In just a few more days, FALLING FOR ZOE, book #1 in The Camerons of Tide's Way series will be out. Here's a bonus peek at Zoe's new beginning....

“Hi, Daddy.” Zoe Callahan’s phone had only been connected for a day and she was surprised to hear her father’s voice on the other end so soon. “What’s up?”

“I see you went through with it.”

“Did you doubt me?”

“Not really. You’re as stubborn as your mother when you get the bit between your teeth, but I didn’t give up hope until your sister called to pass along your new phone number. I still don’t think this is the wisest thing you’ve ever done. You used to be so sensible.”

“I used to be so dull, you mean. I did what was expected of me and didn’t ask questions.”

It hadn’t been entirely her father’s fault that his oldest daughter had lived the life she had until now. When Zoe’s mother had died in childbirth a piece of Patrick Callahan had died with her and in his despair, he’d not realized that it wasn’t fair to expect a thirteen-year-old girl to hold the family together.

But Zoe had done just that. Still reeling with grief, she’d given up the carefree life of a teenager to become the nurturer her siblings so desperately needed. There had been a nanny for the first couple years. After all, Zoe was still in school and Bobby, the newborn needed full time care, but as soon as he was old enough to bundle off to a day-care center the nanny had moved on, and Zoe was in charge.

“Bobby wasn’t happy about having to do his own laundry,” her father went on, ignoring her unflattering self-assessment. “The stains in his baseball uniform wouldn’t come out, and the shirt he wore to church on Sunday looked like it never saw an iron at all.”

“Bobby will be headed to college in a few months,” Zoe reminded her father. “It’s about time he learned how to do his own laundry.”

Zoe rummaged through a box marked kitchen utensils trying to find a spatula to flip her hamburger with. Once supper was over, she was going to finish unpacking the kitchen so at least one room was organized.

“I know a good realtor if you decide this whole home-ownership thing was a bad idea.” Zoe’s dad didn’t give up easily. Probably what made him a good lawyer.

“I already love it here. I’ve met both my neighbors, and it’s a great place to bring up kids. I’ll manage with the house. I always do – manage that is.”

Patrick Callahan snorted on the other end of the phone line. “There’s nothing wrong with Wilmington for bringing up kids if you insist on keeping your baby. And there’s plenty of room in this house.”

“Daddy, we’ve had this argument, and I’m not changing my mind. Okay?”

Another snort.

“Would you like to come out to dinner on Sunday and see my new place for yourself?”

“Maybe another Sunday. The Abstinence Board meets this weekend.”

He hasn’t forgiven me for ignoring his advice. Or for blowing my entire legacy from Grandma on a down payment for this wonderful old house. 

It was on the tip of her tongue to challenge him, but she bit back the retort. Her father was her father, and he wasn’t likely to change. If she wanted her life to go in a new direction, it was up to her. This historic old house was her new beginning.

“I gotta go, Daddy. My dinner’s getting cold. I love you.”

Patrick Callahan grunted something that sounded like goodbye and the line went dead.

Zoe collected her rapidly chilling hamburger and a glass of sweet tea and headed to her porch and her spectacular new view of the waterway and the ocean.

And, as it turned out, an equally spectacular view of her handsome new neighbor, Jake Cameron, who was wielding a weed whacker along the fence that separated their two properties.

As Zoe settled into the ancient rocker, she marveled at the glorious pink and gold colored sea as it reflected the sun sinking slowly toward the western horizon. But then her gaze was drawn back to the man. His sun-streaked hair fell into his face as he worked, and when he tipped his face up to flip the wayward bangs back into place, their eyes met. He grinned and waved.

New beginnings were a good thing. A breathless feeling of excitement surged through Zoe’s chest. New Beginnings were a  great thing.

  Hi folks, It's Michael Bear here again. I promised you an interview with Jake Cameron - that handsome fella that lives next door to the old Jolee place that Zoe Callahan just bought. Poor guy is living in a houseful of females and here comes Zoe - just what he needs, another woman in his life! But he's a good guy with broad shoulders, and you'll just have to read FALLING FOR ZOE to find out how he makes out. (Available by April 5th on Amazon.com and other sites, including this one.)

Hi Jake Cameron, welcome to Blogging on the Beach. Our readers met your new neighbor the other day so now it's your turn to tell us a little about yourself. 

