This is one of those lists days for the lazy. Which happens to be me today.

As kids we often dream of things we want to do as adults, when we reach that magical age where so many opportunities open to us. As we become older we often forget that childhood wonder and stop dreaming. As a writer I’m always dreaming about something. As an author who loves to write suspense, I think of some pretty bizarre scenes on a daily basis. And I mean daily!  Here’s some scenes I don’t plan to reenact, even if my characters might.

1. Travel down the Amazon in a rowboat. Or any kind of boat for that matter.
2. Ride in a helicopter. Okay, I’ll admit it. I’m not fond of helicopters.
3. Walk out on the glass observatory at the Grand Canyon. I’m going there this summer but skipping the stepping off the edge into nothing experience.
4. Wrestling a Komodo Dragon.
5. Jumping into a river of piranhas.
6. Swimming with a shark.
7. Skydiving.
8. Hunting real animals with my compound archery bow. (My bow is for target shooting only, thanks very much.)
9. Seeing a bear in the wild.  We have them in the area, but I’d rather not see one up close.
10. Seeing a mountain lion in the wild. Yep, we have them in the area, and I’d rather not see those up close either.

Hey, maybe I should write a heroine that is chicken of everything! Just kidding.  Tell me a few things you plan to never do, and you may win a free download of my Ellora’s Cave jungle adventure JUNGLE FEVER (warning, erotic romance content.) I’ll select a winner at the end of the day. Happy adventures and happy dreaming!

Denise A. Agnew

Step off the edge…

Into dark, delicious adventure…

www.deniseagnew.com

What is inspiration? Authors hear that sitting their buns in the chair and “just writing” is important for an author worth their salt (and it is). But I have to step up for inspiration and tell why I think it can create some of the best work ever. In other words, don’t diss the muse because sometimes the muse just might provide you with motivation so deep and genuine you’ll create work that will knock socks off many of your readers. 

I don’t mean just the inspiration that comes in the form of a pair of excellent abs staring at you from a photograph near your computer (though it can be a distinct inspiration during those love scenes that need a kick in the pants). Muse isn’t a dirty word, but a valuable part of creating a story that not only makes the author immensely proud but makes readers drool for more. Meaty, multi-layered stories often come to light because the author wants to tell a story bigger and better and to reach deep for truth. Does it always work? No. But if an author respects the muse and the genuineness it can give, the muse just might respect the author. 

As writers we like to think that everything we write is worthy and that we gave it our best shot. If we’re honest, though, we know when a particular scene or chapter, or an entire book just sings for us and when it was “meh.” Come on, fess up. You know what I mean. We’ve all got ‘em. Those stories that have nothing technically wrong in the execution, but the point of views didn’t run as deep as they could have or we were too tired to take the extra mile to reach deep inside and tell everything demanded of the story. 

Certainly there are times when we thought we were writing drek and it turned out fantastic stuff. Not merely nice or good or interesting. I mean raw, passionate, live passages that felt super down to the bones. I have a scene in the third book in my vampire trilogy, HAUNTED SOULS (www.ellorascave.com) that I love to show as an excerpt because I feel it illustrated all the emotions I wanted for the story. Angst, passion, fear, doubt, adventure, redemption. It’s where the vampire hero finds the heroine trapped in a cave and rescues her. The scene crackles with the unrequited sparks flying between them. Her desire for rescue, her fear of him, her feelings for him. All of it jived and felt right. 

In my time travel BRIDGE THROUGH THE MIST (Ellora’s Cave www.ellorascave.com) the secondary characters came vividly alive for me, begging to have their say. And the love scenes, the repartee back and forth between the characters burned bright as I wrote them. I was totally into the time period, the clothing, the vernacular, the ideals and beliefs of the time. 

In MALE CALL (Samhain Publishing www.samhainpublishing.com), I was mega inspired as I wrote the letters that went back and forth between the hero and the heroine. Maybe because using the “I” POV in the letters gave it a special freshness. I liked letting it all hang out, to allow the characters to verbalize whatever came into their head. It set me free, and from the response from readers, I think I managed to infuse that story with a little something extra. 

