Wednesday, October 29, 2014


How is it the end of October already? I mean, we're only two months away from Christmas and the 2015! Wasn't it just August? Sigh. Anyway, this week is all about Halloween traditions. And well, I'm sad to say, most of the traditions for Halloween have slowly faded as the kids have gotten older and time... well, time sees so much more limited.

For instance, this Halloween, my youngest, Sydney, is the only one dressing up, and she's just going to hang with some friends. Not going around our neighbourhood. Just...hanging at a friend's house. The boys? Well, the Jared will most likely be playing his new Assassin's Creed game and my oldest, Kyle, is actually working. He's officiating a Junior B game up island, so I'll probably be there watching him...being a proud mom.

Though we will still carve a pumpkin. Sys will do that. And there will be candy. Not sure how much will make it all the way until Friday, but...some will. But living in a small neighbourhood, we don't get that many kids.

About the only thing we'll still do is watch a few Halloween movies....some of the uber bad original Halloween ones, Charlie Brown ~ Great Pumpkin, Hocus Pocus... that sort of thing.

Once upon a time…we'd go to the farm and pick out a pumpkin for all. We'd spend hours carving them, often using those special carving tools to make the fancy ones. We'd decorate the house, inside and out. Ghosts in the trees, skulls on the porch. I also once made a fence with a crow on it out of black construction paper so it looked like a shadow scene. Alas, I'm not even sure it made the move.

The only holiday we really celebrate now is Christmas. Lights outside, we cut our own tree. But somewhere along the line, we just decided that we weren't really into the commercial aspects of the holidays. Even Christmas is getting crazy. My dream is just to go away...head out for isolated family time. Maybe this year we'll just drive down to Mexico and sit on a beach.

So, yeah, I don't have any real traditions to share. We've fallen off the holiday band wagon. But I will share a few pics from Halloween's past.

Check out the other ladies. I bet they still have the ghostly spirit.

Bronwyn Green
Jessica Jarman
Gwendolyn Cease
Kellie St. James

Wednesday, October 22, 2014

Who ya gonna call…


A classic movie and the backdrop for this week's Wednesday Random Post. The ladies have chosen— Do you believe in ghosts? Um, hello... I got the Travel and Escape channel just so I could watch Ghost Adventures! I love that show. The concept and the guys are pretty fun to watch. I also like how there is science involved. Of course, at the end of the day, believing in ghosts is something you either choose to do or don't. But I still love the show.

So...have I ever had any had any ghostly encounters?

Okay... so before I moved out west from Toronto, I lived in this old house just north of the city. And I swear to you, that place was freaking haunted. Yes, I know. I can't say that I really believed in them that strongly before, but damn, after a year in that place, I changed my mind.

Now there were a number of incidents—besides the fact that my dog absolutely hated being there alone. And no, the dog didn't freak out other places alone, just this house. I'm talking other, more concrete occurrences. Things would end up in different places. Pictures would be flipped on the wall. Creepy things like that. And I suppose you could say...well, it's just someone playing a prank. Because I did live with two roommates. So yes, I didn't take it all to heart, until one day.

Set the scene.

At this point, I was living with just one other friend. A great guy named Billy. We were both helicopter pilots. I was working for Air Ambulance and he was working for another company out of a nearby airport. So I worked shift work. I'd maybe see Billy a few hours in passing, but that was it.

One day, I was home after working the night shift. As you can imagine, it was a bit hard to unwind after a shift, and it must have been around ten AM. I'd just gone upstairs to bed. Dog was with me. She starts huffing, and I hear the back screen door open and slam shut. This is followed by voices. Loud enough I can hear them—there was definitely a male talking—but I can't make out all the words.

This continues to the point I wonder if Billy knows I'm home. I didn't care about the noise, just really wanted him to know I was there so I didn't surprise him. So...I get up and go to the top of the stairs (this is a small house, people) and I yell down... "Hey, Billy. Just letting you know I'm upstairs."

I wait, expecting him to yell up, but nothing. After a minute I go downstairs and there's no one there. Not a freaking soul. And... the back screen door is locked by one of those stupid hook locks. Mostly because it would sometimes bang during a strong wind.

And I know...maybe he just left. Oh nah nah, people. He was gone all that day on a flight up north. So he couldn't have come home.

After that...yeah, I've looked at things slightly different. I've had other, more removed encounters but that...that was something else. Obviously something I'll never forget.

