Cupcakes and popcorn...by Sheila Claydon

 

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In some of my books a child is one of the main characters. This is very much the case in Empty Hearts and I guess this happens because my life is very frequently taken over by grandchildren - never more than right now.

I am the non-sporty, non-competitive member of a very sporty and competitive family. Well I was until now. One week ago my 12 year old granddaughter, who lives in Singapore, came to stay for five weeks. We talk a lot over Zoom plus she has visited many times before, so she always settles in straight away and starts to tell me about her life, friends and latest interests. This time it is football. Nothing wrong with that. I know that nowadays girls play it almost as much as boys and that most primary schools have all girl teams as well as mixed teams, so I listened with interest tinged with just a little trepidation because I knew a great many countries were participating in the World Cup.

I hadn't taken much notice until now, leaving my husband to watch matches on the TV while I got on with my own life. Once my granddaughter arrived, however, that was all over! Within days I had learned the names of all the English players, what had happened at previous world cups, who was the best goalie, the best goal scorer, the best manager...even the best looking!

The next thing I learned was that because the 2026 World Cup was being hosted by America, Canada and Mexico, watching matches across different timelines meant some didn't start until 10 pm in the UK. This meant late nights (and fortunately late follow on mornings) as a keen, football playing 12 year old couldn't possibly be expected to go to bed when there was a match to watch, especially any match involving England.

Then I discovered another thing. Watching a World Cup match involves snacks. Apparently it is impossible to watch a match without popcorn and, more seriously, football themed cup-cakes. Making the cup-cakes, 2 separate batches as there were a lot of matches to watch, kept the 12 year old occupied between matches, and she did a good job. They were decorated variously with coloured icing depicting country flags, the numbers of individual players shirts, footballs and other somewhat indecipherable squiggles and stripes. Tasted good too.

Then an iPad had to be present at all times so that in the hydration breaks and half-time etc. she could text her friends to discuss, as they were all watching. Singapore is hot and humid all year. It is also a somewhere that families often live for a couple of years before moving on as jobs dictate. This means that many of her friends also have family elsewhere who they visit in the summer break, so there were texts coming in from France, other parts of the UK, Colombia, Thailand, Spain. I lost count. All I know is that across the world 12 year old children, boys and girls, were staying up late to watch the matches, some in even worse time frames than the UK. 

So now I am a seasoned football watcher who was as disappointed as the rest of my family when England were knocked out in the semi-final by Argentina. I've also eaten too much cake! Whether my newly aroused enthusiasm, now backed by at least a little knowledge, will last, I don't know. Only time will tell. In the meantime we will be able to revert to a normal bedtime.

IT BROKE THE FALL by Bonny Beswick

 

 

 

Coming soon!

 

 

 

While fireworks fill the sky on the last night of The Greatest Show on Earth, also known as The Calgary Stampede, a man with a past is shot on his front doorstep. Detectives Janice Maidstone and Scott Amble are called to the quiet suburban neighbourhood. Love has many forms, but which one led to an innocent man’s death?

As far as police work goes, Janice can’t imagine working with a better partner than Scott. The problem is, it’s a race against time, as one or both of them may soon follow their hearts and seek new lives outside of the city.

***

 

 

Available!

 

 The Aquamarine Necklace: A Janice Maidstone Mystery, by Bonny Beswick — Books We Love Publishing Inc.

I’ve spent the last few months editing and revising a couple of manuscripts. One was “What Love Made Us Do”, which will be out on shelves in the near future. The other two are women’s fiction (leaning towards historical romance) that I will be self publishing later this summer. But weeks of editing has sapped my creative energy! As in the past, I have turned to developing some short fiction to cleanse my soul of Oxford comma corrections, finding misplaced modifiers, repairing split infinitives and fixing too much tell, not show.

Most of my short stories fall outside my normal genre of police procedural murder mysteries and historical romance. The one I’m dropping into this month’s blog ventures someplace I rarely go – humour.

I hope you enjoy it.

IT BROKE THE FALL

One long ear swivelled to keep an eye on me. Otherwise, old Clem stood still as a fencepost.

Dad called over from his favourite bench by the barn door. “Keep yer teeth together.”

