Monday, November 28, 2016

Tuesday Tales and No One is an Island


Ahoy Fellow Fathomers! It's time for Tuesday Tales.



A group of writers gather together and give our interpretation of a specific word prompt each week. Once per month, we even write to an image.  You never know what you might encounter when you get inside our minds. This week our group writes to the word- island.  This will be an excerpt from my new WIP for a new romance contemporary, No Games, Just Love.

Enjoy!~






Lola’s first annual Texi-Tropical Mixer appeared successful. No matter how many times the luau theme showcased a party or event, the timeless fun and classic setting promised fun times. We rented a small portion of a lake swim beach for a sandy spot. Volleyball games played out in one corner, limbo took an area, and other assorted games and get-to-know-you exercises kept folks chatting and laughing. Some wore island inspired clothing, tiki masks, hula attire, you name it.
We knew an informal gathering could infringe upon Lola’s strict rule of assignments to specific leagues, however, we also wanted the great publicity such an affair would create. “Sometimes you have to break a few of your own rules.” Lola shrugged the possibility of failure away. I took a personal turn on breaking a few rules to step away from my rigid shell of comfort. Lesley inspired me, I couldn’t think of any better reason.
We planned to spend a few hours in the sun, then, switch to a dance by evening. A long day for sure, but, we already had several new recruits interested in upcoming dating leagues. I took advantage of a small meeting cabin on the property to set up my laptop. I could keep track of prospects, while still available to supervise with Lola. She also hired some muscle by the hour to dissuade any potential roughhousing nonsense. Lesley went about serving drinks and checking on guests. I finally spied Lola taking a pause from the action.
Lola didn’t have a date, customary for business gatherings. Remaining under a shade tree on a lounge chair, she watched everyone, probably mentally taking notes. She had a knack for recalling minute details, making people feel welcomed and important. I admired her for how well she read a customer. Yet, all those skills didn’t make her any more suited for a one on one relationship than the next human fumbling around wearing the blinders of romance. Somber, her demeanor fell flat, almost sad at times. When she was alone, I approached, determined to bring a smile.
“Hey, boss lady, what do you think of your party?”
“Boss lady? Where did that come from?”
“I do work for you.”






Please visit us at our main site for more interpretations of island  Tuesday Tales Main Page

Monday, November 14, 2016

Tuesday Tales- Around the Town


Ahoy Fellow Fathomers! It's time for Tuesday Tales.



A group of writers gather together and give our interpretation of a specific word prompt each week. Once per month, we even write to an image.  You never know what you might encounter when you get inside our minds. This week our group writes to the word- town.  This will be an excerpt from my new WIP for a new romance contemporary, No Games, Just Love.

Enjoy!~






“You truly inherited my way of taking care of business.”

Heavy weights once again left my shoulders. Truth telling was indeed cathartic. “So, when he found out, we had a severe falling out. Over time, he contacted me again and we eventually met for drinks. I was following him to his house when I wrecked. I believe it was a sign.”

“A sign you weren’t supposed to be at his house?”

“Yes, he lives out of town, moved partially to get away from me. I think the universe wants us to stay apart.”

“What about true character is revealed in adversity? Maybe you two were meant to endure struggle to make your relationship solid?”

Mamma had an irritating way of confusing me. Should I dare tell her how my life felt complete only when Marty came back into it? “You’re messing up my way of thinking.”

“It’s who I am.” Mamma believed in happy endings, knowing a person didn’t get there by taking the easy road. “If I could do anything different, I would’ve found a way to keep you dad in our lives. We should’ve moved away with him.”

Here we go, talking about my father the roadie again. Good thing the nurse interrupted us.

“Good news, Ms. Fontaine, I have your release papers ready.”

“Splendid!” Mamma clapped her hands. “Just in time for tea.”

We made it to her house by a quiet, peaceful drive. Mamma followed through on her promise, gathering a tea pot, little fancy porcelain cups, and pulled thinly sliced bread from the cabinet. “I’ll make us cucumber sandwiches with the crusts cut off. What do you think? I also have some scones in the freezer, they’ll thaw in a jif.”

“Sounds good, Mamma, I’ll take a hot shower.”

“Remember, the doctor said you’re anemic, you need to eat more.”

“Random carbs probably won’t cure low iron levels in my blood.”

“It’s a start. I’ll pop over to the store for some vitamins.”

“Grab some beef jerky too, that’ll be good.” Halfway joking, I actually craved beef jerky for some odd reason. I’m not sure where that came from.