In CLOSE QUARTERS (Samhain Publishing www.samhainpublishing.com), the hero has secrets that keep him in the background. He wants peace and nothing to remind him of his former occupation. When he reveals to the heroine why this is the case, I knew the scene was right on and would hopefully strike an emotional gut-wrenching understanding in the reader. 

So authors, aspiring and published, when have you noticed you were spot on with your writing? 

Readers, when have you noticed the same thing in your own life? With a project, or an adventure? Come on now, I know you know what I mean.

Humans are strange creatures. Very strange. Think about it. We say we don’t like real life danger, yet we spend time in front of the television watching Most Shocking or Most Daring (I do), or we thrill to the danger in an Indiana Jones movie or the psychological scare of Disturbia (love that movie.) Some of us take it a step further and actually sign up for the white-knuckle experience of skydiving, base-jumping, rock climbing, or white water rafting. Truth is that most of us want the excitement to be vicarious. Take me. When I was a little kid, I was a girly girl. On the playground, I would say to the kid hanging on the monkey bars, “You’re gonna fall off that.” What happened? The kid would fall off. I felt vindicated. 

It wasn’t until about ’85, when I joined my local archaeological society, that I started to have relatively safe adventures, and I loved it. About the worst it could get would be heat exhaustion, sunburn and tangling with rattlesnakes. One scene in The Mummy Returns parallels my archaeological life. Remember the scene where Evie discovers a snake crawling across her boot? That really did happen to me. I looked down and there was this small dark snake crawling over my boot and my automatic reaction was the same as Evie’s. I simply swung my foot and flipped the snake away. For a minute I thought maybe I’d imagined it, and probably no one would have believed me if they hadn’t seen me do it. Heck, now that I live in the desert Southwest (I was in Colorado when I had the boot slinging snake experience), I have seen more snakes, poisonous and otherwise, than I want to see. Still, the archaeology continued to be awesome in Colorado and was awesome when I found a new group in the Southwest. 

One adventure I’ll never forget, though, came when my hubby and I ventured to Edinburgh, Scotland (we lived in England at the time) in the 90’s. We wanted to see New Year’s Eve celebrations. Now we’re not that fond of big crowds of any type, so we should have realized that 250,000 people in a small space would prove overwhelming. We had a few hours to wander around in the city in the central area including the Royal Mile. That was great except for the cold and the hoards of over toasted party goes.

After the beautiful fireworks display presented from the top of Edinburgh Castle (still the best fireworks I’ve seen to date), we headed down the hill. We’d linked arms securely because of the huge crush of people. We quickly discovered that wouldn’t do the trick. The throng pushed in on all sides but it threatened to separate us. My hubby wrapped his arms around me from behind and held tight as he sort of maneuvered us like a big spider through the crowd. Basically he feared losing me in the mess of people, and I feared loosing him. We could have met up back at the tour bus, but it still would have been intimidating to say the least. 

I did have another adventure in Edinburgh the night BEFORE this all happened, but I figure that is for another blog. Maybe next week. Speaking of adventures, I’ve seen the trailer for the Nicole Kidman and Hugh Jackman movie Australia which comes out in November. Now that looks like a great combo for a historical action/adventure and romance. Can’t wait for it!

So tell me about your real life adventures!