Why would he say that? At breakfast, he said Clem was over his bucking days. He said Clem had seen the error of his ways.

A few months ago, we’d bought a couple of mules from an outfitter that was going out of business. One was Clem. The other was almost identical except for a tiny white spot on the back of his right ear.

Clem and Pickens were gentle creatures, bomb proof when carrying a pack, the outfitter said, but they’d never been broke to ride. Shouldn’t be a problem, though, he promised.

Well, first off, Clem took exception to that promise and a saddle brought out the worst in him. He invented a whole new style of bucking, until  like Dad said, he finally settled down.

So, this fine morning, after mucking out fourteen horse stalls and scraping the manure into a pile in the corner of the pasture, I figured I’d go for a ride and check the new heifers down the valley.

The ride would do Clem good, I thought, so I saddled him up in the barn, where it was cool and dark, out of the bright morning sun. His big ears twitched when I snugged up the cinch, and I thought maybe the flies were bothering him.

He followed me fine out of the barn and it took me awhile for my eyes to get used to the sun beating down on us. I was still squinting when I put my foot in the stirrup. Just as I swung my leg over his back, grey matter in my noggin registered that his right ear had a spot of white on it that wasn’t there yesterday. At the same time, my ass connected with the saddle, Clem, who wasn’t really Clem, but Perkins, the  mule that wasn’t broke to ride, ducked his head between his knees and exploded.

I hadn’t clenched my teeth like Dad had told me to, so on the first jump, my jaws clashed together so hard I figured I’d be seeing my dentist real soon.

Pickens must have taken bucking lessons from Clem because he was good. Not just crow hopping, but launching straight up, snapping back with a hard right turn, and settling into a run no mule should be able to do. They’re just not that fast.

He had the bit in his teeth; I’d lost one rein. This wasn’t going to end well ‘cause, if I’m honest, I’m not that good a rider.

Then he stopped. No fancy sliding stop. Just planted his feet, and I swear, put his head down to make sure nothing was in the way when I sailed by.

Maybe Pickens was making a point that he didn’t appreciate getting turned into a saddle horse. But in his heart, he was a good mule; they always take care of their person. Where did he plant his feet? Right in front of the still steaming, soft pile of manure and straw that came out of the stalls.

When I finally cleaned off my face enough to look up and not see stars, he had his nose almost touching mine, as if to say, Well, at least it broke the fall.

Decades by Janet Lane Walters #BWLAuthors #MFRWAuthors

 

Today has allowed me to finish nine decades of living here.  Have enjoyed and not-enjoyed much but overall, it's been great.

Decade 1 1936 to 1946 - Busy time for me growing up, learning how to read and write. Also during this time, I learned how to tell stories as evenings found the neighborhood children gathering on the porch and steps of several houses. We told ghost stories. Also learned Morse code and messaged a friend at night from my porch roof to hers until the neighborhood watch stopped us. This was during WW 2.

Decade 2 1946 - 1956 - The time of learning, Became a nurse and started writing. Moved around a bit with my husband to Ohio, Oklahoma and Texas and back to Pittsburgh. Started a family during these years. Four children. Three by birth, One by adoption.

Decade 3 1956 - 1966 = Moving around a bit . Settled in Nyack a town when i first came to visit a friend knew this was where I must live.

Dcade 4- 1966 - 1976 = Wrote my first novels and went on to pen many more. Children growing up.

Decade 5 1976 - 1986 Mainly writing and joined a group of local writers who became my friends. Group has changed over the years but some have been with us for a long time.

Decade 6 1987 -1997 - A lot of writing and meetings with other writers here or at conferences around the country. Florida, Virginia, California, Chicago among other places

Decade 7 1997 - 2007 - much writing done Children moving and changing their lives.

Decade 8 2007 - 2017 - Mainly writing man making friends with other writers.

Decade 9 2017 - 2026 - Much the same with writing and being with family and friends.

And so... the end is near, by J.C. Kavanagh

The award-winning Twisted Climb series can be found here: 

https://www.bookswelove.com/shop/series/the-twisted-climb

Well, my year's long sailing adventure is coming to an end. 

Am I sad... or relieved? Hmmm.  

I guess it's a bit of both.

