#AlertTheMedia – #Sale – All of My Books Just $.99 From Now Until #ValentinesDay – #Don’tMissOut!

Treat yourself to a reading bargain for Valentine’s Day! For the next fourteen days, all of my books —yes, every single one of them–will be available for download at the rock bottom price of $.99 each! That’s four Wake-Robin Ridge novels, three Riverbend novels, three Emissary novellas, and one Summer Magic book of poetry. Need to know more? Here you go:

Wake-Robin Ridge Book 1

“A PHONE RINGING AT 2:00 A.M. never means anything good. Calls at 2:00 A.M. are bad news. Someone has died. Someone is hurt. Or someone needs help.”

On a bitter cold January night in 1965, death came calling at an isolated little cabin on Wake-Robin Ridge. Now, nearly 50 years later, librarian Sarah Gray has quit her job and moved into the same cabin, hoping the peace and quiet of her woodland retreat will allow her to concentrate on writing her first novel. Instead she finds herself distracted by her only neighbor, the enigmatic and reclusive MacKenzie Cole, who lives on top of the mountain with his Irish wolfhound as his sole companion.

As their tentative friendship grows, Sarah learns the truth about the heartbreaking secret causing Mac to hide from the world. But before the two can sort out their feelings for each other, they find themselves plunged into a night of terror neither could have anticipated. Now they must unravel the horrifying events of a murder committed decades earlier. In doing so, they discover that the only thing stronger than a hatred that will not die is a heart willing to sacrifice everything for another.


A Boy Named Rabbit: Wake-Robin Ridge Book 2

“Evil’s comin’, boy…comin’ fast. Look for the man with eyes like winter skies, and hair like a crow’s wing. He’s the one you gotta find.”

The remote mountain wilderness of North Carolina swallowed up the ten-year-old boy as he made his way down from the primitive camp where his grandparents had kept him hidden all his life. His dying grandmother, gifted with the Sight, set him on a quest to find the Good People, and though he is filled with fear and wary of civilization, Rabbit is determined to keep his promise to her. When he crosses paths with Sarah and MacKenzie Cole, neither their lives nor his, are ever the same again.

The extraordinary little boy called Rabbit has the power light up the darkness, and the resourcefulness to save himself from the one person his grandparents had hoped would never find him. His dangerous and bittersweet journey will touch you in unexpected ways, and once you’ve let Rabbit into your heart, you’ll never forget him.


Harbinger: Wake-Robin Ridge Book 3

“. . . he felt the wet slide of the dog’s burning hot tongue on his face, and the scrape of its razor sharp teeth against the top of his head. A white-hot agony of crushing pain followed, as the jaws began to close.”

The wine-red trillium that carpets the forests of the North Carolina Mountains is considered a welcome harbinger of spring—but not all such omens are happy ones. An Appalachian legend claims the Black Dog, or Ol’ Shuck, as he’s often called, is a harbinger of death. If you see him, you or someone you know is going to die.

But what happens when Ol’ Shuck starts coming for you in your dreams? Nightmares of epic proportions haunt the deacon of the Light of Grace Baptist Church, and bring terror into the lives of everyone around him. Even MacKenzie Cole and his adopted son, Rabbit, find themselves pulled into danger.

When Sheriff Raleigh Wardell asks Mac and Rabbit to help him solve a twenty-year-old cold case, Rabbit’s visions of a little girl lost set them on a path that soon collides with that of a desperate man being slowly driven mad by guilt.


The Light: Wake-Robin Ridge Book 4

The Magic is Back!

For Robert MacKenzie Cole—or Rabbit, as he’s known to all—the chance to accompany his family to see North Carolina’s infamous Brown Mountain Lights has him nearly dizzy with excitement. And what better night to watch this unexplained phenomenon unfold than Halloween?

But when the entrancing, unpredictable lights show up, Rabbit gets far more than he bargained for. He’s gifted with what folks in the Appalachians call “the Sight,” and it’s this extrasensory perception that enables him to spot the one light different from all the rest.

In his biggest challenge to date, Rabbit—aided by his daddy and his newest friend, Austin Dupree— begins a quest to learn more about the mysterious light. Their investigation unveils a web of cons and corruption none of them expected and exposes a brutal murder along the way.

Throughout all, Rabbit is unfaltering in his commitment to do whatever it takes to understand the truth behind the glowing orb and to determine how he can help it. After all, it followed him home.