I know many of you enjoy Alpha heroes that are still Beta enough to cradle a baby and yet tough enough to protect a woman. In my HOT ZONE series at Samhain Publishing www.samhainpublishing.com, I wanted to introduce these heroes in “slice-of-life” stories set in a small Wyoming town. So far the response has been outstanding, and the next installment is CLOSE QUARTERS (May 20 release). How did I get the idea for this story? Well, I was hanging around one day doing dishes by hand (boring). I saw in my imagination a man dressed in a Hawaiian shirt with horrible colors that was way too big for him. I saw him sitting in a diner being covertly observed by a woman. The woman thinks his Hawaiian shirt is ugly. A few moments later, her hasty impression of him is altered forever when the coffee shop is robbed. Here’s a blurb and excerpt to give you a small taste of CLOSE QUARTERS:

Neena Williamson is positive the man who just walked into her favorite café is all wrong for the local charity’s new hot male calendar. For starters, he’s wearing the most butt-ugly Hawaiian shirt on the face of the earth. He doesn’t fit anyone’s image of a smokin’ hardbody, even if her friend insists he’s perfect for Mr. December. When a gunman robs the café, Mr. December proves that underneath his bad taste in clothes, he knows how to bring it. Clarksville, Wyoming is the perfect place for Mitch Gilroy to hide in plain sight. He enjoys his low-key handyman job, and no one pries into his former life. But in an instant, Mitch is forced to remember everything he’s tried so hard to forget. Thrown together by sudden violence, Neena and Mitch quickly discover how tangled their emotions can become. And the only way to banish the monsters that haunt them is to do the one thing they fear most. Become vulnerable—to each other.

He moved swiftly, pressing her back into the corner, his body a shield. If anything ricocheted, he’d feel the sting of a bullet first.
Her face buried against his shoulder and he wrapped one arm around her waist. The other hand came up and cradled her head to his shoulder. Her fingers twisted in his shirt, bunching gobs of the loose garment in her fists. He held her like that, his breath coming quickly, her heart slamming in her chest, for what seemed forever. The shots stopped. Dragging noises and the sounds of something massive being pulled in front of the door startled her.
She pulled back slightly. “Oh God.”
Handyman’s eyes no longer held ice. Those deep brown eyes turned dark with serious worry. “Are you hit?”
“What?” She felt dazed.
“Are you hit?”
“No. I’m great.”
Right. If that wasn’t the stupidest, most absurd thing she’d ever said. She trembled from head to toe, and the shock of what happened reverberated through her in waves.
“You…are you okay?” she asked, the words escaping with a dry croak.
“I’m great.”
She registered the heat and hardness of his body. Her breasts mashed to his chest, his hips and thighs pressed along hers. Close up, his face held the chiseled hardness of an old west movie hero, without anything fancy to pretty him up. A cut jaw, a nose slightly on the big side. Only his mouth was sculpted, lips just right on a man—not too big, not too thin. He felt so warm, so protective—
He released her and walked toward the door. He tried the knob. When it didn’t budge, he slammed one palm against it. He tried kicking it down, but the door wouldn’t budge. She realized the room was a huge pantry with shelves on three sides. No way out.
Handyman tried budging the door one more time to no avail. “Damn it!”
That’s when true fear slammed her. Like it or not, she was trapped in a locked room with a total stranger. Tears gathered in her eyes and spilled over her eyelids before she could stop them. Handyman turned toward her, striding across the room until he cupped her shoulders.
“Hey, it’s going to be all right.”
She nodded and buried her face in her hands. “I know. I just…”
Tears spilled, and a sob escaped her.
“Hey, hey. Easy.” He gathered her close once more, and she found her hands buried in his big shirt again. As tears spilled from her and she gulped and sobbed, she tried to regain control. Embarrassment sliced her with cruel fingers. His touch slipped through her hair, gently massaging her neck.
“It’s all right. He’s gone.” Velvet and husky, his voice held safety and comfort.
Poor fashion sense or not, his voice was to die for.
So was the body pressed along hers. She felt muscles. Lots and lots of glorious muscles. Or maybe the fear had destroyed her reasoning ability and she wanted the man holding her to play the hero. Right now, with a tenderness that put her off guard, he fit the lead part in her adventure movie down to a capital T.
Only difference is, he hadn’t whipped out a gun and gone Kung Fu on the bad guy’s ass. Which in reality made perfect sense. If Handyman had played knight on a white horse, they’d be dead. She shivered and then did another stupid thing. She slid her arms around his waist and held on. Yeah, he has a trim waist, too. Hmmm…
“When that jerk pointed his gun in your face, I thought he was going to kill you right in front of me,” she whispered through a sob.
“So did I.”
His voice rumbled deeply, so matter-of-fact she couldn’t believe how distant he sounded. His arms tightened around her in a gentle squeeze, the only sign that he felt anything about his near miss with death.
“You had a gun pointed at your head, and here I am babbling like an idiot.” She gulped back another sob.
“So did you, remember? You were looking right down the barrel for a long time.”
Right. She had. Her tears started to dry, and the fright calmed somewhat. She forced herself to pull back out of his arms. “God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to go all girly like that.”
“It’s okay. What just happened scared the shit out of me, too.”
A man who’d admit his fear. Interesting. His expression might show no fear and his voice gave no indication of the trauma he’d faced. Yet he could speak the words.
Neena became aware of a shift in perception. Not a smidgen of change, but a whopping ugly belief that she’d altered in the last few minutes. That the world had undergone a drastic, nasty transformation. She’d never believed in a rosy world, but this one had sharp thorns. She held her hands in front of her. They shook. A heat wave and then a cold flash washed over her in relentless strokes. Her stomach curled. Shaking, she put her back against the one wall minus shelving and slid downward until she plopped on the floor. Cold and hard, the landing felt brutal against her ass. Incongruously she noticed a run in the right calf of her thigh-high stockings. A jagged, gaping slit that might have been there before the robber came into the coffee shop, or maybe happened sometime in between. Who knew? Who cared? For a second she gave a damn. A really big damn. Then she took a shaky breath. She was acting like an immature, shallow twit. She’d buy more. Ten pairs more if she survived her stay in this stupid pantry. Then she wanted to smack the robber across the face with her purse for the inconvenience.
* *