So yes, I do believe in ghosts. And this is exactly why I wrote the series BETWEEN THE VIELS. Four stories about different ghostly encounters, and I have to say... I loved writing them. Of course, I didn't have a handsome sexy guy like one of the Smith boys ride to the rescue, lol...

After all, science says energy can't be created nor destroyed, merely changed. And I honestly believe that when we die, it's a change in energy. At least, that's what I'm hoping ;)

Now go check out the other ladies and see their take on the eternal question of ghostly apparitions.

Bronwyn Green
Jessica Jarman
Gwendolyn Cease

Monday, October 20, 2014

RICOCHET ~ It's finally here!

OMG... Seriously, I'm totally stoked. Today is RELEASE DAY for my very first ever Self-Published book ~ RICOCHET. And it seems only fitting that my first solo project like this revisits my roots in Suspense/Thriller. Here's a bit about it...


And other stores worldwide...


A moment he cant take back…

An unlucky rebound has left US Marshal Ashton Kane broken. His partners dead and, consumed by guilt, hes walked out on the only woman hell ever love.

A love she cant forget

Cassidy Ryan has tried to move on. Losing the love of her life cut deep, but she vowed she wouldnt let it break her. And shes finally taking back her life—until she stumbles upon a deadly encounter that threatens to destroy everything and everyone around her.

One last chance at redemption…

Ash has fooled himself into believing Cassidys better off without him—until she puts her life on the line, forcing him to face the demons that still whisper in the dark, or risk losing her. Again. Only this time, itll be no ones fault, but his.


Seattle, two years ago…

Ashton Kane faced the casket, feet braced apart, hands fisted together behind his back. Voices murmured around him, the constant rise and fall scratching at his consciousness. He stared directly ahead, looking through the crowd toward the other side of the graveyard. Mist curled over the distant hill, creeping amidst the rows of crosses, slowly blanketing the gravesite in a numbing gray. He shifted his focus when a line of officers raised their weapons, preparing for the instant the rifles would fire. The one moment he couldn’t block out.
The reports echoed across the cemetery, scattering a flock of birds. Cackling squawks faded as the low vibrations roiled through the air, settling like stones in his gut. Tendrils of smoke swirled upwards, the smell of sulfur heavy in the light breeze. Memories flashed through his mind, the images cloaked in black and white—the pop of gunfire, the clatter of footsteps. They played in an unrelenting stream of sound and disjointed pictures, all culminating into one singular truth.
His gun.
His bullet.
His fault.
He closed his eyes, willing the voices in his head to stop, to leave him the fuck alone. He’d already lost his partner, his sanity. What more could they possibly want? What amount of guilt and self-loathing would be enough to quiet them?
A gentle touch along his shoulder jerked him back, and he looked to his left, glancing at the woman standing beside him, her face blurring in and out of focus as the memories shuffled, Ben’s dull eyes still staring at him from the darkness. He wanted to hold her gaze, knowing it was expected, but he broke eye contact, wishing he could fade like the pictures inside his head.
Cassidy’s sighed, the shaky sound only increasing the guilt threatening to pull him under. “It’s time to go. They’ll be expecting us at his parents’ house.”
Ash nodded, glancing back at the grave, watching the coffin as it disappeared into the ground, nothing but a hollow thud whispering through the air. He clenched his teeth, willing Ben’s voice out of his head, choking back the bitter taste in his mouth as the scent of blood smothered his senses. It wasn’t real. None of it. Just his imagination playing with his mind. Twisting the events until he barely remembered which parts had actually happened.
Not like the lingering cry of Ben’s mother—the memory of her screaming when he’d informed her that her son had been killed. The feel of her fingers cinched around his wrists, her weight—dead like her son—hanging limp in his arms. Those were real. Those gnawed at him. Clawed at what little remained of his sanity. Pounded through his head like a damn battering ram.
“Ash? You okay?”
He forced himself to turn, to meet Cassidy’s gaze and hold it this time. Blue eyes surrounded by creamy smooth skin. He couldn’t remember if he’d even looked directly at her since the raid. Since the part of him that made him Ash—made him worthy of her love, worthy of fucking living—had died. Gotten misdirected like that damn bullet, leaving nothing but pain and chaos behind. She was just as beautiful. Just as pure as when he’d first met her.
He’d taint that. Turn it into something ugly. Something she’d want to hide.
She frowned, scanning the empty site. “It’s okay. I’ll explain it to the Director. It’s too soon. We’ll drop by once things have settled.” She touched his arm, only to draw back her hand when his muscles clenched beneath her fingers. “I’ll give you a few moments. Meet me at the car.” She turned, taking a few hesitant steps away before twisting to gaze at him. “As long as you need. I’ll wait.”
He watched her walk away, her boots leaving small impressions on the wet grass. It must have rained, though he couldn’t seem to remember. The weather. If he’d bothered to eat. What day it was.
Judgment day.
Ash swallowed past the lump in his throat. He should leave. Walk away. Take Cassidy home and make love to her until the memories vanished. Until the haunting rasp of Ben’s voice and his partner’s vacant stare faded into the press of her body beneath his. Until her soft, wet heat surrounded him, healing him.
It was a ricochet, Ash. One fucked-up bounce. No way you could have known…
“Shut up. Just shut the fuck up!”
He pressed his hands against his temples. Excuses. Lies. He was to blame. He’d given the orders, told Ben to secure the rear exit. If Ash had just done the damn job himself…
He turned on his heels, heading for the red Jeep parked near the end of the lane. He could see her brown hair through the window. The way it cascaded across her shoulders, the muted light highlighting the golden streaks in it. He clenched his fists. He could still feel the ghosted caress of the silky strands across his skin as he gathered them in his hands, holding the mass back as she moved above him. Sweat-slicked flesh gleaming in the moonlight. Her back arched, head thrown back as she pulsed around him, making him feel alive. Deserving.
He hadn’t so much as kissed her this past week. Had barely been able to bring himself to be in the same room with her. She’d tried talking to him then had left him to his thoughts, always reminding him she was there. That she’d always be there. That she’d wait.
He walked woodenly to the car, opening the door then sliding in. He didn’t turn to meet the gaze he felt centered on him, choosing to stare straight ahead as he turned the key, letting the hum of the engine fill his head. He glanced over his shoulder, pulling into the lane, refusing to look at the grave in the rear-view mirror. He’d made his choice. He just didn’t know if he could live with it.
* * * *
“He’s gone, Ash. You can stop.”
Ash shrugged the hand off his shoulder, pressing on Ben’s chest, counting out sets of five before pausing to breathe into the man’s mouth. “Where the hell are the paramedics?”
“He’s not dead. Fuck that.” He kept pushing, kept breathing. “He wasn’t even in the line of fire.” He brushed sweat out of his eyes. “Come on, buddy. Breathe for me. Just fucking breathe.”

