Saturday, June 25, 2016

Hope

Loneliness
We've all felt it
All been there
Sometimes it feels like it steals away my breath
How does one go on when
Every breath is a chore
When even a casual comment
Means something else to the one who receives it
When tears blind us to sight
And reason is a lifetime or a light year away
Nights are the hardest
When we're alone with our thoughts
Of what could have been
If only

But wait
I am stronger than this
I will find myself in the darkest night
Pull through not only for myself but those lost in the dark with me
For I know that the sun will rise tomorrow
I will face the day with my head held high
You cannot bring me down
For I am made of sterner stuff
I will make a new world for myself and those who stand with me
A world where we can all be ourselves without fear
A better world where night is celebrated as a close to a beautiful day
When we open our hearts, love will follow

Love will always be stronger than hate
If we stand together then we are never truly alone
Stand with me, united in love and understanding
Living starts with a choice
Choose to live happily under your terms
Those who truly care for you will follow suit

Friday, June 24, 2016

Top Ten Favorite Paranormal Stories by Tena Stetler, Author of A Witch's Journey


Welcome to Tena Stetler, author of A Witch's Journey! She's here with a top 10 list!

Favorite Ten Paranormal Stories

Oh, my, there are so many, but I’ll try to narrow it down to ten as requested.

Molly Harper  is a snarky funny writer.  You can sit down and fall into her books and enjoy a few hours of wonderful entertainment, laugh out loud fun.
How to Flirt With A Naked Werewolf
How to Seduce A Naked Werewolf

Nora Roberts, her O’Dwyer Trilogy was so much fun and magic.  Always wondering what curve she was going to throw at you next.  I loved the hawking, the horses and the wonderful delightful characters.
The Cousins O’Dwyer Trilogy

Debra Harkness,  All Souls Trilogy – I loved the what she presented the characters and the settings.  I was never much for historical books, but Debra’s tales of 1593 and the things that went on I found interesting,  in Shadow of Night.  I really enjoyed all three books but the ones listed below were my favorites.
Discovery of Witches
Shadow of Night

Rhyannon Byrd’s Blood Runner’s Series – I have all the books in the series, but Last Wolf Standing was my favorite.  A werewolf trying to impress a mortal woman and failing miserably was amusing.  Her world building and characterization is fantastic.  
Last Wolf Standing

Silver Ravenwolf – This is a book that is hard to describe, but I loved it.  The magic, the witches experiences draw you into the story and hold on.
Murder at Witches Bluff

Angie Fox – If you haven’t noticed the thread through all the books I enjoy is humor.  Angie  writes hilarious and spicy books.The situations and characters reactions were laugh out loud funny, as  her heroine a reluctant demon slayer marries a more than sexy greek hunk who is not as he seems. Again, I own the entire series and love all of them, but the one listed below is my favorite except her first book was a great interdiction to the series.
My Big Fat Demon Slayer Wedding

Nancy Atherton – Aunt Dimity Series _ This is a quirky Rags to Riches series with a ghost that communicates via written word in a notebook. An American woman who inherits a cottage in England and lots of fun adventures abound in a quaint English village with eccentric characters. It’s a cozy mystery series.
Aunt Dimity’s Death
      Aunt Dimity & The Village Witch

Yay! Some new books to add to my TBR list! Thanks Tena :)


A Witch's Journey

Tena Stetler

Paranormal Romance
June 15, 2016


Pepper McKay comes from a long line of powerful witches. Unfortunately, magic brings her nothing but trouble. She learned the love of wildlife rescue and rehab from her Aunt Ashling. After graduating from college, Pepper works for Salem Wildlife Sanctuary and lives from paycheck to paycheck until she inherits the McKay property in Lobster Cove. With the family land and resources, she dares to dream of starting her own wildlife rescue and rehabilitation center.

Lathen Quartz, a former Navy SEAL turned handyman maintains the enchanted McKay property for the McKay estate. But someone is trying to steal the McKay magic. Lathen offers to help Pepper achieve her life-long dream of building a wildlife center. During the long hours spent together on the project, their mutual attraction can’t be denied. But each harbors a deep, dark secret. Will they overcome their demons and give love a chance?






