Friday's Guest - Kate McKeever #MFRWauthor #What Was She Before

1.      What were you in your life before you became a writer? Did this influence your writing?

I was and still am an occupational therapist. I have a pretty varied educational history but I think the thing that influenced me to become a writer was the fact that, since elementary school, I’ve either volunteered or worked part time in libraries. That, and my love of reading spurred my need and desire to write.

2.       Are you genre specific or general? Why? I don't mean genres like romance, mystery, fantasy etc. There are many subgenres of the above. I am published in sweet contemporary and paranormal romantic suspense. These are the two subgenres I tend to gravitate to. My paranormal writing may be in contemporary or historical times.

3. Did your reading choices have anything to do with your choice of a genre or genres? Not really. I read all over the spectrum, with the exception of horror.

4. What's your latest release? My latest release is in an anthology entitled Masquerade, a paranormal/fantasy anthology with connected stories.

5. What are you working on now? Right now I’m working on a sweet contemporary as well as a paranormal romantic suspense.  The paranormal romantic suspense, Shifting Blame, should be available by this summer. The sweet romance release date is to be determined right now.

6. Where can we find you? My website is www.kate-mckeever.com. You can also find me at facebook-  https://www.facebook.com/kate.mckeever.9

Thursday's First and Second Scene - Past Betrayals, Past Loves #MFRWauthor #Paranormal #Reincarnation

In her rush to reach the ringing telephone, Astrid Logan nearly sprawled on the suitcases she'd left in the apartment hallway. She grabbed the receiver on the seventh ring. A deep voice spoke her name and her heart thudded in her chest. "Clive?" Had something happened to her father? Was there a problem at Antiquities?

"Been trying to reach you for hours. Where have you been?"

Astrid sucked in a breath. "Dad knows how to reach me at school." She sank to the floor. "What's wrong with him?"

"He's had a stroke."

"How is he?"

"Doctor believes he'll recover completely, but he'll need time in rehab."

"When did this happen and where?"

"This morning at the gallery. We were discussing the placement of several new pieces. He groaned and collapsed. Ambulance arrived maybe fifteen minutes later."

Astrid frowned. What was he holding back? Her father liked and trusted his younger assistant, but for no reason she could discover, Clive had always made her edgy. "Did they do tests?"

"CAT Scan. Then they gave him some kind of special IV. Guess this will make you change your summer plans."

"Why should it?" Clive had been her father's assistant at the gallery for a year and a half. He knew she spent every summer at Antiquities.

"Then you're really not coming."

"What are you talking about? I had planned to drive down tomorrow." Since she'd turned twelve, she'd spent every summer at the shop with her dad. In sixteen years, she knew as much about the shop as her father.

"Thought your dad said you wouldn't be here. Never mind. It's just ... I was going to move into his apartment."

"Why?"

"To keep an eye on the gallery."

Astrid frowned. That didn't make sense. The thirty-year-old playboy had an expensive co-op on the river. "Isn't there a sophisticated alarm system?"

"Alarms can be by-passed."

"Are there problems?"

"In a way. A few pieces have gone missing and your dad won't hear of calling the police."

"I see." She didn't, but once she was sure her father was recovering, she intended to check.

"When are you coming?"

"As soon as I pack the car."

"Imagine you'll arrive between five and six. I'll close the shop and meet you at the hospital."

"No need. I have keys. After I check on Dad, I'll stop by the gallery." She hung up and started to call the hospital. Why? It would be a futile gesture. They would merely confirm her father was a patient, but they wouldn't disclose the information she wanted.

She made a quick check of the nearly empty apartment. Her furniture was in storage until she found a place closer to the university where she would begin a graduate program in September.

Twenty minutes later, she'd packed the car. On the way out of town, she dropped the keys at the real estate agency and began the four-hour trip to Rockleigh, the Hudson River village where her father lived.

During the drive, she tried not to think about her father. If she didn't dwell on her fears, they wouldn't come true. Think positive, she told herself. She recalled her father's excitement over the changes he and Clive had made at Antiquities and the enthusiasm over a new customer. What would happen to the gallery if he wasn't there? She gripped the wheel and shifted mental gears.

Astrid parked in the hospital lot and stopped at the information desk. With a visitor's pass in hand, she went to the third floor and found her father's room. The odors, the moans and cries, the bustle of activity made her feel as though she'd entered an alien land. Her job as a school nurse held none of these scenes. She paused in the doorway of the semi-private room. One bed was empty. Her father lay in the window bed.

For a moment, she stared. How had he aged so much since the last time she'd seen him? Easter had been just two and a half months ago. During their weekly phone calls, he'd sounded the way he always had. She approached the bed, checked the intravenous site and the rate and looked at the oxygen meter on the wall. Seemed fine.

"Dad."

He opened his eyes and tried to smile. She took his hand. He spoke, but the words were so garbled she couldn't decipher them. Tears threatened. She swallowed against the lump in her throat.

