Party Time by Priscilla Brown

 

Australian journalist Jasmine, stuck on a small Scottish island after a difficult assignment, finds herself learning reel dances at the local  Hogmanay party.  New Year's Eve had never been...so, well...so sexy...and is this stylishly kilted guy really who he says he is?

 

Find this contemporary romance at

  https://books2read.com/Dancing-the-Reel 

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 As teenagers many years ago, my cousin Sally and I hated family parties. The worst were those at Christmas and New Year hosted alternately by my parents and by hers. Having survived the excesses of Christmas at one house, we metaphorically took deep breaths and braced the New Year scene at the other.

Our mothers would sit at the kitchen table, their gossiping accompanied by rapidly depleting bottles of white wine and quantities of strawberry jam tarts. If a reason had ever existed for these specific edibles, it was lost in the annals of long ago New Year's Eves. If we took our clothes off and danced on the table, we doubted they'd have noticed. Our fathers occupied the living room, hers thumping away on the piano and mine making excruciating noises on his violin. Lucky the houses in this street were detached, so unlikely the neighbours would have their ears assaulted, but even so, anyone outside would surely cringe at the volume of noise. But the 'oldies' were having fun. 

For our 'fun,' and I don't remember how old we were, one year at my house Sally and I took from the wine rack a bottle of red wine which the parents probably thought they had hidden in a shoe cupboard, two glasses, and the few leftover mince pies. In my bedroom, we sat on the bed, disappointed there were no more pies, testing the wine while wondering how people could drink this disgusting stuff but nevertheless sipping away, and giggling over stupid boys in our respective high school classes. Neither of us felt at our best the next morning.

Chatting with friends about previous New Year's celebrations, mid-summer here in Australia, one described how his parents had hired a jumping castle to be installed in their large backyard for their extended family of children. Aged about ten, he and his twin brother had a fight while jumping, both fell off and each broke an arm. Another recalled how when teenagers their family joined with two others for a picnic in a park. She and a boy from another family ran a contest to see who could catch the most cicadas in ten minutes. Children nil, cicadas safe.

May 2023 be kind to you, with lots of good books to read. Stay safe. Priscilla.

 https://bwlpublishing.ca

 

https://priscillabrownauthor.com 

Celebrating the 100th Anniversary of American Women Winning the Right to Vote by J.Q. Rose

 

Deadly Undertaking by J.Q. Rose
Romantic suspense, Paranormal

Click here to find mysteries by J.Q. Rose at BWL Publishing

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Hello and welcome to the BWL Authors Insider Blog!! 

In my mysteries, my heroines are strong, capable women who stand up to obstacles in their lives. Today we are celebrating strong, purpose-driven women who banded together to fight with everything they had to gain a say in their government. The 19th amendment which is the law that allows American women to vote was ratified and certified 100 years ago this month.

Celebrating the 100th Anniversary of American Women Winning the Right to Vote by J.Q. Rose

Groups of women fought and struggled to win women's suffrage in the mid-19th century in the USA.

 Image courtesy of pixabay artist fotshot

The 19th amendment to the US constitution was passed by Congress on June 4 and ratified on August 18, giving American women the right to vote in the USA. Secretary of State Bainbridge Colby certified the ratification on August 26, 1918. Although the amendment became law in the land, it did not eliminate state laws in place that kept black Americans from voting due to the requirement to pay taxes and pass literacy tests. It would take another fifty years to gain suffrage for black women.

Women began organizing, petitioning, picketing and parading in what today we would call protesting, to achieve awareness and support for laws to allow women to vote in the mid-1800s. Several Western states had passed laws by 1912 due to men's support of the suffrage movement.

Wyoming hoped to attract females to their state filled with gold miners--a ratio of six men to one female. But just as in contemporary politics, an ulterior motive played into the decision. Wyoming's political party in power allowed the vote, figuring if they gave women the right to vote in Wyoming elections, the ladies would vote for them!

