Category Archives: romance

Goals – Helpful or Hurtful?

15 Friday Jun 2012

Posted by in historical romance, Impetuous, Katherine Grey, Lilly Gayle, Love Letters, romance, romance author, The Muse, The Wild Rose Press

≈ 11 Comments

Have you ever picked up a book by an unfamiliar author and knew from the first chapter that you were going to love his or her work? That’s what happened when I read Katherine Grey’s Regency romance, Impetuous. It’s the type of Regency romance I love but with a unique twist. The hero is Spanish. And oh so sexy.

Now, Ms. Grey has another book out and she’s agreed to guest blog with me today. So, please welcome romance author Katherine Grey as she weighs the pros and cons of setting goals.

Goals – Helpful or Hurtful?
When I first starting writing, I set the most unbelievable goals for myself though I thought they would be achieved with ease.  One of them was that I would write 10 pages of new material a day, 7 days a week all while holding down a full time job, long standing commitments 2 nights a week, and another long standing commitment from 8:30am to 3:00pm on Saturdays, and keeping the majority of my Sundays for family time.  I don’t think I ever wrote 10 pages in one day during that time, or wrote 7 days a week.  As each week passed that I didn’t meet that goal, I became more and more depressed.  I questioned my desire to be a published author.  If I wanted it so badly, then I should be able to meet that goal right?  Wrong. 
A very wise friend and fellow writer pointed out that it wasn’t that I wasn’t committed to getting published, I just had too much on my plate to enable me to devote that much time to my writing.  She suggested that I not set goals or to focus on smaller goals that would fit around my scheduled commitments.  
I sat down and looked at my schedule.  I decided I needed the time to devote to my writing so I gave 3 months notice to the proper people on those long term commitments that at the end of the 3 months, I would no longer be able to do them.  During that time I tried to write whenever I could but I missed the structure goal setting gave me.
I’ve come a long way since then.  I still like to set goals because they keep me on track and help me stay focused.  I set yearly goals, quarterly goals, and weekly goals.  But one thing that has changed is now-a-days my goals are very fluid.  For example, one goal is to write 20 to 25 pages a week.  By not nailing down a set page count per day, I give myself room in my schedule if something pops up and I can’t write on a certain day.
I also set goals in my non-writing life for things I want to accomplish by a set time or date though for some reason it doesn’t work when it comes to dieting.  I wonder what that says about me…probably that my weakness for ice cream on a hot summer night is greater than my desire to lose those unwanted pounds.  LOL.
Do you set any type of goals?  Do you find them helpful?  If you don’t set goals, why not?

Katherine,
This is such a timely topic as I’m having trouble with this very issue. I set goals I can’t possibly reach and then feel like such a failure that I stop writing for weeks at a time. Then last weekend, I attended an awesome meeting of my local chapter. The topic was Brainstorming but one of the things the speaker said that resonated with me is this: “You can only eat an elephant one bite at a time.” Writing is like eating an elephant. There’s more there than you realize and the only way to achieve success is to set goals you can live with.

Check out Katherine’s newest release:

The Muse
by
Katherine Grey
Blurb:
Noted poet Blaine Hobson counts the Prince Regent among his patrons. But ever since the socialite he wished to marry took her life, he has been unable to compose a single line of poetry. With a sonnet commissioned by the Regent due in a few weeks, Blaine spends his time alternating between trying to write…and wishing he had the courage to join his beloved in the grave.
Raised in an orphanage with her sister, seamstress Emma Tompkins lives with the guilt of her sibling’s death. Accidentally finding a suicide note penned by Blaine, she resolves to keep him alive at all costs. Vigilant, she returns each day, pushing her way into his home–and losing her heart.
Can Blaine forget his beloved and return the affections of the seamstress? Or once finished with his work, will he cast Emma out of his life forever?
Excerpt:
He had to know if she felt as uncomfortable
in his presence as he did in hers. He strode down the
hall, telling himself his eagerness had nothing to do
with seeing Emma herself. His steps slowed. Odd.
The door to the parlour was closed.
He gave a quick rap on the door, although he
didn’t know why since it was his house, turned the
knob, and opened the door. And came to a complete
halt. Bolts of cloth lay in haphazard piles on the
settee and chairs, a stack of paper and the stub of a
pencil lay nearby. In the midst of it all was Emma.
She sat on the floor, her blue gown tucked around
her, a swath of light green fabric in her lap as she
worked pins into the material.
 “Did you find more pins?” she asked without
looking up.
Blaine cleared his throat, struck once again by
her unconscious beauty.
Emma rushed to her feet, one hand still
clutching the cloth. “Yes, I know. A lady does not
crawl about on the floor.” She blew at a loose curl
that had fallen over one eye. “But I never claimed to
be a lady.”
Blaine heard the tired frustration in her voice.
He moved closer and tucked the wayward curl
behind her ear. “You may do anything you wish in
the privacy of this room.”
He tried not to let it bother him when she took a
step back. She laid the fabric aside and began
straightening her hair. He didn’t want her to redo it.
He liked the way she looked, with the wayward
strands curling about her face and neck. His fingers
itched to linger in it, now knowing it was as soft and
silky as it looked. Realizing he was staring at her, he
clasped his hands behind his back and rocked back
on his heels.
 Buy Links:
The Wild Rose Press:  http://www.thewildrosepress.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=176_138&products_id=4863
Amazon:  http://www.amazon.com/The-Muse-Love-Letters-ebook/dp/B0086VMJFE/ref=la_B005PMMHUO_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1338749833&sr=1-2
You can contact Katherine at her blog – http://katherinegrey.blogspot.com or on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/pages/Katherine-Grey/265375626827267?sk=wall

Unexpected Journey

10 Friday Feb 2012

Posted by in Germany, historical romance, Matthew Perry, Munich, paranormal romace, romance, romance author, romance novel, The Wild Rose Press, Weiden, Werewolf

≈ 10 Comments

Earlier this month, I made an unexpected trip to Germany to visit my daughter. She was having some minor surgery and needed her mom. So, off to Europe I went.

I flew out of RDU in Raleigh, NC the last Friday in January for a week-long vist. It was 70 degrees that day, which is unusual, even for North Carolina. But we’ve been having a mild winter. It’s not uncommon to have wild temperature swings in February and March. During those months, it can be sunny and 70 one week and below freezing and snowing the next. But I’ve never gone from 70 to 17 degrees in less than twenty-four hours before. I did that day.