Jake: The name’s Jake Cameron. I’m 34, single again, although I didn't choose to be, and I have three little girls. Well, one of them isn’t so little. She’s 15 going on 21 and it scares the bejeesus out of me. I want to protect her forever, but I’m beginning to realize I can’t and it’s killing me. She’s my little girl, you know? And there’s the twins. They’re five and cute as the dickens. They say the funniest things sometimes, and they always make me smile. I don’t know what life would be like without my girls. I wanted to get a degree in Engineering, but things didn’t work out how I planned. So, I worked my way up from the bottom, and now I’m a construction site manager. I like working out of doors and the job fits. On the side I’m a volunteer fireman. Makes me feel like I’m giving someting back to my community. I’ve got one sister and three brothers. My parents live over on the island and I’m lucky to have such a great family that’s always been there for me. I like kayaking on the sound and fishing, but don’t get much time for either. I didn’t do much to deserve it, but I’m a pretty lucky guy.

Michael: Is there anything  your creator doesn’t know about you?

Jake: Yeah, there’s probably a lot she doesn’t know about me. After all, I’m a guy and she’s not. There are guy things women just don’t get. But the biggest thing?  I guess that would have to be that scene she wrote where I confessed to seducing Marsha Jolee. I did a lot of dumb things back then, but one thing my mom and dad insisted on was whatever else I did, I was going to be a gentleman. So, I let everyone believe it was me that conned Marsha into sneaking off into the bleachers for a little necking party instead of the other way around. Anyway, one thing led to another, and she got pregnant, and that was just as much my fault as hers, but I figured if I took the heat it would go easier on her. That’s the biggest thing Skye Taylor doesn’t know about me. 

Michael: If there was one thing you could change about your life, what would it be?

Jake: Well, like I said a minute ago, I should have kept my pants zipped when I was seventeen, but back then I thought I was invincible.  But since then? My plans for college at UNC got shelved to be a dad, and I should have gone to night school. It always felt like I didn’t have the time what with earning a living and taking care of my family and everything. But that's one thing I regret. 

Michael: When you were a kid did you have a favorite hero? Someone you wanted to grow up to be just like?

Jake: My dad was my hero. He knew everything and everyone looked up to him. Besides my mom told me he was her hero and she never told me anything that wasn’t true. He's still my hero. I just wish I was half the man he is.

Michael: Is there a movie or TV show that's a big favorite, or made a big impression on you?

Jake: Saving Private Ryan was definitely a movie that made a difference in my life. Not the movie so much as what it taught me. Back when I was in school, history wasn't my favorite subject and WWII seemed like ancient history, but this movie made me think about the things my grandfather must have lived through. He never talked about it much, but he was one of the men who went ashore on Omaha Beach on D-day. Granda was one of my heroes, too. Even more so after I saw that movie.

Michael: If you could live anywhere in the world, where would you choose to live?

Jake: Right here in Tide’s Way. It’s where all my family is, except my brother, Philip, but when he comes home, this is where he comes home to. Most of my aunts and uncles live close by over in Wilmington. It's a big family, but I like it that way. I love the ocean and it’s right there where I can see it from my porch. I like knowing everyone in town. It’s a great place to bring my girls up in. I can’t imagine living anywhere else.

Michael: What advice would you like to share with your readers?

Jake: I'm the last person who should be giving anyone advice. I pretty much learned everything the hard way, making the wrong choices first and then having to live with them or work even harder to put things right. But maybe I’d tell them to keep an open mind and don’t let the mistakes you made in the past keep you from taking a chance when something good comes along. One other thing I've learned is that the only way to get past the things you’re afraid of is to face them head on.

Michael: Somehow, I don't get the feeling there's much you're afraid of. Being a volunteer fireman must take courage, more than most jobs anyway. 

Jake: (chuckling) You'd be surprised how many things scare the pants off me. I just learned how to hide it. Most of the time.  

Michael: Well, it's been nice chatting with you Jake. I wish you well with that sassy, sexy little package that just moved in next door. And try not to worry too much about that teenage daughter. She seems like a fine young lady. 

  Next week, FALLING FOR ZOE, book 1 in Skye Taylor's Camerons of Tide's Way series will be available on Amazon.com. But I thought you might like to meet Miss Zoe Callahan ahead of time. Tomorrow, I'll interview Jake Cameron, but today is the heroine's turn. Ladies first. In case you're wondering about me, I'm a small bear who's been everywhere with Skye Taylor, even in her pocket when she jumped out of a perfectly good airplane. She took me to the South Pacific when she served in the Peace Corps and all through Southeast Asia on her way home. I've been to Ireland and Paris, too. So, trust me, I'm in on most of her secrets and I know things even she doesn't know.