Swamp Ghosts: Riverbend Book 1

Wildlife photographer Gunnar Wolfe looked like the kind of guy every man wanted to be and every woman just plain wanted, and the St. Johns River of central Florida drew him like a magnet. EcoTour boat owner Maggie Devlin knew all the river’s secrets, including the deadliest ones found in the swamps. But neither Maggie nor Gunn was prepared for the danger that would come after them on two legs.

On a quest to make history photographing the rarest birds of them all, Gunnar hires the fiery, no-nonsense Maggie to canoe him into the most remote wetland areas in the state. He was unprepared for how much he would enjoy both the trips and Maggie’s company. He soon realizes he wants more than she’s able to give, but before he can win her over, they make a grisly discovery that changes everything, and turns the quiet little town of Riverbend upside down. A serial killer is on the prowl among them.


Finding Hunter: Riverbend Book 2

Before, I never thought about taking a life. Not once.
Now, the thought fills my mind day and night, and
I wonder how I’ll hide that terrible need,
As an old car swings to the shoulder,
And stops.

~ Traveling Man ~

Hunter Painter’s darkest fears have shaped his offbeat personality since he was a child, crippling him in ways invisible to those unable to see past his quiet exterior. In a sleepy Florida town known for its eccentric inhabitants, he’s always been a mystery to most.

Only one person sees beyond Hunter’s quirky facade. Willow Greene, the new age herbalist who owns the local candle and potpourri shop, has secretly loved him since they were in high school. When, sixteen years later, she discovers Hunter has loved her just as long, Willow hopes her dreams are finally coming true.

Willow soon learns that Hunter fears happiness at her side isn’t in the cards for him. With her natural optimism and courage, she almost convinces him he’s wrong—that they can really have that life together they both long for—but even Willow can’t stop what Hunter knows is coming.

One by one, his worst nightmares become reality, culminating in an unthinkable tragedy, which devastates everyone it touches. Willow’s battle begins in earnest as Hunter is plunged into a bleak, guilt-ridden despair, threatening to destroy not only their love, but Hunter, himself.

Finding Hunter is the story of a lost man’s desperate struggle to make his way home again, and one woman’s unshakeable faith in him and the power of their love.


That Darkest Place: Riverbend Book 3

“There are dark places in every heart, in every head. Some you turn away from. Some you light a candle within. But there is one place so black, it consumes all light. It will pull you in and swallow you whole. You don’t leave your brother stranded in that darkest place.”
~Hunter Painter~

The new year is a chance for new beginnings—usually hopeful, positive ones. But when Jackson Painter plows his car into a tree shortly after midnight on January 1, his new beginnings are tragic. His brothers, Forrest and Hunter, take up a grim bedside vigil at the hospital, waiting for Jackson to regain consciousness and anxious over how he’ll take the news that he’s lost a leg and his fiancée is dead. After all, the accident was all his fault.

As the shocking truth emerges, one thing becomes obvious—Jackson will need unconditional love and support from both of his brothers if he is to survive.

Just as he begins the long road to recovery, danger, in the form of a sinister, unsigned note, plunges him back into bleak despair. Scrawled in blood red letters, the accusation—and the threat—is clear. “MURDERER!”

Will the long, harrowing ordeal that lies ahead draw the Painter brothers closer together, or drive them apart forever?

Suspenseful and often heartbreaking, this small-town tale is a testimonial to the redemptive power of love and paints a story filled with humor, romance, and fierce family loyalty.


The Emissary: A Riverbend Spinoff Novella

An angel’s work is never done—that’s part of the gig. But angels hadn’t been created to deal with such a vastly over-populated planet, rife with misery, suffering, and general chaos. Helping souls in peril has become a nearly impossible job, and even angelic tempers are frayed.

The archangel Azrael has had enough. He believes he’s found a way to ease their burden while saving jeopardized humans, too—hired help.

When Jake Daughtry lost his life rescuing a total stranger from certain death, he was on the fast track to Heaven. But that was before Azrael pulled him right out of line at the Pearly Gates. Now, as an Emissary to the Angels, Jake is taking to the highway in a quest to help souls in trouble. But the innate stubbornness of human beings bent on self-destruction is a challenge unlike any he’s ever faced.

It’s up to Jake and Azrael to bridge the gap between humans and angels. Will they ever convince the Council of Angels this endeavor is worthwhile? Can Jake figure out how to play by Azrael’s complicated rules? Will Azrael ever master the use of contractions in general conversation?

To find out the answers, hop on board Jake’s big red-and-white semi and travel the roads from the Florida Keys to north Georgia on an adventure that will make you laugh hard and cry even harder.