Tena Stetler is a paranormal romance and cozy mystery author with an over-active imagination.  She wrote her first vampire romance as a tween, to the chagrin of her mother and the delight of her friends. With the Rocky Mountains outside her window, Tena sits at her computer surrounded by a wide array of paranormal creatures telling her their tales. Colorado is her home; shared with her husband of many moons, a brilliant Chow Chow, a spoiled parrot and a forty-year-old box turtle.  Any winter evening, you can find her curled up in front of a crackling fire with a good book, a mug of hot chocolate and a big bowl of popcorn.

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Thursday, June 23, 2016

Cover Reveal: Fall of Thrones and Thorns by Jennifer Ellision


Fall of Thrones and Thorns
Jennifer Ellision
(Threats of Sky and Sea #3)

Publication date: September 27th 2016
Genres: Fantasy, Young Adult

War hurtles in, a typhoon over the sea.
After Bree’s life was torn apart, Nereidium had represented a haven to her. A place that—if she could save it—was beyond the King’s reach.
And, at last, she’s arrived upon its shores. But things in Nereidium are not what they should be.
The land is plagued by a rash of mysterious earthquakes, the likes of which it’s never known. The governors are distracted by old traditions, while Bree and her friends grapple with changing identities and the sense that the longer they wait to take action… the greater the danger from Egria grows.
Bree is tired of living under the shadow of King Langdon’s power. And she’s tired of waiting for him to be the first to act.
In this final chapter of the Threats of Sky and Sea series, it all comes down to Nereidium or Egria. To Bree or the King. It’s kill… or be killed.
And not everyone will escape the battle unscathed.
Previous books in the series:
20498423 Beautiful woman with katana isolated on the white background




Author Bio:
Jennifer Ellision spent a great deal of her childhood staying up past her bedtime with a book and a flashlight. When she couldn't find the stories she wanted to read, she started writing them. She loves words, has a soft spot for fanfiction, and is a master of the fangirl flail. She resides in South Florida with her family, where she lives in fear of temperatures below 60 Fahrenheit

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Wednesday, June 22, 2016

New Release: Gem Apocalypse by Ruth Silver

Gem-Apocalypse-BIG

Gem Apocalypse
by Ruth Silver

Released: June 15, 2016
Publisher: Lazy Day Publishing

At seventeen, Aria Stone has broken the laws of her kingdom by refusing to come to court and offer herself as a courtesan. When guards storm Aria's house and murder her mother, she is drugged and dragged from her home, taken to the royal palace. Aria must accept her fate: be chosen by a prince of Brayleigh or die. Prince James is third in line for the throne and forced to follow and obey his father's rule. King Gideon is known for running the country and his household with a strict hand. When the prince discovers the young woman brought in by the royal militia, she peaks his interest, and his desire to bring her to his harem. Aria awakens at the palace and is forced to strip down and bare herself to the king and his four sons. Humiliation is just the beginning of her journey to survive. In a tale of murder, heartbreak, lust, and betrayal, Aria must come to terms with the life forced upon her, just as a prince of Brayleigh must recognize his power to change a corrupt system and discover the world outside of their kingdom. Recommended for readers 16+


Excerpt

Aria sneered at James. “Tell me you don’t believe it.” Emeralds, people with green eyes, were known to be power and money hungry. Did James think that about her? It was not true. No part of the belief system created to destroy the world in genocide was true. How could James think of her like that? She may not be easy or pleasant at times, but she wasn’t what the enemy said.

James shifted in his seat. “Of course not, but you are trouble. I can see it in you, the rebellious streak. My father will beat it out of you if you are not careful.”

She did not let his words hurt her. They were mere threats. King Gideon did not have to know of her struggle or her disloyalty to the crown. “So what? I’m supposed to pretend it doesn’t bother me that he ordered the execution of my mother and dragged me from my home, drugged me, stripped me naked, and stole my freedom? No part of what you and your father are doing is okay.” Did he not see the problem or was he too blinded by the gems and riches that he was given?