Michael: Hi Miss Callahan and welcome to Blogging on the Beach. Tell our readers a little bit about yourself.

Zoe: Where do I begin? Let's see, I'm a little bit of Scots and a little bit who knows what but mostly Irish, but then maybe you already guessed that from the name and the freckles and this awful red hair. I’m twenty-seven and completely unattached, but I haven’t given up hope of finding Mr. Right some day. My mom died when I was thirteen, and I was the oldest so I’ve been the lady of the house more than half my life and didn’t have a lot of time for dating and worrying about myself. But that’s about to change. My baby brother is off to college soon, and I just signed away my life to buy my very own home. It needs some work, but I fell in love with it the first time I saw it. I love to imagine my children growing up in this wonderful old house and here in this friendly little town of Tide’s Way. I recently broke up with the guy my father was hoping I’d marry so Dad’s not too happy with me right now.  Porter wasn’t the man I hoped he was, but the less said about him, the better. I work for a really super woman in an Edward Jones office. She’s the Financial Advisor, I do everything else and we have a great partnership. Oh, and I just rescued three pooches from the local shelter. I thought it would be nice to have a dog around now that I would be living on my own, but when I visited the shelter right after they had a big pet adoption event, there were only three pups left. There they were, looking at me with these pleading eyes. How could I choose just one and leave the other two behind? So, life is a little hectic just now, but I’m looking forward to a whole new beginning for all of us.

Michael: Is there anything Skye doesn’t know about you?

Zoe: She has no idea where my name came from. She already knew a lot about me as the story started plotting in her head, but my name popped out of nowhere. She never met anyone named Zoe, but Zoe is Greek and it means alive. And here I was, suddenly alive and helping to write my own story. 

Michael: If there was one thing you would change about your life, what would it be?

Zoe: I wish my mother was still here. I miss her a lot. I know she’s watching out for me from heaven, but that’s not the same as being here where I could hug her any time I wanted. Sometimes I just wish I could talk to her so bad it hurts, you know?

Michael: Yeah, I imagine that's not easy. But back before that, when you were still a kid, who was your favorite heroine?

Zoe: I always wanted to be Heidi. I thought it would be so exciting to live in the Alps and climb the mountain every day with Peter and his goats. She had a lot more freedom than I ever had.

Michael: What’s your favorite movie of all time? 

Zoe: I love the Sound of Music. I went to see it on a stage once, too. But I’ve watched the movie over and over and I never get tired of it. Maybe it’s because I always wanted to be Heidi and live in the mountains like Maria. 

Michael: If you could live anywhere in the world, where would you choose to live?

Zoe: Oh, Gosh. That’s a hard one. I’ve never really been anywhere further away than Washington DC and Florida. The Swiss Alps maybe? But if I lived there, I'd never have found this beautiful old house or met Jake Cameron. 

Michael: What's one thing you've learned about life that you’d like to share?

Zoe: Never give up on your dreams.

Thank you for stopping by Miss Callahan. We'll look forward to your adventures in Tide's Way. Good luck with that big old house and the handsome fella that lives next door. 

Falling for Zoe -  by Skye Taylor, coming out this month from Bell Bridge Books. 

The rumble of a diesel engine and the grinding of gears caught Jake Cameron’s attention. He looked up to see a red and white van with the familiar logo of a well known Wilmington moving company. Thankful for any diversion from the unwelcome feelings stirred up by today’s unsettling mail, Jake tossed the stack of letters onto the bench inside the garage door and stepped back outside to watch the movers.

The big van negotiated the sharp turn between the crumbling old brick gateposts guarding their little cul-de-sac and eased around the grassy little island in the center. Jake whistled in mild astonishment as it pulled to a stop in front of the once elegant Jolee homestead that squatted firmly on the rise between the road and the tidal marsh beyond. The real estate market was still agonizingly sluggish, and the neglected building had been vacant ever since the former owner had passed away. The nineteenth-century homes with antiquated everything just seemed to sit forever waiting for buyers with an interest in the unique and historic, or for investors on the lookout for cheap properties they could fix and flip. 

A battered Toyota pickup truck swung around the van and pulled onto the crushed shell drive. Jake started across his lawn, intending to be neighborly and welcome the new guy on the block, whatever his plan for the place. 