The Emissary 2: To Love Somebody

They’re back!

Jake and Dodger, the first (and so far, only) Emissaries to the Angels, are on the road again.

They’re looking for mortals about to take a wrong turn. You know the ones—the kid thinking about stealing from a corner market or the man planning to lie about a coworker and destroy her career. Yeah, them. People on the brink of making a mistake that could send them down that wrong road and jeopardize their mortal souls.

Of course, there are rules by which the emissaries must play, and the archangel Azrael stands ready to enforce them. First and foremost, a person’s free will must never be compromised. Emissaries are allowed to use only the smallest of mental nudges. Thankfully, a whispered suggestion here or images of a better course of action there is usually all it takes. The potential mugger walks on by. The thief drops the wallet back into the unattended purse. But whether the results are obvious or not, Jake and Dodger are fully committed to making a positive difference, even as they struggle with issues of their own.

Will Dodger get over losing his chance to learn what true love is all about? Will Jake survive the grueling angelic equivalent of Boot Camp? Will Azrael ever finish the Official Emissarial Guidebook—including the chapter titled Do Not Even Think About It?

One thing’s for sure—Jake’s and Dodger’s strengths are growing daily, as they help more and more people make better choices. But is the price for so much power higher than they’re willing to pay?


The Emissary 3: Love Hurts

The archangel Azrael created his emissaries to help mortals avoid choices that would doom them for eternity. He hadn’t planned on the youngest member of the team falling in love with one. In Marcia Meara’s final installment of her Emissary Trilogy, a Riverbend spinoff series of novellas, we find our heroes facing a new problem, and it’s all because Dodger died before having a chance to learn what love was all about. His request that Azrael help him correct that situation causes a multitude of problems no one could have foreseen. Except the angel, himself.


Summer Magic: Poems of Life and Love

Summer Magic: Poems of Life & Love is a collection of contemporary poetry about exactly that–life and love. The first part of the book features poems about the magic a young boy discovers while camping in the Blue Ridge Mountains. The second part of the book has a sampling of poetry about love, life and death, autumn, and dreams coming true.


And there you have it, my friends. If anything in that list sounds good to you, now is the time to download your copy.  I’ve never  had a sale this big before, and might not ever have one like it again, so don’t miss out! (And don’t forget, Gifting a download to a Kindle-loving friend is easy, too.  Just sayin’ … 😄)

Amazon Author Page

 


Time for Some #BlatantSelf-promotion a/k/a #TootingMyOwnHorn #Excerpt

It’s Friday, and I have no guests today, not even Granny, so I decided to try something I seldom do: a bit of bold and blatant self-promotion. Today’s horn tooting features one of the poems from my book, Summer Magic. This time of year always makes me a bit emotional, hence the poem I’ve chosen. Hope you enjoy it!


Promises

Up we climb again, My Love
On yet another autumn day,
Our trail meandering, higher, higher,
Amidst October’s blazing glory.
The pines are dressed in mossy green,
And glowing maples shed flaming leaves,
Keeping us brilliant company
Under the blue silk sky.

Remember our first time
Climbing this trail?
My God, we were young, and
Filled with each other!
You held my hand, and urged me on.
Wait until we’re there, you said,
Just wait! You’ll see it’s worth the climb.
And it was, My Love.
Oh, it was!

We stood at the top,
Locked in warm embrace,
Our hair, whipped by the wind,
Our hearts triumphant.
Gazing across the rolling hills,
Your radiant face was lit with pride,
As though you had created
All this wonder
Just for me—a wedding gift!
A thing of splendor our hearts shared,
Over and over, every autumn.
Our place. Ours alone,
As though no other lovers
Ever climbed this way.

Years and years ago, it was,
That first ecstatic, heavenward climb.
Yet here we are once more, My Own,
Returning to this ancient spot.
Proving some things do prevail—
Deepest faith, and promises
Sworn in love
Abide,
Just as the land before us does,
Rolling on into eternity.

Take me back, you begged,
Back to our mountain.
I will, My Love, I swear it.
I will.
And here we are.
I’ll keep my promise. No tears today.
But oh, for another smile, another kiss!
Another chance to see your face,
To touch your cheek, to hold your hand.
Gone by so fast, like wind-blown leaves,
All our precious hours and minutes!
But didn’t we use them well, My Love?
Oh, yes! We used them well!