James grimaced. “I am sorry about your mother. I can’t change our world, but I can protect you here. If you will let me.”

Aria stood. The longer she spent time with James the faster he seemed to be growing on her nerves. “I don’t need your protection.” She thought August or Henry would have been a poor choice to be paired with as a courtesan, but James seemed to be the winner in pissing her off. She would have been happier not discussing her life, pretending to be another girl like Lucie or Adalyn.

“Where are you going?” James asked. He stood and followed after her as she headed inside.

“Back to my room. Which is where?” Aria asked, feeling turned around. Aria hadn’t learned the halls of the palace. It wasn’t as though she was freely allowed to explore the area.

James reached for her arm, pulling her closer, his hand grazing her hip as he leaned in to kiss her.
How dare he! The nerve of him. She elbowed him away, forcefully, before smacking him across the face. “Do not dare touch me ever, without my permission!”  


About the Author

Ruth Silver first began writing poetry as a teenager and reading heaps of fan fiction in her free time.
She attended Northern Illinois University in 2001 and graduated with a Bachelor's in Communication. While in college she spent much of her free time writing with friends she met online and penning her first novel, "Deuces are Wild", which she self-published in 2004. Her favorite class was Creative Writing senior year where she often handed in assignments longer than the professor required because she loved to write and always wanted to finish her stories. Her love of writing, led her on an adventure in 2007 to Melbourne, Australia. Silver enjoys reading and sharing her favorite books with other readers. She runs her own book blog and also enjoys photography and traveling. She currently also writes adult romance novels under the name Allison West.

   

Tuesday, June 21, 2016

Summer Dreaming $250 Giveaway

This is that time of year when I really miss living in San Diego or Santa Barbara. Perhaps I'm just a beach girl at heart... but there's nothing better than sitting near the ocean on a warm day and feeling the cool spray of the salt water on your face.

Now if only I could find a bottle on the beach with that much cash in it ;)


Summer Dreaming Cash

Summer Dreaming
$250 Cash Giveaway
June 21st to July 15th

An awesome group of bloggers and authors have joined with me to bring you one fabulous prize! One lucky winner will receive… $250 Amazon.com Gift Code or $250 in Paypal Cash   Thanks to these fabulous Sponsors!!



Giveaway Details
$250 in Paypal Cash or a $250 Amazon.com eGift Card Ends 7/15/16 Open only to those who can legally enter, receive and use money sent via Paypal. Winning Entry will be verified prior to prize being awarded. No purchase necessary. You must be 18 or older to enter or have your parent enter for you. The winner will be chosen by rafflecopter and announced here as well as emailed and will have 48 hours to respond or a new winner will be chosen. This giveaway is in no way associated with Facebook, Twitter, Rafflecopter or any other entity unless otherwise specified. The number of eligible entries received determines the odds of winning. Giveaway was organized by Kathy from I Am A Reader and sponsored by the authors, bloggers and publishers on the sponsor list. VOID WHERE PROHIBITED BY LAW. 

Monday, June 20, 2016

The Cinderella Theorem by Kristee Ravan - Excerpt & Giveaway



The Cinderella Theorem

by Kristee Ravan

Genre: YA Fantasy/Fairy Tale Retellings
Release Date: May 2016

Summary:


Fairy tales are naturally non-mathematical. That is a fact, and fifteen-year-old Lily Sparrow loves factual, mathematical logic. So when her mother confesses that Lily’s deceased father is (a) not dead, (b) coming to dinner, and (c) the ruler of a fairy tale kingdom accessible through the upstairs bathtub, Lily clings to her math to help her make sense of this new double life (1 life in the real world + 1 secret life in the fairy tale world = a double life). 

Even though it’s not mathematical, Lily finds herself being pulled into a mystery involving an unhappy Cinderella, a greasy sycophant called Levi, and a slew of vanishing fairy tale characters. Racing against the clock, with a sound mathematical plan, can Lily save her fairy tale friends before they vanish forever?


