Door Number Four (Tuesday’s Tell-All)


Donald S. Crowley was a CPA by day; a bean counter; a number cruncher and a certified bore. By night he was as stimulating as the hero in his latest read with all the social skills of a brick and to make matters worse he was in love with a door. Not just any door, number four was special. Her alluring smile had caught Donald’s eye when he was just a boy and she called him by name. Despite years of therapy and medications she still called to him. Now he would risk his life to see her again and to finally know what lay behind Door Number IIII.

It is hard to believe Door Number Four was published over six years ago. Wow! That means I am six years older and [probably] none the wiser.

Four years ago this month Door Number Four was published in audio. Another wow! I could have earned a Bachelors degree in that 48 months or sailed around the world a few times.

Oh well…

I can’t accurately account for the years that have passed but I can tell you when I think of Door Number Four (or IIII) I am still proud of this quirky, surreal, sci-fi love story. It still intrigues me. And secretly I would love to see it in film.

I was digging in my archives for another project when I happened upon this narration sample of Door Number Four narrated by Christopher Lane.

I confess I still giggle a little when I listen to it.


Don Crowley cursed the noisy autumn leaves beneath his feet. No matter how lightly he tread on the foliage it crackled and hissed, mocking his every step, his very existence.

Another truth, sometimes when I meander through the woods picking berries, soul-searching or conversing with the wild animals, I wonder what really became of Donald S. Crowley. And sometimes…

Sometimes I think I hear Tetra seductively calling to him. “Donald, come.”

*Available wherever e-books are sold.

A Year in Pictures

A Look Back at 2018

I wasn’t very productive as far as writing [or marketing] goes but I made a few memories and I ain’t mad about that. 😀

Some of the books got a new cover, you can see them here if you’re so inclined, or you can look at a few of my pictures from 2018.

Man that flew by. Oh well…

Hasta la vista 2018, I’ll be back & here’s wishing all of YOU a HaPpY 2019!!

It’s Harvest Time …

…And time to gather your copy of Feast or Famine (The Sharecropper’s Son)

The original cover–a photo of the real sharecropper. Preview compliments of Amazon.
The new/current cover. Click this lovely cover and get a copy at your favorite e-book retailer.
Thank you to my husband and the Hill family for sharing their history and graciously allowing me artistic liberties.

XoXo

Let the Cyber Shopping Begin (Mad Monday)

I am truly  thankful for every buyer of my books but I have to give a special shout out to Barnes & Noble shoppers [HeY] and B&N.  Y’all keep the lights on. 😉

Oh, and to Draft2Digital for being an awesome di$tributor.

1 and a 2 and a 3 … A Pilgrim’s Prayer [Again] & Happy Thanksgiving Y’all

Once upon a time a long, a long time ago (before Black Friday), Thanksgiving was a celebration of harvest and a time to give thanks.

The early pilgrims did not have the conveniences we enjoy today, yet somehow they survived. (I know, it’s CRaZy, right?!)

 I didn’t really know any of those pilgrims but I did see a John Wayne movie once. John knew a pilgrim when he saw one. He seemed to know a lot of pilgrims, but that was a long time ago too.

I propose we are all pilgrims, each one of us on a journey of sorts; our own personal pilgrimage.

Aren’t we all looking for something? Be it a quest for self-confirmation, a truth, a cure, enrichment, enlightenment, comfort, a friend, a lover, a job, a meal, or a place to lay our weary head at the end of another long day.

I believe life is a journey, or at least it should be. It would be terrible to think we were just flailing through this experience, killing time on this giant floating gumball, while waiting for the next Black Friday specials.

I believe we all have one destination, though we travel many different roads and I trust that we have choices.


Hopefully we will choose well. On the occasion we take a wrong turn [and we will] I pray we have enough sense and humility to stop and seek direction, to reassess our route and to be considerate in our voyage.

So here’s wishing all of you pilgrims a Happy Thanksgiving and may we all, whatever road we’re on, take time to look ahead, pause, and meditate on the many things we have to be grateful for, put aside our grievances and give thanks.

My personal prayer: I pray our good seeds of hope, humility, toil and courage produce abundantly; that love and kindness grow wild like the weeds of early spring – fruitful and undeterred. And your harvest be rich with wisdom and discernment.


👋

Playing with Frames (Mad Monday)

How about that frame? Isn’t it cute?

