Charlene's Novel Sizzles in the Summer

Happily Ever After or Not?

Mon, 08 Sep 2008 00:22:42 GMT

Happily Ever After or Not?
Current mood: annoyed
Category: Writing and Poetry

.. I write Adventurous Romance. That means, at least to me, the heroine and the hero are thrown into danger, intrigue, harrowing escapes, monsters, betrayal, suspicion, disaster and so forth. They run, they fight, they hide and they sometimes distrust each other. But each and every time, they discover that they are the ones they can trust in. The hero discovers that no matter what happened, he can rely on the heroine. She learns that no matter how badly things have gone, the heroine is able to trust the hero. By the end of the book, The monster has been destroyed; The villain has been defeated; All is right with the world; and The hero and the heroine live happily ever after.

Some how that seems to be changing.

The other day I was reading a book that was heralded and reviewed as a romance. It was Urban Fantasy and both the location where I bought it online and the numerous reviews I read of the book before I bought it touted it as a romance. (No, I am not going to tell you the author, the name of the book or the place I bought it.)

The book was exciting. The plot was a page-turner. I stayed up until 2 AM reading it. The hero was dashing, handsome, tortured, heroic, all the things you want in a hero. The heroine was heroic, strong, self-assured, independent, learning to rely on the hero, growing, opening up, becoming less of a pain in the ass and more of the love of the heroe's life, in other words, everything you want in a romance heroine. I wanted to finish the book - I had to finish the book. I had to see how everything turned out.

..Everything Went to Crap.

The hero was killed. The heroine was mentally and physically destroyed. The object of the adventure was taken away and not rescued. The villain disappeared, not defeated, and not destroyed. The bad guys won, the good guys lost.

Now, I will admit, perhaps this is a book that is supposed to be the beginning of a series, sort of like the Star Wars saga. But I was terribly disappointed with the ending. The adventure throughout the book was great but the ending ruined the entire book for me.

I want a happy ending when I read. Life, the Universe, and Everything (with a nod to Douglas Adams) gives me enough of bad endings. If I want heroes to die, all I have to do is listen to the news. The same thing for the bad guys winning - listen to the news. I want my heroes to stomp the daylights out of the bad guys. I want my heroines to be taking a deep breath of contentment when everything is said and done. I don't want my heroine to be left crying her eyes out feeling bereft and alone when the book says The End.

What about you? Do you want your romances to be reflective of real life - as in the good guys do not always win and the bad guys walk away untouched? Or do you want a Happy Ever After in your romance?

Stone of Cruento Reviewed Yea!

Tue, 22 Jul 2008 23:27:56 GMT

Stone of Cruento reviewed by Simply Romance Reviews

Stone of Cruento reviewed by Simply Romance Yea!

Stone of Cruento

Charlene Leatherman

Cerridwen Press

May 2008

ISBN: 9781419916984

Fantasy

Order from Cerridwen Press

Synopsis:

Claren Maxwell felt she was misplaced, like she belonged somewhere else. Even as a vampire she was not like the others. Claren didn’t like to kill. She avoided intimacy with human men. It was too dangerous. Claren wanted to fit in. She wanted to be loved and protected. So she dreamed, but the dreams were becoming too real. She dreamt of three men. In real life she would have to choose one, right?The three men in her dreams materialize. Belgretor, a giant of a man from Cruento, protects her. Daniel is a vampire from Earth who desires her. Jamros is a centaur from Cruento who is drawn to her by destiny. Together the four of them must find a way to stop the destruction of Earth and Cruento.Can Claren choose between the three men she loves while saving the worlds she inadvertently put in jeopardy?

Lynda of Simply Romance Reviews gives Stone of Cruento the SRR GRADE: A

Vampires, goblins, centaurs….a vastly different alternate reality, that’s what you get from the Stone of Cruento. I loved the depth of the characterization and the story building in this riveting fantasy.Claren was a vampire but not the same as other vampires. Repeated dreams of three men and love only served to make her desire a love of her own. Though attracted to vampire Daniel, she doesn’t trust him and resists his charm. Her constant companion is Belgretor but she has yet to learn his full potential, and then there is the prophecy.One plot twist after another with love, sex, intrigue, back stabbing centaurs, you name it this story delivers.

Charlene Leatherman weaves this story tighter than a rug and hands us a story that will leave us breathless and hoping for more.The Stone of Cruento is a great story and so much more. Claren has to juggle the relationship of three totally different beings let alone men while being in the middle of a prophecy she has no idea about. This is just excellent story telling. Don’t hesitate to pick up this exceptional book. I guarantee you won’t be disappointed.

A Rose By Any Other Name

Fri, 18 Jul 2008 02:06:24 GMT

Lovac followed the trail with ease. Like most lionesses, this one did not give him much of a challenge. He sighed. Except for the entertainment of the audience Lovac didn’t see the need for the hunt at all. It would be easier on him and the lionesses if they just threw them in a room and recorded their sex act. A different type of entertainment, probably not one that the people would want to broadcast to an audience filled with children. Better to have the thrill of the hunt ended with copulation.

Still, he thought the way the lioness looked at him at the starting gate she would have given him a greater challenge. She was not hiding her tracks at all. He didn’t have to look for the bent blade of grass or search for the gentle press of a foot print. This lioness wanted him to follow her, wanted him to catch her, and wanted him to bed her.

Or so Lovac thought.

He pulled up short when the tracks took on a decidedly different feel. Instead of being hard footed and obvious, the lioness began to step softly. The tread became lighter and lighter until no one except a trained hunter like he was could have followed the trail. Lovac knelt beside a single bent sprig of grass, the only sign the lioness passed by.

“What are you up to, my pretty?” Lovac asked no one in particular and everyone on the broadcast feed. He followed the barely noticeable trail to the edge of forest next to a tunnel of some sort.

Lovac had never been in this part of the hunting field before. He saw delicate, soft tracks near the cave-like entrance. He also saw the deep claw marks on the tree limbs as though a large cat had scrabbled up the tree in a hurry.

“Exactly what you want me to think,” Lovac whispered. One of his requirements as a participant in the ‘Hunt’ was to make sure the audience was aware of his deductions. “Yet, these prints near this…this tunnel seem a bit too convenient as well. Where are you, my pretty?”

Zna rankled when he called her his ‘pretty’. She had a name. She was introduced to him, yet he continued to view her as a piece of property. From her hiding place above the Hole she watched the hunter stand and look around. He was better than she thought. Better than other hunters she encountered.

Better looking too. Zna let her eyes swing over the hunter below her. What is my attraction? Zna smiled to herself. Besides the broad chest, and narrow hips. He is muscular. I wonder what it would be like to have his arms wrapped around me? My legs wrapped around him. Zna caught herself. His pheromones must be extremely high. I want to crawl down from this tree and make him mine. From what I hear he is quite a stud.

