I reckon this is still the best...

....winter Olympic moment ever. Go the underdog!



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Yeah, why didn’t I?

I’ve been thinking a lot about what someone said to me the other day – “why didn’t you do…..” I wanted to at the time. I really, really wanted to. But I stopped and I havered and thought ‘yeah but what will they think if I do?’ Which is weird for me as I tend to rush into things bull-at-a-gate and rarely do I give a rat’s arse about what someone else thinks. But, suddenly, I have another person on my list of people’s opinions that matter to me and I’m trying to act less like my irrational self. Or maybe I’m acting more like my true myself. I don’t know. Maybe some people are meant to scare you in a good way – to make you change and force you to look at things. I dunno. I do know next time I will do exactly what I planned…and more. Look out.

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Living La Vida Loca…

I bought a new lawn mower today. Yep. I think Ricky Martin summed it up best when he sang living la vida loca – the wild crazy life.

Now, I don’t want to alarm anyone but I think there’s going to be a machine uprising and it’s going to start with lawnmowers. Both of mine refused to work. For the exact same reason. They may be 1001 years old but still…they both started and then they both stopped. I did all the usual things. I checked spark plugs and filters. I swore a lot. I kicked wheels. I threatened them with eviction from the garden shed. I stamped my feet and raged against them for wasting my time. I rang and annoyed men and asked what could be wrong. Their answers? Get someone to mow the lawn - it’s easier. I don’t want easy. I want answers. There has to be a reason. I went and got clean petrol and oil and the same thing. Start – stop – shudder – copious smoke and then something that sounded suspiciously like a snicker. Both of them did the exact same thing. Coincidence? I think not – hence the reason I feel there is going to be a machine uprising.

So, there it is. I have a new lawn mower. Lord knows what wild excitement will top that tomorrow.

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Vampire Island by Sandra Cox...

The Blurb...

My name is Zoe Tempest. Just let me say, I had no intention of becoming a vampire hunter. My world revolved around the trendiest clothes, the boy of the week, shopping, and texting. My life was as close to perfect as a seventeen year old can get. I had everything. Then my parents were murdered and my world came crashing down.
After their funeral, I went to live with my uncle Julian Kilmer. That’s when everything changed. In a manner more terrifying than anything I could have imagined.




The Excerpt...


“Don’t go out after dark.”
“You’re joking right?” I said the first thing that came into my head then heaved a sigh from deep in my flat, toned belly. In the short twenty-some odd hours I’d known him, the dark brooding man standing in front of me had never cracked a smile let alone joked. Too bad, for an older man—he’s thirty-seven if he’s a day—Uncle Julian is a bit of a hottie…in an intense sort of way. His olive-colored skin stretches tight across high cheek bones. His thin nose reminds me of a predatory hawk.
I really couldn’t say a thing about his eyes. I’d never seen them. He invariably wore dark glasses.
“I never joke.”
There’s a news flash.
We stood in the dark gloomy hall of his mansion. As thunder boomed, the lights flickered. Moment’s later a streak of white lightning, visible through the long narrow window, hit nearby. The floor shook. Outside something screamed in the night. Though the room felt hot and stuffy, goose bumps roughened my skin. I rubbed my arms.
He leaned toward me. His shadow loomed menacingly across the floor engulfing me in black.
Before I could stop myself, I took a hasty step back and bumped against the door. The cool knob pressed into my back. He might be my uncle, but he was a stranger and a scary one at that.
With his index finger, he pulled down the sunglasses and looked over them. I gasped. His eyes were the same distinctive cobalt as my own. But where my eyes only added to my Barbie doll appearance, his sucked you in like a vortex. As if he could suction every thought right out of your head just by looking at you.
Get a grip, Zoe.
A trace of unease flickered across his face. “You aren’t sick are you?”
“No. What makes you think that?”
“You’re white as a sheet. Goose bumps are standing up on your arms like a plucked turkey.”
Being a vegetarian, the mental image wasn’t exactly a pleasant one.
I gathered my courage and asked “Why can’t I go out?”
“Because I said so.”
I barely refrained from rolling my eyes.
He shifted his weight, his expression impatient.
The silence stretched between us.
Cold clammy beads of sweat trickled between my shoulder blades. I twitched my shoulders.
“Well?” I demanded fisting my hands on my hips.
“Because it’s dangerous,” he said curtly.
“What do you mean?”
He raised a black slashed eyebrow. “What about dangerous don’t you understand?”
I watched his gaze travel over my hot pink top and short white skirt. When his glance came to rest on my manicured toenails visible in my pink polka dot sandals with rhinestone bows, he shook his head his expression dismissive.
I shouldn’t have let it bother me. I was used to being looked at like an empty headed blonde who’s only thought was her wardrobe. I even encouraged it. But it hurt coming from family. If he’d been around while I was growing up, he’d have known better.
“This is the Bahamas. How dangerous can it be?” I challenged, straightening my shoulders and lifting my chin. Why should I care what this man thinks of me?
“This is a remote, unknown, island in the Bahamas.” He flicked an imaginary piece of lint off his black silk shirt.
“Does this remote island have a name?”
His cobalt gaze locked with mine. The deep black flecks in them flickered like crashing tidal waves. “Vampire Island.”

***Click on the cover to buy***

Contest: For a chance to win a pair of vampire red and hisss silver earrings – see here - http://sandracox.blogspot.com/ - I love ‘em - just leave a comment at http://downtownya.blogspot.com/ and send Sandra an email - sandracox1@gmail.com with VI contest in the header. Easy peasy.

Amarinda Jones
Penn Halligan
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I'm just not a Monday person....

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Thinking…

Don’t you hate it when you don’t know what to do?

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Saint V....

There are varying opinions as to the origin of Valentine's Day. Some experts state that it originated from St. Valentine, a Roman who was martyred for refusing to give up Christianity. He died on February 14, 269 A.D., the same day that had been devoted to love lotteries. Legend also says that St. Valentine left a farewell note for the jailer's daughter, who had become his friend, and signed it "From Your Valentine". Other aspects of the story say that Saint Valentine served as a priest at the temple during the reign of Emperor Claudius. Claudius then had Valentine jailed for defying him. In 496 A.D. Pope Gelasius set aside February 14 to honour St. Valentine.

http://www.pictureframes.co.uk/Saint-Valentine.aspx

This bit about Saint V made me laugh…

Saints are not supposed to rest in peace; they're expected to keep busy: to perform miracles, to intercede. Being in jail or dead is no excuse for non-performance of the supernatural.

http://www.catholic.org/saints/saint.php?saint_id=159

So – Valentine ’s Day - crass commercialization of love or a genuine tradition of remembrance? Both – the stores trade on the sentimentality of love and need - and pausing to remember what you have with someone you love is important. Love - it’s weird. Yep, I write romance but that’s the best I can tell you.

An oldie but a goodie and a favourite of mine…

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