Hope you liked that snippet and that you enjoy finding out what secrets this “Handyman” hero has hidden in his past. Will there be other HOT ZONE stories after CLOSE QUARTERS. I’m not sayin’ yet, but it’s possible. I never say never.

As an aside, I hope you stop over at DANGER ZONE AUTHORS www.dangerzoneauthors.com when you get the chance. Danger Zone authors is comprised of several novelists who write novels with danger, suspense and action/adventure. Some of write romance, some not, but all of us love writing about the DANGER ZONE. If you stop by our website you can also sign up for our new readers group. Hope to see you there!

As a celebration of the release of CLOSE QUARTERS on May 20 at Samhain Publishing www.samhainpublishing.com, at the end of the day I’ll select a winner from the comments today to receive a free download of OVER THE LINE, my novella featuring Special Investigations Agency characters. Tell me what you like about romantic suspense and action adventure novels, and if you like military heroes, why? What makes you hot for the military man?

A Medieval Scotsman!  Woo hoo! 

BRIDGE THROUGH THE MIST
Denise A. Agnew
Available now at Ellora’s Cave www.ellorascave.com

When Alenna Carstairs is hurled through time into 1318, Scotland’s medieval world brings her face to face with hot, sexy Tynan of  MacBrahin. Infuriated with his barbaric manners, and yet sensing
vulnerability within him, she vows to discover the heartbreak that has scarred his soul.
World-weary knight, Tynan of MacBrahin lost two loves to the brutality  of other men. He can’t forgive himself for failing to protect the women who depended on him. When Alenna saves his life, her independent spirit  stirs desires so strong within him he can’t resist her. A depraved baron soon wants Alenna for his own, and Tynan must find a way to conquer this  powerful man to save her.

Alenna struggles with soul-staggering desire for Tynan, but most of all, she must convince Tynan his love is not lethal, and she is the one who can bring shine to his armor again.

Buy it here!