“Jerky? You’re right, that sounds delicious. We can make some.”

Mamma the crafting cooking queen. “Have you ever made jerky?”

“I burned a roast a time or two, does that count?”








Please visit us at our main site for more interpretations of town  Tuesday Tales Main Page

Monday, November 7, 2016

Tuesday Tales and It's All About the Band


Ahoy Fellow Fathomers! It's time for Tuesday Tales.



A group of writers gather together and give our interpretation of a specific word prompt each week. Once per month, we even write to an image.  You never know what you might encounter when you get inside our minds. This week our group writes to the word- ghost.  This will be an excerpt from my new WIP for a new romance contemporary, No Games, Just Love.

Enjoy!~






I suppose I never hated Lola, I hated her actions.
Hate- such a violent word, final, definitive- offering no hope, probably more depressing than any other emotional concept. Hate meant your heart down to your toes had room for nothing else, and it consumed a person. If I had no hate, then, my heart never stopped loving Lola, my soul was only hibernating away from the agony. Healing removed the reasons I shouldn’t love Lola, and I didn’t know what to do about it.
Impulsively, I ran in Forrest Gump splendor, skirting past dancing couples, bumping into folks left and right. “Pardon me…excuse me…sorry I need by.” My mouth repeated the mantra excusing rudeness, while zinging like a pinball through the human congestion. The band slowed the tunes to something sensual, encouraging closeness. Luckily, I hit the foyer before knocking any tightly bound couples over.
But, luck didn’t prevent my haste from knocking Lola on her sexy ass. Hrmph! Hitting her full speed, she saw me a split second before I made contact. “Marty!”
Solidly, she tipped over onto the floor in full upright position- a Coke bottle beauty hit like a wide receiver.  The side of her head made direct contact with the slick finish of the hardwood flooring.
She wasn’t the only one who saw stars from our collision. Sweet mother, I wanted to slam her in a different way.
“Fuck, Marty, is there a fire or something?”
Fire? What a good way to describe my testosterone enhanced genitals.
“I’m very sorry.”
Rubbing the side of her face, shakily sitting up, Lola caressed her jaw. “That’s twice I’ve hit the floor in the past month, and I’m fucking sober! Sober both times!”
“I didn’t know you’d still be here.  I wasn’t trying to hurt you.” Shit, that came out wrong.
“Did you know I’ve already chipped a tooth? I’ve got a dentist appointment this week…that is if my jaw isn’t too swollen I have to put it off.”
“Let me take a look.” Squatting down, I inspected her smooth skin, looking for bruises or abrasions. Angry red splotches promised necessary healing time. Gently, I touched her face, skimming her cheek with my fingertips. Familiar territory, even more familiar feels, momentarily quieted the turmoil inside my chest.
“So, a bar brawl in a jazz club. How believable will the story float?”
“Would you even tell that story? Isn’t that like getting beat up for your milk money or stuffed in a locker?” Joking with me was how we got started in the first place. I reveled in the destiny.
“I’ll tell everyone, you should see the trumpet player.” Diverting her eyes, possibly hiding tears, caused another round of ache in my guts. The whisper carried slightly over the din of the crowd in the main room. “Why did you chase after me?”
“I’m not…I’m…dammit, I don’t know.” Honesty, brutal truths can make for obstinate conversation starters. “Somewhere inside me couldn’t take you leaving. I saw you walk away and got desperate.”





Please visit us at our main site for more interpretations of band  Tuesday Tales Main Page

Monday, October 24, 2016

Tuesday Tales and Ghost of a Chance

Ahoy Fellow Fathomers! It's time for Tuesday Tales.



A group of writers gather together and give our interpretation of a specific word prompt each week. Once per month, we even write to an image.  You never know what you might encounter when you get inside our minds. This week our group writes to the word- ghost.  This will be an excerpt from my new WIP for a new romance contemporary, Steal My Heart.

Enjoy!~








“Hey, boss lady, what do you think of your party?”


“Boss lady? Where did that come from?”


“I do work for you.”


“Yes, you’ve even been in charge more than me lately. I meant your speech, you sound more like Eugene-y from the block than Eugene from behind the computer.”


“I learned I don’t always have to be stuffy to get my point across.”


“I think you’re sweet on Lesley and it’s loosened your defense mechanisms.”


Playing reverse psychiatrist was not what I had in mind. “I walked over here to check on you.”


Lola drew her knees close to her chest. “I don’t want to adult anymore, I want to, maybe…well, hell, I don’t want to go back to teenage years. I guess I’m damn stuck fast. I’m sick of worrying about stuff.”