According to ourdocuments.gov, " Achieving this milestone required a lengthy and difficult struggle; victory took decades of agitation and protest. Beginning in the mid-19th century, several generations of woman suffrage supporters lectured, wrote, marched, lobbied, and practiced civil disobedience to achieve what many Americans considered a radical change of the Constitution. Few early supporters lived to see the final victory in 1920."

Vote!!

2020 is the USA presidential election year. Please be sure to vote this year. We owe it to our sisters who sacrificed so much to obtain the right to vote.

In the 21st century, many women in the world do not have a say in their government. We can support women globally and come together during Women's International Day on March 8, 2021. The Women's International Network is a "global community of women helping women live their best lives through celebration, self-improvement and service." Click here to learn more about this organization.

Click here to visit JQ Rose online

CULTURE SHOCK - Or, don’t mess with apple pie - by Vijaya Schartz

AKIRA'S CHOICE, Byzantium Book 2 Sci-fi Romance
More of Vijaya Schartz' book from BWL HERE

Edouard Herriot famously said that culture is what remains when one has forgotten everything. Culture in the French vocabulary of the period meant learning and knowledge, but the saying is also true in today’s extended meaning of the word. 

We speak of ancient cultures, of the Egyptians, the Greeks, the Romans, their philosophy and their mythology. We speak of the great artists of the Renaissance. They left long lasting testimonies of their history, architecture, writings, and way of life… Some say modern culture will only be evident when we are long gone and forgotten. 

I say culture is not only art, architecture, wisdom, or knowledge, but it is how we treat each other, and how we celebrate life, family, and the traditions that accompany good and bad events in our lives. 

Being raised in France, my first contact with America over the course of a three-month summer vacation was a true culture shock. I didn’t understand fast-food. Who in their right mind would eat ketchup? Why stick a piece of dry meat between two dry buns, when you can simmer your own coq-au-vin and bake potatoes au-gratin? 

I couldn’t understand why Americans worked such long hours and never took extended vacations. The French, even in those days, took five weeks of mandatory paid vacation each year, and often took a few extra, unpaid vacation weeks as well, with their employers’ blessing. Many French companies still close completely for an entire month each summer. 

When I returned to France, that fall, I declared that I would never want to live in America. These people were crazy, frantic, and didn’t know how to live… and they probably thought the same thing about me. 

As things go, life has a way of making you regret such statements made in the ignorance of youth. While studying in an ashram in India, where I felt totally at ease, despite the many cultural differences, I met an American man and fell in love. We were married, and I came to live with him in the United States. 

Imagine my reaction when he took me to eat a T-bone steak at Jack in the Box, on a paper plate, with plastic flatware. The culture shock was back. Never in my life had I cut a steak with a plastic knife. From then on, I cooked at home. It was great for a while, but soon, my husband missed American food… which I didn’t care for, and didn’t know how to cook. 

This was decades ago, and I since learned to appreciate American food and culture. I understand that a busy life requires take out or fast food, in order to spend more time with family. My mother spent all her time in the kitchen. I can now fully enjoy a barbecue party, or a seafood buffet. I absolutely love apple pie a la mode (which surprised me at first, because the French do not eat pie with ice-cream). I smile when I hear my neighbors shouting at the referee during a football game… although I still cook most of my meals at home… you know… trying to eat healthy. 

I even corrected my husband when he said America had no culture, compared to the Europeans, the Greeks or the Egyptians. But America is still young. These ancient cultures had a chance to mature over many centuries. Besides, Lady Liberty could compete with the colossus of Rhodes, and what about the faces carved in the rock of Mount Rushmore? 

Because America is young, it experiences many growing pains and is learning to cope with change, and handle diversity. It’s not an easy task, and progress is painful and takes time. Yet in the midst of all that, America has all kinds of great cultural traditions, because of its diversity. Emigrants from many countries melted their cultures together so much that we do not exactly know where American traditions come from. You can experience Mardi-Gras in New Orleans, or a Greek Festival in California. American pizza (nothing like its Italian ancestor) is now conquering Europe. Who hasn’t enjoyed a bagel smeared with cream cheese, or sushi, or Mexican food, Thai food, or Chinese take out? America embraced all these different cultures and from them, forged its own. 