Buy Links:

Excerpt


Chapter 1


“Lily,” Mrs. Price, my guidance counselor, flashed a fake smile. “You have forgotten to put any fun in your schedule. Why don’t I switch you out of Geometry and put you in Health and Careers? Lots of students say this is a fun class…” She let that last part dangle in the air, like a worm on a hook.
I don’t like worms on hooks. “No thanks.”
Mrs. Price shifted in her seat, still smiling. “And this class will help you discover what you’re good at as you explore your career options.”
Chatting with a woman who can’t recite the Pythagorean Theorem isn’t exactly how I thought I would be spending my first day of high school. “I know what I want my career to be.”
Mrs. Price sat up straighter, leaning forward. “Oh, and what is that?”
“I want to do pure mathematics research at a major university or be a code breaker for the National Security Agency.”
Her eyebrows arched. I think she thought I was going to say I want to be a doctor when I grow up or I want to be an artist.
“Lily,” Mrs. Price said slowly, “Are your parents pressuring you to take more math classes?”
“No.” I folded my arms across my chest. Mrs. Price has incorrectly assigned two parents to me. This can lead to an error in the equation of my family.[i]

1 Lily + 1 mother = the Sparrow family.
The Sparrow family ≠ 1 Lily + 1 mother + 1 father.[ii]

“Lily, if you don’t want to take these extra math classes, you don’t have to. Your parents can’t make you.”
“I want to take Geometry.”
“Lily,” Mrs. Price paused dramatically. “Do you know that you can talk to me about anything?”
Is that supposed to make me open up to her? Mrs. Price has not equalized her equation. She assumes: one simple reminder of being able to talk to her = me sharing my deepest beliefs and ideas.
I sighed, rolling my eyes. “Mrs. Price, no one is pressuring me to take math classes. I just like math, that’s all.”
Mrs. Price frowned. “I had hoped you would agree with me, Lily, and change your mind about these classes, because I’m afraid I can’t allow you to jeopardize your academic career with difficult classes that will cause you extra stress. Besides, our school district frowns upon students taking more than one math course a year. I’m going to switch you from Geometry to Health and Careers, from Statistics to Tennis, and from Pre-Calculus to Legendary Literature. This will be a much less stressful class load for you.”
It was my turn to frown. Scowl, actually. “How exactly are Health and Careers, Tennis, and Legendary Literature going to help me in life?” I was especially disgusted with Legendary Literature. Tennis was at least active and I suppose Health and Careers could–at the very least–be informative.
“Lily, I’m sure you’ll enjoy these classes. Other students in this school have rated these electives as some of their favorites. Now, run on back to class.” She returned my schedule card, all marked up and practically math free.
Can I have a look at population and sample data used to arrive at this conclusion? Other students in this school do not want to be mathematicsresearchers. Other students in this school do not understand that mathematics is fundamental to all life. Other students in this school do not love math. I do.
Mrs. Price called cheerily, “Oh, I almost forgot. Happy birthday, Lily!”
Yeah, what a great start to my birthday. Resigned to my mathless fate, I walked back to class figuring out how many days were left until I graduated and escaped to college.