“Unfortunately, with power comes great responsibility. These folks count on you to have your shit together.”


“Did you say shit, for real?”


“I did. I admit, I said the word shit in a sentence. I’m clearly losing my intellect.”


“No, no, not at all, you’re fine. Some of the world’s greatest minds cuss like a sailor.”


“Seriously, what’s going on?” She wasn’t going to weasel away from my questions this time.


“In a nutshell, I think my dad’s a fugitive, the man I love won’t return my calls, the man I sometimes date has a girlfriend, and my best friend, Danika, won’t visit me.”


“Is it because they have some of their own stuff possibly giving them a hard time?” I wasn’t sure Lola would ever stop taking the blame for everything and everyone in her life.


“I think it’s me.”


“You’re a handful, but, you’ve become empathetic lately, it’s endearing. Give your friends a chance, they’ll come around. It’s not always about you, and I say that right now with good intentions.”


“This girl really is good for you, I’ve never seen you so caring or happy. Maybe some of the ghosts of the past are gone for good?”


“I hope so, I’m ready to move forward, away from the negativity. Thankfully, the emails stopped. Someone was playing an asshole prank, I’m sure of it.”


Lola stood. “C’mon, let’s mingle, get to know our future clients.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Investing in the business was personal for me now. I’d found a job I care about, working with a boss who was family to me now. Our clients touched me in a different way. Their lives mattered to me, happy outcomes waited for the lucky. I helped with the formulas, the lists of best possible matches. No other dating site or club had anything on us. Arms linked, we walked back to the main party area






Please visit us at our main site for more interpretations of ghost  Tuesday Tales Main Page
















Wednesday, October 19, 2016

My Medicated Mid-Life Week 6 on Humira


My Medicated Mid-Life

Humira- Injection #3


Today, I spent 30 minutes on the treadmill. I even jogged some during my more motivating songs. I logged approximately 2 miles.

My right shin hurt on occasion during some foot strikes on the faster paces. Not enough to make me stop though.

I also had to stretch my arms behind my back and retract my shoulder blades when it felt like my upper body was “balling up”.

But, it’s been probably a year since I’ve been on the treadmill, and certainly at least a year since I jogged. I felt liberated from the bonds my disease had placed upon my body.

Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t one hundred percent, but, I’m learning to live with small goals and accomplishments. The Humira isn’t a miracle drug. I took the injection on Friday evening. Saturday, I woke with a slightly sore throat and fatigue. Sunday, I woke up around 3am with body aches. I took Etodolac,
an NSAID drug, and went back to sleep. I had a full day on Sunday at one of my favorite bookstores. Sunday night, I needed more Etodolac, but, I managed to get up at 5am Monday for work and didn’t feel the usual pains rocketing through my joints.

Getting up at 5am was a huge accomplishment. My fatigue seems lessened, my body rebelling less from the alarm clock.  I remain cautiously optimistic. I’m going on week 6 of Humira treatments.

I’ll keep you posted.

Namaste

“Our bodies remind us it’s essential to keep moving.

And, yes, it does matter.” -Davee Jones

Monday, October 17, 2016

Tuesday Tales...What Makes Us an Us?






Ahoy Fellow Fathomers! It's time for Tuesday Tales.
A group of writers gather together and give our interpretation of a specific word prompt each week. Once per month, we even write to an image. This week, we write to an image.  This will be an excerpt from my new WIP for a new romance contemporary.

Enjoy







Could we pick things back up?  I wanted clear air, forgiveness established, you know?”
“Of course, silly me, skipping ahead a few chapters, assuming too much. It’s not a party till Lola puts her foot in her mouth.” Shooting out in rapid fire succession, I couldn’t stop talking. Glumly, I realized, you really can’t put the toothpaste back into the tube. 
“You’ve always worked best without a filter. I knew where I stood.” Marty smiled, patting my knee.
His hands. Oh, his hands, working down the buttons on my blouse- slowly unlooping each catch of the button in the hole. Memories filled my fingertips with the desire to touch his bare chest. Move your hands up my knee, across my thigh, up my tummy, I wanted him more than a tonic laced with gin. Common sense kicked in, returning my voice. “I really need to get going.”
Maybe he could sit with me right here and now, pretending our benefits never existed in friendship- I couldn’t. I loved this man, loved him hard. So hard I put him on the unattainable pedestal, a cherished, valuable diamond in the rough. Willing to look, not touching, for the sake of preserving his value. Keeping us frozen in time, our feelings sharp as ever, never fading. He could stay on my mantel, loving me the same, as I knew I would always love him.
“Lola? You’re a thousand miles away.”
Oh, shit, he saw me processing my good-bye. Think fast, lighten the mood. “Happy thoughts, reminiscing, you know?”
“Aside from everything, many of my favorite memories include you.”
“We’ll always have gelato.”
“Grilled lemonade…”
“Pho…”


“Food became the center of our lives, did we ever think about anything else?” Visits to our favorite café became more than routine, it made us an us.