My connecting flight was in Philadelphia where I expected it to be much colder than in NC. Apparently, Philly is having a mild winter this year too. I arrived at the airport in the City of Brotherly Love late in the afternoon and the temp was still hovering around 58 degrees. Not bad. I had on a sweater so I didn’t even put on my coat when I stepped off the plane and rushed through the airport to make my connecting flight to Munich. But when I arrived in Germany nine hours later, I was in for a real surprise. It was snowing.

As we circled the runway, the pilot announced the current time and weather. The time was 8:00 a.m. and the temperature outside was 17 degrees Fahrenheit with snow flurries.

Flying over Munich
Munich Airport

Flurries? I could see the snow covered fields from the sky.
I about froze the moment I stepped off the plane.

 Luckily, my daughter had warned me about the bitter cold so I was prepared. And my son-in-law’s car has heated seats.

It’s 193 kilometers or approximately 120 miles from Munich to Weiden, where my daughter was recovering from surgery at the hospital there. But thanks to the autobahn and no speed limits in sections, my son-in-law made the trip in just under two hours, despite the snow. Than again, the snow plows and brine trucks had started clearing the snow the moment it started falling. Despite the somewhat scary speed at which we traveled, I was able to enjoy the beauty of the Bavarian countryside. 

(Left)Hops field covered in snow.Windmill in background.(Right) German Village outside Munich.

I’ve been to Germany twice before but this trip was different. It wasn’t a vacation, and I hadn’t planned for it. I’d gone to be with my daughter after her surgery, which turned out to be less invasive than originally expected and with a much better outcome. While I was there, I got to visit a German hospital which isn’t something I’d normally do on a visit to another country. But it was educational.
In the US, I work in a hospital, but it’s nothing like the one I visited in Weiden. For starters, US hospitals don’t sell beer in the hospital cafeteria. The hospital in Weiden did! 

The rooms look similar, but the beds looked more like glorified stretchers. Some of the equipment looked the same as in the States but in the US, most hospitals use IV bags. My daughter’s IV was in a plastic bottle the hospital recycles. 

Thank God, my daughter’s hospital visit was brief and she recovered quickly–more quickly than anticipated. So, what started out as a visit to take care of her turned into something fun. We got to spend quality time together without her having to stay in bed.

near my daughter’s neighborhood.
View of Rauher Kulm from Eschenbach

 By the middle of the week, we were able to get out and take a walk through her neighborhood and town.

Downtown Eschenbach
We ate at a nice Chinese restaurant where I enjoyed a nice, dark Dunkelweizen. We visited some of my daughter’s friends, went to a German deli, and on the last day of my visit, we went shopping in Weiden.

Although this wasn’t my first trip to Germany, it was the first time I’d every traveled alone. I was a bit intimidated at first, but on my international flight to Munich, I slept with a handsome 31 year old man. Just kidding!

My “seat mate” on the plane was a cutie from Texas and we did sleep a bit on the plane. He was traveling to Munich on business. He’d previously spent two years in Germany while working for the same management firm. The woman who’d taken his place when his work Visa expired was taking some time off for maternity leave and my handsome seat mate was going back to Germany to fill in for her.

Although we never exchanged names, he was a nice young man. He was also quite handsome. Standing well over six feet tall, he reminded me of Matthew Perry from the Friends TV series. We had a nice chat and I thought of several ideas for a possible romance novel that could start on a plane. Imagine falling in love on an international flight and getting separated in the airport only to realize you’d never exchanged names or information to help you find that person again.

I was intrigued by the concept of writing such a story. But I write historical and paranormal romance. Perhaps I could change the plane to a coach. Or, my handsome Matthew Perry look-a-like could be a werewolf returning to Germany in search of a cure. Since the first recorded Werewolf sighting was around the countryside of German town Colonge and Bedbur in 1591, I could incorporate some of the sites I’ve seen in Germany. Or, maybe I’ll have to try my hand at writing romantic suspense.

What do you think?

Lazy Days

05 Friday Aug 2011

Posted by in Brun Mars, family, Lilly Gayle, romance, romance novel, romance writer, stacation, The Lazy SongThe Wild Rose Press, vacation

≈ 3 Comments

Today, I’m going to be lazy. Kind of like in that Bruno Mars song I like so much. Or, at least that’s what I’d like to be doing today. I’d like to lay in my bed and read. Or sit at my desk in my PJ’s and write. But, despite having the day off, I have a dozen or more things I need to accomplish.

 My daughter and her husband have been gone for a week now. They headed back to Germany last Friday. It feels as if they’ve been gone a month. They were with his family the first week, split the difference the second week, and spent most of that third week with us. So, my husband and I took a week off to be with them. We didn’t really go anywhere. We had more of a stacation than a vacation, but we stuffed that week full of fun.

There was bowling, fishing, pool parties, shopping, and lots of dining out. People were in and out all week, mostly my daughter’s girl friends from “the old days” lol, and a cousin that’s always been like a daughter to me. It was a fun week. And now,  I feel as if I’m a month behind on everything. Writing, cleaning, laundry.

My daughter did her own laundry while she was here. She even helped keep the towels washed. But, there were just so many towels. Especially beach towels from the pool parties. They take up a lot of room in the wash. And I’m still behind. But at least I got all the sheets washed and fresh ones put on the bed. Even mine.

Despite the fact that the house needs cleaning, today was supposed to be my Lazy Day. I was going to do a little laundry, a little reading and a lot of writing. But, now the air conditioner on my car is on the fritz. My youngest graduates from UNC’s Radiation Therapy program this weekend and we still don’t have new dresses to wear and I have a dozen errands to run.

So, I guess I’ll jut have to pop in a CD, find that Bruno Mars song, and turn the volume way up in the car while I’m driving around, running those errands, and wishing I could have my Lazy Day to do nothing but read and write.

What do you like to do on your lazy days?

FROM LOINCLOTH TO THONG . . . Not so different are they?

24 Friday Jun 2011

Posted by in historical romance, history, Jennifer Jakes, Lilly Gayle, love stories, romance, romance novel, romance writer, romances

≈ 24 Comments

Today, I’m welcoming guest blogger, Jennifer Jakes who’s going to entertain us with a post on underwear!

Have at it, Jennifer!

FROM LOINCLOTH TO THONG . . . Not so different are they?
So are we moving forward or going back? Let’s take a quick look at the history of what men wear under there!