4 years x the 180 days required by the state = 720 days – the ½ a morning I wasted arguing with Mrs. Price about the joy of mathematics = 719 ¾ days.[iii]

~~~

My mother is a famous writer (in this equation, famous = distracted). For some reason, that I have not been able to calculate, being a famous writer makes it difficult to focus on any one thing for extended periods of time, including daughters’ birthdays. Writing is not as exact as math.
To combat her distraction, I mark my birthday on every calendar in the house. It’s not so much that Mom forgets my birthday. It’s that she gets distracted while planning. This year, I took an additional precaution: I changed her screen saver to “LILY’S BIRTHDAY IS THURSDAY!!!!!”
So, having solved the problem of the distractedness, we are usually ready to proceed with normal birthday celebrations. I say usually because there are occasionally book signings or tours that cause further issues. This year, however, there were none of these kinds of complications.
That is not to say that there were no complications.
There was, in fact, a huge one.
I came home from school intending to go out to dinner with my mother. That is a normal, mathematical way to celebrate a birthday. I grabbed a handful of pretzels from a bowl on the counter and popped my head into Mom’s office to say hello. (Mom’s office = a cluttered, messy room full of unorganized paper scraps that contain notes about her stories.)
Mom smiled at me. “How was school?”
“Not enough math.” I munched a pretzel. “What time are we going out tonight?”
“Going out?” Mom’s voice was quieter, distracted. She was sinking back into her novel.
“For dinner? For my birthday?”
Eyes fixed on her computer screen, she answered, “No. Matt is bringing dinner.”
“Matt? Matt who?” I quickly ran a mental index of my mother’s friends, acquaintances, and contacts for a Matt.
Mom gasped, covered her mouth with her hand, and mumbled, “Oh! It was supposed to be a surprise! What am I—”
“Mom!” I grabbed her shoulders, crushing a pretzel in my palm. “Stop. Who is Matt? Explain logically.”
She nodded. “Okay. Let’s sit down.” She led the way to the living room, and sat beside me on the couch, patting me on the back. “The thing is, Lily, I don’t want to explain too much without your father. He—”
“Wait. What?” I interrupted. “My father?”
“Oh! Fiddlesticks! I did it again! Matt’s going to kill me. I do fine for fifteen years and blow it on the last day. Why am I—”
“Mom!”
“Right. Well,” she took a breath. “To begin, I should say that your father is not dead.”
“But, he is dead. You told me that he died–that the train he was on hit a cow.”[iv]
“No, Sweetie.” She patted my knee. “He’s not dead. He is alive and he’s coming to dinner.”
“I don’t understand. The train wrecked, the cow died, Dad died. You showed me the channel 6 news footage.”
Mom sighed. (Why is she sighing? Did she think that I would automatically understand? Did I miss the Lily, your dad is not dead memo?) “There was a train wreck, a cow did die. And it was on the news. But your father was not on the train.”
I took a deep breath and tried to sort out the emotions that started crowding my brain. Shock and disbelief—what she’s saying can’t be possible—can it? Joy and happiness, too—my dad’s alive!
But years of dealing with my mom have made me logical.  One of us has to stay focused, so I pushed all the emotions down and focused on gathering more data. “Okay. Where was he?”
“He wants to explain all this to you, and he should be the one to do it. Can we just leave it at: he’s not dead, and he’s coming to dinner tonight?”
“But why did you tell me he was dead?”
“It was safer for everyone if you thought that. But, Lily, your father can explain this a lot better than me.” She stood up. “Now, I need to work on getting the prince to fall in love with the princess, and you should probably get your homework done before dinner. I’m sure you’re going to have a lot to talk about with your dad.” She turned to go back to the office.
Are you kidding me? That’s the end of the conversation?
I followed Mom into her office.  “But you lied to me.”
She sank into her chair, sighing.  “Lily. There will be a lot of discussion about this tonight.  Please.  Let’s just wait until then.”  She added in a lower voice, “I wasn’t supposed to have to do this alone. It was so stupid of me to slip up.”
“So, we’re not going to talk about it now?”
“Lily! I have a deadline.  You have homework. Go do it!”
“Fine.” I slammed the door on my way out.

~~~

Mom was wrong to assume I had homework. It was the first day of school. We wasted most of the day with passing out textbooks and going over rules. I spent my “homework” time analyzing the events of the afternoon.[v] Specifically, I needed to place Mom’s shocking new variables into the equation of Lily’s Life.

Lily = a 5 foot, normal, freshman girl, who has shoulder length
blonde hair, green eyes, and a distracted mother.

