Just one today, but it’s a doozy.
😀

Just one today, but it’s a doozy.
😀

Check out Judith’s new book of short stories. Sounds great to me! Let’s help her tell the world! Thanks.

Twice lately, I have been pulled right out of a story I was reading by the phrase “baited breath,” and I realized this is a mistake far too many people are making. One does not have “baited breath” unless one has been eating worms or shiners. Honest.
The correct word in this case is “bated,” as in “abated” meaning something that has ceased happening. Like breathing. In other words, the phrase “bated breath” means someone is holding his breath, whereas to say “baited breath” implies someone has very odd dining habits.
The Serious Example:
The accused murderer awaited the jury’s verdict with bated breath. (He was holding his breath).
The Silly example:
The cat ate every shiner in the pail, ending up with baited breath. (The cat now smells fishy.)
Hope this helps sort out the difference between bated and baited. (But I’m not holding my breath here. 😀 )
Just For Laughs
😀

Just For Silly
(Maybe the funniest dog face, EVER)
😀

And Just for Jessica!
😀


This week’s #NotesFromTheRiver post continues with our look at Florida’s State Animal, the Florida Panther, a subspecies of the western cougar. Hope some of you will check it out, even if only for the photos. And please share, if you have time. THANKS!

Anyone who’s followed this blog very long knows how much I enjoy doing local presentations of all sorts, including Meet the Author Readings & Book Signings, Tea With the Author, St. Johns River Eco Tour Meet & Greets, and various Nature Related slideshow presentations. I’m excited to say that I have added something new this summer–a slide show entitled 100 Years of Writing: An Author’s Perspective. And no, I haven’t been writing 100 years. (Only 4). But I’ve done a good bit of research and found out a lot of cool stuff about how authors wrote and published their books in 1917. Some of the things I discovered just might surprise you!
If you are in the area on Saturday, August 12, from 11:00am to 1:30pm, please consider joining us at the Enterprise Heritage Museum, address and phone number below. I did a trial run of the show at the traveling Smithsonian exhibit last month (The Way We Worked) and everyone seemed to have a good time, so why not come see for yourself? The museum is asking a $7 donation, which includes the show and a light lunch. And I’ll also be available afterward for Q&A and signing books.
Here’s the info, once again:
WHEN: 11:00am to 1:30pm, Saturday, August 12, 2017
WHERE: Enterprise Heritage Center & Museum
360 Main Street, Enterprise, FL
Call 386-259-5900 for Reservations
ADMISSION: $7.00 donation which includes presentation and lunch