The person who slid out of the driver’s seat took him by surprise. She had a wild mane of reddish-gold curls and a figure to grab any man’s instant attention. Jake hesitated, waiting for a husband to appear from the passenger seat, but none did. The woman turned, saw Jake and flashed him a friendly smile.

“Hi!” the woman called in an engagingly musical voice. “Are you my new neighbor?”

Jake yanked himself out of his momentary confusion and finished covering the distance to the drive. He held out his hand. “If you’re moving into this place, then that would be a yes. Name’s Jake Cameron.”

“Nice to meet you, Jake.” Her eyes traveled down over his paint-stained T-shirt and frayed, khaki shorts and came back to his face with a curious sparkle in their greenish-brown depths that made him wonder if he’d left his fly down. “I’m Zoe Callahan.”

“Sorry, I’m kind of a mess. Been painting.” He forced himself not to check the status of his zipper as he shook her hand briefly before jamming his hands into his pockets.

She wasn’t as young as he’d first thought. Late twenties maybe, or early thirties.  She was attractive in a fresh-faced, girl-next-door sort of way. What, he wondered, could have induced this engaging young woman to buy a house that was going to need an army to put it to rights?

“This time next week, I’ll be the one apologizing.” Zoe jerked her head in the direction of the house. “Everything will need painting inside and out, I’m afraid.”

“It’ll take a lot more than a coat of paint to get this place ready to put back on the market.” Jake studied the peeling paint and derelict railings more closely, reflecting on how really bad it had gotten over the months the house had been vacant.

“Oh, I don’t plan to sell it.” Zoe’s hazel eyes widened in exaggerated enthusiasm.  “I’m here to stay.”

“Is . . . is there a Mr. Callahan?”

“Nope! Just me and the menagerie.”

“The menagerie?” Jake felt buffeted by the level of cheerful energy radiating off the woman.

Zoe waved her hand in the direction of the pickup truck. “Yup. Three dogs, two cats, and Polly. And the fish, of course. The dogs are mine. I inherited the rest when my siblings moved out and left them behind. All except Polly. She was Michael’s but his wife refused to have her around after they were married.”

Jake felt like taking a step backwards. “Wow!” he said weakly, trying to imagine the chaotic atmosphere her menagerie brought with them. Was Polly what it sounded like? He gestured vaguely in the direction of the run-down mansion. “So, you made of money, or what?”

Zoe frowned. “Made of money?”

Jake belatedly realized that his comment was both rude and intrusive, although he hadn’t meant it that way. “Just . . . it’s going to take a ton of money to fix this place up. If there’s no Mr. Callahan . . .”

Zoe’s finely arched brows peaked into a challenge.

Now he was being politically incorrect. Nice way to impress the new neighbor, Cameron!

“You think just because I’m a woman, I can’t handle it?”

“Well, no, ma’am.  I . . . ” Jake fumbled. If he was honest, that was exactly what he’d been thinking. It was a beautiful place. Old, rambling and unique, but it had been left untended for far too long. “It’s just that it needs a lot of work.”

“You sound like my father.” Zoe flipped her hand dismissively.

Sounding like Zoe’s father was clearly not a compliment.

“Sorry,” Jake muttered, mentally chastising himself. The woman definitely had spunk. “It’s really a grand old place. Lots of history. Solidly built. Back when houses were built to last for generations. Here—” He reached for his wallet and dug out a business card. “Maybe you’re already in the business, but if not, I’m in construction. I’d be glad to check it out for you. Give you some estimates. Make sure there aren’t any serious problems you’ll need to address right off. I can steer you in the direction of some good craftsmen. Might even be able help out myself on some of the stuff.”

That’s nice! Really nice. Like I don’t have enough to keep me busy as it is? Yet, even as the warning flashed into his head, his fingers relinquished the card.

Something about Ms. Zoe Callahan had grabbed his attention the moment she’d slid from the truck, and wouldn’t let go. She wasn’t beautiful, at least not in the classic sense. Nor did she appear to be the kind of siren who would be all over his brand new return to bachelorhood. Maybe it was the way her lips turned up at the corners as if she found life amusing and dared everyone else to join her. Or perhaps it was the challenge in her peaked brows, when Jake had questioned her intentions for the classic old home.

What was he thinking? Didn’t he already have a houseful of women who tested his peace and sanity? On a daily basis! Had he really just volunteered to add another?

Zoe studied the card then stuck it in her pocket. “Thanks. I just might have to take you up on it. I’m new at the whole home-owner thing.”

