from falling. I went to doctors all over Indiana, and they agreed that something was wrong, but none knew what.

I struggled with it for several months until my family doctor told me he believed I had fibromyalgia. The pain, fatigue, sleeplessness, memory trouble, and weakness that I had experienced are all markers of fibromyalgia.

My doctor took me off all of my medications and started over. He focused on keeping me working, because there were no other viable options for me. He gave me a pain inhibitor, a muscle relaxer, and pain medication.

It worked. Ten years later, I’m still working. About four years ago, I was having trouble sleeping again. Pain kept me awake most of the night. I was again suffering from fatigue and memory problems. My doctor sent me to a sleep specialist.

I told the specialist about my joint and muscle pain. I told her about the fatigue and brain fog. That’s what she called the moments I can’t pull a word from my memory.

She had a thought about what might be wrong with me. She tested my ferritin level. Ferritin is a protein in your body that contains iron. If the level is too high, your body deposits iron in your body tissues causing damage. My ferritin level was 469. It should be between 50 to 250 for an adult male.

This can be a symptom of a genetic disorder called hemochromatosis. I was sent to a hematologist and he ordered a genetic test to confirm that I had hemochromatosis. It confirmed his diagnosis. This disorder, if left untreated, can cause organ damage and eventually death.

There is no cure for this disorder, but there is a treatment that nullifies it. If my ferritin level is above 50, they draw a pint of blood which removes iron and lowers my level.

The doctor had four pints of blood drawn over an eight week period when I was first diagnosed. He reduced it from 469 to 50, scheduled me to be tested every six months, and draws blood if it is over 50. If it is over 200, he has me take a blood test two weeks later. If my level is still high, he orders more blood drawn and a retest until the level is around 50. I will have to do this the rest of my life.

Hemochromatosis, since it’s symptoms are similar to other disorders, often goes undiagnosed. It actually can start causing problems for men in their mid to late twenties. We followed the doctor’s advice about having my teenage son tested, and it confirmed he had the genetic disorder as well. We will have to have his ferritin level monitored when he reaches his mid twenties.

I wonder how many of my physical issues over the years could have been prevented by a simple blood test. I am still diagnosed with Fibromyalgia, but a couple of the symptoms of it are the same as Hemochromatosis. I feel better in some ways since the doctor started monitoring my ferritin level, and I can sometimes tell when it’s high.

If you’re having a blood test done because of fatigue, pain, or trouble sleeping, have the doctor check your ferritin level. For men the effects can start in their twenties. For women it can cause problems after menstruation ends through menopause or a hysterectomy.

Sometimes ancient cures like bloodletting actually aren’t quack medicine. They may have been treating the wrong condition, but it works for me.

~*~

My name is Charles Sutton, and I am a maintenance technician from Peru, Indiana. I’ve been an avid reader for as long as I can remember. I’ve always aspired to write and have put pen to paper for almost as long. As I grow older, finding the time to write gets easier. Join me on my blog at  or find me on Facebook.

Tour Stop: Jana Richards and the Masonville Series

I'm so glad to have my friend Jana Richards here promoting her Masonville Series. There's a giveaway, too. Be sure to sign up and give her books a try. You won't be sorry!

Strong Enough

The Masonville Series Book 4

by Jana Richards

Genre: Small Town Contemporary Romance

Love can make you stronger, if you let it.

Charlotte Saunders has a full life—a rewarding career as a nurse, meaningful volunteer work at a dog shelter, and family, friends and pets she adores. But no matter how hard she tries, she can’t forget the horrible event that’s haunted her for ten years.

A survivor of childhood sexual abuse, Damon Greyson now helps others who have suffered trauma. His experience and intuition alert him to trouble in Charlotte’s past, and he wants to help her, if only she’d let him.
As they work together to help veterans suffering from PTSD and neglected dogs needing loving homes, their feelings for each other deepen. But when the trauma from Charlotte’s past roars back to life, both are forced to confront their painful histories—or die trying.

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Unexpected

The Masonville Series Book 3 

Single dad Ben Greyson wants only to retain custody of his two stepdaughters. A dysfunctional childhood has made family the most important thing in his life. When his late wife's parents sue for custody, a desperate Ben is left with two choices – run away with his girls or marry his next-door neighbor.

Jamie Garven wants to be a mother. She's intrigued by her handsome new neighbor and falls in love with his little girls. Then Ben is faced with losing his children, and Jamie agrees to marry him for a chance at motherhood. They're determined to show the world, and the girls' grandparents, two loving parents.