The first men’s underwear was probably the Loincloth, a simple strip of material or leather. A loincloth was also used to describe material pulled between the legs and fastened like a diaper. Not a good look for anyone 😦 Greek and Roman men reportedly wore loinclothes.


During the Middle Ages, loinclothes were replaced by loose trouser-like pants called Braies. Braies were a step-in design and laced at the waist and mid-calf. Wealthy men also wore chausses.- tights worn over the legs and feet.


By Renaissance, braies became shorter to accommodate longer styles of chausses — and chausses gave way to hose. The hose were two separate legs leaving their genitals uncovered. (Men could wear underdrawers) Hence, the Codpiece came into use. Over time, codpieces became padded to emphasize rather than to conceal, reaching their peak of size and decoration in the 1540s before falling out of use by the 1590s. (Since neither braies nor chausses were meant to be worn beneath they weren’t technically underwear.)

Braies were replaced by cotton, silk or linen drawers which were worn for years and years and years. And years. I couldn’t find much information on how much — if any — the basic design changed. However, in the mid 1800’s mass production of underwear began and people started to buy their drawers instead of making them at home. The Unionsuit also became popular in the mid 1800’s — 1868 actually — and had the drop seat in the back.

In 1874, the Jock Strap came along to provide support for the bicycle jockeys riding upon cobblestone streets.

The first underwear print ad ran in the Saturday Evening Post in 1911, an oil painting, not a picture. That would have been indecent! In WWI soldiers were issued button front shorts though they were often still worn with a union suit. (Which by the way became 2 pieces in 1910 – what we call long-johns).

By 1935 Coopers Inc. sold the world’s first men’s briefs, the design dubbed Jockey since it provided the support once only offered by a jock strap. 30,000 pairs of new Jockeys sold within the first 3 months of introduction. In the 1950’s manufacturers began to make men’s underwear from colored and/or printed material. In the 1970’s and 1980’s advertisers began appealing to the sexual side of selling, foregoing the long time ad practice of comfort and durability. Speaking of comfort – or lack thereof – the thong became popular in the 1990’s.

So, what do you prefer on your man? Boxer, brief, thong . . . loincloth?

Jennifer Jakes western historical, Rafe’s Remption is now available from http://www.wilderroses.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=156&products_id=812

Blurb:
He rode into town to buy supplies, not a woman.

For hunted recluse Rafe McBride, the raven-haired beauty on the auction block is exactly what he doesn’t need. A dependent woman will be another clue his vengeful stepbrother can use to find and kill him. But Rafe’s conscience won’t let him leave another innocent’s virginity to the riff-raff bidding. He buys her, promising to return her to St. Louis untouched. He only prays the impending blizzard holds off before her sultry beauty breaks his willpower.
She wanted freedom, not a lover.

Whisked to the auction block by her devious, gambling cousin, and then sold into the arms of a gorgeous stranger, outspoken artist Maggie Monroe isn’t about to go meekly. Especially when the rugged mountain man looks like sin and danger rolled into one. But a blizzard and temptation thrust them together, and Maggie yearns to explore her smoldering passion for Rafe.

But when the snow clears, will the danger and secrets that surround Rafe and Maggie tear them apart?

Excerpt:
Oh, Lord. He was going to kiss her. She shouldn’t want this. She was confused enough. Respectable women didn’t kiss men they barely knew, certainly not men who made them have wild, exotic dreams.

It was crazy. He was making her want crazy things. Making her not give a damn about her reputation or her virginity. Or her long-awaited freedom. All she could think about was that dream, and the way his sinful mouth had felt. The table was only a step away, and honey was just as sweet as peach juice…

She swallowed hard and looked up into his hooded eyes.

“Maggie,” he groaned. “Don’t be scared. I’d never hurt you.”

Her mouth parted to object, but firm lips covered hers, hungry, demanding. She gasped, shocked at his hunger, but even more at the illicit response coursing through her. An aching heat unfurled low in her stomach, pulsed between her legs. Oh, yes. It started just like in the dream

He deepened the kiss, coaxed her lips with his warm tongue. Long, languid strokes teased the inside of her mouth, encouraging, tempting before he pulled back to nibble the corners of her lips.

Oh, God. Is this what all kisses felt like? Hot, lethargic? Melting her like molasses over warm bread?

“Kiss me, Maggie,” he breathed.

Thanks so much for this fun and fascinating post, Jennifer. And, BTW, I prefer briefs on a man. lol!

Lady Gilchrest speaks with Lilly Gayle

14 Tuesday Jun 2011

Posted by in Blog Tour, historical romance, romance, romance novels, romance writer, Slightly Tarnished, The Wild Rose Press, TWRP, writer, writing

≈ 14 Comments

Today’s blogpost is going to be fun! Or maybe just a bit whacky. At any rate, I’ve joined a blog chain and each participant has agreed to let one of their characters inteview them. Yep, I’m going to be interviewed by an imaginary person. And she’s not even from this century! But here goes…

Nikki invited me to sit down. She was an American like me, and newly wed to a British Earl. The former Nicole Keller was now a countess, and rumor had it the marriage was one of convieneice. But she seemed happy.

I sat in a beautiful but uncomfortable rosewood and gold upholstered parlor chair. Nikki addjusted her wide skirts and sat across from me in a matching chair. She leaned forward, her curly brown hair falling over her shoulder as she met my gaze. “I heard you recently celebrated your annivesary. Which one?”

“Our thirty-first. We celebrated June 7.”

“May I offer my felicitations?” Her voice was unnaturally cultered, the slight inclination of her chin stilted, as if she wasn’t used to the regid posture or the formal speach.

I cracked a smile. “Thanks. And congratulations on your recent marriage.”

A smile brightened her face as well. “Thank you. Do you have any children?”

“I have two beautiful daughters. My youngest lives at home while attending her last year of college.” I didn’t say she was currently enrolled in UNC’s School of Radiation Therapy or that she worked part-time as a radiologic technologist. Wilhelm Conrad Roentgen wouldn’t even discover x-rays until November 1895.

“She’s attending college? Oh my! That’s so…adventurous.” Envy colored Nikki’s face. “I have no formal education beyond the school room. But I learned much, sailing on my father’s ship as a young girl. What of your oldest?”

