BOB & GOLLEM

 

Returned from a 4 day road trip—3 of which were mostly road. The cats missed me, but particularly Bob, because he welcomed me home in his usual over-the-top Uber feline way. Hadn’t been in the house again for more than an hour, when I heard keening outside the door. It’s “Tigger’s” wurra-wurra-wurra, deep, and, somehow, both penetrating and nasal. Nasal of necessity, because he only makes this yeowly cry when he has some pitiful victim clamped between his jaws.  Yesterday, amid the blooming daffodils and the greening yard, the red buds getting ready to burst and send the human community into a coordinated allergy attack, was the last day for a poor bunny, probably  little more than a month old.

 I foolishly opened the door and Bob rushed in carrying it, a tiger with head held high, proudly bearing prey. The sad little head and ears dangled on one side of his mouth, the adorable baby legs on the other. I ran to catch him and he dropped it at my feet. When I gathered it up in a napkin, it was still warm and floppy.

“Damn you, “ said I, which was not the response he was looking for, even though I didn’t really push the regret and sadness I felt into the words. After all, he’s not a kid, he’s a cat, and, in his feline way, he truly meant well. I placed the corpse back outside on the porch. Bob followed and lay down beside it. He stretched out, head up, like some Serengeti hunter relaxing with a freshly-caught antelope. As I gave him a quick stroke, I realized that like the LOTR’s Gollem, he’d brought “master” a lovely present.  As Peter Jackson said it: “Eat them! Eat them, they are young and tender!”

~~Juliet Waldron

See My Books at:

WHAT TIME IS IT? (With apologies to Word Jazz)

Art by Milosaurous

 

It’s 11:11 p.m. Sometimes it’s 12:12 a.m. Sometimes it’s 3:33 or, maybe, it’s 4:56.  These are clock times which snag my imagination. They happen mostly the dark hours, when I wake up, look at the glowing dial, shake my head and stagger off to the bathroom, or to let the cat out, or to wander around the house for a bit until my old joints unkink sufficiently so I can go back to sleep. I suppose I shouldn’t waste time thinking about whether these readings mean anything, but the problem is that during the 60’s I dabbled in numerology, and that even earlier, sitting on the floor to the off-stage right of a Barbadian bar, I read books about ancient aliens visiting earth, prehistoric collisions with Venus, or African tribes who knew all about the invisible-to-the-naked-eye-dwarf companion of the blue giant star, Sirius. I’ve been soaking in this other-worldly, one-brick-shy-of-a-load content since I was a post war child, with predictable results.

Whenever I wake up I always look at the clock, and because there is usually some variation of what I take to be a “meaningful” configuration, I’ve begun to imagine these are messages—from somewhere, about something. Don’t ask me what, although I’ve spent plenty of nights wondering. Are these omens, messages from a hitherto uncommunicative universe?  

Will the TARDIS land in my bedroom?

Is an escapee from some hideous Lovecraftian dimension with three long fingers and a long snaky snout waiting just behind the door?

Is my ship--long awaited--about to come in?

Or is it all simply a series of unrelated events, just “random chaos ”(as one of my friends has it) which would be, in my experience, business as usual on this particular plane.

~~Juliet Waldron

http://www.julietwaldron.com

PARTISAN HEART

PARTISAN HEART - Book 2 – Tango of Death Series -Poland 1943-During WW II resistance movements occurred in every occupied country by a variety of means, ranging from propaganda to outright warfare and the recapturing of towns, as well as hiding crashed pilots.

Partisan Heart tells the story of a Gypsy girl who follows her beloved into the forests of Poland and the Ukraine. Their partisan group is willing to risk their lives blowing up train trestles, attacking SS killer squads, and to infiltrate Nazis intelligence to destroy Nazi Germany. Resistance does exist. If nothing else, to die with dignity is a form of resistance. hhttp://bookswelove.net or http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00AZ6VTFE/

Excerpt:

“I am a Jew fighting for his people and I’m fighting for your people, too. I don’t need you fighting me.” He opened his arms to her.

Vanya moved into his embrace. After a long silence she lifted her face up to him and took his hard kiss. She responded with urgency and passion. He fueled the fire within her and she didn’t want to stop.

He kissed her cheek, then moved to nibble on her ear lobe.

“I love how you kiss me,” she said somewhat breathless.

He answered with a trail of kisses down her neck . . . lower and lower. She allowed him to pop open the first few buttons on her blouse. He pinned her back against a tree and buried his face into her cleavage. The sensation shook her to the core. She should tell him to stop, but she truly didn’t want him to.

How or when he slipped the remaining buttons free, she couldn’t say.

Find GYPSY SPIRIT Book 1 Tango of Death Series http://www.amazon.com/dp/B009KDY5D6 or http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/241274

Watch for JEWISH SOUL, book 3 of the Tango of Death Series . . . coming soon - Mayla decides it’s up to her to do whatever it takes to find her twin, Vanya, and baby sister, Zilka ~ before the Gestapo sends them to a concentration camp or the SS kills them.

Rita Karnopp
Author ~ Romancing the West
ritakarnopp@bresnan.net
http://bookswelove.net
http://mizging.blogspot.com
http://ritakarnopp.com

 

Stop back by March 15 for a blurb by Roseanne Dowell!

The Partisan's Wife

I've read this one, and take it from me, this trilogy is the real "historical" deal!

