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.


“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.


“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.


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…”

“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 ;




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.