Zna swallowed her feelings. Bescjen is my only concern. Besides, his is a hunter. I am a lioness. No matter what my body desires I have to stay focused.

She had to wait until he stepped into the entrance of the Hole following her fake foot steps. Then she could push him through its mouth. It would take him more than thirty ticks to get out of the Hole, even if he was only at the mouth. Doing it that way, she would be free of the Hole and would achieve her lead. The mouth of the Hole would not do Lovac a tremendous amount of harm, merely delay him. She did not want to push him deeper, nor did she want to follow him into the Hole. It would mean possible death for him and the end of her winning the hunt. It would take too long to get out of it. Bescjen would be in jeopardy.

Zna tensed, ready to pounce.

Lovac raised his head, sniffing the air. He was a skilled hunter. He followed tracks that no other hunter could. He shot truer and knew traps from superbly simple to agonizingly complex. He knew a trap when he saw one. He also knew scents.

He was looking at a trap. He smelled the scent of a lioness.

His pheromones were biologically enhanced. One of the reasons he was a preferred stud was that the lionesses were attracted to him by scent. For some reason, this lioness, this Zna, resisted him. She played the game of making him think she wanted him, leaving well defined tracks. Then, at the mouth of this…cave, her method changed.

Lovac backed away from the blackness facing him. He slung his rifle over his shoulder. The weapon was armed with two kinds of ammunition. The first was a marking pellet. It would mark Zna showing that he captured her. The second type of bullet was a tranquilizer. It wouldn’t put her to sleep. What amusement would that give? It would relax her and make her willing to accept his mating with her. Most of the lionesses he hunted never needed the second bullet. Lovac couldn’t remember when he fired a second bullet.

Looking around the trees that edged the clearing he stood in, Lovac wondered if he would need the second bullet this time. Would he need a real bullet, one that killed? Would she be one of the lionesses that attempted to kill her hunter? It happened rarely, but it happened. Most of the time, death during a hunt was of the lioness. Hunters, poor hunters, got carried away with adrenaline and the lionesses scent. The feline woman was beaten to death.

Lovac gave a bitter laugh. Another thing that was destroying the true beauty of the Hunt. The government gave hunters carte blanche. They could kill lionesses with immunity. Unconsciously he reached for the knife in the sheath at his belt.

Was she one of the ones that refused to give in to the government? According to her profile she has not been mated since she was inducted into the Hunt. Lovac racked his brain trying to remember if any of the hunters had been injured or killed. He had not read the file on Zna as he should have. He committed a cardinal sin of hunters. He did not know his enemy.

A bird flew out of a tree nearby jerking Lovac back to the Hole. He scanned the tree line and saw nothing that indicated a lioness. Either she was gone through the trees like her deep claw marks indicated, or she was hiding in the trees watching him. Lovac did not believe that she went into the cave in front of him.

Cave. Tunnel. Neither name seemed appropriate. He could admit he was whipped and communicate to the Handlers for information about this area of the hunt zone. He had not traveled to this location before. It was an unknown. And he was led here.

Lovac put his hand into the darkness of the cave mouth. In a normal cave, he would see his hand in the shadows. He would see the gradation from light to dark on his skin. He didn’t. His hand simply disappeared. Lovac pulled his hand back. It was his hand, unharmed. Yet when he put his hand into the darkness it was as if his arm ended at his wrist.

Backing from the cave Lovac searched around the ground for a long branch. He found one and moved to the darkness. He stuck the branch into the darkness about three feet into the darkness.

Nothing, just the illusion that the stick ended where the darkness began.

Suddenly something took hold of the stick and tugged. The branch was pulled out of Lovac’s hands. He jumped back, bringing his rifle forward in one fluid motion. Whatever was in the darkness would not be hurt with the bullets he carried, but maybe he could slow them down. If it was the lioness he would fire twice rapidly, subduing her. He was tired of this game she played. He wanted to get the mating done and get back to his quiet life.

Zna bit her lip to keep from growling in anger. The hunter was not supposed to test the Hole. He was supposed to walk in, following her steps. Her whiskers twitched as she tried to decide her next course to take.

“Lovac,” the Handler’s name spoke over the com-link the hunter wore at his ear.

“Here,” Lovac answered. It was voice activated. He did not move his hands from his rifle. It was useless against a real attack, but it made him feel better as he stared at the darkness that swallowed the branch.

“I took the com off line. The audience is getting restless. Do something.”

“Give me a reading on that,” Lovac nodded his head toward the darkness.

“Are you giving up?” the voice on the other end asked. “I don’t think I have ever heard you ask for a reading.”

“You said we were off line, right?” Lovac waited for the assent. “Give me a reading on that cave or you will be my next target. I won’t have these useless tranquilizer bullets either.”

Lovac smiled as the pause on the other end lengthened beyond the normal for checking equipment.

“Mister Lovac,” the voice of the Handler was respectful and wavering. Lovac heard the voice of the Handler’s supervisor in the background. Lovac was valuable. He was not to be mocked. “According to the readout, there is nothing there.”

“Can you see what I am looking at?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you still tell me there is nothing there?”

“I can see the…the whatever it is, but according to the scanners nothing is there.”

“A hologram?”

“No,sir. Just nothing. It’s like there is a hole in the universe where nothing is. Not even anti-matter like a black hole. Just nothing.”

Lovac took in a deep breath. “Where is the lioness?”

Zna heard the hunter talking to the Handlers. They were off-line according to what she heard. No audio, no vid for the audience. Probably some kind of government announcement going on. And they were going to pinpoint her location in just a second. She had to act, now.

Screeching from her perch, Zna leapt for the hunter. She angled her leap and landed square on his back. She sank her claws into the heavy jacket Lovac wore. The hunter rolled as she knew he would. Instead of trying to gain purchase and get to her feet to fight, Zna used the momentum of the roll to continue forward. She pushed with her back legs and her tail and shoved. Zna and Lovac rolled into the Hole.

“Lovac? Lovac? Come in. Lovac? What in the name of the Spirits is going on?” the Handler’s voice shouted over the com-link that was knocked off Lovac’s ear as he and Zna fought. The handler looked at his supervisor. One moment he had readings on the hunter and the lioness. The next they were gone. Not moved. Simply gone. The scanner said there was no one there, only a space of nothing.

His Shadowed Heart by Hazel Statham

Wed, 16 Jul 2008 22:37:25 GMT

His Shadowed Heart by Hazel Statham

I hope you will allow me to introduce you to the romance of Regency and Georgian England.

