Aspiring writers are told “write what you know”.
I took that advice to heart.
I know two things… business (based on decades in new business development) and romance (based on falling and staying in love with the man of my dreams).
September 2, 2009
September 3, 2009
September 10, 2009
A Short Story On Author Island
September 10, 2009
September 15, 2009
September 21, 2009
October 12, 2009
Interview And Fave Paranormal Book Contest
December 1, 2009
December 6, 2009
Host - My Christmas Traditions
February 15, 2010
“It don’t need no hemming or hawing or whatever else you’re doing down there,” the older man blustered. “They ain’t gonna fall down and that’s all that matters.”
To him. His wife and daughter may think differently. Crystal put the last pin in. “But then we wouldn’t be able to see these boots and these boots,” she tapped the shiny cowboy boot with a finger, “deserve to be seen.”
“Da-” he stopped himself in time. “Straight. Made with all American leather. Real cow. None of that sissy ostrich or kangaroo or zebra.”
Zebra? They made boots out of zebra hide? Crystal straightened, meeting Ken’s laughing gaze. “Done.”
“Done?” Bushy eyebrows slammed down. “You told me,” he rounded on his son, “this was an all evening affair. Brought your mom in and your brothers and even that lunatic sister of yours.”
Then where were they? Crystal glanced around her small shop.
“They’re waiting at Mel’s Coffee Shop,” Ken explained. “They think we’re at the lawyer’s office.” Right. Because the tuxes were a surprise. “The Cinema 6 is playing True Grit tonight, dad. Fortieth anniversary screening. Thought you’d like to see it.”
“True Grit.” The dad’s eyes danced. “Now THAT’s a movie.” He drew his hands, gunfighter style, squeezing his thumb triggers. “John Wayne.”
“And I also thought,” Ken looked down, making a sweeping movement with his right foot, “Miss Crystal might like to join us. If,” his chest heaved as he took a big breath, “she wants.”
“Do I want?” He was asking her out. This big, handsome, charming man. Crystal gave him her best smile. “‘I want Tom Chaney to hang for killing my father.’” She quoted from the movie she’d watched a hundred times with her own dad. “That’s what I want.”
Both men stared at her, their mouths open.
“You’re sitting beside me,” the dad declared, hugging her close.
“No way, no how.” Ken took her hand, his callused fingers gentle. “She’s my date. You sit with Mom.”
A rare photo with Ralph Fiennes
in a tie.
Usually he has the first 2 (or 3 or 4) buttons on his shirts open.
Very 70’s but he’s Ralph Fiennes so that’s okay.
I love the cuff links.
I have a weakness for a man in cuff links.
Photo Taken By evita2005
(See Link For Copyright Information)
Crystal hustled out of the back stockroom as the bell over the store door rang. Officially they were closed, but as she was in the store, she figured they might as well be open.
The sight that greeted her made her second guess her policy. Two huge male mountains scowled at the selection, extreme irritation written across their craggy faces.
“Good evening.” She fixed a smile on her lips, dusting off her clothes. “I’m Crystal. What can I help you with?”
“I need a da-” the older man caught himself in time “monkey suit.” More grumbles she couldn’t make out from behind that bushy beard.
“My sister, his daughter is getting married,” the younger, clean shaven one added, his baseball cap in hand. He was handsome with a weathered face, square chin, blue eyes.
“I see,” that they were here under duress. Neither of them wanting to wear a tux. “Does she have a particular style in mind?”
“She doesn’t know,” the brother confessed.
“Said I could walk her down the aisle like I am.” That was one easy going bride. They were both wearing checked cotton shirts, rugged blue jeans, scuffed work boots. “But no, her mother said we were to dress up. Surprise her, she said.” The father glowered at his feet. “More like make us look like jack-”
“Dad.” A caution. “Mom gave us this.” The son held out a clear baggie. Crystal took it, his callused fingers brushing hers, a shiver of awareness nearly paralyzing her arm.
Fabric samples. “This will help.” She circled the two of them, measuring them with her eyes. “I can’t see you as James Bond types.”
“Da…” another self censor, “English fairy” from the father.
Blue eyes met Crystal’s and they both smiled. The beard, it was a clue, reminded her of… “On a warm summers evening on a train bound for nowhere” she sang softly under her breath.
The gristly older man’s face lit up. “You know The Gambler?”
Jackpot. “My name’s Crystal, isn’t it?”
“Crystal Gayle.” He stepped closer. He smelled of sap and the outdoors. Must be lumber men. “You do have brown eyes.” He laughed at his own wit. “This here,” a big hand slapped the son’s shoulder, “is Kenny.”
“I prefer Ken.” A tolerant smile.
She smiled back, she couldn’t help it, and then forced herself to focus on the dad. “I bet you’d make a handsome gambler. You have the shoulders.” She spread a measuring tape across them. “To pull it off. Not many men do. A vest in the silver to match your daughter’s colors. A string tie. Black coat. Hhhmmm…” She paused. “You’d need a silver buckle to make it work though.” She distracted him as she measured his imposing girth.
“I have one of those,” a proud boom. “Won it in the lumberjack showdown of ‘89. Might be too flashy though, solid silver.”
“I don’t think that’s possible.” She ignored the son’s endearing dimple. “The flashier, the better.”
The tan suit says summer to me.
Here, the very handsome Ryan Reynolds
is wearing a well tailored, slim fitting tan suit
(slim fitting suits are not meant
to be worn with hands in pockets).
What you can’t see is under the suit,
he is wearing a darker tan vest.
The dark tie (not in the earth tone family)
is a strange choice
but hey, it is Ryan Reynolds,
he can pull it off.
Photo Taken By hollywoodstarsighting
(See Link For Copyright Information)