“Hey! Ms. Callahan! You need to get inside and tell the guys where you want things put.” The driver of the van approached with a clipboard in one hand. “And I need your check for the balance due, Ma’am.”

Before Zoe could turn away, Jake opened his mouth. “You have any plans for supper? You haven’t even unpacked yet, and you probably haven’t shopped for any groceries, and you’re bound to be hungry.” He was babbling, and he must sound like an idiot. But her kitchen wouldn’t be ready to cook in until sometime tomorrow at the earliest. There was always room for one more at his table.

Zoe’s mouth stretched into an engaging smile that warmed him right down to his toes and rewarded him for his impulsive offer. “That would be wonderful. What time?”

“Sixish sound okay?”

“Six is great. Any meal I don’t have to prepare myself sounds heavenly.” Zoe flashed him another captivating grin and turned back to the van driver.

What have I done? Jake shook his head in disbelief. The last thing I need is another female in my already crazy life no matter how cute she is. That place is going to need a mountain of fixing up. Jake had the sudden, uneasy conviction that Zoe Callahan’s arrival in his life was going to turn out to be even more unsettling than the arrival of today’s mail.

Actually, Ms Reavis doesn’t really know me. She did thank me for a review I gave one of her books, but that’s all there is as far as our friendship goes. The relationship is really about what I’ve been doing the last couple weeks when I should have been sleeping.

One of the perks of being retired is that I get to sleep in and get up when I feel like it rather than when the alarm clock shrilly demands that I roll out and get busy with my day.  I also get to order my days however I like. I can take the time for a lovely long walk on the beach with the dog, and I can step away from my desk to spend time chatting with neighbors who pass by my little bungalow here at the beach. I can do laundry at 10 am or 10 pm, whenever the notion occurs to me. I can pay my bills all at once and be done with it for the month, or as they come in depending on the whim of the day. And I can jump in my car to do an errand right then and there if I want to. Supper could be anytime, from 5:00pm with friends, to 9:00 when I come up for air after an intense few hours of writing. My life, and I love it, is pretty much spontaneous. All except for my life-long habit of reading in bed.

It’s gotten exponentially easier to read in bed, first with the advent of the Kindle that’s a lot easier to control than an oversized hardcover, or a paperback determined to shut every time my finger slips. But now I read in bed mostly on my iPhone because I don’t even need a bedside light. And because I can hold it endlessly in one hand, flicking the pages with the touch of my thumb.

And here’s where Cheryl Reavis comes in. My habit is to read a chapter before putting the book down and burrowing into the covers to fall asleep. But Ms. Reavis’ books don’t lend themselves to such arbitrary limits. Like Lay’s potato chips that claim you can’t have just one, I can’t read just one chapter. Her characters are so compelling and their stories so enticing, I find myself glancing at the clock and thinking, Well, it’s only 1:00 am. I can read another chapter. Only to glance at the clock a few minutes later to discover it’s 2:30 in the morning. Or 3:15! My sleeping-in lasts well past sunrise (which is later here than many places). And I also find myself aching to take a nap later on in the day. So you think I’d learn. Don’t take one of this lady’s books to bed with me. Grab a Reader’s Digest maybe, or one of those books you know you should read, but find it hard to get into. But for some reason, I’m a slow learner about this particular issue. Eventually I’ll get to the end of her many books in print, and life might get back to normal.

Or not. My life was never all that normal to start with. But in the mean time, I am loving this author’s stories. I’m falling in love with her heroes and rooting for her heroines. So far every book has had a different setting so I get to visit places I’ve never been, some of them in a time I never lived. And I am loving every late night moment.

What author, or authors have you read that you find compelling, enjoyable and worth staying up late to read?

Celebrating the release of a brand new series by a dear friend is always fun. But sharing the news that you can get a super deal on this book today is even better. 

CARLY'S RULE - book one in the new series The Braddocks  

Pastry Chef Carly Braddock only ever loved one man, Luke Donovan, who disappeared from her life years ago, breaking her heart and leaving her to wonder what happened to him.  When he walks into Sugar Plums, her bakery/cafe, and back into her life after all this time, she isn’t in a forgiving mood. Though he doesn’t know it, her experience with him shaped the other relationships in her life and led her to create a rule to protect her heart. What neither counts on is that the chemistry between them is still as fierce and tangible as it was all those years ago, and Carly doesn’t know until her heart is completely involved once again that Luke has kept an important part of his life from her.  When she finds out what it is, she knows she must let him go, and this time for good. Not only did he keep something from her, but he broke the one thing she created to protect her heart . . . Carly’s Rule.