“Recommended Read! There is one word to describe Bridge Through the
Mist…sensational…”
Fallen Angel Reviews

“Four hearts…an exceptional tale of medieval times…The sexual
tension between these two characters was scorching…I highly recommend
this to anyone looking for a lot of action, sizzling passion and a
battle of wills that will keep the reader completely engrossed to the
very last page. Great job, Ms. Agnew. I look forward to reading more
from this wonderful author.”
Romance Studio

A water witch, Isabelle Novak has always led a chaotic, nomadic existence. But her life spins out of control when her sister—her only friend and emotional anchor — is killed by a demon. Driven by grief and a desire for revenge, she turns her back on the Coven and the rede they hold sacred: Harm thee none...

When Isabelle first encounters Thomas Monahan, she’s running on pure rage and sorrow, channeling her pain into power — and trying to freeze the life out of a warlock she holds responsible for her sister’s death. Together, they form an uneasy alliance to hunt and destroy a demon of tremendous power. As head of the Coven, earth witch Thomas must thwart Isabelle’s dark impulses, but his very presence stirs deeper desires she never knew she had…

Buy here! Or here!

I had everything a woman could want.

My husband James. The house on the lake. My life. Our perfect life. And then Alex came to visit. The first time I saw my husband’s best friend, I didn’t like him. Didn’t like how James changed when he was around, didn’t like how his penetrating eyes followed me everywhere. But that didn’t stop me from wanting him. And surprisingly, James didn’t seem to mind.

It was meant to be fun. Something the three of us shared for those hot summer weeks Alex stayed with us. Nobody was supposed to fall in or out of love. I didn’t need another man, not even one who oozed sex like honey and knew all the secrets I didn’t know, the secrets my husband hadn’t shared. After all, we had a perfect life. I loved my husband.

But I wasn’t the only one.

Buy it here or here or here.

Last week I finished the first draft on my latest book and decided I’d celebrate. Because I’ve been in the writing business a long time, I think I’ve become lax in acknowledging and rewarding myself for achievements. A new book comes out, I finish a first draft, I get a great review, a reader sends me a fan letter…you name it, I tend not to celebrate it. Like most people, I sometimes overemphasize the importance or relevance of a bad event, like a less than stellar review.   I forget the fact that most of the time, 99.9 percent of the time, the reviews I get are favorable to fantastic. 

One of the ways I decided to reward myself is to remember that taking time off after I write a novel is a GOOD idea. In fact, it’s healthy. After all, writing a novel is a creative endeavor. Recharging the creative well is one of those things, like celebrating a great review, which authors can get in the habit of forgetting. We tend to say, “need to get on the stick” and start researching that next book, etc., etc. I have a strong work ethic, so staying at home doing absolutely nothing but whatever blows my skirt up seems somehow LAZY with capital letters. Then there is the fear factor. What if I take a week off and decide not to write ever again? Not likely. 

One thing I did to feel less guilty about recharging the creative well was to make a list of other activities I wanted to accomplish besides writing. I cleaned and polished furniture and did other chores. As far as fun things for the creative well, I’ve read three fantastic books in the last three weeks. This Monday I was recharged and ready to look at the first draft of the book with fresh eyes. The week I took off from writing was good for me, and I’m so glad I did it. 

HUGE congrats to Denise Agnew who finaled in the Passionate Plume Contest! Go Denise! The book she finaled with was Male Call, the first book in her Hot Zone series available from Samhain. I read it and I LOVED it. Woot!

Her sexy letters are his only lifeline in his dangerous world…

Successful computer software engineer Eve Carmichael melts under yet another hotter than hot letter written by Reserve army soldier Sean O’Callahan. Yet Eve can’t take the thought of his life in danger overseas, and she resolves to get a sex life—and a life period. That means forgetting Sean before anything bad can happen to him. To celebrate her thirty-fifth birthday, Eve plans a trip to Male Call, a male review club. Still, she worries about Sean. She hasn’t received a letter from him in too many weeks. And oh, how she longs for those flirtatious, hot letters.

Sean finds Eve’s letters to be the only lifeline in his increasingly chaotic world. As their feelings grow hot and heavy, he can’t wait to return home and kindle that pure firepower.