Romance means many different things to so many different people. A glance, a word, just a little unexpected gesture, all have the power to charm. In Regency and Georgian times when young girls were chaperoned in almost every situation, the language of the fan was used to convey messages to would-be suitors and lovers. Hearts could be broken across the space of a ballroom if a lady’s gestures were not favourable.

There were fans for every occasion and the owners lost no chance to wield them to their advantage. A fan placed close to the heart means I love you. A half-opened fan pressed to the lips – you may kiss me. The fan resting on the left cheek, means no, the right cheek, yes. However, there are many gestures and all are not favourable, for example a fan held over the left ear means I wish to be rid of you.
Gentlemen, not to be outdone, often resorted to the language of flowers to express their feelings and whether it be a single flower or a huge bouquet, the message would be clear. There appears to be a flower for every emotion, Acacia - Secret love, Ambrosia - Love returned, Anemone - Unfading love, Arbutus - Only love. Not only did they show love, but withered flowers show rejected love.
These are just a few examples of the messages that could be conveyed by these methods but give you some idea of how love could be lost or won without a word being spoken.

Introducing Guest Author Hazel Statham

Wed, 09 Jul 2008 17:24:36 GMT

Let Me Introduce Guest Blogger and Author Hazel Statham

Hazel Statham will be gracing us with a visit during her Virtual Blog Tour during the month of July. She will be talking about her lastest book

His Shadowed Heart

Here is a blurb:

Can a shadowed heart be healed? Can love grow where least expected? The Earl of Waverly believes not. How wrong can he be!

After the death of his wife, the Earl of Waverly, believing his heart irreparably damaged, enters into a marriage of convenience. However, he is not prepared for the healing influence his new young bride has on his life.

Despite the couple’s new-found happiness, nefarious deeds abound and strange happenings are attributed to the ghost of his former wife. Will their love stand the test or will the perpetrator emerge the victor?

Let me introduce Hazel:

Hazel lives in Staffordshire, England. She started writing at fifteen and has written on and off ever since. She has always been fascinated by history, especially the Regency and Georgian eras and it is the romance and elegance of these times that she tries to recreate in her work.
When she was a child, she often told herself stories and this just progressed to committing them to paper to entertain family and friends. There have however, been gaps in her writing years where marriage and employment intervened, but now that she no longer works, she is able to return to her first love and devote her time to writing. She had her first two novels published in 2005.

She has been married to her husband Terry since 1969 and they have a grown daughter and beautiful grandson. Apart from reading and writing historical novels, her other ruling passion is animals and until recently, she was treasurer for an organization that raised money for animal charities.She currently shares her home with two lovely yellow Labradors named Lucy and Mollie, who are her constant companions. Mollie is a recent addition to the family and at five-months-old is keeping everyone on their toes.

Writers, Emotions, and Reviews

Wed, 02 Jul 2008 18:40:47 GMT

Writers, Emotions and Reviews

One major attribute of a fiction writer - whatever the genre - is to feel emotions. The writer has to be able to feel the emotions so they can put those same emotions on paper well enough so the reader feels the same emotions. Adventure writers have to make their reader's heart pound, their pulse quicken and those pages turn. Romance writers have to make their reader's heart go pitter-pat, their pulse quickens and depending what kind of romance, tears fall, body parts go 'oh my' and a sigh escapes when the happy ever after happens. Mystery, suspense, thriller, horror writers all have to feel the emotions they want the readers to feel - fear, tension, anxiety, startle, checking behind doors and under the bed for spookies. Writers have to know and feel these emotions so they can write them.

But therein is the problem. Writers also live in a real world with real life that creates real emotions. That is probably why, historically, writers are drawn to alcohol and drugs. Because writers feel things intensely, whether it is in real life or in imagination.

So, when a writer gets a bad review, life crashes around them. After all, it is not just rejection of an object. It is rejection of the outpouring by the writer of personal emotions into a medium that everyone can see and someone had the audiacity to reject.

We all learn how to deal with negative reviews. We pout, stomp our feet, drink, eat chocolate, and myriad other things to get rid of the negative emotions the review puts into our psyche.

This blog is not about a negative review.

When a writer gets a good review there is just as much emotion - but this time there is dancing, singing, yelling it from the rooftop, eating chocolate (there is always chocolate no matter what emotion, at least for me there is) and all sorts of things to do to savor the wonderful emotions we gratefully receive.

I was doubly blessed this week. I got good reviews for Prophecy of Vithan

and for Stone of Cruento.

Jean of Fallen Angels Reviews at http://www.fallenangelreviews.com/2008/June/Jean-ProphecyOfVithan.htm gave Prophecy of Vithan 5 Fallen Angels and said it is a recommended read.

Every once in a while, I find a book that grabs me and draws me into the emotional life of the protagonist, making it almost impossible for me to stop reading. Prophecy of Vithan is such a book. This is a complex, multi-layered science fiction novel with a great love story mixed in. It includes the stories of a mentor protecting her student, a woman trapped by slavery, a man and woman chained together by an emotional connection they cannot resist, a rogue organization attempting to gain absolute control over the true government, and the fulfillment of an ancient prophecy that will save the world. That's a lot to cover in one book! The love story will be very satisfying to the romantics among us, with a few moderately explicit erotic love scenes for spice. I wholeheartedly recommend this very interesting science fiction romance as great summer reading.

Amy of Bitten by Books at http://bittenbybooks.com/?p=419 gave Stone of Cruento 4 Grave Stones and said

This is an enjoyable story of adventure, love, betrayal, faith and belief that kept my full attention from the moment I started reading the first page. Did I mention the love scenes are hot and wild?

So, I am breaking out the chocolate, dancing on the rooftop while yelling and soaking in all these good feelings. I will then sit down and write like crazy a scene that will give my readers something to feel deeply.

Adventure Peril and Intrigue All Day Long June 18

Tue, 17 Jun 2008 22:34:13 GMT

I am co-hosting Danger Zone Theme Day on Catanetwork Message Board on June 18. It's an all day marathon where you can come read some excerpts from authors of Action and Adventure novels. You'll have a chance to ask questions, participate in contests, and discover that perfect book for your summer reading.
Authors, if you write Action, Adventure, Suspense, Thrillers, and everything that makes the reader's pulse race, then stop by and share some of your work.
You have to register first, so be sure to do that today so you will be able to participate in the Theme Day first thing Wednesday, June 18th. The link to the registeration form is
http://ping.fm/gk9sI

Look forward to seeing you there!

Catanetwork 99 Theme Days of Summer - June 18th is Danger Zone Theme - all things Action & Adventure

Thu, 12 Jun 2008 17:05:18 GMT

Come One, Come All. Calling all authors of action and adventure fiction or non-fiction. Calling all readers of action and adventure.