Juliet


 

BWL BLURBATHON — Kathy Fischer-Brown

The Partisan’s Wife: Book 3: “The Serpent’s Tooth” trilogy

Faced with an impossible choice, Anne Marlowe is torn between her love for her husband and the hope of her father’s forgiveness. As the American forces follow up on their tide-turning victories over the British at Saratoga, Peter is drawn deeper into the shady network of espionage that could cost them both their lives.

“Echoes of great writers from the period abound here, but this modern tale moves fast and is always inventive. The characters, drawn from all classes … are crisply drawn and always believable. I'd recommend "The Partisan's Wife" particularly to any reader who enjoys the period, or a thoroughly researched historical set in any time. You won't be disappointed.” — Juliet Waldron, author of Mozart’s Wife

Available for Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/an4ss64 and in paperback: http://tinyurl.com/9wzmdmj at Amazon.com

Other books in the series: Lord Esterleigh’s Daughter: http://tinyurl.com/bykggat and Courting the Devil: http://tinyurl.com/b7zzots

Check out The Partisan’s Wife book trailer: http://youtu.be/at5BJcKNO_o

Visit my website: http:// www.kfischer-brown.com

Check out my Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/KathyFischerBrownAuthor

Don't forget to stop back on March 9 for Vijaya Schartz

Now Available: Pandora's Box by Kat Attalla

Abandoned to foster homes as a child, beautiful Charlotte "Charlie" Lawson is steel and velvet on the outside, but on the inside, she's vulnerable and lonely. Even though, deep down, she longs for romance, Charlie decided long ago that she wouldn't give anyone a chance to hurt her again...until sexy, compassionate Damian Westfield makes her believe she can let down her guard.

Everything about Charlie haunts Damian, including her mysterious friendship to his half-brother. It isn't long before Damian's search for the truth opens up Pandora’s Box and he uncovers his family's hidden past. The revelations bring him closer to Charlie. But an act of betrayal will soon force the woman he loves to choose between revenge against the people who hurt her...and trusting him with her heart.
"This is the finest category romance I have ever read. The heroine is a beautiful young woman haunted by her sad childhood in foster homes. The hero is a workaholic businessman who meets her through their half-brother and becomes utterly enchanted with her. The story of how they overcome secrets from the past and their present fears is truly wonderful. You will love this book!" ~ 5 Stars, ERV

"A sensual and moving story about a woman overcoming her past and the to-die-for hero who not only captures her heart, but works hard to keep it. Damian is every woman's dream. Don't miss this story!" ~ 5 Stars, Karen Drogin aka Carly Phillips

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00BL8ASG6

Now Available: Pandora's Box by Kat Attalla

 

 

Can a blazing new love chase away dark secrets?

Today blogging on Lisabet Sarai's erotic romance site. (And that's Erotic with a Capital "E"!) Glad feminism and freedom to speak freely about sex isn't entirely dead in the reading community.  Some of the reviews this book has acquired have let me know that the church ladies are still with us, and censoriously mouthing off, as eternal.

(Don't go here if you aren't over eighteen, or aren't a grown-up , and that includes the adult holier-than-thous.)

http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com/2013/02/miss-gottlieb-tells-all.html

Mr. Klein

He was my music teacher at Skaneateles High School until my parents' divorce sent me off to the U.K. in the 9th grade. He was funny, witty, tall and rather thin, dressed in khakis, a white button down and a tie. Sometimes he wore a jacket, too, but sometimes, when he was working with his chorus or the band, he rolled up the sleeves. He had a long, large nose, wise brown eyes behind big glasses, and long musician's hands.

As this was back in the 50's, a time of teen angst, I don't really remember as much about him, or how he taught, or things he said, as I'd like to. He thought I might learn to be a vocalist, and though that probably wasn't likely, he cared enough to give me something to work toward, which is important for kids in general and which was very kind to me. The high point of my last year was singing a solo at the Christmas program. Even a few days later, broadcast by a local a.m. station, as one among the offerings of a hundred other high schools, I was proud to hear myself, clear and pitch perfect. If I'd stayed in Skaneateles, I probably would have studied music, simply because he was such an inspirational teacher.

My parents often went out to dance and hear music in Syracuse, and they came across Mr. Klein working another job, as pianist in a locally well-known jazz band. Those were the days when teachers didn't get paid very much, but this was more than just moonlighting. Mr. Klein's brown eyes always lit up in music class when he talked about "Jazz Hot" and "Jazz Cool," which was, according to him, the end point in the evolution of western musical tradition. "Jazz Cool," was, of course, what he preferred--and played.  At the big hotel, he was the featured player: "Pop Klein on the Piano," disguised, as were the rest of the band, behind hip dark glasses. It was, of course, a secret, not something that in those days the school board would have looked on kindly, so my parents swore me to secrecy.

Once, in class, Mr. Klein mentioned something about this other life, telling a story about another musician who was, around supper time, scratching  himself absently and saying "I got spag-eyes." Those not into jive talk imagined a horrible skin disease, but Mr. Klein explained that his hipster friend just wanted to go out for sphagetti.

Nope, I won't ever forget this marvelous teacher, the benign Mr. Klein! I hope he's still around somewhere, and that he has enjoyed the great stream of new jazz which has continued unabated ever since.

~~Juliet (Vandiver) Waldron

http://www.amazon.com/author/julietwaldron