I must admit, when I was tagged for the meme from Deb, I cringed. “Oh, no, not one of these things.” But, I have to say, I really enjoyed the process. It brought back fond memories of the books of my childhood and young adulthood, and I have every intention of revisiting a few of them. So thank you, Deb.

Writing secrets:

I failed creative writing in high school
But redeemed myself many years later in college

My very first peek into sexy writing was the cartoon magazine/book Little Annie Fanny (I found it quite by mistake and while shocked I couldn’t help but turn the pages)

My very first love story read was The Wolf and The Dove by Katherine Woodiwiss, my second The Flame and The Flower, my third Sweet Savage Love by Rosemary Rodgers, and so the love affair began

I read GWTWas a teenager and thought it was ok, I read it again years later and got it, Scarlet is my all time hero, hands down.

I read Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mocking Bird for the first time last year. Scout is well, Scout and destined to be a great southern lady, Atticus Finch is a great man

I read Lady Chatterley’s lover in the ninth grade. I was duly shocked and riveted

I loved Buck in Call of the Wild, and Hermie in The Summer of ’42.

Of my four children, only one reads, my husband is a sporadic reader (and never reads what I write—his choice)

My favorite place to go is Barnes and Noble, they have a Starbucks, comfy sofas and books, does it get any better?

Watchers by Dean Koontz was the first book by him I read and still my favorite.

Here’s a bonus secret: I have absolutely no problem throwing a book against the wall and leaving it there to die a slow death if it fails to capture me, after all, there other good books clamoring for my attention, and I certainly don’t want to disappoint.

Hmm, so now it’s my turn to tag three people. Bwahahahahahahah
OK:
Sharon Long
Edie Ramer
Kate Douglas

As I write, I often ask myself several times during the story the age old question: to kill or not to kill? I discovered something quite interesting along my writer’s journey. When I need to shake things up, I kill someone. I mean what other sure fire means can you use to muster characters who are headed for a lull? Or to boost that sagging middle? Death brings out the best and worst in people, and I find it can kick stat my creative juices as I’m cruising along wondering what the hell I’m going to write next. Murder I write, and murder shakes everything up and I never know where the dust is going to settle. I like throwing my characters into the lions den so to speak, and see how they react. Sometimes they really surprise me, and sometimes, another diabolical mind emerges.
Who to kill? With the exception of the h/h in romance, everyone is expendable. It’s the same in life, but more so because even the h/h are vulnerable to attack. Yes, everyone is expendable, and it’s amazing to me to watch what happens when a character bites the big one, and goes on to happy hunting grounds. I like throwing wrenches at my characters, I like stirring up the plot with a stiff. My motto is, “When in doubt knock someone off.” Some writers take the when-in-doubt-make-them-have-sex road. Not me. While I do write a hot story the sex can’t be forced. But murder can. Death can be a red herring, another plot twist or just a freak of nature, but what it does is shake things up and force characters to react. Reaction equals action, action is good and usually forces the characters to move outside of their comfort zone and therefore grow. And here we come full circle to the all important character growth. I love characters who rise to challenge and while they may not make the correct choice or take the high road they will learn and make the correction for the next time life interrupts with a dead body flung in front of them, or some other plot twist. Yes, murder builds character, and I strive to build a strong character.
Murder is the getty-up and go I use to start, continue and complete a story, what do you use?

While the holidays bring out the best in many people it brings out the worst in others. There are lots of grinches out there who wait until the Whos of the world are asleep or out visiting to strike. They target the cheerful Christmas tree, most especially what lies gaily wrapped beneath it or cut your purse strings, literally, as you shop, and run off with your wallet and ID.
Here are a few holiday tips to make you less vulnerable to the grinches of the world:
Make sure you lock your doors and windows.
Leave a light on during evening hours.
Leave exterior lights-front back and side on (thieves do not like a well lit house).
Do not leave a key out, thieves look for them, find them, then help themselves to your home.
If you have a dog, leave it in your house, especially ones that bark (like mine) at the slightest hint of someone outside, thieves do not like barking dogs.
Let neighbors know if you are going to be away for an extended period of time.
Cancel newspaper and mail delivery during your absence.
When shopping, store packages safely in your trunk not in your back seat where they are visible.
When paying for purchases do not display all of your cash.
Always be aware of your surroundings.
Remember where you park.
Park as close to the mall or shopping center as possible.
Try to do your shopping in daylight hours.
Never give personal info over the phone to solicitors. Ask them for a phone number to call them back at your convenience.
If you don’t have a peep hole, don’t open your door for strangers. Ask who is there, and what they want. Don’t be bashful, it could save your life.
Keep you cell phone charged, and let someone know where you are going.
Have an emergency kit in your car.
Last and certainly not least, go with your gut, your intuition, if someone or some situation doesn’t sit right with you, contact a cop, call a friend, or wait it out in a store.
I’m sure I’ve missed a few good tips, anyone else?