When Eve receives a letter from Sean saying he’s been wounded, her fears are realized. But fate and a little mischievous planning by her friends will serve up the greatest surprise of all.

You can buy it here.

Other books in the series. Aren’t these some HOT covers? Wow!

You can buy them here, here, and the next one here- on sale May 20!

Here’s a new release from more Bradford Bunchers!

Behind closed doors, the real games begin…

Winning it big.

That’s the name of the game at Las Vegas’s Liege Hotel and Casino, where the hottest fantasies hinge on a roll of the dice…and the tantalizing knowledge that anything could happen before sunrise.

Cocktail waitress Carinna wants a man to tie her up, not tie her down. Little does she know that her most willing partner yet has something else planned for this fiery Latina bombshell.

Dahlia is a burlesque dancer with a brain for business and a bod for sin. Her latest admirer may be a sweet-talking Casanova, but despite what he thinks she’s not giving anything away free.

Meanwhile, Amy has the perfect plan to rob the Liege Casino blind…until the intimidating owner catches her red-handed. Now she knows she’s going to pay… with both pleasure and pain.

Professional shill Cassidy is ready to experience a breathless rendezvous with her “friend with benefits.” But when he proposes five delicious nights of sexy blackjack, the stakes have never been so high.

Can be purchased here or here.

And last, but certainly not least is Cynthia Eden’s new release! Woot!

In her sexy and suspenseful new novel, Cynthia Eden introduces readers to a seductive world where powerful night creatures ignite dark, dangerous hungers…

Dr. Emily Drake’s patients tend to be a little unusual. Instead of the typical therapist’s caseload of midlife crises and mother fixations, Emily treats vampires with blood phobias and sex-demons looking for meaningful relationships. But her gift for recognizing and healing the Other—those creatures of the night that most humans don’t even know exist—requires a few house rules. First: Never trust a shifter. Especially not one like Detective Colin Gyth whose gold-flecked eyes and predatory air make Emily realize how much she’s been longing to lose control…

Colin can’t believe the doctor he’s been assigned to work with on the Night Butcher murder investigation is the one person who could expose his true identity as a wolf shifter. Smart, sexy, and stubborn as hell, Emily brings out the alpha male in Colin, unleashing a wild, heady desire that takes them both over the edge.

But in the shadows, the Night Butcher waits…eager to spill Emily’s blood and taste her terror. And he’ll use any means to destroy her, including the one person she has grown to trust…

You can buy it here or here.

I’ll admit it. This week I had an A-number one case of blogging block. That insane illness that creeps up on an author when they realize that they don’t have a single idea for their blog due this week. Then I thought…why not blog about blogging? Heck, that can’t be a novel idea, right? You see, I’m a blogging cynic. How many blogs to you actually look at in one day? What draws you to them? I visit one blog a day on average. Sometimes two, and if I visit three, I must be on some kind of drugs.  No, honestly I visit Access Romance www.accessromance.com and The Bradford Bunch www.thebradfordbunch.com often, if not every day. I also drop by Tess Gerritsen’s blog, which I love. Soon I am going completely insane agreeing to yet another blog spot at Danger Zone Authors www.dangerzoneauthors.com (under construction). Danger Zone Authors debuts on May 11, so I hope you stop by and visit us. 

Is all this bloggin’ good for us? I fear that blogs will be featured in dire news reports one day that sound like this, “Scientists say that blogging causes cancer.” After all, doesn’t everything cause some form of cancer? I say this only half tongue in cheek. One day red wine was good for your heart. The next day if you are a postmenopausal woman it’ll give you an increased risk for cancer. So why not blogging? Scientists could tell you today that bloggin’, like any form of writing, is good for your brain cells and keeps them functioning…like a game of Sudoku (did I spell that right?) The next…blogging hits the dirt because all those brain cells are now dying from blog overload. :) 

What motivates me to blog, you might ask? It’s a marketing tool for me, yes. Readers might like what they read and decided they’ll give this ole author a try if they haven’t already. I know my favorite blogs connect with me on a deeper level, though, than just marketing. Blogs can be a wonderful way to communicate with others no matter what your reasons are for doing it. When you read a blog, what is most likely to draw you into wanting to come back and read more? 