Catanetworks is having 99 days of themes throughout the summer.

June 18th is Danger Zone Theme co-hosted by yours truly, Charlene Leatherman.

Authors! Come by and share the books, stories, poetry, anything you have written that fits into the theme of action and adventure. The theme day is not restricted by genre. You can share your work whether it is mystery, romance, thriller, suspense, fiction or non-fiction, anything that gets your heart racing and your pulse pounding. If you have a contest or two that is demanding to be announced, we would love to hear about it. The more the merrier.

Readers! Stop by and read excerpts of these exciting works. Chat with the authors themselves. discover the action and adventure books you will want to read this summer. Have you seen the new Indiana Jone movie? How about Kung Fu Panda? Stop by and tell us what you like about the movie. Want to read a book that hasn't been written yet? Now is a perfect opportunity to let talented authors know what you want to read. Want to enter a contest or two? Our authors may have some wonderful prizes for you to win. You won't know unless you stop by. And you definitely can't win unless you enter.

You have to register with Catanetwork Message Boards to participate, but registration and participation is free. Stop by today and register so you will be sure to join in.

The link to register is http://mb.catanetwork.com/upload/index.php?act=Reg&CODE=00

Authors if you have any questions email privately at disonij@aol.com with the words Danger Themes in the subject line.

Hope to see everyone there. We are going to have a very adventurous day! As the Danger Zone Authors say, Adventure, Peril, Intrigue is Just a Click Away.

Charlene Leatherman

Zna Menita - the Serial Continues

Thu, 12 Jun 2008 05:44:39 GMT

Zna moved, twisted first one way then the next, stretching in preparation for the hunt to begin. There always seemed to be something that delayed the beginning of the hunt. Sometimes it seemed the broadcasters did something purposefully to increase their viewers. Suspense! Anticipation! All the elements of drawing in a larger audience. She glanced at the hunter, Lovac. He seemed as nervous and edgy as she was. Zna wondered what went through a hunter’s mind prehunt. She slightly shook her head. No, she didn’t wonder what went through hunters’ minds, only this hunter’s mind. She watched as the referees discussed something in low tones. She caught herself just before she reached for the key Tosca gave her. She couldn’t give away the location of the key.

The Minister of the Hunt appeared on the floating vidscreen hovering over the starting gate.

“We at the Ministry of the Hunt regret to announce that due to the lack of audience each night, we must cut back on expenses. As such we will be eliminating certain positions.”

Tosca and the other Handlers walked quietly onto the staging platform. Tosca had a look of resignation on his face, uncovered by his mask. The other Handlers looked confused, a little frightened. The referees moved away from the platform.

A light flashed brilliantly.

Zna blinked, partly at the light, partly to keep the tears from falling. Her feline eyes adjusted to the light immediately. She knew the humans, the referees, the hunter, all were blinded for several seconds. They did not see the bodies destroyed, disintegrated by the light ray. Rather they only saw the empty platform when the light cleared.

“We no longer need the Handlers. They have been transferred to another place,” The Minister announced over the vidscreen .

Zna heard the humans in the audience murmur in understanding. Those standing on the platform had been moved from one place to another place where they would be useful. Zna resisted the urge to extend her claws, leap into the audience and rip the throats out of the people. They are so stupid. They choose not to see the truth. Some day the government will turn on them. Leana will have her revenge someday.

The Minister of the Hunt bade everyone a good night. The vidscreen shimmered and changed to the view of the first lap of the hunt. Cheery lights and popular music danced around the staging area.

The hunt was about to begin.

Failure

Fri, 06 Jun 2008 20:49:15 GMT

Failure

A few thoughts about failure:

There is much to be said for failure. It is more interesting than success. Max Beerbohm

There s no failure except in no longer trying. Elbert Hubbard

From The Internet from unknown sources

Failure is only a temporary change in direction to set you straight for your next success.
Only those who dare to fail greatly can ever achieve greatly.
Our business in life is not to succeed, but to continue to fail in good spirits.
If there exists no possibility of failure, then victory is meaningless.
Remember, no man is a failure who has friends.
Experience is simply the name we give our mistakes.
Courage is going from failure to failure without losing enthusiasm.
The only real failure in life is the failure to try.
There are no secrets to success. It is the result of preparation, hard work, and learning from failure.
Life’s real failure is when you do not realize how close you were to success when you gave up.
Success builds character, failure reveals it.
There are no failures - just experiences and your reactions to them.
Failure is the tuition you pay for success.
A man may fall many times, but he won’t be a failure until he says that someone pushed him.
Failure is not falling down but refusing to get up.
I have not failed. I’ve just found 10,000 ways that won’t work.
Never confuse a single defeat with a final defeat.

Failure is the opportunity to begin again more intelligently. Moshe Arens

Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try Agan. Fail again. Fail better. Samuel Beckett

Success doesn't come to you . . . you go to it.- Marva Collins
Success is not the result of spontaneous combustion. You must first set yourself on fire.- Fred Shero

Success seems to be largely a matter of hanging on after others have let go.- William Feather
Half the failures in life arise from pulling in one's horse as he is leaping.- Augustus Hare
If you stop every time a dog barks, your road will never end.- Arabian Proverb
Anyone who has never made a mistake has never tried anything new. - Albert Einstein
In order for you to profit from your mistakes, you have to go out and make some.- Unknown
Success doesn't mean the absence of failures; it means the attainment of ultimate objectives. It means winning the war, not every battle.- Edward Bliss
Failure is success if we learn from it.- Malcolm Forbes
Success does not consist in never making mistakes, but in never making them a second time.- George Bernard Shaw
The season of failure is the best time for sowing the seeds of success.- Paramahansa Yogananda
Get up one more time than you're knocked down.- Peter's Principle of Success
If all else fails, immortality can always be assured by spectacular error.- John Kenneth Galbraith
We are not retreating - we are advancing in another direction. - Douglas MacArthur

My favorite and the reason for this blog:

From my close observation of writers, they fall into two groups: 1) those who bleed copiously and visibly at any bad review, and 2) those who bleed copiously and secretly at any bad review. - Isaac Asimov

I recieved my first review of Stone of Cruento. If you would like to read the review here is the link http://goodbadandunread.com/2008/06/01/review-stone-of-cruento-by-charlene-leatherman/#more-5132

My response to the review? I thanked the reviewer for her reviews, it gives me another direction in which to advance, and give me something to learn from. I let you, the reader, know that Stone of Cruento might be something for you to think about. I will get back to writing Vials of Aquilonia all the while making corrections in my writing course.