But Thanksgiving is definitely a unique holiday of the American continent (although Europe is now trying to copy it), and I am ready to enjoy it to the fullest. I wish you all a fantastic Thanksgiving, with turkey, stuffing, sweet potatoes, cranberry sauce, pumpkin pie, and all. And I’ll take my pie a la mode, merci beaucoup.

For a total culture shock, read ASHES FOR THE ELEPHANT GOD, a reincarnation love story set in India.

amazon  -  B&N  -  Smashwords  -  Kobo

To scatter her brother's ashes over the Narmada River, Fabienne leaves France for the mysterious India of her childhood dreams. As she awakens to a newfound spirituality, unexpected visions of a former life during the Raj stir ancient yearnings for a long lost passion. Mukunda, the palace architect Fabienne loved a century and a half ago, lives again as an American engineer and works on the local dam project.

As Fabienne falls in love again with India and the man of her destiny, the tapestry of her previous life unfolds. But, in the karmic land of the blue gods, a ruthless foe lies in wait. The Kali worshiper, who murdered the two lovers in a faraway past, has come back through the centuries to thwart their dream once more.

"... a broad-stroked, magnificent picture of a lavish India of the past and the present... a vivid tale of suspense... a gripping account of a woman coming to terms with heightened awareness... destiny." The Book Reader

"... entertaining, fast-paced yet deeply spiritual... Here is a superior metaphysical novel!" Richard Fuller - Metaphysical Reviews

"... passionate... love, lust, faith and deception... a magnificent offering to the world of fiction..." The Charlotte Austin Review

"...rich, sensual... multilayered... a thriller... magical, mystical book..." Writer's Digest

"...a striking and highly recommended metaphysical novel..." Midwest Book Review

Vijaya Schartz, author
 Strong heroines, brave heroes, cats, romance with a kick
 http://www.vijayaschartz.com
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Fun Celebration and Recognition Days

Find my books here.here

Part of the setting for writing a novel is choosing a date or time period in which the story takes place. Sometimes it is a pivotal point for the story, where other times it is simply a way of letting your reader know there is a reason the main character is in a phone booth instead of talking on a cell phone.

In my writing, sometimes the climax of the story is a very particular date – the first Kentucky Derby in SPINNING THROUGH TIME; an Independence Day celebration (4^th of July) in PROSPECTING FOR LOVE, or the date a steamboat sank in HOLD ON TO THE PAST. There were very specific reasons for the dates I used.

Yet in other stories, I mentioned a particular event/date simply to enhance the setting. Referring to college basketball’s March Madness needs no explanation, but it was a way of introducing my readers to the time of year in a way other than simply saying “It was March.”

There have even been times when I made up a particular celebration day. After all, why shouldn’t there be a Mermaid Festival on the small island of Lockabee to celebrate the legend of mermaids saving a group of fishermen? (PRELUDE AND PROMISES)

If you want to add an interesting celebration or a fun recognition day, you don’t even have to make them up. Someone already did it for you. A complete list for every day of the year is located at https://www.timeanddate.com/holidays/fun/. It is only one of several lists I found in an easy internet search. The first thing I looked for was my birthday, July 13^th.  “Embrace Your Geekness Day”? Why couldn’t it have been National Margarita Day? 

Yesterday was Lost Sock Recognition Day, which reminded me of a conversation with my eight year old grandson. While visiting, I was helping sort socks from the laundry and with three children, there was always a pile of socks with no matches. My grandson suggested writing a story about the lost socks. I looked on line to see if I could find such a book for him and that’s when I came across May 9 as Lost Socks  National recognition Day, but since I couldn’t find an already published book, I wrote a short story which of course, included my grandson and his siblings.