Please visit us at our main site for more picture prompt interpretations Tuesday Tales Main Page



Friday, October 14, 2016

Meet Kerrianne Coombes! Author of The Demon Tales....Slip Into Another World


This weekend's guest blogger is Kerrianne Coombes!

Are you intrigued by a twist on the usual fairytale? Then, please read on for an exciting new book by my friend, Kerrianne. 

 

 

 

 

 

Deadly Slumber. Book 1 of The Demon Tales is now available!

 

 


 

The best selling Demon Tales are BACK!!

 

Book one was previously book 5 of the original Demon Tale line up (This book will be the only re-release from the old series. The ones that will follow will be BRAND NEW stories with entirely new characters. All coming very soon xx)

 

 

 

 

 

Book 1

Deadly Slumber – Selma and Rhand

 

Selma is wasting away, starved of light, love and happiness. Locked in a human insane asylum, cursed. When she awakens the nightmares truly begin. She has given up all hope of escaping. Until a dark stranger, with frightening eyes, secrets her away in the night.

 

Alone, bitter and determined, Rhand searches for what was taken from him. Ruthless beyond measure, nothing and no one will get in the way of fulfilling his promise to his people. The Fey who lost it all… Until his search leads him to Selma.

 

Dark Magic, demonic lands and evil inhabit the world where he takes her, but nothing compares to the power of the love between the mercenary and his Sleeping Beauty.

 


 

 

 

The Demon Tales have been a part of my life for so long. I have ‘met’ so many characters while planning this story, and the future books. I am ready now to start telling their stories. The original demon Tales stories will make their way back into publication over time, but I am focused on telling you NEW, FRESH Demon Tales.

I have re-released this book (Originally Sleeping Beauty and The Damned Demon, The Demon Tale) Because, I LOVE Selma and Rhand, and because within this book you get the chance to ‘meet’ some very important characters to the future Demon Tales.

 

This Tale is a lovely set up to my entire world. The characters within are strong, scarred and beautifully broken, but together they find a mutual reason to continue on striving for more.

 

Selma was so fantastic to write. She was so strong even through her long struggle, even managing to find a softer side to a male that made it hard to like.

Rhand, is a mess. Bitter, angry and alone, he literally does not believe what his heart is screaming at him to see.

 

When you read Deadly Slumber, I hope you fall in love in the same way I did with Rand and Selma. I hope you enjoy their journey and I look forward to taking you on many more journeys throughout the series.

For now, please enjoy Deadly Slumber.

 

You can Find Deadly Slumber by following these links ;

 




 

FOR ANYONE WHO LEAVES ME A COMMENT, I WILL SEND A PROMOTIONAL DEMON TALES MAGNET!!

I love to hear from readers, so please contact me anytime. You can find me by following these links xx



 

 

About me.

Kerrianne Coombes is the youngest of three siblings. Born in England in 19 *Cough Cough*

Books became very important to her at a very early age. Having a book obsessed mum, made finding all the greats, like Emma and Pride and Prejudice–and, of course, Anne of Green Gables–natural for her to read. The entire idea of being whipped into a new world, a new life was greatly appealing to a little girl who had far too much imagination to know what to do with.

Being the kid with braces, frizzy hair and awkward laugh, Kerrianne found she could be who she wanted to be as soon as she picked up a book.

After leaving school, she worked with horses. Later, the lure of working in a dry, warm office yanked her away from the farms and the open air. But she never found a job that suited her as well.

Though writing was something Kerrianne only started seriously after she had her babies, she has always written little stories and little poems–these were written more as a therapy when she needed to clear her mind, and usually, they were written at the office when she was supposed to be doing something mundane.

“Writing was my procrastination when I worked in an office.”

When her youngest went to school, Kerrianne found that the stories were busting to get out, and that’s when she decided to dedicate more time to what was then, her hobby.

Fast forward seven years, and Kerrianne is usually found with a coffee in hand, her eyes glued to a computer screen, writing, editing or plotting.