My heart in pieces, I let you go,
And watch as you drift away,
A swirl of grey against the blue.
Your soul soaring, riding the wind,
Then settling lower over the valley,
As you become one
With our hills.
And someday, My Love, my only love,
You’ll feel my soul come drifting down,
To rest with yours once more,
Part of the earth in this sacred place,
You and I, together.
Forever.


Thanks for your indulgence today, but brace yourself. I might do something similar again from time to time. Turns out tooting your own horn now and then is fun! 

Download Summer Magic HERE

October Siege

While it’s still in the high 80s and low 90s down here in the Land of Sunshine, I’m in the mood to celebrate fall and Halloween, so here’s an offering from my book, Summer Magic: Poems of Life and Love. Hope you enjoy October Siege!

~~~

October.
The siege begins.
Enemies among us
Everywhere!
With evil grins,
They lurk,
They skulk,
They glare,
Sharp fangs bared.

October.
Hide inside.
Nighttime danger
Everywhere!
With shining eyes,
They menace,
They taunt,
They torment,
Mouths opened wide.

See how they glow!
Deadly, gap-toothed grins
Midst curves of vivid orange!
Silently screaming with devilish glee,
They lounge on nighttime porches,
And march up darkened drives.
Casting yellow light from watchful eyes,
They search for unwary victims,
For slow and easy prey.

Big ones, tall ones,
Skinny ones, or round.
Colored like the fiery sun,
Or the moonlight pallor of alien visitors.
They line up on fence posts,
Stair steps, and windowsills.
Peering out . . . or peering in?
Looking for who?
You!

October.
Watch your step.
They’re back again,
Everywhere!
With wicked intent,
They scheme,
They hunger,
They haunt,
Pumpkins on patrol!

Boo!

#SummerMagic by (ahem) Me! #Excerpt #Review

As summer winds down, I decided to share a poem of mine about a ten-year-old boy enjoying another day camping in the mountains with his dad. This is from my book Summer Magic: Poems of Life and Love, and is one of my personal favorites. Hope you enjoy it.

The Rope Swing

Sailing up, up into
Blue summer sky,
Hot rope rough against his hands,
He shouts with joy, and lets go.
For a crystal moment,
He hangs suspended,
Frozen in time
Like a fly in amber.
All awkward angles–
Shoulder blades and
Elbows, and
Knobby knees,
Painted against the sky,
Heart filled with fierce joy.

Dropping, down, down
Into clear green water
Cold on his skin,
He sinks to the silty bottom,
And sits suspended
In an alien world,
Watching the silvered flashes
Of tiny fish darting to and fro,
Startled by his sudden appearance.
I am a fish, too, he thinks,
And holds his breath
As long as he can.

Finally, he rockets up,
Through a stream of
Tickling bubbles,
Breaking the
Surface of the water,
With a loud whoop of
Childish exuberance,
All thoughts of becoming a fish
Forgotten as he
Scrambles out,
Shakes the water from his hair,
And, grinning, hitches up his
Baggy shorts.

He’s ready
To do it all again.
Flying through the summer air,
Dropping into the cold water
To commune with fishes
Silvered in refracted light,
Then leaping to the surface,
A boy of ten once more,
Laughing through an endless summer
Made perfect by a cool green pond,
And an old rope swing.
                                                         by Marcia Meara 

~~~

REVIEW

D.L. Finn

Reviewed in the United States on April 2, 2021

#GuestDayTuesday – Summer Magic by … ME!

#GuestDayTuesday Banner

This could be considered cheating, I suppose, but since I had no one scheduled as a guest today, I decided to feature myself. I started writing poetry as a child of five, believe it or not, and I’ve never lost my love for it. The second book I published, right after Wake-Robin Ridge, was Summer Magic, my little “chapbook” of poetry, and I’d like to tell you a bit about it, if you’ll indulge me.

BLURB:

Summer Magic: Poems of Life & Love is a collection of contemporary poetry about exactly that–life and love. The first part of the book features poems about the magic a young boy discovers while camping in the Blue Ridge Mountains. The second part of the book has a sampling of poetry about love, life and death, autumn, and dreams coming true.

~~~

While I truly loved writing the poems featuring my WRR hero, Mac, as a young boy enjoying his summers in my favorite place in the world–the North Carolina mountains–there are several poems in the second part of the book that really came from my heart, too. Today,  I’m going to share the longest of those, a poem that has a bit of an autobiographical nature to it. Hope you enjoy it!

ON THE RIVER

Crystal green flows beneath me,
Leafy arches rise above,
Dip, glide.
Dip, glide.
Slide.

Duckweed parts as I float by.
I wonder where they went,
Those ducks?
Gone overnight, it seems.
Another parting, another loss,
And I slide by,
Under all that green.
Dip, glide.
Dip, glide.

Just there, in deepest shade,
Sleeping emeralds cling.
Tree frogs rest in their
Smooth, damp skins
Waiting for the silver moon.
They’ll open their eyes for the silver moon.
Sleeping now,
As I pass by.
Dip, glide.
Dip, glide.

With arms raised to that same moon,
I once danced along the shore,
Young and wild and full of joy.
Moving to music
That stirred my soul,
And washed in that pale light,
I danced.
Years ago, in that pale, pale light.
I remember it all,
And so much more,
As I slide by.
Dip, glide.
Dip, glide.

A scaled ribbon of vivid lime
Scribbles across my bow,
Curving by in his own silent slide.
I smile at Dickinson’s “narrow fellow”
Tasting the air with his tongue of flame.
I feel no “zero at the bone” for him,
For I have known far worse than he,
And survived.
With a nod of my head,
I pass him, too.
And on I go.
Dip, glide.
Dip, glide.

Time and time and time goes by,
And still, green fronds protect me from above,
Green water lifts me from below,
Carrying me ceaselessly on my way.
Slower, now that Youth is gone,
Yet, sometimes a froth of foam and spray
Reminds me of those early days,
When all the water rushed clear and cold,
And teemed with Promise so bright
You could almost catch it in your hands.
That bubbling spring where it all began,
Now lies so far behind.
Far behind, and long ago,
While I move on.
Dip, glide.
Dip, glide.

Always forward,
One stroke at a time,
The only path from Here to There.
One stroke following another,
And I, all the while,
Still cherish the trees above,
The water below.
I wonder as a turn grows near,
What adventures wait beyond the bend?
Will they make my heart beat fast again?
How many shimmering curves lie before me yet?
How long does my river flow?
Dip, glide.
Dip, glide.
Dip, glide.
Slide.

~~~

Buy Summer Magic HERE

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

MYSTERY, SUSPENSE,
AND THINGS THAT GO BUMP IN THE NIGHT

IMG_5272 smaller

Marcia Meara lives in central Florida, just north of Orlando, with her husband of over thirty years and four big cats.

When not writing or blogging, she spends her time gardening, and enjoying the surprising amount of wildlife that manages to make a home in her suburban yard. She enjoys nature. Really, really enjoys it. All of it! Well, almost all of it, anyway. From birds, to furry critters, to her very favorites, snakes. The exception would be spiders, which she truly loathes, convinced that anything with eight hairy legs is surely up to no good. She does not, however, kill spiders anymore, since she knows they have their place in the world. Besides, her husband now handles her Arachnid Catch and Release Program, and she’s good with that.

Spiders aside, the one thing Marcia would like to tell each of her readers is that it’s never too late to make your dreams come true. If, at the age of 69, she could write and publish a book (and thus fulfill 64 years of longing to do that very thing), you can make your own dreams a reality, too. Go for it! What have you got to lose?

marciameara16@gmail.com
Twitter: @marciameara

BIBLIOGRAPHY OF MARCIA’S BOOKS

Marcia’s Amazon Author Page

Wake-Robin Ridge Book 1
A Boy Named Rabbit: Wake-Robin Ridge Book 2
Harbinger: Wake-Robin Ridge Book 3
The Light: Wake-Robin Ridge Book 4

Swamp Ghosts: A Riverbend Novel
Finding Hunter: Riverbend Book 2
That Darkest Place: Riverbend Book 3

The Emissary: A Riverbend Spinoff Novella
The Emissary 2: To Love Somebody 
The Emissary 3: Love Hurts

Summer Magic: Poems of Life & Love

More Happy Fall, Y’all – Campfire Ghosts from #SummerMagic

Still trying to convince myself it’s actually October. Let’s see, shorts? Check. Air conditioning on? Check. Sun shining down on sidewalk too hot to walk barefooted on? Check. Hmmm. *Looks at calendar again.* October? Not so sure, but that’s what it says. So, here’s a poem from Summer Magic: Poems of Life and Love. This is from the section entitled “Mac at Ten,” and describes one of many camping trips to the North Carolina mountains with his dad. No wonder Mac grew into a man who never wanted to live anywhere else. Enjoy. (And feel free to pass it it along.)

Campfire Ghosts
     by Marcia Meara

Dark clouds
Hide the silver light
From his wide-eyed gaze.
Night reigns
In blackest glory,
Held at bay only
By the orange firelight.
The trees are gone,
Lost in gloom.
Everywhere,
A wall of black,
Except within
The fire’s warm
Circle.