Thank you Marcia for allowing me to commandeer your blog to let your followers know my novel set in Afghanistan, No More Mulberries, is FREE to download from Amazon until Monday 10th July.
B
lurb: Scottish-born midwife, Miriam loves her work at a health clinic in rural Afghanistan and the warmth and humour of her women friends in the village, but she can no longer ignore the cracks appearing in her marriage. Her doctor husband has changed from the loving, easy-going man she married and she fears he regrets taking on a widow with a young son, who seems determined to remain distant from his stepfather.
When Miriam acts as translator at a medical teaching camp she hopes time apart might help her understand the cause of their problems. Instead, she must focus on helping women desperate for medical care and has little time to think about her failing marriage. When an old friend appears, urging her to visit the village where once she and her first husband had been so happy, Miriam finds herself travelling on a journey into her past, searching for answers to why her marriage is going so horribly wrong.
Her husband, too, must deal with issues from his own past – from being shunned by childhood friends when he contracted leprosy to the loss of his first love.
Excerpt from Chapter One: Iqbal was being ridiculous but if she was going to persuade him to change his mind, she must stay calm. She really didn’t want it to turn into a major row. She took a deep breath, which ended on a yawn. Too tired for one thing.
Maybe she should agree to Iqbal’s suggestion and employ a girl from the village to help with the housework? She’d always refused, telling him she’d feel uncomfortable having someone working in the house. She didn’t admit to him she hated the idea of people thinking the foreign wife needed help to run her home, couldn’t cope with hard work. Bad enough they knew she couldn’t spin wool – or milk a goat.
That bloody-minded animal, feeling her first tentative touch, had looked knowingly over its shoulder at her with its nasty, wrong-way-round eyes and walked away. Tightening her grip only made the goat go faster, forcing her into an idiotic crouching run, while her friend
Usma, in between shouts of laughter yelled at her to let go. When she did, falling over in a heap on the stony ground, the pain of her scraped knees had been nothing compared to the hurt to her dignity and pride. For weeks after everyone asked her if she’d milked any more goats. The day she could join in the laughter at the episode had not yet arrived.
She sighed and looked upwards. Familiarity with Afghanistan’s night skies never lessened her sense of awe. On moonless nights the Milky Way was a magical white path through stars that didn’t twinkle – they blazed. Constellations her father had taught her to recognise when she was a child – Orion, the Plough, the Seven Sisters – demonstrated proudly that here, they possessed far more jewel-bright stars than she had ever seen in Scotland. Tonight, though, the moon, almost full, had risen, dimming the stars’ brightness, silvering the jagged peaks of the mountains that kept the valley safe.
‘Our moon,’ she whispered. ‘Oh, Jawad, what have I done?’
‘Miriam?’ She jumped at the sound of Iqbal’s voice close behind her. Had he heard her whisper?
She turned to face him relieved to see he was smiling. ‘Children ready for bed?’ she asked. ‘I’ll go say goodnight to them.’
He shook his head, coming to stand next to her, saying softly, ‘Ruckshana’s already asleep. Farid is learning his spelling words for tomorrow.’ He reached for her hand. ‘Miriam, look, I suppose I should have mentioned it to you – cancelling the boys’ lessons.’
‘Mentioned it?’ She snatched her hand away, the need for calm forgotten. Tilting her head to look up at him, she asked, ‘What about discussing it with me?’
Bio: Author and journalist Mary Smith lives in South West Scotland. Although she has always written, whether childish short stories, very bad angst-ridden poetry as a teenager, or diaries, she never really believed she could be an author. And so she did lots of other things instead including fundraising for Oxfam and later working in Pakistan and Afghanistan for health programmes. Those experiences inform much of her writing. Her debut novel, No More Mulberries is set in Afghanistan.
Back in Scotland she found work as a freelance journalist while completing a MLitt in Creative Writing. She has also written Drunk Chickens and Burnt Macaroni: Real Stories of Afghan Women, a narrative non-fiction account about her time in Afghanistan which offers an authentic insight into how ordinary Afghan women and their families live their lives.
She has one full-length collection of poems, Thousands Pass Here Every Day and has worked, in collaboration with photographer Allan Devlin on two local history books: Dumfries Through Time and Castle Douglas Through Time. Secret Dumfries will be published in 2018.
Mary’s other project is to turn her blog, My Dad’s A Goldfish, about caring for her father when he had dementia into a book, which she hopes will be published before the end of 2017. Before that she will be publishing a slim collection of short stories.
GET IT HERE: http://smarturl.it/nmm

A couple of weeks ago, Mae Clair nominated me for a Liebster Award, and I’m happy to say I’m finally able to take part. Thank you so much for the award, Mae. I had fun with this one. Here are the rules:
Here are the eleven questions Mae asked, and my answers to each:
And here are 11 things about me you may or may not know.
My Questions:
Now for my nominations, but under no circumstances should you feel obligated to participate. We all understand that some folks just don’t have the time, and others simply don’t do awards and the like. Just know you were among my eleven choices, for whatever that’s worth. 🙂 So, seven women, and under the theory that guys should bare their souls now and then, as well, four men! And there’s no time limit on this, should you prefer to wait until it’s more convenient for you. I did. 🙂

Today is the final day of my 4th of July book sale. Last chance to download That Darkest Place for $1.99, saving $3.00. And you can still download all my other novels for the rock bottom price of $.99. That includes all three Wake-Robin Ridge books, and the first two Riverbend books. Don’t miss out!
Go here to download your copies today:
Wake-Robin Ridge Book 1
A Boy Named Rabbit: Wake-Robin Ridge Book 2
Harbinger: Wake-Robin Ridge Book 3
Swamp Ghosts: Riverbend Book 1
Finding Hunter: Riverbend Book 2
That Darkest Place: Riverbend Book 3
Crafting Compelling Stories from the Heart
Southern stories of grace and grit
Writing Tips from Valerie Ormond
Author, Artist, Poet
Fantasy Author
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Christian Fiction Reviews by Christian Authors
Mystery, magic and mayhem
Passionate Teacher and Future Children's Author
Writing Advice from a YA Author Powered by Chocolate and Green Tea
Humor at the Speed of Life
TELL YOUR STORIES, LOVE YOUR LIFE
From Rat Race to Road Trip: Overlanding With Four Dogs!
Author Page
Random thoughts, life lessons, hopes and dreams
A groovy little website by children's book author Mike Allegra
Mind-Blowing Facts You Didn’t Know
Suspense Lives Here
Embrace your inner child by reading a good book!
WordPress & Blogging tips, flash fiction, photography and lots more!