Ash bolted awake, arms thrashing, heart pounding. Images wavered in the darkness as Ben’s voice played in his head, the accusing tone grating on his nerves. Ash closed his eyes, focusing on drawing air in, then pushing it out, shaking his hands against the remembered feel of his gun. His skin felt tight, as if he were inside someone else’s body, fighting to get out. The lights flicked on a moment before the couch dipped beside him. He closed his eyes, mentally telling her not to touch him. Not to make him feel.
She kept her distance, a rough sigh sounding beside him. “Here. This might help.”
Somehow he managed to pry open his eyelids, staring at her outstretched hand. The brown liquid shimmered in the light, reflecting the pattern of wood on the ceiling.
He took the glass, tensing when his hand brushed hers, feeling his heart beat faster at the brief contact. Hell, just knowing she was only a foot away, her breath softly blowing across him, made him want to crawl out of his skin. Leave that man, those thoughts, behind.
He downed the shot, letting the warm liquid burn away the pain. But it wouldn’t last. Wouldn’t do more than mock the memories that lingered just beneath the surface. A temporary reprieve that would make the next round more vivid. More real.
Cassidy reached for the cup, allowing him to drop it into her hand. He didn’t miss the way her fingers trembled, nervously caressing the glass as if being this close to him frightened her. It should. It frightened him.
Another sigh passed her lips as she stared at him, the weight of her gaze making his muscles twitch. He held his breath, finally shifting his focus, cursing at the tears pooling in her eyes. It gutted him. Tore at whatever piece of himself still remained.
She waited until she seemed certain he wouldn’t look away. “They’re getting worse. You can’t even sleep for more than an hour without screaming. We can’t live like this, Ash.” She pushed her hand through her hair, tousling it about her head. “You need help. We need help.”
He gained his feet, crossing the room, needing the distance just to fucking breathe. The air felt too heavy. Too weighed down by her expectations, her needs. He stared out the window, watching the rain dot the glass, distorting the streetlights gleaming on the road.
“Ash. Please. I’m not going to tell you that I know how you feel. I wouldn’t insult you like that, but damn it…” She padded to the center of the room. “You can’t even look at me. I feel as if I’ve already lost you, and you’re standing five feet away.”
His chin bowed toward his chest, the truth of her statement hitting him hard. “I’m dealing.”
“You’re dealing?” Her voice rose in pitch, tears muffling some of the syllables. “How are you dealing, exactly? By pushing everyone away? By retreating so far inside yourself all you can see is the darkness? The pain?” More footsteps were followed by her hand on his arm. “Ben’s dead—”
“Because of me!” He spun, breaking her hold. “Ben is dead because of me. Because of the choices I made. Those are the facts.”
“The damn bullet ricocheted. It hit that fugitive’s skull and veered off. It wasn’t your fault. It was a freak accident. They’ve already cleared you—”
“You think I give a shit whether the Marshal Service clears me? Whether they deem it a clean hit? Justified? I killed my fucking partner, Cass. No one and nothing can clear me of that.”
She moved in front of him when he tried to push past her. “Don’t. Don’t walk out on this. I get that Ben’s death has killed something inside you. I know you’re hurting. But don’t shut me out. I’ve given you space. Waited for you to come to me. But you won’t talk to me let alone touch me.” She brushed at the tears that washed down her cheeks. Cursing. “I could have lost you. Do you know how many times I’ve died inside picturing that? Please. Baby. Let me help you.”
She reached for him, a gentle caress of her fingers along his arm. He clenched his jaw, closing his eyes as he fought not to jerk away. To give her just a small measure of what he knew she needed. She waited, seemingly judging his response until he looked at her again. Those blue eyes pleaded with him as she smoothed her hand along his forearm, stepping forward, her body slowly pressing against his.
His chest heaved, his lungs refusing to open, to draw in any significant amount of air. Panic crawled just beneath his skin, lurking. Waiting for him to weaken. Her scent surrounded him, the warm, sweet essence like a slap to his face. He didn’t deserve this. The forgiveness. The love.
Her head rested against his shoulder, her hands palming his ribs. Tears stung his eyes, the steady beat of her heart drawing him under. He didn’t resist when she led him down the hall, taking him into their bedroom. The bed shifted beneath him as he fell onto it, her body spooning into his. He stared at the ceiling, feeling her slowly give herself over to sleep. His gut clenched, the images taunting him from the shadows, and he knew he’d never be free.