About Ms. King: 

Vickie L. King is originally from a small town in West Virginia. She transplanted to Jacksonville, Florida in 1994, and while she loves living in the sunshine state, now and then she misses watching the seasons go through their changes, and if she closes her eyes, she can still imagine herself standing on the deck of their family home on top of the ridge, staring out over the hills and valleys that will always be a part of her.

She has four grown children, a daughter-in-law and son-in-law, four grandchildren, a Chihuahua named Bentley and the best family and friends anyone could have.

Vickie is previously published in short fiction, with both romance and mystery for Woman’s World Magazine and with a romantic short story for the Sun. She is a member of RWA, and she is active in her local chapter, Ancient City Romance Authors (ACRA), where she serves on the board.

Check out her inteview on Get Lost in a Story. too. 

You’ve probably seen that thing they pass around the internet from time to time about being busy all day and getting nothing done. Each task begun required going somewhere to get something required to complete it and once there came across a reminder for something else that needed doing. But that something also required going on the hunt and so it went, all day and you ended up spending the day chasing your tail. Well, I’ve been there, done that, but today was different.

Over the last couple weeks, months if I get right down to it, there have been a number of things that had to get done before I could devote myself to completing the book currently in progress. A trip to New York, a meeting in Palatka, another in Jacksonville, dentist appointments,  line edits for the book coming out next month, and so it went. But this week was going to be different. IS going to be different. Once I get this blog posted.

I got up this morning with the idea in my head that it was Monday. A brand new day with nothing that needed doing. A brand new week without a single appointment, meeting, or errand. I even have enough food in the house that a trip to the grocery store is not required.  I am going to get soooo much done. I can’t wait.

Except I did have to wait. The usual morning chores like walking the dog, making myself some breakfast and taking my shower came first. And that was where the trouble began. I replaced my smoke detector a few months back and apparently it’s a lot more sensitive than the old one. Being the only one in the house, leaving the bathroom door open when I shower is standard. But this morning, I’m luxuriating in the steamy flow of water when the smoke alarm goes off. Or was it the carbon dioxide one? I turn the water off and grab my towel to investigate. It’s not the CO which is a relief. I really didn’t want to run outdoors dripping wet with nothing but a towel around me. And there is no smoke. Only excessive steam from that lengthy shower. Which wasn’t done yet, my hair hadn’t been rinsed. I pressed re-set and went back to finish the job.

Once dressed, I climbed up to check on the detector which was now beeping three short beeps every two minutes or so. I tried waving a magazine in front of the sensor. No change. I got a stool and took it down, hunted down the hair dryer which gets used for everything BUT drying hair to see if a little warm air would dry the condensate out of it. That seemed to do the trick. But before I got to that point, I’d rummaged through my “stuff” drawer looking for the instruction manual that came with it. Now I had to sort through all the “stuff” I’d hauled out of the drawer and spread across the counter. Might as well sort and toss things that didn’t need keeping.  Good, that’s done. Now for breakfast.

I carried my breakfast to my desk figuring I’d check my email while I ate. And there on the desk, on top of the keyboard where I couldn’t miss it was a reminder to call about my car insurance. Drat!

I could just write a check to the old company, but I’d gotten a couple quotes a few months back that were better. Two weeks ago, I’d called my old company to give them an opportunity to meet those better quotes, but they had never called me back. I grabbed the file and started calling. I’ve got a new company now at a tidy savings. But to save an additional bit, I have to go online and complete a defensive driving study unit. I set up my online account, got the money transferred from my savings account to pay for the annual premium. And while I was at it, had to call the bank because I also have a new computer and the bank didn’t recognize the new equipment and the one-time code to register the new computer didn’t work. Another chunk of my day disappeared.

By the time all was said and done, it was way past lunch. In fact, it’s now half way through the afternoon. A quarter to four, in fact. Where did my pristine day that lay before me like a blanket of fresh fallen snow go? At least I can say I accomplished something! I put fresh batteries in the smoke detector, cleaned out the “stuff” drawer, paid two bills and registered my new computer, and my car is insured for another year. Now it’s time to walk the dog again. Maybe tomorrow? 

No, we weren’t playing poker. Oh, there might have been a deck of two of cards in evidence over the weekend, but the game of choice in our family is usually Toledo Run. Since our family is scattered up and down the eastern coast, most of us had to travel. And most of us stayed at Lori and Nick’s home. So, it was more than just a full house – it was packed. Kids on air mats, adults on pull-out couches, the host kids on the floor in their parent’s bedroom so visiting aunts and uncles and cousins had a place to sleep.