 “She’s married and living in Germany. Her husband is in the army, and she works for the army.” Again, I kept my secrets. My daughter worked for the MWR, the army’s version of parks and recreation. Her husband was an airtraffic controller. But in Nikki’s time, airplanes didn’t exist.
A frown wrinkled Nikki’s brow. “But America isn’t at war with Germany.”

Hmm. I hadn’t thought about that. I thought she’d have questions about my daughter’s job. There were only so many acceptable jobs a women could have in her time. I shrugged.

“It must be difficult,” she added after a moment of awkward silence. “My mother and I travelled together to England. In fact, she lives with Chad…I mean, Lord Gilchrest and me. But your daughter lives so far away, and overseas mail take so dreadfully long.”

But email and texting were instant. And there was always Skype and the telephone. Both my daughter and I had Vonage so there was no long distance charges. Besides, my husband and I had just visited my dauther and her husband in April. It was our second visit since her marriage in December 2006. And this time, we took a side trip to Amsterdam. But I didn’t say anything. I simply lowered my head to hide a smile.

Nikki cleared her throat. “Germany isn’t so very far from England. Perhaps you could sail there before heading home?” she suggested.

I hid another smile. “Perhaps.”

“I understand you’re from North Carolina.”

I nodded. “I live in north central North Carolina.”

Her golden brown eyes brightened. “Have you ever been to Portsmouth Village? I grew up there on the island.”

I hesitated, not sure how to answer. Nikki left the island in 1857. I was there in 2006.  “Yes…”

Her face glowed with excitement. “It’s wonderful. Isn’t it? I love it here at Lands End, but I miss North Carolina and would love to show Lord Gilchrest where I grew up. It’s been over a year since I left. Has it changed much, do you think?”

What could I say? My husband and I visited Portsmouth Island when I was doing research so I could revise Slightly Tarnished, my historical romance about Nikki and her husband, Chad. But the Portsmouth Island I’d seen was nothing like the home she remembered.

Portsmouth Village was once the largest settlement on the Outer Banks and a major shipping center until the hurricane of 1846 cut a deeper inlet through Hatteras. After Ocracoke Inlet began to shoal, Portsmouth and nearby Shell Castle Island became lightering stations. During Nikki’s time, tall ships dropped anchor off shore and slave labor transferred the cargo to and from lighter, shallower draft boats for the journey out to sea or back to the wharf and further inland to other ports.

By 1860, the population of Portsmouth had grown to 685 residents. But after North Carolina succeeded from the union in 1861, many of those residents fled for the mainland to avoid the Union Army as it marched across the Outer Banks. Many never returned and eventually, the shipping industry shifted north and the village began to die.
                                                                              
Fishing replaced shipping for the islanders that remained and in 1894, the U.S. Life-Saving Service was established on the island. It played a vital role in the community for 50 years. But by 1956, only 17 residents remained on the island.

Eventually, the isolation became too much, and in 1971, the last two residents moved to the mainland.

The island is now a state park and visiting is like stepping back in time. Some of the houses remain and a church still stands as does the school and post office. But the mosqitos and flies will eat you alive. I wondered how people managed in Nikki’s time. But I couldn’t ask. She thought I was a woman from her own time who wrote sensation novels.
I cleared my throat. “It’s been a couple of years since I visited. I’m sure the place has changed.”

“Oh, I doubt it’s changed much,” she said with a laugh. “The people of Portsmouth Island live simple lives and don’t cotten to change.”

“I know you miss your home, but don’t you like it here–in Land’s End with your husband?” I know longer knew who was interviewing whom. I’d written Nikki’s story to have a happy ending, but things had happened. Terrible things. So, was she really happy? I needed to know.

She smiled as if hiding a great secret. “I hated London. But Gilchrest has it’s own private beach. And except for it being a castle, it reminds me of home. So yes. I’m happy. I love it here.”

I sighed with relief, knowing she was happy with her life and her husband because I’d written  her that way.

Slightly Tarnished, my first published historical is now available from the publisher: The Wild Rose Press http://www.thewildrosepress.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=176_138&products_id=4516

Amazon http://www.amazon.com/Slightly-Tarnished-Lilly-Gayle/dp/1601549237/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1308007635&sr=8-1
and Barnes & Noble http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/slightly-tarnished-lilly-gayle/1031415856?ean=2940012929167&itm=2&usri=lilly%2bgayle

If you enjoyed this interview, please check out the other particiapting authors in the chain to see which characters interview them.

 Here’s a list  of participants in order of their participation and estimated dates:

6/6: Aimee Laine : http://www.aimeelaine.com/blog
6/8: Lyla Dune : http://lyladune.com/blog.html
6/10: Carol Strickland : http://carolastrickland.blogspot.com/
6/12: Amy Corwin : http://amycorwin.blogspot.com/
6/14: Lilly Gayle : http://www.lillygayleromance.blogspot.com/
6/16: Rebekkah Niles : http://juturnafaerthing.blogspot.com/
6/18: Laura Browning : http://www.laurabrowningbooks.blogspot.com/
6/20: Andris Bear : http://andrisbear.wordpress.com/
6/22: Marcia Colette : http://marciacolette.wordpress.com/
6/24: Nancy Badger : http://www.nancylennea-inlove.blogspot.com
6/26: Sarah Mäkelä : http://blog.sarahmakela.com
6/28: Jennifer Harrington : http://www.romanceadventures.blogspot.com/
6/30: Scott Berger : http://romanticadventurestories.wordpress.com/

Release Day, Blog Chains, & Pictures from my Last Day in Germany

03 Friday Jun 2011

Posted by in Blog chain, romance, Slightly Tarnished

≈ 4 Comments

It’s RELEASE DAY! Yes, today is the official release of my first published historical, Slightly Tarnished. My fabulous editor was Allison Byers and my talented cover artist was Angela Anderson. Thanks so much ladies for making me look good! The buy link for the book is http://www.wildrosepress.us/maincatalog/ Slightly Tarnished is on the opening page!
Also, I’m participating in a blog tour this month. The tour starts June 6th and features several HCRW authors. My day to post is June 14. This will be a fun series of interviews in which a main character from the author’s book interviews the author. I think Nikki, my heroine from Slightly Tarnished, will interview me. After all, we are both from NC! And at the end of the tour, I’ll give away a digital copy of the book to one of my commenters. So stop by on the 14th, or visit one of the other authors participating in the tour starting June 6th:
Aimee Laine : http://www.aimeelaine.com/blog