Their marriage of convenience turns into unexpected love. But Ben interprets Jamie's efforts to save their family as betrayal—they could lose everything, including each other. 

**On Sale at Amazon for .99cents June 3 - 17!!**

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To Heal a Heart

The Masonville Series Book 2 

Two souls in pain, two hearts in need of rescue.

Garrett Saunders' world changed two years ago on a road in Afghanistan. Back home, he feels like a stranger. As he struggles to find his place in the world, he meets a horse destined for the slaughterhouse and a woman bent on rescuing the strays of the world, including him.

Blair Greyson moves to Masonville to look after her ailing grandfather and give her rescue horses a home. Right away she butts heads with a surly former Marine. Despite a rocky start, they come to an agreement: Blair will board Garrett's rescue horse and he'll help with repairs around her farm.

Garrett finds purpose working with Blair—and falls in love with her. But she's hiding a secret. Can she forgive herself and accept Garrett's love, or will she let guilt and regret continue to rule her life?

**On Sale at Amazon for .99cents May 20 – June 3!!**

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Child of Mine

The Masonville Series Book 1

Is Lauren’s love for Cole stronger than her fear of scandal in her hometown?

Lauren didn't intend to sleep with her brother-in-law Cole on the day of her husband's funeral. But now that she is pregnant, she's not sorry. Cole's given her a baby, a long-wished-for miracle. He's been her friend forever, though she never told him or anyone else how unhappy her marriage to his cheating brother was. And she's afraid to tell the small town that considered her husband a hero that the baby isn't his.

Cole's been in love with Lauren since he was sixteen. It kills him that everyone believes the baby is his dead brother's. All he wants is to claim the baby, and Lauren, as his own. Though she marries him, will Lauren's heart ever be his?

Lauren must tell the truth or risk losing Cole. Is her newly-discovered love for him greater than her fear of scandal in her hometown?

**On Sale at Amazon for .99cents until May 20!!**

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When Jana Richards read her first romance novel, she immediately knew two things: she had to commit the stories running through her head to paper, and they had to end with a happily ever after. She also knew she’d found what she was meant to do. Since then she’s never met a romance genre she didn’t like. She writes contemporary romance, romantic suspense, and historical romance set in World War Two, in lengths ranging from short story to full length novel. Just for fun, she throws in generous helpings of humor, and the occasional dash of the paranormal. Her paranormal romantic suspense “Seeing Things” was a 2008 EPPIE finalist.

In her life away from writing, Jana is an accountant/admin assistant, a mother to two grown daughters, and a wife to her husband Warren. She enjoys golf, yoga, movies, concerts, travel and reading, not necessarily in that order. She and her husband live in Winnipeg, Canada. She loves to hear from readers and can be reached through her website at www.janarichards.com

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Making Memories by Liz Flaherty

I cut up oranges for the orioles and put out sugar water for hummingbirds. I have thistle seed hanging for finches--although I don't have any finches; do you? We buy suet cakes by the boxful and put them out most of the year. Because I've aged into watching birds, I don't mind this, but I'm looking out at the side yard right now and although the grass was recently cut and looks velvety beautiful, there are a million dandelion stems sticking up out of it. 

So, my question is, why don't birds like dandelion stems? It would be so handy if they did, not to mention cheap. Of course, if they liked them, there would end up being a politically motivated shortage of them and they'd no longer be either handy or cheap. 

A week ago Friday, our granddaughter, who lives in Texas, and her boyfriend, who lives in Kentucky, stopped in Peru on their way to Chicago to a wedding. We spent two hours with them eating B & K hot dogs and filling our grandparent hearts with love and laughter and hugs that filled all the right spaces. 

Today's Second Saturday and the Visual Arts Festival downtown Peru. The schedule's below and there are events all day long, including both visual arts and music. Artists in every medium appreciate your support. 

It's been a nice kind of week, hasn't it? The sun has shone and it hasn't rained for several days. The breeze has been just that--a breeze, as opposed to gale-force winds. According to my phone, all that stands to change today, but I'm thankful for the days past. Of course, I was complaining about the heat the minute the temperature climbed relentlessly into the 80s. No one listened when I complained, but I didn't let a little thing like that stop me.

This is also garage sale weekend, especially including the community one at the fairgrounds. 

If you've been through Denver, you know State Road 16 is...interesting...right now. But the baseball park is more so. I love going through there--very slowly!--because it's fun to see the boys of girls of summer out there. The parking lot is filled and then some every game night, and DeAngelo's is brightly lit and busy. In days when I so often feel as if absolutely nothing is the way it used to be (or as good as it used to be) seeing that crowded, happy place most definitely is. 