We could find rooms in local hotels, but where would be the fun in that. Instead, the day begins with the waking of the first child, with coffee and bagels in our pajamas, cramming as many minutes with each other as possible into the day or days we are together. And it generally ends with the previously mentioned cards around the dining room table after most of the kids have crashed.

As always when our family gathers there’s lots of excitement, kids running and giggling, and sometimes getting into trouble. The kind of trouble cousins always seem to cook up together. Often the guys gather around whatever game is in season on TV. And there’s always lots of great food and cameras catching all the best moments to save for posterity. We often talk about posterity as if he were another guest but looking back on similar gatherings in the past is always fun and made that much more fun when photos are dragged out to remind us how quickly the kids grow up or how young we all once looked.

(That's Rebecca back when she and Joe were just married. Then, Lori, Rebecca and Alex - Lori must have been about 12 then. And me and my husband Cal with the oldest four, Jeff, Bobbi, Rebecca and Alex. Lori was a twinkle in her daddy's eye at the time.)

This particular family event was Emily Catherine’s baptism. My grandmother’s christening gown, which was made in the 1800s, was carefully washed and every inch of lace and linen ironed for the big day. Tables were set up and food set out for the party afterward – All Nick’s family, who live close enough to come for the day would be doubling our numbers. Considering it was a private baptism, a remarkable portion of the pews were filled in this big church. My new grandson-in-law and another granddaughter’s boyfriend were recruited for altar-boy duties which they carried off with aplomb. And Emily Catherine became the newest member of Christ’s family.

We were fortunate that in spite of the time of year and the unusually snowy winter, everyone was able to get there and home without weather related problems. Now we’re all looking forward to our family week at the lake this summer. 

My first book was written in pencil on yellow legal pads. My only distractions (I say that like they were a minor distraction) were three little kids under five. All my research was done at the library and what I didn’t know, I made up. Luckily for everyone, that book is lurking somewhere that the sun no longer shines. Even I don’t want to look at just how awful it probably was. My next book was penned, so to speak, on a computer, and I did have a dial-up email account, but the research for that was still done either in libraries or books I purchased and devoured at home. That second book was completed in thirty days. All 92,000 words. I lived in that book. I ate, drank, slept and dreamed that book for thirty uninterrupted days. By then I was a widow, the last of my kids was off to college and I’d just been laid off and remained out of work for ten months. There were NO distractions. My only breaks were when I sat down to share with my critique partner. 

Compare that with the book I’m writing now. In between that book and this, about ten manuscripts later, I’ve graduated down to a laptop that goes everywhere with me, I have high speed Internet WiFi, and Facebook happened. In many ways all the endless easy access we have today is a good thing. I can research just about anything right from my laptop here at home, in the airport, or on the beach. I can visit libraries I’d never be able to get to physically and find arcane bits of trivia from just about any era. I can learn how a composting toilet works, or how swords were made in the middle ages. A few clicks of the mouse and I have the line-up for the Boston Red Sox game played on September 7^th in 1970, all the gory details of the OJ Simpson trial or who became King of England after the Battle of Hastings in 1066. I can even call up satellite maps and photos so I know just what things look like. It’s mind-boggling and amazing. How did I ever write anything without it?

On the other hand, all this connectivity is distracting. When I first started writing on a computer, if I stared at my work-in-progress long enough and nothing happened, I could hop over and play a game of solitaire or ten. There were other distractions like Sammy the Snake (I know, now I’m dating myself) but on the whole that palled relatively quickly and I was back to staring at my half written manuscript waiting for ideas and words to percolate onto the page. My characters and their problems were so much easier to stay involved with. Today is so very different.

Every day I jump out of bed with the idea that I am going to get soooo much written today. I scramble into some clothes and take the dog for a walk, then make my breakfast and carry it to my study. I’ll read my email while I eat. But reading the email is just the beginning. Then I have to check Facebook. And sometimes Goodreads, or Pinterest or God knows there are so many places to check. Friends post links to interesting books I might want to buy, or clips and videos I just have to see. There are blogs to read and interesting articles about just about anything. Next thing I know, my stomach is telling me it’s hungry. How on earth did it get to be 2:30 in the afternoon already??? Where did that whole long pristine day go? I haven’t even opened up my WIP yet. And the dog wants to go for another walk. The tide is out and the beach is calling. Lunch is calling, too. By the time all these things are taken care of, it’s late afternoon and the day is more than half gone.