A Rose By Any Other Name Continues

Thu, 05 Jun 2008 05:04:34 GMT

A Rose By Any Other Name continues

Lovac rolled his shoulders, stretching, readying himself for the hunt. He despised what the government called entertainment. The hunt was a tradition centuries old. His father and grandfather were hunters. In the old days, a hunter sought a lioness, pursued her then if he captured her he was given the right to compete against the lions for her attentions. It was the way of Dyad to keep the gene pool level between the feline based humanoids and the covjecji, or the non-lion humans.
Female covjecji used to hunt with the lionesses, bringing game to the lions to compete for the attentions of the male feline. The government stopped the female covs, as they were called, from hunting. Human females could only mate with human males.
Lovac watched as the gene pool became weaker. It had been ten years since a healthy baby was born to a totally covjecji couple. Dyad was simply not meant to have the species separated. Lion and cov were meant to compete, to couple, to mate. It was the way the Ancients planned it. The Spirit of Dyad, Leana was pictured as a woman with the head of a lion. The two species combined.
The government changed the way it was meant to be. The government chose blood-thirsty hunters out of the thousands of registered hunters. They sent the men out to destroy the lions. Wiped out hundreds of lions. Orphaned thousands of cubs and widowed hundreds of lionesses.
Probably took the husband of the beautiful lioness standing before him. She certainly held the look of hatred in her eyes.
The government also took advantage of the mating instincts of the lionesses. The female felines were almost driven to mate. The powers that be wanted to keep the lion gene pool unchanged. They wanted the lioness to mate with the covs.

Lovac didn’t know the reason why, he didn’t care.

The government also wanted the process broadcast over the moon-wide holovision.
Lovac took a deep breath. He hadn’t been given a choice. If he had he certainly would not have chosen to be part of some twisted Minister’s idea of entertainment. His father, in his old age, became a prolific gambler. Lost everything his family ever owned. Lost more than everything. The government took Lovac as a young man and enslaved him. He could have run, but the government still had his mother and sister as hostage. If he didn’t hunt, the Ministers would kill his mother and sister. So, Lovac hunted. And he hunted a lot since he was the choice of most of the audience.
Hunters were chosen for their gene appropriateness. Lovac was considered a perfect mate.
Perfect! Yeah, I’m perfect. A perfect stud. I hunt, or pretend to hunt depending on how badly the lioness wants to mate. I capture and impregnate. There is no hunt anymore. No thrill in the chase, no pursuit, no competition. All there was any more was a moon-wide broadcast of my sexual exploits. I’m perfect alright, a perfect whore.

Lovac eyed the lioness before him. Perhaps she would be different. There was something challenging about her. The way she stood perhaps. The confident swish of her tail. The way her ears laid back. Not to mention her curvaceous body. The hunting jumpsuit did nothing to hide her lush hips, the full globes of her breasts and her flat stomach.

Lovac could feel arousal thrumming through his veins. He inhaled deeply, pulling from his training as a hunter to remove the evidence of his attraction. The Ministers would not be happy if he displayed too soon.

A Rose By Any Other Name page 3

Sat, 31 May 2008 02:47:49 GMT

Zna suppressed the growl growing in her throat as the Handler locked the collar around her throat. Of all the humiliating and maddening parts of the Hunt, having a collar locked around her throat like she was some kind of house cat, was the worst. The Handlers always had masks on to protect them from any kind of retribution. But they couldn’t suppress their smell.

“Do you ever get tired of being a Handler, Tosca?” Zna asked the hooded Handler.

“As much as you are tired of the hunt. We each have to do what we must to survive,” Tosca answered.

The Handler was a friend of Zna. They had known each other since childhood. Tosca was from the species Grlica. Zna had heard off-world hunters call him a turtle. She was sure that was misspoken. Tosca did have a beak instead of whiskers like she did. He also had scaly skin and a hard shell on his back. But he also had wings. Tiny useless wings, but wings nevertheless.

Zna was knocked out of her revelry when Tosca pressed a tiny object into her hand. She opened her hands slowly, under cover of their two bodies. Shiny and hard, a metal key rested in her palm.

“What is this?” Zna asked.

“The key to the collar,” Tosca whispered as he pretended to adjust the collar. “You know I see visions sometimes.”

“Yeah, your mother was a Psy. So?”

“I don’t know anything precise. All I know you will need the key and,” Tosca leaned in. The mask touched Zna’s check. She felt Tosca’s beak touching her, kissing her cheek. “This is good bye. You will not see me again. I want to give you a present, that is why the key.”

Zna placed the little piece of metal in one of her pockets in the jumpsuit she wore.

Tosca backed away as the hunter approached.

Zna inhaled steadying herself for the first look at the man who would hunt her, and if she lost, mate with her. She always dreaded this instant.

The last hunt she ran the male was not only humanoid, but he was white and pasty as though he had not gone outside for several moon cycles. His belly hung over the belt that held his trousers up. His face was jowly and pock-marked. Zna had suspected that he was a hunter more due to money paid in the dark than hunting skills. It would have been an easy hunt if it had not been for the fancy tech traps he used. She had nearly lost her leg with one of the traps he set. However, she won and the Mister had his money.

Turning toward the harsh, solid thunk of boots walking along the wooden platform, Zna let her breath out with a whoosh. She had to consciously remember to start breathing again.

The hunter coming at her was breath-taking. His powerful well-muscled body moved with easy grace. The rich outlines of his shoulders strained against the fabric of his hunting jacket. His compelling blue eyes pierced raked over her taking in her body in one swift glance. The set of his chin suggested a stubborn streak. The hunter smiled at one of the people sitting beside the platform, not at her. His teeth, even and white, contrasted pleasingly with his olive skin. This hunter spent a lot of time active and outside. He had an air of authority and the appearance of one who demanded instant obedience.

The tantalizing smell of his spicy after-shave and the musk of his masculinity wafted to Zna. She felt her body respond to his pheromones. Zna bit into her tongue to put her body back where it belonged, ready to win a hunt. She raised her eyes to find him watching her. His captured her eyes with his, holding her mesmerized for an instant, studying her. The light of desire flashed in his eyes. He looked at her for a sign of objection or acceptance. Zna kept her face passive and her eyes hooded. She wanted to give nothing, not a shred of advantage to the hunter.

“Well, now, let’s get this thing on the road,” the hunter said breaking his gaze away from Zna.

The referee, a member of the Ministry, came forward. “Lovac, this is the lioness you will be hunting, Zna Menita. She has triumphed in seventeen hunts. She will give you a good run.”

Lovac laughed. The sound rumbled deep within his chest. Zna felt his laugh all the way down to her toes. The last time she felt this draw toward a male was when her husband was alive.