The new variables that now had to be put into my equation are A = my father is alive and B = my mother is a liar.
A and B are dependent upon one another. For instance, my mother is proved to be a liar (B), because my father is alive (A). My father’s being alive (A) was a secret because my mother is a liar (B).
How is that normal?
Statistically speaking, teenagers should have parents who create supportive environments for them to grow in during their difficult, formative years. This is the mathematically proven way of success.[vi]
How are a dead father, who is not dead, and a mother, who is a liar, supportive? What teenager sits around on her fifteenth birthday trying to think of questions to ask her mother about her used-to-be-dead father?
I was led to believe my father died in a bizarre train/cow accident two days before I was born. I always thought of it like this:

After the accident = (Amtrak – 1 train) + (Lily – 1 father) + (Farmer Jones – 1 cow)

But none of this matters now, since my father is not actually dead. How unfortunate there isn’t enough time in the Plan of Lily’s Life to have therapy discussing cows, liars, and fathers.
I dug around in the bottom of my closet looking for The Box my mother gave me for my fifth birthday. It contains everything I know about my father and once upon a time, I thought it was the best birthday present ever.[vii] When I was younger, I kept The Box beside my bed. I was very afraid of the dark as a child and having The Box next to me gave irrational comfort. (Mom leaving the hall light on helped, too.) But as I grew older and no longer needed The Boxbeside me to sleep, I put it away in my closet, getting it out less and less to look at the items and think about my father. And this past year, I hadn’t even looked at The Box since my last birthday.
I blew the dust off, slowly opening the lid to hear the creak of the hinges. I like that sound. The Box has a tarnished keyhole, but the key was lost before I ever had it. I ran my fingers over the lid, feeling the words carved on the smooth wooden surface:
Our Only Protector
HRHMS
When I asked my mother about the words on The Box, she said she didn’t know what they meant; Dad had never explained them to her. (She was probably lying.)
There are three items in The Box–three tangible, mathematical facts about my father. The first is a solid blue marble, the color of a tropical island lagoon or something else that is blue.[viii] My mother told me the marble was my dad’s. He was so good at marbles as a boy that marble playing at his school stopped, because no one could beat him.
I decided that I, too, would become skilled at marble playing. I got pretty good, but marbles was not a game children played at my school, so I mostly played by myself.[ix] (My mother would sometimes play with me, usually whenever she needed a break from her characters.) But I never played with the blue marble. In my elementary school mind, I reasoned that I would save the blue marble for the game I would one day play with my father. (At seven, mathematical facts, like the surety of death are not overly important.) I do, however, find considerable irony in the fact that, now (apparently), I can play that game with my dear old dad.
The second item in The Box is an antique brass doorknob my father used when he proposed to my mother. He said, “I am giving you the doorknob to my heart because you are the only one who can open it,” or something else equally sugary and romantic. Even though romance is too abstract to be mathematical, I always thought this was a tremendously clever way to say “I love you.” (Evidently, so did Mom.)
The third item in The Box is a letter from my father to me. It was written the day before he “died” or whatever the new story will be. (For all I know, my mother could have written the letter. She is, after all, a writer.) This is what he “wrote”:

Dear Future Sparrow Child:
I wanted to take a moment to write down what I am feeling at this moment. I am rather excited and pleased that in a few days (or maybe less!) I will officially be your Father! I wanted to let you know that you are coming into a wonderful family. Your mother will dream up wonderful stories to tell you, and I will help you explore this New World of yours. We are going to have a grand adventure together. I can’t wait to see you! I am counting the minutes until I can be
Your Father

Now that Mom has given me new data to consider, I’m not sure what to think about the letter anymore. Did he know he was leaving when he wrote it? How could he write such a letter of excitement and then leave? And for that matter, why did my mother say it was safer for everyone if I thought he was dead?Was he dangerous? I lean towards a “no” on this issue. (In my experience, which is limited, dangerous people do not propose with doorknobs.)
There are no pictures of my father in The Box or in the house for that matter. My mom does not like to answer questions about pictures. It makes her very defensive and bothered.[x] And I’ve given up looking for them in her closets or in the attic. There are just no pictures of my father.
I had been working on a theory that Mom burned all of them in some sort of grief cleansing after he died. But now he isn’t dead…. Could he be a spy? Or maybe he was a tortured, drug-addicted musician? Both of those theories would support Mom saying, “It was safer for everyone if you thought he was dead.”
I shook my head. Speculation is not mathematical and the trouble with looking for tangible facts about my father in The Box is that the equation The Box sets up is this:

what I know about my father = M(1 blue marble + 1 doorknob +1 letter +1 old box)
M = what my mother says about my father