While I think all the years of your life are the best ones, none of them are any better than the ones you spend sitting on bleachers. Whether you're watching sports, listening to music, or cheering on a quiz bowl, those hours become beloved memories.

I'm rambling today. Sometimes thoughts come together and sometimes they don't. The "don't" happens to all writers, I'm sure, but the smarter ones probably keep it to themselves. Yeah, well... 

Tomorrow, we're going to sit on some lawn chairs and watch a grandboy play soccer. It'll be like bleachers days, making memories. I hope you have a good week. Be nice to somebody. - Liz 

 

Livin' La Vida Loca by Bruce Clark

I’ve pretty much lived my entire life like that, the crazy life — with some weaves and wobbles, of course. I’ve been accused of being both too brash and too naïve and with honest hindsight, I can’t disagree. Yet I wouldn’t have had it any other way. I’ve gone forward with the knowledge I have and a willingness to discover; that includes lots of willingness to be wrong.

It’s not what someone would normally consider crazy living. They might consider it witchcraft though. I call it living by positive postulate, and it is kinda-sorta magic. Here’s how it works: you decide that something is, or is to be…, and it IS! Idiotically simple! But when I say, “decide” I don’t mean having some dim thought inside your head; I mean putting your idea out there in the physical universe, for real!

In truth, people (that includes you) do this all the time but usually don’t realize they’re doing it. Don’t believe me? Sometime, just for fun, decide something and include the thought, “Well, why not; what’s the worst that can happen?” Yeah, uh-huh, you’ll find out. That’s how it works.

It’s taken a lot of bravery and time to sort it. I mean, if you have to ask yourself how much control you have over your thoughts…, see what I mean? Fortunately, the process seems to be morally rigged. If you were to wish someone would drop dead, for instance (not that you would ever do that) the postulate automatically gets slotted as a dim thought inside of your head, and that person goes right along living just fine, like it or not.

I first realized I had this ability in 1972. I was living in downtown Toronto above a Chinese grocery and one afternoon when I was alone in the apartment I busied myself by rolling together pieces of Scotch Tape in order to put up some really cool WWII photos that one of my roommates had. Frustrated, I finally let out a deep sigh and thought, “There has to be a better way to do this!

“Thud!” It came from inside the apartment and I thought I was alone. “Is somebody here?” I called out. Silence. So I began searching around the small apartment to see where the noise had come from. One step into the bathroom I looked down to see a large roll of tape on the floor. It hadn’t been there before. When I picked it up I quickly realized that it was a roll of double-faced tape. “Hello!” I called out again. “Is anyone here?” Silence. Weird silence. I looked up to see where it had possibly come from and saw that there was a narrow shelf just above the entry door that had lots of stuff on it. I’d never even noticed the shelf before.

So I went about hanging up the rest of the photos on the wall, much easier with double-faced tape. When one of my roomies came home a while later I told her my fantastic experience, to which she said, “Oh, can you find us a little table to set in the kitchen corner?” Well, that was a reply I didn’t expect.

“Sure,” I said, possibly feeling a bit cocky.

The kitchen was in the back of the apartment and had a back entrance that nobody ever used. So I decided to use it. Once outside and down the rickety old wooden stairs, a fire escape actually, I saw where the Chinese grocery had left their throw-away things, including several clay pots of dead flowers and a small three-legged corner table. I kid you not.

That was more decades ago than I care to admit. But I can admit that I did not go through all of my life with instant magic (THANK GOODNESS!) I’ve had to work and work hard just like anybody else.

Currently I live in comfortable retirement; a loving wife, a wonderful home that is a restored hundred-and-twenty year-old brick Grange Hall with all the modern conveniences, no debt, lots of good friends all over the world and in our small local community located in the central desert plateau of Washington state. Not some castle in the sky or a million dollar rooftop condo atop a towering skyscraper, but living just like I want it to be. I decided what it was to be. And it is. Crazy, huh!

~*~

Bruce at the Willow Tea Room in Glasgow, Scotland

Bruce Clark was born and raised in rural north-central Indiana towns.

An insatiable autodidact polymath, he has traveled extensively and lived in several US states as well as Canada and Denmark. He is currently retired and happily married to his third wife, Catherine; no living children of his own. They live in a 120+ year-old brick store building in the desert plateau town of Waterville, in central Washington state.