The remembrance of her husband, his mane matted with blood from a hunter’s machete, dying in her lap made her blood run cold. It was this type of human that destroyed her family. It was this type of human that held her daughter hostage.

Zna vowed that no matter how much she was drawn to this human male, she would not lose this hunt. She would not be mated to a despised human. And to make the thirty tick advantage she would kill this Lovac if necessary.

A Rose By Any Other Name - page 2

Mon, 26 May 2008 02:00:33 GMT

A Rose By Any Other Name, page 2

If you like reading fantasy with an adventurous twist. If you like erotica but like it as part of the story instead of the focus of the story. Check out my latest book Stone of Cruento available at Cerridwen Press.
Charlene Leatherman
Defeat the Villain, Destroy the Monster, Deliver the Hero, and Never Break A Nail.

Now for the next installment of A Rose By Any Other Name

Zna shifted nervously as she waited for the hunter to arrive. She glanced at the com-link on her wrist. She didn't want to here from the person on the other end of the com. She jumped when the device on her wrist buzzed.
"Another hunt?"
"You know all about it. You arrange all my hunts," Zna said with venom.
"Yes, I do. We are almost to the end of our relationship."
"We don't have a relationship. You have my daughter. I am trying to get her back. That does not create a relationship."
"I have a lot of money riding on you this hunt."
"When don't you? Let me speak to my daughter."
"Perhaps after you win."
"No, now. Let me speak to her or I don't run."
The voice on the other end of the com-link chuckled. "You are not in a position to barter. If you don't run, your daughter dies."
"She may as well be dead already, since I never see her. If I don't run you lose your money."
"You have a point. I do not want to lose my money nor do I want to kill your daughter. She is too valuable to me, to you, to Dyad for that matter. I will concede, but with a condition."
Zna sighed. "There is always a condition with you. What do you want this time?"
"I want a larger spread on the points. You have won each hunt but there has not been any odds on the outcome. I want you to win with a thirty tick advantage over the hunter."
"Thirty ticks? I am out there running for my life and the life of my daughter. How do I know the hunter is not going to want to kill me? Six lionesses were killed instead of mated last cycle. I have to run as though it is my life. I am not willing to slow down. Not only do I not want to mate with a hunter, but I want my daughter back. But how in Leana's name do I run a hunt and win with a thirty tick advantage?"
"The how is not my concern. If you want to talk to your daughter you have to agree to win with a thirty tick lead. If you only want to win, then you do not need to talk to your daughter. It is simple."
Zna felt defeated, trapped. "Very well. You will have your thirty ticks. The hunter doesn't have to survive, does he?"
The voice at the other end of the com-link laughed. "Not at all. Losing a hunter might even create more audience. But that is your call. Here is your daughter."
"Mama?" A tiny voice timidly spoke over the communications device.
"I am here Bescjen. I wanted to hear your voice before I ran again," Zna could feel the tears building behind her eyes and a lump of emotion grew in her throat.
"I am well Mama. I do as I am told and I behave myself. The Mister allowed me to have some sweets last night. He said that you ran very well and made him a lot of money. Mama, if I refuse sweets will you come home and stop running the hunts?"
Zna wanted to cry. She wanted to hold her baby in her arms and hear the soft purring deep in her child's chest as they nestled together.
"Bescjen, the choice for me to stop running the hunt is up to the Mister. Although, if I win this hunt there will only be two more to run."
"Then we will go home?" Bescjen asked.
"You had better get ready for the hunt. Bes has school work she must complete," the voice of Mister interrupted. "And remember thirty ticks."
"Yes," Zna replied. "Thirty ticks and only two more hunts, then you free her." Or else. Zna said in her thoughts.

If you would prefer that I not have your art on my blog, please notify me at my email disonij@aol.com and I will take it down immediately.

I am sending out an Invitation

Sat, 24 May 2008 20:13:42 GMT

I belong to a group of writers called The Danger Zone Authors. We are a group of authors that write action, adventure, suspense, thrillers, and all the inbetween genres. My day to blog with them is Sunday. I am putting out an invitation to any authors that read this blog and who also write action/adventure novels. If you would like to be a guest blogger on a Sunday, then email me at disonij@aol.com with Guest Blogger in the subject line.

Love to hear from you.

Charlene

A Rose By Any Other Name -- Serialized Novel

Thu, 22 May 2008 04:12:07 GMT

A Rose By Any Other Name - Serialized Novel

A Serial Story

I am writing a serialized novel. You can catch the serial at http://www.charleneleatherman.blogspot.com/
Here is the first installment. For the rest of the story, stop by my blog or stop by www.myspace.com/charleneleatherman. You can also find the serial here.
Title
A Rose By Any Other Name
“I hear you. I hear you,” Zna slammed her hand onto the annoying alarm.“Zna Menita, hunt commences in 45 ticks. Report to hunt initiation site in 45 ticks.”Zna grit her teeth against a growl rising in her throat. She hated the mechanical voice that nagged at her every time she was scheduled for a hunt.
And she was scheduled almost every day. By her choice. But still, it was tiring and irritating to hear the computerized voice call out her name.Zna stepped from her bed and into the shower. Water was scarce on Dyad. Zna couldn’t remember when she last had a water bath. Pressing the button to start the cleansing cycle, Zna let the sonic pulses tap over her body. The sound waves were at a range she could not hear. The waves pushed dirt, sweat, dead skin off her body and left her fur silky smooth and shining. She twitched her ears and wiggled her whiskers. The sonic pulses tickled. She heard the computerized voice calling her again. Flicking her tail, Zna punched the off switch and went to her closet. She pulled out a skin-tight jumpsuit. It fit her like a glove, and moved with her. It did not hinder her in any way. It was the perfect outfit to wear for a hunt.She liked at her image in the mirror. She was desired in the hunt. Her curvaceous body was covered with the tawny colored fur of the lionesses. Her hip-length red hair framed her face and the pert ears that sat on top of her head. Her whiskers were sensitive and strong. The claws on her hands were sharp and retractable. Likewise she had human feet instead of the clawed feet of the less desirable lionesses.

Zna slipped the tools of the hunt into specially made pockets in her suit. A small compact phaser. It was set always on stun. It was the desire of the Ministry that lionesses have an equal chance against the hunters, not kill them. A knife that would slice through metal. Her claws were effective against cloth, flesh, wood, and most other substances other than metal. Some hunters used metal nets to trap lionesses. The knife gave the lionesses equal footing. The whole idea of the hunt was not only to give the hunters access to the best of the lionesses as mates, but to give the Viewers a show.

Zna sighed. She had run and won seventeen hunts. Each hunt she won gave her greater prestige, kept her out of the mating market, and kept her daughter safe. She had to win.