By a show of hands how many of you admit to being neurotic? see definitions below. OK, grudgingly, I raise my hand—half way. I am neurotic but only in one aspect of my life–the writing part. I’m shocked really to learn I have this disorder. I am usually the clam cool collected one, the person who allows no one’s opinion to matter. I am the go to person for others who need a pep talk. I have never bothered with what others think of me or even say about me. My reaction has always been a shrug of my shoulders and the mantra, everyone is entitled to their opinion and theirs doesn’t matter to me so why get upset about it? I am in a nutshell a pretty damn secure and confident individual. But this whole writing thing has brought to surface a part of me I had no idea existed, and I do not like it! Here’s the thing: several writer friends and I have often snickered behind the neurotic author friends we know, backs. Why? Because we would never become so, cringe, insecure.
Do you know what I find myself doing oh, say at least 25,000 times a day now? I google my name and the title of my novella STAKEOUT to see what reviews have popped up. Is that sick? I tell myself I don’t care what the reviewers say, bring it on, let me have it with both barrels. They are just one person’s opinion. I don’t know them so why should I care about what some stranger says about my book? I don’t care, I don’t, I don’t. Riiiight. I guess, I do care. And it bugs the crap out of me. I don’t want to care. I’ve pondered this. Why do I care about what someone thinks of my stories. Hmm, maybe it’s because in every story there is a part of me woven into the characters or the plot. Maybe if enough people don’t like what I write it will affect my sales. And if it affects my sales it will affect whether or not my publishers are going to want my next book. Maybe there is just this teeny tiny part of me that wants to know I done good. That I entertained, that I took someone out of their reality and into my fantasy, and with that gave them pleasure. I want to pleasure my audience. I don’t want to let them down. If you plunk down 14 bucks for my book, I don’t want it to go flying against a wall at any time. I suppose when it is all said and done, maybe opinions aren’t such a bad thing. I know I like it better when my CP’s get out the whip and ride my ass when I’m being lazy. Maybe reviews are the same. Letting an author know you done good or you’d best get back to the keyboard and make your next story better or you’ll be looking for a day job pretty soon.
I love writing, and I know I will survive my neurosis, and it will make me stronger and a better writer. I hope one day to shrug it all off and not care what the reviewers think, but I’m afraid if that happens I may lose touch with my readers. There is nothing worse than arrogance in this business. So maybe, I’ll keep that little neurotic side of me close enough to have control of it, but far enough away to allow it to keep my arrogance at bay.

Main Entry: neurotic
Function: noun
1 : one affected with a neurosis
2 : an emotionally unstable individual (Hey! I resemble this remark! But only when it comes to the writing industry!)
Main Entry: neu·ro·sis
Pronunciation: nu-’rO-s&s, nyu-
Function: noun
Inflected Form(s): plural neu·ro·ses /-”sEz/
Etymology: New Latin
: a mental and emotional disorder that affects only part of the personality, is accompanied by a less distorted perception of reality than in a psychosis, does not result in disturbance of the use of language, and is accompanied by various physical, physiological, and mental disturbances (as visceral symptoms, anxieties, or phobias)

OK, so Jen wanted to know how one got a hot cop to chase her and get caught. My response was speed by him, take him on a wild chase, allow him catch you, assume the position and then, let him frisk away. Bwahahaha, I didn’t say the frisk away part, just the assume the position part. But being the naturally inquisitive girl Jen is, she wanted to know what the position assumed was. So, in my best questimation (as I have never played the hot cop game) one would have to dress for the position for One: the hot cop to command it, and Two: for it to be mutually beneficial. So, I’m thinking very short black leather skirt, snug fitting white top, and either stiletto shoes or thigh high black leather stiletto boots. Once dressed for the occasion and after being subsequently caught by heated hot hop (in a dark secluded spot), one would turn and face the hood of the patrol car, preferably with the high beams dimmed to low (that piercing light can be annoying) the flashing lights must remain on, (for effect), spread your legs a bit wider than shoulder length, turn your derriere up toward hot cop who is out of breath from the wild chase, flick your neck swirling your hair from your neck exposing your skin and lean forward putting your hands palm down on the heated metal of the car, turn slightly to look hot hop in his dark blue eyes, and innocently ask, “Like this, Osifer?” When he nods his head, smile sweetly, turn around and ask, “Are you going to handcuff me?” At this time hot cop should have stepped very close to your excited body, his breath will be as hot as the hood of the car and his hands will… Oh, crap I just remembered, I have a dentist appointment, gotta run. Ciao