I hope you enjoy reading this book as much as I did writing it. I can honestly say it's one of the best books I've written to date, and, I simply am in love with it. You can download the first few chapters from Smashwords if you'd like it to give it a go.

Wednesday, October 15, 2014

He loves me…he loves me not…

Okay, you all know what day it is. Why do I always write that it's Wednesday? Pretty sure you're all savvy enough to know that without me announcing it. But…I'm a giver.

So, this week's random post is... drum roll please... Fictional Characters I Crush on. the ladies who choose these topics know my time is limited and if I post all the pictures of Keanu or Matthew that I might just get arrested? Seriously, it could definitely be a form of virtual stalking...

So, for the sake of not having my ass tossed in jail, I'll keep this to the top few male characters that I wished would swoop down and carry me off to the sunset, just like those old westerns. And in no particular order...

Dr. Spencer Reid.

Please, this is no surprise. He was on my crush list and well, damn, there isn't any part of that character that doesn't send my heart a fluttering. I think it's his intelligence and the naiveté that touches my heart, He's so damn smart but so socially awkward. Let me tell you, I've written a bunch of fan fic with him as the hero in my head. Hard not too, those eyes, that hair. I love his long hair. And he's a federal agent to boot. Damn... just damn.


You knew Keanu was popping up somewhere. Face it. And while yeah, Neo is amazing, and there are endless characters I could chose from, Constantine is my favourite. He's tormented. Not quite good but not evil. He's stuck between the two, trying to save his own ass, but with enough moral high ground to also do the right thing when called upon. And watching him fight demons…yeah. How is that not something a girl takes to heart.

And I realize there's a new TV series starting up...but it's just not the same.

Sam Winchester

Unlike most of my friends, who are misguided souls and seem to have this odd attraction for Dean, Sam Winchester is by far, my brother of choice. Damn, those eyes, and again, that hair. The wounded soul, the reluctant hero. Sure, he's not the bad boy Dean is...not iconic that way, but there's just something about his character. His sense of humour, skill at killing all things paranormal. Yup, he's definitely a fictional crush.