If she lost her daughter would lose her life. She only had to complete three more hunts to win her daughter’s freedom.

“Zna Menita, please report to the hunt staging area,” the mechanical voice intoned.

Zna took another deep breath.

Only three more.
Charlene Leatherman
Author of Adventurous Romances
If you would prefer your picture is not posted on this blog, please contact me at www.disonij@aol.com and I will take the picture down.

Another New Beginning, A Serial Story, And a Guest Author

Fri, 16 May 2008 02:59:27 GMT

Another New Beginning, A Serial Story And a Guest Author

A Serial Story
I blog sporadically. You've probably noticed.I am always at a loss of what to blog about. So I end up blogging about Invisible Space Alien Vampires (see Wednesday, May 14 on GoddessesofStorytelling.blogspot.com)I decided to start a Serial. Whenever I blog I will write the next installment. This serial will be written off the cuff, so I have no idea where it will go. You will find out as I do. I will let the Characters write the story.Now, since I wrote about cats yesterday, I decided to develop a story about a moon in the thirteen planet system called Dyad. If you have read Prophecy of Vithan and/or Stone of Cruento you know that there is a Twin Planet System in which there is two planets Dkr and Sonij encircled with thirteen moons. Each moon has its own ecosystem, its own type of inhabitant based on different animals and mythic creatures.

Dyad is a moon based on the lion. The Spirit is named Leana. She is a lion-headed woman holding an onyx staff. The heroine's name is Zna Menita. The hero's name is Lovac.That is all I am going to tell you tonight. Stop by for the next installment tomorrow.

If you haven't read Prophecy of Vithan or Stone of Cruento you can go here to purchase your copy. Simply click on the cover picture of the book you want to purchase.

Today’s Guest Author is Anita Birt.
Anita Birt writer, avid reader, knitter lives on Vancouver Island with her husband, three African violets, a Christmas cactus that never blooms at Christmas and a demanding computer that sulks when neglected.

For Anita, writing romance novels is like having a love affair with words. Characters emerge. Plots develop. Crises erupt. Her historical stories are set in England, Scotland and Wales, countries she knows well.

Isabelle’s Diary available at Cerridwen Press
Blurb for Isabelle's Diary

On a sunny June morning in Llandrindod Wells, Sally Carter stops for coffee at the Celtic Café. She notices a beautiful young woman dressed in somber Victorian black sitting at a window table weeping over the pages of a diary. When the girl disappears without a trace and the waitress insists the table had been vacant all morning, Sally is compelled to discover the girl’s identity.

Unraveling the mystery leads Sally on a wild goose chase with the assistance of Dr. Dan Conway, a handsome Welsh history professor. But it’s not until she returns home to Toronto that the final pieces of the puzzle fall into place.

Even then the question lingers. Why was Sally the only person to see the girl?

Excerpt from ISABELLE'S DIARY, a contemporary romance by Anita Birt

Sally was brushing her teeth when the phone rang. Spitting out foaming toothpaste, she rinsed her mouth and dashed to answer it.
“Dan Conway, Ms Carter. Are you free this afternoon?"
“Sure, any time you are.”
“I’ll be there in ten minutes. Where shall I meet you?”
“In the lobby.” Before leaving the bedroom she scanned her reflection in the bathroom mirror and hoped the dear old professor wouldn’t be shocked at her short shorts and clingy T-shirt. After sending her hiking clothes to the hotel laundry, her wardrobe choices were limited. She had one summer dress, too pretty to waste on detective work.
She freshened her lipstick, picked up her handbag with her notes, hurried downstairs and dropped into a chair facing the entrance. He arrived within five minutes looking very professorish. About five eight, slightly stooped, gray hair, thick glasses perched on the end of his nose. Sally hurried over to greet him.
“Dr. Conway, thank you for coming.”
The man backed away. A worried frown creased his brow. “Oh dear me, you’ve made a mistake. I’m looking for my wife. She’s supposed to meet me here.”
“Ms Carter?”
Sally recognized the voice and whirled around. Momentarily speechless, she stared at Dr. Conway. A solid six foot and then some with broad shoulders, a strong, well-muscled neck and dark brown curly hair. He was handsome in a rugged kind of way, more like a street fighter than a history prof. The sleeves of his faded blue denim shirt were rolled up to his elbows. He had a sports watch on his left wrist.
Sally pulled herself together, smiled and held out her hand. “Dr. Conway, I presume? I’ve frightened that elderly gentleman. I mistook him for you.”
“Please drop the doctor, I’m Dan.”
Humor lurked in his green eyes. He held her hand for a few seconds and the earth moved under Sally’s feet. Unreal.
She withdrew her hand and dropped her gaze to the safety of his denim shirt. His touch had triggered an aftershock, probably from surprise when she’d expected a musty old professor.
“I’m Sally. I hope I haven’t dragged you here on a wild goose chase.”
“Not at all, your story interests me.”
His matter-of-fact comment reassured her. “I’ve made some notes,” she said. “Let’s sit in the garden behind the hotel. It’s pretty back there.”
In her sexually deprived condition Dan was too overpowering male for her to cope with but he’d changed his plans to accommodate her. She could hardly fall ill, plead a headache and retreat to her room. That would be cowardly, but two years as a single woman had made her wary of men’s intentions. Dan Conway wasn’t on trial. Not yet. Depended on whether he kept his hands to himself while they solved the mystery of the girl in the café.
All the same she wished she hadn’t sent her loose cotton shirts and jeans to the hotel laundry. Her navy shorts were too short and her white T-shirt hugged her breasts leaving nothing to the imagination. Maybe he wouldn’t notice.
She dug into her shoulder bag for the notes as she walked ahead of him through the lobby and on to the patio.
Happily ambushed by this attractive woman, Dan admired her sensational tanned legs. By the time they reached the garden and sat at a glass topped wicker table, he hoped they’d spend days together searching for the mysterious girl.
Maybe a night or two?
He dismissed that thought as unworthy; interesting but unworthy. For the few seconds he’d held her hand and gazed into her eyes a spark had crackled between them. Meaning what?
Male desiring female? Female desiring male?
Forget it. She’d quickly looked away and almost snatched her hand from his but he couldn’t be shot for thinking.
Like a student arranging an essay in front of a critical professor, she smoothed out sheets of hotel paper on the table.
“I hope my notes are coherent. I still can’t make sense of what happened yesterday. It’s still not clear to me whether I was dreaming in the café or really saw the girl.”
Dan picked up the papers and began reading as a group of noisy hotel guests strolled out on the patio and seemed to be settling in for an afternoon of drinking.
He folded the notes and gave them to Sally. “Let’s go across to the park. It’ll be quiet there and cool under the trees. We can go to the café later for a coffee.”
Out on the street he grasped her elbow and hustled her safely across the road to the park. The feel of her cool skin against his bare arm distracted him into thinking more unworthy thoughts.