Lyla Dune : http://lyladune.com/blog.html
Carol Strickland : http://carolastrickland.blogspot.com/
Amy Corwin : http://amycorwin.blogspot.com/
Lilly Gayle : http://www.lillygayleromance.blogspot.com
Rebekkah Niles : http://juturnafaerthing.blogspot.com/
Laura Browning : http://www.laurabrowningbooks.blogspot.com/
Andris Bear : http://andrisbear.wordpress.com/
Marcia Colette : http://marciacolette.wordpress.com/
Nancy Badger : http://www.nancylennea-inlove.blogspot.com
Sarah Mäkelä : http://blog.sarahmakela.com

June 7 is also my 31st wedding anniversary. But I doubt we’ll be taking any trips. We only recently traveled to Germany and Amsterdam.
When we flew out of RDU on April 19th, it was 88 degrees. But April in Germany is supposed to be much cooler. Luckily for us, there was a heatwave. We arrived in Nuremberg on the 20th to sunny skies and a warm 77 degrees. It remained warm and sunny for our most of our trip. It was even hot and sunny in Amsterdam. But, on our last day, the clouds rolled in and the temperature plummeted to 58 degrees. But that didn’t stop us form touring Beyreuth again.
We saw the catacombs, brewery, and Margravial Opera House on Day 2 of our trip. Son on our last day, Day 7, we visited the Margravial Palace known as The Hermitage or Eremitage in German, the grotto, and the New Castle and gardens.
After parking, we walked through tree lined paths toward the palace.
My son-in-law had to work, so my daughter played tour guide. Isn’t she beautiful?
When we cleared the trees, we came upon a small village. The village is to the left of the photo. The steps on the right led to the new castle and gardens.
Atop of a hill to the left, there was a spiral path leading to a pagoda-type gazebo.
So, we climbed to the top and posed for pictures.

And enjoyed the view…
Gold leaf statue of Zeus in a Chariot atop the New Castle.

We left the pagoda and headed toward the New Castle.

The New Castle is shaped in a semi-circle and inside the circle lies the gardens. The outside walls are overlaid with colored stone,seashells, and gold leaf. Inside, part of the castle has been converted into a cafe and gift shop. The rest of the New Castle is not open to the public. But the outside is breathtaking!

Inside the semi-circle we found a beautiful garden, statues, and fountain.

From the gardens, we followed a trail (and our tour guide) to the Old Castle.
To get to the Old Castle, we passed under a rock arch and followed a path.

Our tour guide led us into the Old Castle via the grotto.

Entering the grotto was like stepping down into a cellar…

But inside the grotto is a fountain house designed to look like an undersea cavern. The paths inside the grotto are narrow and a dozen hidden fountains. When the Margrave and his wife entertained, the felt compelled to invite many people they didn’t like. Close friends and confidants knew where the fountains were located and where to stand inside the grotto. Others did not, and so the Margrave would sit in a box above the crowd and when they entered, he would turn on the fountains, spraying those not on the path. The wet people went home. His friends stayed.
The Margrave’s box is above the crest.
Below are other pictures from inside the grotto and fountain house:

exited the grotto using these stairs.

Upon leaving the grotto, we toured outside the Old Castle.

Courtyard of the Old Castle. Women’s rooms are to the right. Men’s are to the left. Ballroom is straight ahead.

Outside Kitchen door of the Old Castle.

Backside of house.

Rear gardens.

Monument to the Lady Margrave’s dog. Apparently, the dog’s German name translates: Crazy Dog.

Greek style amphitheater.

 The inside of the castle was beautiful, but we were unable to take pictures. In fact, the only time I’ve ever seen anything more elegant than the castle and gardens at the Hermitage was on our last visit to Germany in 2008 when we visited Neuschwanstien, Hohenschwangau and Linderhoff.

When the tour was over, we left the Hermitage.

After leaving the Hermitage, we went to the mall in Beyreuthbanana splits. My husband had lasagna ice cream and I had spaghetti ice cream. With lasagna ice cream, the “noodles” are made with flatten strips of ice cream covered in colorful berry “sauce” and sprinkled with white chocolate for the Parmesan. The spaghetti ice cream used ice cream shaped like noodles and covered in a strawberry sauce and sprinkled with white chocolate.

Once we left the mall, we drove back through Beyreuth on the way back to my daughter’s house.

And passed a monastery near Eschenbach.

We stayed in that last night because we had to get up at 3:30 in the morning in order to get to Nuremberg and catch our 6:30 flight. The next morning was cold and dreary and my daughter was just as sad as her dad and I were…


But she and her husband are coming home for a visit in July and I can wait to see them again. My youngest daughter is also excited. Lauren didn’t get to go with us to Germany this trip and she really misses her sister. Also, Lauren’s birthday is the week before Jennifer and Mike’s visit and Lauren graduates from UNC’s radiation therapy school the week after they leave. So, it looks like July will be just as busy as June. And I’m lovin’ it!

Are you Superstitious?

13 Friday May 2011

Posted by in Friday 13th, historical romance, Hope Diamond, Jennifer Coffeen, Lover's Gamble, mystery, romance, romantic suspense, The Wild Rose Press

≈ 5 Comments


I’m taking a break from my  vacation posts today to welcome fellow TWRP author Jennifer Coffeen.

Welcome, Jennifer!

Hi Lilly,
Did you wake up this morning with a case of Paraskavedekatriaphobia? If your doors are locked and Friday the 13th is circled on the calendar, you might be a candidate for this phobia.
 

Friday the 13th has long been a day of superstition, legends, and curses. No one is quite sure where the fear of this particular day began, but many attribute it to the evil surrounding number 13 combined with Friday, considered the unluckiest day as far back as the Middle Ages. Wherever the superstition comes from, nothing beats a good scare to add spice and intrigue to your writings.

My novel “Priceless Deception”, due out this summer on August 14th, is centered around the heroine’s search for the cursed French Blue diamond. The French Blue diamond has touched many famous people and events through history, though most people know it by its more modern name, the Hope Diamond.

The curse of the French Blue diamond began in 1642 by a Frenchman named Jean Baptiste Tavernier. The legend states that Tavernier plucked the enormous blue diamond from the forehead or eye of an idol during his travels in India. After returning to France and selling the diamond to King Louie XIV, Tavernier continued his travels to Russia where he was reportedly ripped to pieces by wild dogs as punishment for removing the stone. The diamond was later recut and passed down to Louie XVI and his wife Marie Antoinette. Both were executed by the guillotine during the French Revolution and many believe it was the diamond’s curse that caused such a violent end. After that the French Blue was stolen and remained lost until 1812, when it mysterious appeared for sale in London. There are rumors it was purchased by King George IV, and several paintings portray him wearing a very large blue stone in a pendant.