The fun thing about being a writer is that not everything has to be written for publication. This little story was something fun that I put together with Microsoft Publisher and generic clip art, but after reading it, my grandson wanted to write a sequel, which we are working on now.

 For those of you who like writing exercises, pick a day and write a story, a poem or an essay. Why do we recognize this day? How did it come to be? What can be done to celebrate this special day? And if you don’t like the “recognition day” for your birthday, check out these other sites, or make up one of your own!
https://nationaltoday.com/national-day-calendar/
https://nationaldaycalendar.com/calendar-at-a-glance/

By the way, today, May 10^th, is “National Clean Your Room Day”. I can say for certain it’s not going to happen here.

Christmases Past...by Sheila Claydon

My latest book, Empty Hearts, is a vintage romance. It isn't about Christmas, but the cover, designed by the wonderful Michelle Lee at Stardust Creations at http://michelleleedesigns.net evokes the spirit of Christmas, chilly though it is.

I have very mixed feelings about Christmas. For a start I don't like cold weather. I'm not that keen on crowded shops either, or the ever increasing razzmatazz that is the modern celebration. On the other hand I love seeing family and friends, and I especially love seeing how much children enjoy it.

This year, all my immediate family are going to spend Christmas together for first time in 9 years so the house is going to be very full, as are the cupboards and the fridge, with the overflow stored in a cold outhouse. Consequently I have had to start thinking about it much earlier than usual this year, and this has prompted me to recall the Christmases I enjoyed when I was small.

The first one I remember was the one when my parents gave me a dolls house. I was probably about 5 years old and it wasn't any old dolls house, it was one they made themselves. Money was tight so buying a fancy one was out of the question, so my father divided a wooden box into 4 'rooms' and papered each one with scraps of wallpaper. Offcuts of carpet were stuck to the floor and curtains were hung at the windows on tiny lengths of wire so I could open and close them. Although the windows themselves were merely holes in the wall I thought the whole thing was magical. My Mother, meanwhile, was busy with the furniture. I can still clearly remember the flower-patterned sofa and two armchairs. They were comfortably padded and had frills around the base and it was a very long time before I discovered that they were made out of matchboxes. The bed in the upstairs room had pillows and sheets and a bedspread (no duvets or throws in those days) and there was also an upholstered cot (another matchbox) for the baby.  I don't remember the rest of the furniture so clearly but I know there was a bathroom and a kitchen with a few pieces of bought furniture. No stairs of course but my family of dolls were all very adept at clambering up the walls to the upper floor, and I certainly don't recall considering that a defect. Far from it. I thought it was the most perfect house I had ever seen, especially as my Father had somehow found some stick-on paper that looked like tiles for the sloping roof. What a gift, and knowing how I feel when I see my grandchildren open a special present, I imagine they had as much joy as I did.

When I was older books and drawing materials were my preferred option, and there are two other Christmases I particularly remember. The first is when I received an artist's palette, paintbrushes, some tiny tubes of oil paint and a few canvases. My parents and grandmother all had to sit for their portraits and for years those pictures hung on the walls of my childhood home. Sadly they disappeared a long time ago, probably around the time I got married and my mother cleared out my bedroom. As I fondly remember them as true likeness it is probably just as well I can no longer see them and  be disillusioned as to my artistic skills.

The final Christmas that was special was the one where every present was a book! I can still remember my parents' faces as the pile grew taller and taller (I had a lot of aunts and uncles!). I think they were worried I would be disappointed, but I wasn't. I loved being given what was essentially a mini library and I still have some of those books today, ones that I have shared with my granddaughters. What Katy Did is a favourite.

So when I see my grandchildren open their presents this Christmas I will be remembering the excitement and hopefully at least one of them will receive a present that they will never forget.

Merry Christmas!

You can see all Sheila's books at: http://bookswelove.net/authors/claydon-sheila/ They are available at:

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