Sparks rise up,
Twisting high
Until they disappear,
Lost in the darkness,
Only to be followed
By legions more.

Whippoorwills call,
And foxes bark,
And the night settles like
A blanket over all.

Grilled food
Is gobbled down,
Leaving behind only
The sweet scorched
Scent of burnt
Marshmallow.
He wears a smile
Dressed in melted chocolate,
And licks his sticky fingers
Clean.

The air turns cooler,
As day is forgotten,
And jewel-bright embers
Glow in heaps of ash.
He’s waited as long
As a young boy can.
Shivering, he asks,
Is it time?

A warm arm
Pulls him close,
Holding him safe,
And he asks again.
Is it time now, dad?

Yes, says his father,
His voice a deep
Familiar comfort
In the ink-dark night.
Yes, I believe it is.
Let me see,
Shall I tell you
A new one?

Will it have
Clacking bones
And eyes that glow?
Will there be cold wind
Whistling through trees,
And bats swooping,
And owls calling?

Of course, says his dad.
All of that, I’m sure,
For isn’t that what
You love the most?

Oh, yes, he sighs,
Safe and warm,
Eyes growing heavy
And sleep close by.
Tell me, dad,
Like you always do.
Tell me a story.

Buy Summer Magic HERE

 

 

#NationalPoetryMonth – #SummerMagic: Poems of Life & Love – The Last Rose

A slight change of pace today, from our little boy camping in the mountains, to something a bit less jovial. Because, you know. Life can’t be all rope swings and summer smiles.  Hope you enjoy it, anyway. 😀

The Last Rose
     by Marcia Meara

Late July, and
The day drowses,
Air heavy and still.
Bees moving slowly from
Flower to flower,
In a dance weighed down by heat.
Sleepy hours spent dreaming, longing
For other places, other chances.
Anything better
Than one more day
Spent under this weight,
With movements made slow,
Like easy prey. Continue reading

#NationalPoetryMonth – #SummerMagic – Mac at Ten

Another poem from Summer Magic, though I don’t have a picture that works as well for this one. I’m afraid you’ll have to make do with the view from the very top of Wake-Robin Ridge–or at least, the way I imagined it, since WRR only exists in my mind.  Hope you enjoy this one, though since it’s from Dad’s POV,  it is a bit more introspective than the last.

Bruises
by Marcia Meara

Pale blue eyes,
Fringed in black,
Look out at the world
With the wild, free spirit
Only a ten-year-old boy
Knows how to nurture. Continue reading

#NationalPoetryMonth – #SummerMagic: Poems of Life & Love

I’ve been told it’s National Poetry Month, and who am I to argue with a lead-in like that? In celebration, I thought I’d share one of  my poems from Summer Magic: Poems of Life & Love. Since it’s been hovering around 83 to 85 degrees here for a couple of weeks, I figured a summery one was in order. Hope you enjoy it! 🙂

The Rope Swing
by Marcia Meara

Sailing up, up into
Blue summer sky,
Hot rope rough against his hands,
He shouts with joy, and lets go.
For a crystal moment,
He hangs suspended,
Frozen in time
Like a fly in amber.
All awkward angles–
Shoulderblades and
Elbows, and
Knobby knees,
Painted against the sky,
Heart filled with fierce joy. Continue reading

A Big Thank You, and a Little Poem

I just wanted to thank each of you for making this #ExcerptWeek the best one, yet. To those of you who shared your work with us, my heartfelt thanks. I loved reading every single excerpt, even when I got too swamped to comment. To those of you who shared what you read here, you are the heart and soul of what The Write Stuff is all about. I love each and every one of you, contributers and sharers alike. (And a double hug for those of you who were both!)

Thought I would share a little poem from Summer Magic, which I wrote after defying the odds and publishing my first book. Those of you who have followed me for a while will recognize it, but I hope you won’t mind reading again. If I have anything of import to give you all, it’s this little bit of life philosophy. Enjoy. (But take it to heart.)

Attitude Really Is Everything

No!
Yes.
You can’t!
I can.
Why?
Why not?
It’s all wrong!
It’s all right.
You shouldn’t!
I should.
You won’t!
I will.
It could be bad!
It could be good.
Its’ too late!
There’s still time.
You’re too old!
I’m still here.
You did it!
I did.

And with that, consider #ExcerptWeek wrapped up until next time! Hope you  all enjoyed it as much as I did.