The French Blue eventually resurfaced in America in the hands of Henry Philip Hope where it got its name the Hope Diamond. The curse soon struck again, as the once wealthy Hope family went completely bankrupt after taking possession of the diamond.

In 1910 Pierre Cartier sold the diamond to Evalyn Walsh McLean who proclaimed it her good luck charm. According to some close to Evalyn, the wealthy woman was obsessed with the Hope diamond, refusing to take it off even for a goiter operation. Sadly, it not the good luck she wished for, and Evalyn’s family had their own share of tragedy. Her first born died in a car crash, her daughter committed suicide and her husband went insane and was confined to a mental institution. Many saw this as the long fingers of the diamond’s curse, but Evalyn stubbornly wore the diamond until she died. It was sold in 1941 to settle debts from her estate and purchased by Harry Winston. Winston wanted nothing to do with the diamond’s curse and later, some say for mysterious reasons, offered to donate the diamond to the Smithsonian Museum in Washington D.C.

Are you a believer yet? Though I wouldn’t diagnose myself with any phobias, you won’t catch me walking beneath any ladders today!

Jennifer Coffeen is a fellow TWRP author and if you can’t wait until until summer for the release of Priceless Deception, she has a hot release that’s available now. http://thewildrosepress.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&products_id=4449

Here’s a blurb and excerpt  from Jennifer’s April release, Lover’s Gamble.

Sophie Hartlend likes to play with fire.
 
The reckless and beautiful Miss Sophie has spent her young life doing whatever she pleases without much consequence—except for that one night when passions went too far with the maddeningly handsome Lord Rayburn.

Months after their encounter, Sophie’s newfound infatuation with gambling has landed her in trouble, threatening her precious independence. Lord Rayburn gallantly offers to help, but he insists the wild Miss Sophie do things his way. Once again they find themselves in a battle of wills, attracted but with opposing views.
Will Sophie relent when she discovers she must lay down all her cards in order to win Lord Rayburn’s heart?

(Pages 58) Spicy
Word Count 15000

Excerpt:
Hugh shook his head, forcing his vision to clear. It couldn’t be. He simply had to be mistaken… But no, when he looked again there was no doubt. It was none other than Miss Sophie Hartlend, chattering away like she’d been gambling in Newbury House for years.

What the hell does she think she’s doing? It’s nearly two in the morning, and not a chaperone in sight! He had to admit she looked as stunning as he remembered her, like a long-worshipped Grecian goddess, her long hair curled artfully around her high cheekbones. He had a sudden vision of releasing that cascade of hair from its heavy pins, watching it flow down her naked back in waves.

With a sharp pang Hugh remembered the feel of it through his fingers as he kissed her that hot August night—nearly a year ago now, but a night he’d never forgotten. He’d fallen in love during that single night of passion and, stupidly, assumed she felt the same way. The next day he laid his pride at her feet, making an utter fool of himself over a woman.

Hugh’s hand tightened into a fist. After that day he’d never seen her again, until now. And suddenly here she was, in the most inappropriately low-cut gown he’d ever seen, gambling like a common bit of muslin.

And apparently quite bad at it, too.

You can find Jennfer at: http://www.jenniferanncoffeen.com/ and on facebook at: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Jennifer-Ann-Coffeen/119223098153686

and check out her book trailer at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bYpv1MQGJU4

Thanks for sharing a bit of mystery and history with us today. And stay away from ladders. lol!

Day One. Destination: Germany

01 Sunday May 2011

Posted by in cemetaries, Germany, Lilly Gayle, OUT OF THE DARKNESS, romance, The Wild Rose Press, travel, vampires

≈ 8 Comments

 My husband and I recently vacationed in Germany with a side trip to Amsterdam. We went to visit my daughter and her husband who’s stationed in Germany. We left on a Tuesday afternoon, flying Jet Blue out of RDU to JFK.

Flying over New York was not what I expected. For one thing, I thought to see tall buildings and crowded streets. I didn’t expect to see oceanfront property. Yes, I know New York is a coastal state and that Long Island and Manhattan are, well, islands. But the expanse of sand took me by surprise. So did the empty beaches. It was 80 degrees when we flew over. NC beaches are packed when the temps reach that high. But I could barely see anyone on these beaches. And the sand looked almost concrete. Is it paved like a sidewalk? I don’t know. But the view from the air was incredible.

Once we reached JFK, we rushed to our next gate to wait for our connecting flight on Swiss Air that would takes us to Zurich where we’d change planes again. Our experiences on both Jet Blue and Swiss air were great. Planes left on time. The flight attendants were friendly. And the view of New York at night was awe inspiring.

It was an overnight flight and I awoke in time to see Paris. Or not. The plane had dropped below its 37,000 feet cruising altitude but we were still too high to see much of anything. And it was cloudy. But I got a glimpse of the Swiss Alps as we entered Switzerland. Seeing the tops of those jagged, snow-capped mountains jutting high above the clouds was a sight I’ll never forget. It reminded me of that movie, Alive. Alive is based on the book Alive: The Story of the Andes Survivors and details the events surrounding the Uruaguay rugby team whose plane crashed in the Andes mountains in 1972. A fellow writer posted this blog after hearing one of the survivors of the crash speak at a lecture. http://tonianderson.blogspot.com/2011/03/complaining-is-optional.html It will give you cold chills and make you think.

From Zurich, we caught a connecting flight to Nuremberg where my daughter picked us up. I’m in the process of writing the sequel to Out of the Darkness, my paranormal vampire romance. There’s a scene in the book set in a cemetary in Nuremberg. And so, my daughter took us to the cemetary so I could take some pictures. She thought it was creepy, but I love old cemetaries.

I find them incredibly peaceful and beautiful, not like modern cemetaries with the plastic grave markers or flat foot markers. I love the artistry of old grave yards. And there are always beautfiul statues.

And in Germany, there are many gorgeous old churches, some that date back to mideival times.
 

This particular cemetary had some new graves and some from WWII and older. My daughter said some victims of the plague were buried in mass graves on the church grounds. We did see some family graves and I wasn’t sure if they were headstones to mark the family plot, or if they were indeed, mass family graves.