Too Young To Die Contest

Wed, 07 May 2008 03:35:30 GMT

Too Young To Die Contest

A friend of mine, Anita Birt, is having a contest. The prize is a copy of her ebook

Too Young To Die. To enter you have to answer a question that is posed in her blog at http://www.anitabirtstoryteller.blogspot.com/

Stone of Cruento

Sat, 03 May 2008 01:19:28 GMT

Stone of Cruento

Stone of Cruento is available at CerridwenPress.

You can read Stone of Cruento on an Amazon Kindle.

Cerridwen Press has some information about the Amazon Kindle here.

I have a cover for Stone of Cruento

Wed, 30 Apr 2008 23:02:23 GMT

I was really worried if they would be able to come up with a cover since a centaur vampiress having a menage with an ogre, a vampire, and a centaur was kind of difficult to imagine. But they did it! I am so jazzed!!!
Stone of Cruento is available from Cerridwen Press (www.cerridwenpress.com) on May 1.

My computer is acting up so I can't get the cover image to post. But you can go to www.myspace.com/charleneleatherman or www.charleneleatherman.blogspot.com to see the wonderful cover.

Guess What Happens in 3 Days?

Tue, 29 Apr 2008 02:16:55 GMT

Guess What Happens in 3 Days?
Current mood: jubilant
Category: Writing and Poetry

Stone of Cruento comes out.

CataUniversity at http://catauniversity.com/?p=126 is holding its very first

Novella in a Month - a challenge of writing 25,000 words in the month of May.

I have entered. So I will be blogging about Stone of Cruento and about my progress in the NIAM (initials are mine) Novella In A Month by CataUniversity. Lots of authors will be doing the challenge with me. You should stop by their site and see who is writing up a storm.

What if you were the artist?

Sat, 26 Apr 2008 00:31:39 GMT

What if you were the artist?

Imagine if you will, you are the artist given the job of designing a cover for Stone of Cruento. You have to create a cover that represents the story line. One that shows the potential reader something about the heroine and the world she exists in.

Now, try to imagine what you would design to picture this:

Claren is a young woman who has grown up as a normal Earth girl. You know, boyfriends, college, a good career, a lover and prospects of marriage. Then she is bitten by a vampire, but she coesn't become a normal vampire. She can go out in the daylight, although she does burn badly. She can eat garlic, go to church, and has no problem with crosses or holy water. She can eat regular food but it is blood that sustains her. She is stronger than humans and has many of the "normal" attributes of the real vampires. She is guarded by an ogre.

Then she discovers that she is from another planet. And she has been sired by centaurs. In fact, she is a centaur.

Now as the artist, how do you convey that?

Well, that is what I have put the artists of Cerridwen Press through. Stone of Cruento is on the Coming Soon page, but with only a place holder. The artists are still struggling with the concept of a vampire centaur from Earth. Whatever they come up with, I am sure it will be phenomenal. After all considering the fantastic cover they designed for Prophecy of Vithan, how could I doubt their talents?

Adventure

Thu, 24 Apr 2008 23:14:11 GMT

April 24

Adventure

Genreflecting.com defines Adventure in this way:

What Is Adventure/Suspense Fiction?
Lusty spies; deadly plagues; courtroom intrigue; fanatical terrorists; murderous psychopaths; state-of-the-art

weaponry; destructive acts of nature; political conspiracies; evil Nazis; Russian crime kingpins, and international drug cartels are but a few examples of the elements that can be found in this genre. Oftentimes lumped under the catch-all label of thrillers, It is hard to precisely define adventure/suspense as authors often combine situations from other genres such as mystery, horror, science-fiction, and even romance. Although an eclectic mix, all adventure/suspense novels have a few basic commonalties.

The characters (and the reader) can always expect the worst - the main characters can,and usually do, have everything thrown at them. Action, action and more action are hallmarks of a good adventure/suspense book.

The entire read is a roller coaster ride of chills and excitement with the last stop (and page) not always ending in

happiness. And finally, there must be a villain, for without a foe…without an adversary, there can be no adventure…no suspense.

Know how I define it? Danger Zone Authors! Be sure to come for the Launch on May 11. You will meet authors who write the kind of books Genreflecting.com is talking about.

Danger Zone Authors

Tue, 22 Apr 2008 01:23:08 GMT

Danger Zone Authors launches on May 11.
I will be the first blogger on Sunday and will blog each Sunday after that. www.dangerzoneauthors.com

The Site is a site dedicated to action and adventure writers. Some write romance as I do, some write mystery, science fiction, thrillers, horror. There is something for everyone. The Danger Zone Authors will be a different kind of site. There is no other place on the Internet that speaks to action and adveture.

Come by, read a blog while you are jogging on your treadmill. Buy a book to read while your take some me time. I can guarantee the books will get your heart racing.

Here are the authors you can expect to find there in alphabetical order.
Danger Zone Authors

Denise Agnew
Cyndi Friberg
Lise Fuller
TL Gray
N.D. Hansen Hill
Marianne LaCroix
Charlene Leatherman
Shelley Munro

Was today a good day?

Sun, 13 Apr 2008 04:05:36 GMT

Today I finished the cleaning of the yard. this evening I had to make a cake for a goodbye party we are having for a friend who is moving away. I am not the best of cooks, in fact, when I suggest that I cook for my sons, they take me out to dinner. My hubby used to say that I made great cajun water - in other words I burned water really well. So anyway, I was making this package cake. No problem. Baked fine, perfect in fact. Then its time to put the frosting on. I am tired and not thinking clearly so I start frosting the cake. Its a two layer 13 in x 9 in oblong cake. First layer frosted just fine. Second layer frosting goes on. The cake splits down the middle and both sides are sliding off the edges. White frosting all over everything.
I hollar for help. Aunt Charlene (90 years old) comes hobbling back into the kitchen. She says she was tempted to call 911 cause she thought I had burned myself or fallen and broke a leg. (that kind of emergency is normal around here with Ken a quadriplegic and Charlene falling and breaking bones) She comes into the kitchen and sees this cake escaping off the counter and me all covered in white frosting. She starts laughing so hard I thought she was going to fall down. I grab her. Now she is covered with frosting. We both are laughing so hard we cry.

The result? The broken, cracked up mutilated cake has a sign on it that says "We are all broken up about Bobby leaving."

I guess today was okay after all.

Sat, 12 Apr 2008 01:55:23 GMT

If you want to see a cute picture about Friday go to www.myspace.com/charleneleatherman.