Me and my partner, Ian, sailed from our home port in Ontario last July. Since then, we've travelled 6,500 nautical miles (10,461 kms) to the Bahamas and back. Our journey has taken us through Nor'easters, gale-force winds, ocean thunderstorms, dirty/slimy canal locks, hordes of nasty knats, gazillions of biting flies, non-functioning toilets (that was NOT FUN), anchoring and docking systems that failed, etc., etc.

The challenging parts:

Storms. Batten down the hatches! (But check out that water colour :)

What?
Swimming/snorkelling/foil-boarding activities take on a new meaning when you discover
that the Bahamas is famous as the shark capital of the world...  

Winds and winds and more winds. Our boat is the green dot in Bahama's Eleuthera chain of islands. Normal winds are bluish or green in colour. Dark red denotes gale-force winds. The white streaks show the wind direction. Oh, the excitement during those few days!

Beauty after the storm. I've never seen an X-shaped rainbow before.

The best parts:

When we arrived at our destination, well, the stresses caused by weather/boat challenges were overcome by the incredible, natural beauty that is the Bahamas. There, you'll find the bluest blue waters surrounded by the cleanest sandy beaches. The scenery is postcard perfect.  Ahh... you can't help but transition the tension out of your brain, feel it creep across your shoulders, then slither behind your back until it drops between the crack, so to speak. Yes, the Bahamas is truly a slice of paradise on earth.

A Twisted Climb moonscape.

Spectacular sunsets.

Hiking on my favourite island.

Our favourite anchorage in the Exumas.

"Is the tide going to reach my chair?"

Ian caught his first tuna! Do ya think he's happy?

In Canadian waters - the new Gordie Howe bridge is ahead.

We have so many fantastic memories from our adventure and have made so many new friends. It truly was the trip of a lifetime. We are blessed.

Until next time, stay safe, and don't forget to tell the ones you love that you love them.

J.C. Kavanagh, author of
The Twisted Climb - A Bright Darkness (Book 3) Best YA Book FINALIST at Critters Readers Poll 2022
AND
The Twisted Climb - Darkness Descends (Book 2) voted BEST Young Adult Book 2018, Critters Readers Poll and Best YA Book FINALIST at The Word Guild, Canada
AND
The Twisted Climb,
voted BEST Young Adult Book 2016, P&E Readers Poll
Voted Best Local Author, Simcoe County, Ontario, 2021
Novels for teens, young adults and adults young-at-heart
Email: author.j.c.kavanagh@gmail.com

www.facebook.com/J.C.Kavanagh 
www.amazon.com/author/jckavanagh
Instagram @authorjckavanagh
https://www.bookswelove.com/shop/series/the-twisted-climb

In Canada:

https://www.amazon.ca/stores/J.C.-Kavanagh/author/B01H0Q9GLA?ref=ap_rdr&shoppingPortalEnabled=true

In the U.S.

https://www.amazon.com/stores/J.C.-Kavanagh/author/B01H0Q9GLA?ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1&qid=1772905830&sr=8-1&shoppingPortalEnabled=true

 

https://www.bookswelove.com/shop/series/the-twisted-climb

Plot Twists

 

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In literature as in life plot twists happen.  Sometimes a character decides what you've mapped out is just not working for them. Sometimes a piece of crucial research throws your plotline off balance. Sometimes a secondary character muscles her way in with dialogue that is just so quirky or sparkling that she demands a larger role or even her own book.

Sometimes life plots and plans go awry too. Our recent summer plans were thrown into the winds when our daughter needed emergency eye surgery, and she needed our care in her recovery and with her active little boy. Family first, of course so...pivot and adjust all plans!

I love reading with my grandson!

Real life and writing life recently converged in a very unwelcome plot twist. My beloved co-author Jude Pittman died suddenly. It's still hard for me to accept that such a force to be reckoned with could be gone from Mother Earth. We were in the middle of working on an historical paranormal book set in Newfoundland, The Ghosts of Bell Island. She was so excited by her plans to write a story centered on someone a lot like herself called Maggie the Charmer. It's now up to me to write the story and dedicate it to my friend, ally and advocate.

Beloved Jude

I hope your plot twists do not stop you from making necessary pivots to keep adding your beauty to the world, dear readers.