This grave, for instance, had no other markers near it. And nothing that looked like additional plots. So, I can only guess about the Sebald family and how/when they died and were buried.

Visiting cemetaries may seem a bit macabre, but luckily for me, my husband enjoyes it too. He says walking through cemetaries makes him feel grateful he isn’t sprawled out in the dirt getting eaten by worms. Then, I remind him he wants to be cremated.

After spending a relaxing afternoon touring the cemetary, we walked through Nuremberg and discussed plans for our week long visit with my daughter and her husband. Nuremberg is a beautiful old city, but I think I like Beyreuth better.

Check back later in the week, when I post day two’s adventures in the beautiful city of Beyreuth, Germany.

Dog Tales and Backstory

01 Friday Apr 2011

Posted by in april fools, driven2danger, Mary Campisi, romance, Sandra Crowley, The Wild Rose Press

≈ 7 Comments

Happy Friday.

Today, you’ll find me over on Sandra Crowley’s blog http://www.driven2danger.blogspot.com/ talking about my battle with breast cancer and my morgue experience. 

And I have Mary Campisi here with me talking about dog tales and backstory. So, sit back, grap a cup of coffee, and let Mary entertain you.

Mary~

I had planned to write about April Fool’s Day but with a blanket of snow on the ground, it doesn’t feel like April, even for Ohio. The snow started yesterday afternoon as I furiously sprayed my half eaten tulips with Liquid Fence to combat the deer and rabbits who I’m sure enjoyed the top thirds of those tulips. This will be an ongoing battle from now until fall as I fight to protect my hydrangeas, lilies, hostas, petunias, cosmos and several other flowers. I won’t even get started on the Japanese beetles that will appear in a few months because that’s another story.

So, with snow on the ground, I lost interest in April Fool’s banter and decided to come up with another topic. I shrugged into my winter gear and headed into the snow with my dog, Cooper, for a three mile walk. It’s a morning ritual we’ve engaged in since his rescue 2 ½ years ago. We look forward to it for so many reasons; exercise, quiet, exploring, daydreaming, plotting and planning. Okay, Cooper only wants the exercise and the exploring which has on occasion included sniffing out an Eggo waffle from the bushes, scarfing up a half-eaten bagel with cream cheese and wolfing down a banana strewn on the tree lawn. His finds are true testimonials to the discarded breakfasts of kids on their way to the bus.

As we made our usual trek, I thought about topics and possibilities and then it hit me; I would write about backstory, but not in an instructional way. I would write about it using Cooper and his history as the model. He’s got quite a story, some known, some guessed at, some revealed in dribbles, but all heartbreaking and inspirational.

After we lost our black lab, Molly, one short week after her twelfth birthday, I mourned her for months. Her story is for another time – this one is about Cooper. After seven months, I was ready to open my heart to another dog, a rescue this time. Enter Cooper. I passed him over the first time I saw him on the lab rescue website. He didn’t look like much of a lab, his nose was too long, his tail looked chopped, and he was a boy. (I thought I wanted a girl.) After days of scouring the site, I called the head of the lab rescue association for direction and she suggested Cooper. She had done the intake on him when he first arrived in their facility and said he was intelligent and eager to please. Probably two or so years old. What they knew about him, (backstory) was that he’d been found wandering along the state route highway and the town drunk picked him up and took him to the lab rescue center. Most likely, he’d been dumped.

My husband and I decided to visit the foster home and take a look at Cooper. Talk about skinny. I mean ‘count your ribs’ skinny. He had fly bites behind his ears, and long, spindly legs and one silly little barbell squeaky toy with the paint half chipped off. (We pictured him wandering the roads, scrapping for food and shelter. The fly bites behind the ears made us wonder if he’d been left outside for long periods of time. Tied up?) When we saw him in person, we spotted the lab in him but there was something else too – pointer? He was such a pathetic little bugger, so uncertain and timid, nothing like Queen Molly had been. That’s when I truly realized Molly would never be replaced but there was room in our hearts to love another dog and that dog was Cooper.

So, here’s some interesting backstory we guessed at once Cooper moved in:

This dog can smell! – How else would he have sniffed out two dead mice in our basement…behind a stack of lumber? Yes, gross! Or run along the lawn in a zig zag pattern, nose to the ground, sniffing like a pig searching out truffles but most likely tracking voles?

This dog can jump! He stole 24 half frozen meatballs from a glass Pyrex on the countertop and didn’t move the Pyrex or leave a trace. A few months later, he stole a half a ham from the same Pyrex which was on top of the dryer in the laundry room, (put there as safekeeping for the next day graduation party, but I forgot to close the door.) Cooper got the ham and the Pyrex from the dryer and dragged them across the long kitchen floor, upending the Pyrex but not breaking it. Fortunately, we must have interrupted his shenanigans before he ate much of it. And no, we did not serve the remainder of the ham to guests

This dog can’t run a straight line. Cooper is fast, I mean really fast, especially when he’s retrieving a tennis ball. But when he’s running back to us, he’s almost sidestepping as he moves. My husband thinks he was once on a chain and learned how to run this way. I try not to think about it.

This dog has manners. Despite his sad background, Cooper’s foster mother taught him a few tricks that have served him well. He sits and waits for the hand command before eating, he can back up, roll over, creep, and if something lands on the floor, he will wait until I tell him it’s okay to eat. (I wish he would do this on his walks!)

This dog doesn’t like Birthdays. One month after we adopted Cooper, we celebrated my mother’s 80th birthday. When the candles came out and we sang Happy Birthday, Cooper ran in the other room and hid under the computer desk. We’ve had several birthdays since then and we’ve learned he doesn’t like the song Happy Birthday or candles/fire of any kind. I don’t light any scented candles in the house because it scares him and he runs off. No outside fire pits either. I would love to know what happened that frightened him so much. He also doesn’t like ‘Soft Little Kitty’ from The Big Bang Theory. He perked up one night and watched the TV, mesmerized by the sound. Other songs are okay, trust me, I’ve tried them out on him I think this one has to do with the fact that it sounds like a child singing and children also bother him. Crying children, loud voices, all worrisome to him.

This dog does not like engines. As much as Molly loved the UPS man, Cooper does not. It’s not the man or the vehicle that sends him in a tailspin; it’s the sound of the engine. Buses, UPS, Fed Ex, garbage trucks . . . Did he try to steal food from the garbage truck and get chased away?