That’s all for my blog today, except for revealing one truly twisted author daydream that flashed into my head as I was writing this blog. It was sort of Stephen King-ish or Dean Koontz-ish. It wouldn’t surprise me one day if reporters came on the news looking glammed up, serious expressions pinned on the camera and said, “Scientists today tell us there is a good chance that watching television news causes cancer.” 

Denise, walking away with a serious case of smarty pants. 

A hearty welcome to Megan Hart and Vivi Anna, who have joined our lovely blog. It’s great to have you here, ladies.  On to my regularly scheduled programming.

I’m cheating on this week’s blog. I’m making life easy on moi, as Miss Piggy might say by typing up a Thursday Eight. Not thirteen or fourteen or four. Eight. Why eight? Because I’ve always loved the number eight. It is my lucky number. Here are eight things you don’t know about me.

On my eighteenth birthday it was the eighth day of the eighth month of 1980. How bizarre is that?

I’m constantly amazed there are people that read my books that weren’t even born when I was eighteen on the eighth day of the eighth month of 1980.

I actually like some of the angst-filled, emotionally-charged, copious poetry at eighteen.

My favorite ice cream evvvvvaaa is chocolate mint.

Despite being forty-five, I can recall being a teenager. You couldn’t pay me enough to do it again.

My favorite holiday is Halloween.

In a fit of insanity a really long time ago, I once considered joining the Air Force. I think that idea lasted about one day.  Not that there is anything wrong with joining the Air Force. It just wouldn’t have been good for me to join.

Really is a word I really like to use too often.

I’m REALLY a great-aunt and a grandmother. Holy rusted metal Batman!

Some of my earliest genealogy research traces parts of my family back to the 1400’s in England, Scotland and Wales and France. My Irish ancestors are a bit more obscure.

Some of my ancestors were born in Picton Castle in Wales. Now I understand why I’ve always found castles fascinating.

Okay, I know I said eight things you don’t know about me, but since I’ve always hated math with a passion, I wrote eleven. Sue me. (WINK.)

Until next time, live, love and dream.

Sorry everyone! I hate missing my blog day, and I have to thank Lauren Dane for checking on me to see what was wrong. I’ll admit it. I blanked it. I thought I had written down every date on my calendar designated for me to blog, but not this one. Go figure. Anyhooo, I did have something mundane and topical to relate.

You might remember (notice I said might) my last blog dealt with slowing down and how my cell phone was way behind the times. Guess what, I lied. 

I am Borg. 

My hubby and I have new cell phones. Big deal, right? Well, here’s the rub. I have to remember to turn the thing on and leave it on and lordy, lordy people can actually reach me. Of course, I have the option of turning the sucker off. 

You should have seen the hubby and I trying to operate our brand new identical (half the size of the last) phones. Oy! First hubby discovered his voice mail wouldn’t work. Didn’t matter which way he did it, it wouldn’t work. We wondered what on earth he’d done wrong. Hmmm. We followed the instructions to the letter. 

Finally, we returned to the store, ready to give them the phones if this was all the better it would get. Turned out that the instructions they’d handed to us and everyone else isn’t correct. There’s an additional key you have to press to get the voice mail to activate. Aha! So that’s the ticket. We aren’t as technologically idiotic as we first feared. 

Of course, technology sometimes fascinates us, so I’ve run around using the camera to take some intriguing pictures to use as wallpaper on my phone. Do I plan to spend inordinate amounts of money buying ring tones? Probably not. Though I have only found one on the phone that doesn’t make the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

So yes, I am Borg. Is there any technology in your life that drives you nuts?

Until next week, I remain your faithful author. :)