The saving grace for me is that the hours between four pm and ten pm are my most productive hours anyway. But I still have to discipline myself to disconnect from the internet and pay attention. My laptop has a function that puts all that stuff in the background and even stifles the little dings that normally tell me I have mail, or someone’s posted to my FB page. I just have to turn it on. AND leave my smartphone out of earshot and out of sight. My phone has even more distractions than my laptop.

There’s good and bad in everything and the Internet is no different. For a writer, it can be the biggest boon with enormous potential, helping to expand our platform and learn about our craft. But it can also be the biggest distraction. 

The holidays were good to me this year and I have a lot to be thankful for. My flight north on Christmas Eve was only delayed by a couple hours, and I arrived in a land sparkling with new snow. What could be nicer than a white Christmas? Better yet, my son’s new family room had the most gorgeous tree with twinkling lights reflected in all the windows and a lovely fireplace to cozy up to. Stockings had been hung and a snack set out for Santa. All I had to do was settle in and enjoy.

Which I did. Very much. Christmas is always more exciting with children and their innocent pleasure in the magic of the day. Then, on the Saturday after Christmas my granddaughter, Anna Rose, was baptized and the entire family gathered to celebrate with her. All my kids but one and all my grandkids but two. The perfect ending for a year filled with blessings.

My flight home was scheduled for Jan 2^nd at 8:04 pm. By New Year’s Eve it was clear that a big snowstorm was on it’s way to New England. I called Jet Blue to see if I could fly out the night before the storm, but alas, that was going to cost me so I declined. Then on New Year’s Day when I logged onto the internet to check in, instead of having my boarding pass pop up, an 800 number appeared advising me to call and change my flight - no fees would be charged. I wanted to say, I told you so..... but I didn’t. I claimed one of three seats left on the first flight out the next morning. Then the evening news reported the snow, which I’d thought wasn’t going to start until mid-day, was going to begin in the wee hours before dawn.

My son got up an hour earlier than planned and drove through dark streets already covered with snow and far more traffic than I would have guessed at that hour of the morning, but he got me to the airport on time. As it turned out the plane I was to fly out on did NOT get to the airport on time. Instead, a flight bound for Tampa that was supposed to be gone a half hour ago still sat at the gate. But it finally left and my plane arrived. An hour later than scheduled, we were all in our seats and ready to push back, but......the door remained open! What now? Apparently the pilot had filed a new flight plan. I’m not sure, but I think it had to do with the gathering storm. FAA rules require that the actual physical paperwork must be delivered to the cockpit before the plane can push back from the terminal. I have no idea where these were generated, but I swear it had to be somewhere in South Boston and there was a bicycle currier involved. Why else should it take an hour for the paperwork to arrive? 

When the paperwork was finally delivered to the cockpit, the pilot announced it would be just a few more minutes before we headed out to the de-icing area. What he didn’t tell us (probably fearing a revolt) was that the de-icing line was an hour long. This area, where men sitting in little enclosed cages at the ends of long, hinged booms and armed with high volume nozzles that spray two different chemical mixtures to first rid the plane of built up snow, then keep it clear of ice until it can get into the air, is right at the end of the runway. As we pulled into that line we could still see the buildings on the far side of the runway, but by the time our turn came around, the visibility was closing in fast. The snow was gathering momentum.

Before we boarded the plane there were already quite a few delays and several cancellations showing on both arrival and departure boards. By the time we roared down the runway and into the air at 11:30 (only 3 hours and 10 minutes behind schedule,) I wondered how many more cancellations had been posted. As it turns out, I was fortunate to get out at all. The entire airport was closed down later in the day and well before my originally scheduled flight. It might have been cloudy and spitting rain when I stepped out of the terminal in Jacksonville, but it was great to be back in Florida and even sweeter to shed all the heavy clothes I’d layered on earlier and head home in my shirtsleeves. 

Christmas and New Years were good to me, but so were the forces that brought me home. Thanks to my son who not only drove to work so he could drop me at the airport but then had to drive home at the end of his day in the height of the storm (he usually takes public transportation.) It took over two hours to drive what should have taken 30 minutes. Thanks to all the workers at Logan who put up with frustrated travelers and labored to get us off. Thanks to the pilot and his crew. And Thank You God that I live in St Augustine.