This dog is still…a dog. I’ve had Cooper micro chipped like Jason Bourne. He has an orthopedic bed and a snuggle bed. He has an L.L. Bean monogrammed leash and collar. He eats sensitive stomach dog food and bite size apple turnover dog treats. And guess what? The other day we were on our walk and I noticed he had something in his mouth. I thought it was a pine cone. Uh,no, it was a partial head of a rabbit. I was not happy. Worse, too many times I’ve caught him in the wooded part of our backyard chomping away. I know he’s probably eating rabbit droppings! As my vet once asked me, “If Cooper were in the wild, would he choose organ meats or lean?”

This dog watches over us. When Cooper first arrived, he woke in the middle of the night and walked to my side of the bed and then my husband’s, just making sure we were there. He doesn’t do it as much anymore, but still, at least once a week, I hear him. I wonder what he’s thinking . . .

So what does this all mean? Cooper’s backstory was revealed to us a bit at a time. Rarely did anyone step up and tell us about him, because no one knows which leads to supposition on our part after evaluating and observing his responses and behavior in certain circumstances. Revealing backstory in writing is no different. Dump it all in the first chapter and the pace slows, the reader loses interest, and the intrigue slips away. But dole it out a bit at a time, through action or reaction and you’ve got a very interesting tale. Or in Cooper’s case, a dog tail…I mean tale.

Mary’s Regency romance, A Taste of Seduction is now available. http://thewildrosepress.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=176_138&products_id=4421

A Taste of Seduction:
A young woman of noble blood, raised as a peasant girl

An orphaned stable boy, now grown and the surrogate son of a powerful earl – the same earl who just so happens to be the young woman’s father . . .

Meriel and Anthony have nothing in common – she runs barefoot and talks to animals, he won’t loosen his cravat unless the bedroom door is firmly closed. Meriel believes in love, hope, and happily ever after. Anthony believes in keeping a safe distance from anything resembling an emotion. They have nothing in common but an undeniable, burning desire for one another they can’t ignore or understand, and an ailing ‘father’ who will do anything to see them together. Unfortunately, there are others, who will stop at nothing, willing even to kill, to keep them apart.


Excerpt: “Thank you, Anthony,” she said, a small smile lighting her face. “You’re very kind.” She leaned over and planted a chaste kiss on his cheek.

Kind? He wondered if she would still think him kind if he told her that right now all he could think about was tasting her lips, touching her breasts, feeling her bare skin. Kind? Hardly.

He cleared his throat and met her gaze. He had to set her straight before she started imagining all sorts of other crazy things about him. “Kind? That’s not a term that’s usually associated with me.”

She laughed, a tinkling sound that ran through his body like fire. “That’s because you want everyone to think you are some sort of cruel beast. You even had me fooled for a while.” Her voice dipped to a low purr. “But you aren’t a beast, Anthony, not at all. No beast would eat my bread just so he wouldn’t hurt my feelings.”

He frowned, hoping his scar stuck out white and ugly. “You should be afraid of me.” Men twice her size couldn’t look him in the eye.

“How can I be afraid of you when you’ve got butter on the side of your mouth?” She reached out to brush it away with her forefinger. “And all over your lips,” she murmured, tracing her finger over first his upper and then his lower lip.

Anthony caught her hand. She was playing a dangerous game and she didn’t even know it. He opened his mouth and flicked his tongue along the tip of her finger. He heard the small catch in her throat. His tongue traced another finger, and then another. Sweet Jesus, but he wanted her.

“Come to me, Meriel,” he whispered, planting a kiss on the inside of her palm. “Let me taste you.”

Readers can contact Mary at http://www.marycampisi.com/or mary@marycampisi.com

The Soul Mate Debate

22 Tuesday Mar 2011

Posted by in Lilly Gayle, prizes, romance, soul mates, The Wild Rose Press, true love, win a kindle

≈ 23 Comments

Do you believe in soul mates? Do you think there’s one perfect person for everyone? That we’re two halves of a separated whole, destined to find our other half? Or do you believe there are endless possibilities when it comes to love and once we find it, it takes two dedicated souls to make it last?

A soul mate is one’s other half. That one person who makes us whole–a true companion or lover with whom we are meant to spend our lives.

Another definition of a soul mate is someone with whom we share many experiences in different lifetimes. Soul mates can be friends, siblings, parents, or lovers. But with each relationship, there is a deep and abiding love or a spiritual bond that connects the two in a profound and meaningful way.

My youngest daughter believes a soul mate is that one person who can make you happy and fits perfectly in your life–but it doesn’t always work out. She also believes other people can make you happy without being your soul mate.

It’s an interesting philosophy but I disagree. If you’re happy with someone, why would you not believe he/she is your soul mate if you believe in such things? And if you believe you’ve found your soul mate and it doesn’t work out, are you destined to spend your life alone? Or fake happiness with someone else?

Perhaps my daughter believes in soul mates because she’s grown up with two loving parents who love one another, have always been faithful, and were never married to anyone else. But even loving my husband the way I do, I don’t believe in soul mates. I just don’t think there’s one single person out there specifically designed to “complete” us and make us happy.

Frankly, I don’t think anyone should wait around for another person to make them happy. Happiness comes from within, and if you rely on someone else to make you happy, then you’ll spend the rest of your life blaming someone else for your misery.

No, I don’t believe in soul mates, but I am a romantic. And I believe in love at first sight, happily ever after, and true love.

True love is the kind of love you feel when the person you’re with gives you a confidence you never had before. When you find true love, there isn’t a question. You just know it’s right. You may know it the moment you meet, or it may take a while to develop. But whether it’s love at first sight or a love that grows over time, true love comes from a deep and natural affinity between two people who are compatible spiritually, sexually, and emotionally.

True love lasts a lifetime—until death do you part.

I’ve been happily married for thirty years, but I’d hate to think that if one of us died, the other would be left alone and lonely until death. If I died tomorrow, I’d like to think my husband would eventually find someone else to love the way he’s loved me. Love is too special and too wonderful not to believe in second or even third chances.

1 Corinthians 13

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, and it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, and always perseveres.

Love never fails.

And for me, believing in true love is more comforting than believing in soul mates.

So, where do you stand on the soul mate debate?

Leaving a comment today could put you in the running to win a Kindle! This post is part of the Fool For Romance Contest. See contest rules at: http://www.crystalrainlove.com/foolforromance.htm.