Of course it is. Maybe a little lame… a lame frame ( 😀 I crack me up) but cute nonetheless. Facebook turned me on to the idea.SMOKE FREE

So what am I mad about now?

I’m mad in a good way about the sheer funness (yeah, funness is a word – look it up) in creating frames but I’m kind of pissed annoyed that Facebook would not let me use the actual book cover for Smoke Free because of the cigar. Yeah, it sends a bad message and encourages smoking. WTF?!

And I love this book cover…

The hubby designed it and that cigar was his special touch.

Smoke Free

Anyone that has read Smoke Free knows smoking is the least of Erwin Smutter’s problems. LOL. But hey, I ain’t judgin’ and I do not want to be the cause of someone picking up a stogie.

I would rather you pick up a copy of Smoke Free instead.  For 99¢ or less it might cure you. 😉

 

 

And Heeyy, don’t I look mad as a hatter and bat-shit cRaZy  in this frame? Well I am supposed to, it tis the season. HaPpY HaLloWeEn Y’all!

selfie smoke free

Cloud- by Sandra Cisneros (A Poem & A Picture)

 “If you are a poet, you will see clearly that there is a cloud floating in this sheet of paper.”—Thich Nhat Hanh

 Cloud

Before you became a cloud, you were an ocean, roiled and murmuring like a mouth.

You were the shadow of a cloud crossing over a field of tulips.

You were the tears of a man who cried into a plaid handkerchief.

You were a sky without a hat.

Your heart puffed and flowered like sheets drying on a line.

And when you were a tree, you listened to trees and the tree things trees told you.

You were the wind in the wheels of a red bicycle.

You were the spidery Maria tattooed on the hairless arm of a boy in downtown Houston.

You were the rain rolling off the waxy leaves of a magnolia tree.

A lock of straw-colored hair wedged between the mottled pages of a Victor Hugo novel.

A crescent of soap.

A spider the color of a finger nail.

The black nets beneath the sea of olive trees.

A skein of blue wool.

A tea saucer wrapped in newspaper.

An empty cracker tin.

A bowl of blueberries in heavy cream.

White wine in a green-stemmed glass.

 And when you opened your wings to wind, across the punched-tin sky above a prison courtyard, those condemned to death and those condemned to life watched how smooth and sweet a white cloud glides.

*Sandra Cisneros (born December 20, 1954) is an American writer best known for her acclaimed first novel The House on Mango Street (1984) and her subsequent short story collection Woman Hollering Creek and Other Stories (1991). She is the recipient of numerous awards including a National Endowment for the Arts Fellowship, and is regarded as a key figure in Chicana literature.

Oh my goodness, those final lines left me a little misty eyed. I do not recall reading Sandra Cisneros before but I certainly enjoyed Cloud and in case I haven’t told you 1000 times  Getting Me Back (The Voices Within) released this month and is now available in digital or paperback. I will be saying it again, and again… and again in case you missed it. As a matter of fact I am going to paste it on every NPM post.

P.S. If you have a recommendation for a poem (even your own) Get in Touch

It’s Okay to Die Poor (But Who the Heck Was Milton?)

 

Don’t you just love an ancient oracle with history and mystery served up in rhyming little stanzas?

Say, “Yes Janna. Indeed I do love such wonderful things.”

Thank you. Now say “Yay NPM!!” and let’s get started.

The following is an excerpt from William Blake’s epic poem titled Milton. I like Blake for several reasons. The main two being that he was a nonconformist and that he believed poetry could be understood by common people.

Allow me to share his sentiment right quick.

Listen up folks!

Poetry can be understood [and enjoyed] by common people!!!

Those are also [probably] the main two reasons he died poor. But you know what? It’s okay to die poor; I’m sure I will. After all a casket can only hold so much. Me and ole Billy can agree on that but who the heck was Milton?

 Martindale Lake District Cumbria England Free Images

Jerusalem

by William Blake

And did those feet in ancient time
Walk upon England’s mountains green?
And was the holy Lamb of God
On England’s pleasant pastures seen?

And did the Countenance Divine
Shine forth upon our clouded hills?
And was Jerusalem builded here
Among these dark Satanic Mills?

Bring me my bow of burning gold!
Bring me my arrows of desire!
Bring me my spear! O clouds, unfold!
Bring me my chariot of fire!

I will not cease from mental fight,
Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand,
Till we have built Jerusalem
In England’s green and pleasant land.

_________________________________________________________________________________________

Now off to find out more about this John Milton character…