We can reasonably conclude that the M is tainted (by my mother’s lies) and thereby taints the whole solution, but if you take M out, you’ll have no information at all. Multiplying by zero equals zero. Zero stories about my dad. Just a box.
And for the first time, looking through The Box had made me angry.  All of these things I “know” about my dead father were probably lies.  Just one of Mom’s stories made up to entertain her daughter.
I shoved the blue marble in my pocket. Then I put The Box away and checked the clock. Almost five. Five o’clock is always suppertime in the Sparrow home. I don’t know how this kind of a schedule works with a distracted mother, but somehow it does. She always has supper ready at five, no matter what the characters in her story world are doing.
I saw no signs of supper in the kitchen. Nothing. I looked in the office. Mom was still busy writing. What are the odds that on the day I find out my dad isn’t really dead, my mom also forgets to cook supper?
I wanted to ask my mother about supper, but I didn’t want to ask about my father specifically, because that would be weird, and I didn’t want to lash out at her.  (Cool, rational thinking wins the day.) I didn’t want to say, for instance, “Hey Mom, you may have lied to me for fifteen years, but don’t you need to be cooking something? It isn’t everyday Dad comes over for dinner.” so I said instead:
“What are we having for dinner tonight?”
Mom continued writing for a moment, then realized I had spoken, “I don’t know, whatever your dad brings home.”
I stood shocked for a moment. Let me see if I have my facts straight: a man I have never met, a man who has been “dead” my whole life, is bringing home my special birthday dinner. HE is bringing it HOME? To our home? We have a leaky faucet that has lived here longer than he has. This is not his home. Home implies permanency.
Mom looked at me. “Why are you staring like that, Lily?”
“What do you mean ‘he’s bringing dinner home’?”
“Try to understand, Lily.” Mom patted my arm and spoke slowly as if she were talking to a three-year-old or a crazy person. “Your dad is coming home for your birthday, and he is bringing dinner with him.”
I stared at her. “You mean he’s coming over for dinner, right? He can’t be coming home, because he doesn’t live here.”
“Lily, he’ll be here in less than five minutes. Do we really have to discuss whether he’s “coming over” or “coming home,” at this exact moment?” She started stacking her notes in different piles, a sign that writing was done for the day.
“Yes.” I folded my arms. “You don’t get to just lie to me and then say a stranger is coming home and then try to neatly stack me up like one of your writing notes!”
“Lily.” Mom’s voice was stern. “We are not doing this now. If you need to go back upstairs to calm down—fine. But I don’t want your father coming home to us screaming at each other.”
I could tell I was on the verge of becoming irrational so I stomped upstairs to brush my teeth.[xi] (I tend to brush my teeth when I get annoyed.) What does she mean, coming home?
On the landing, I stepped over the mini-vac Mom had left (through her distraction) plugged in. Most likely, this morning, when she was supposed to be vacuuming the stairs, inspiration seized her and she abandoned cleaning for writing.
I stomped into the bathroom, annoyed with my adult role model. How am I supposed to grow up in this abnormal environment?
Just as I finished angrily squeezing toothpaste onto my toothbrush, the shower curtain was pushed back by a fully clothed man standing in the bathtub.
“Lily!” he said. “Happy birthday!”


About the Author
Kristee Ravan lives in Oklahoma with her husband, daughter, and pet fish, Val (short for Valentine). She wanted to be many things as she grew up including a general, an artist, and an architect. But she never bothered to say, "I want to be a writer when I grow up." She was always writing stories and thought of herself as a writer anyway. She sent her first story to a publisher in the sixth grade. (It was rejected - in a nice way.) When she is not making up stories in her head, she enjoys reading, juggling, green smoothies, playing dollhouse with her daughter, and hearing from her fans.


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