I wonder how celebrities feel about knowing folks crush on their characters? Is it flattering, creepy or do they think.. hey, what about the real me?

So there are a few others I could list. But I'll narrow it down to two final characters...keep this like a top five...Cullen Buchanan

Hell on Wheels. Another wounded soul. Another man who does the right thing but damn, get in his way and he's just as likely to kill you as offer you a hand. He's tough and you can't help but want to soothe the burden. Another fan fic book in my head. And I even have songs to go with it.
Finally, Jason Bourne. 
Need I say anything about him. No, I don't think explanation is required. Just a few pictures...

So that's it for me. My top five crushes. Sure, I've crushed on others....Luke Duke, Indiana Jones, Sherlock Holmes (Robert Downey Jr version), Daniel from Stargate, McGyver (hell yes) and Ichabod Crane... my god that man is easy on the eyes... 

but this post can't go on forever, people. So go check out the other ladies and see if any match... I'm thinking not so much. I seem to have very different tastes...

Wednesday, October 8, 2014

My precious…

I'm not sure why I always seem so surprised when Wednesday seems to pop around again. It's not like it changes from week to week. Yet, I'm still in shock when I realize it's Tuesday and time to write another Wednesday random blog.

So this week, the lovely ladies have chosen—Collections.

Originally, I was thinking…okay. Easy post. I don't collect things, so post over! But I guess I have some stuff that sort of counts as collections. But nothing like I know some of the other ladies do.

Anyway, collections. I guess it's in human nature to collect crap. I have started a few collections, but alas, haven't really followed through. I began collecting cute cookie jars. I have a couple of Christmas ones, one that looks like a bird house, and two that just have cookie inscribed on the side. But my favourite one—that I don't use because it's small—is a blue car. It looks just like a VW bug, lol. But then I decided I didn't really have room to collect these, so I stopped. Now, I have them on a shelving unit as pretty decorations.

I had started collecting some rocks, but then I moved—as in two weeks ago moved. And those rocks...yeah, they weren't getting carted around. In case you hadn't realized it, rocks are heavy. And the last thing you want to move are a bunch of rocks you could have gotten out of your backyard. So that collection is still in the yard at the old house;)

The only real collection I have I inherited. My mother used to collect elephants. And I mean the woman collected them. My daughter, Syd, now has the collection in her room in a curio cabinet that came with the elephants after my mother died. And wow, there must be over a hundred different creatures inside. Some are porcelain, some made out of shells. She even has some made from bone. I think she has one of the smallest, hand-carved elephants ever made. It was her passion.

I have yet to really get that passion over anything. I mean, I collect my books, lol. And I'll admit…I didn't give up my Stephen King books when I moved, but to me, a collection is something you have to add to. That fills some hidden space inside. I just don't have that, yet.

Hmmm, maybe I can collect cute men? I'd be into that. Hell, yeah. So if any of you have one to spare...

Okay, a lame post but there you have it. Please go check out the other gals and see what kinds of collections they have. They probably have real ones.

Bronwyn Green
Jessica Jarman
Gwendolyn Cease

Sunday, October 5, 2014

COVER REVEAL ~ MATED By Gwendolyn Cease

by Gwendolyn Cease
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Tour Organizer: N K Author Services

Laira Marshall had to admit—getting kidnapped wasn’t something she’d expected. Discovering her kidnappers were aliens who planned on selling her into sexual slavery, definitely tipped the scales into the truly bizarre. But she’s determined to fight her way through this—until their slave ship is attacked, and Laira’s faced with an entirely new problem.

Rakin and Dev were the leaders of the Sandaki—a race genetically engineered to fight. Using their enhanced traits, they’ve freed their people and have devoted their lives to seeking out those who enslaved them. They never considered the concept of love—or that one woman could bring them to their knees.

With unknown enemies working against them, the three lovers must come together not only to save themselves, but the Sandaki race itself.

Gwendolyn Cease has been writing ever since she was old enough to pick up a pen. From the very beginning, her stories involved handsome heroes, tough heroines, and happily ever after. Even as she slogged through two undergraduate degrees and a master’s in education, writing remained top priority. Though she now works full-time as a history museum educator, she still makes time for her characters and their never-ending adventures.

Currently, Gwendolyn lives in Kentucky with her incredibly spoiled cats. If you’d like to contact her, she’d love to hear from you. She loves to hear from anyone who enjoys a good book, especially the ones she’s written. You can email her at