"Don't worry about Antiquities. I'll keep Clive in line. I'll have the records in order by the time you're back."

Her words seemed to give him peace. The lines around his mouth relaxed. Until the urge to cry grew too strong, she remained. "I'm going to the apartment, then the gallery. I'll be back this evening."

He mouthed a word.

"Good?" she asked.

He nodded.

Outside the room, she pulled a tissue from her bag and wiped her eyes. At the nurses' desk, she paused. "I'm Mr. Logan's daughter. How is he?"

A gray-haired woman looked up. "He's stable and responding to treatment. We were able to start things within hours after the stroke."

Astrid cleared her throat. "I'm a nurse." She asked a series of questions about the prognosis and course of treatment.

"You'll have to speak to his doctor."

"Who is?"

The nurse gave Astrid a name and phone number. "Thanks."

After paying the parking fee, she drove to Antiquities and pulled onto the paved area behind the building. As she took two suitcases from the trunk, Mrs. Rayson, her father's tenant and long-time friend, stepped onto the deck. "Astrid. I'm so glad you're here. That Clive said you weren't coming this summer."

"He misunderstood Dad. Probably confused my decision to resign my position at the school and go to grad school with my summer plans. You know how Dad sometimes carries on two discussions at once."

Mrs. Rayson laughed. "How true. What happened to Lloyd this morning was dreadful. I was so scared."

"Were you there?"

The older woman nodded. "Heard him arguing with Clive so I stepped in. Saw Lloyd collapse. Called 911. That Clive just stood and stared."

"Shock." Astrid started up the steps. Would Clive have called an ambulance? She chewed on her lower lip. She couldn't let her distrust of the man color her opinions.

"How is Lloyd? I wanted to visit, but wasn't sure if he was in Intensive Care or a regular room."

"I stopped by on my way here." Astrid sighed. "He looked so old and fragile."

Sarah Rayson hugged Astrid. "He'll be fine."

"Aunt Sarah, I'll take that as a prophecy. Let me unload the car. Then I need to check the gallery."

"Come to dinner. Around six."

"I'd like that. We can go see Dad together."

Astrid opened the door and stepped into the apartment's main room. She turned on the air conditioner. The large picture window showed a view of the river. Breakfast dishes were still on the counter dividing the kitchen from the rest of the room. Stacks of books covered the couch, chairs and coffee table.

A groan escaped. Not only would she have to organize the gallery records, she'd have to make order here. She carried the suitcases to the small bedroom she used when she visited. At least the clutter hadn't invaded her space. After several trips to the car, she stepped into the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face.

What had caused Dad and Clive to quarrel? They seldom disagreed. Would Clive tell her?

When she entered Antiquities, she turned a full circle. The usual disorganized appearance had vanished. The enormous room was now broken into small areas. Dividers of wood and glass separated the displays.

"Astrid."

Clive strode toward her. The tall, blond man moved with a predatory grace. He looked like the Viking hero some of her acquaintances had dubbed him. He was handsome, but the coldness of his blue eyes made her wary. "Hello, Clive."

"You made good time. Have you seen your dad?"

"I stopped at the hospital." A sigh escaped. "I can't believe he had a stroke. He's always been so healthy."

Clive clasped her hands. "He's tough. Before long, he'll be back cluttering the place."

"Hope not. You've achieved wonders here." She tried to free her hands. He tugged her closer. "The apartment looks like a magpie's nest."

"Good description." He brushed her lips with his.

Astrid shook her head. She wanted to wipe her mouth. Would he start another pursuit this summer? "Let's stick to business. I like the arrangement of the stock."

"A suggestion from a new customer. Rich playboy type, but he has good taste. Garrett and your dad connected. Act like they've known each other for ages."

She crossed her arms on her chest. "Why were you and Dad arguing?"

He groaned. "Guess you talked to nosy Sarah. Was more like a heated discussion about displaying two new pieces he recently found. Bought this sealed box at a sale. Odd assortment."

"How odd?"

He laughed. "Nothing bad. Mostly a collection of Victorian jewelry and these two pieces. He wanted to research them before they were offered for sale. I wanted to price them immediately. You know how hard it is to date the things we acquire."

She nodded. "So where are they?"

"Most of the jewelry is in the vault and I can't get to them."

"I--" She cut off her response. She knew the code for the vault and would see what he meant in the morning.

He took her arm. "I'll show you the two pieces I kept out and introduce you to Paula Winters. She's photographing a number of our best pieces for a catalogue we're launching."

"Another suggestion from Dad's new friend?"

"In a way." He entered the Egyptian area. "Astrid, Paula Winters. Astrid is Lloyd's daughter. She's here for the summer, then it's back upstate."

Astrid didn't contradict him. Her plans weren't his business.

The woman turned. "Teacher?" She gazed at Clive.

"School nurse." Astrid read admiration in Paula's eyes. Did Clive return the interest? He usually went for petite and curvy. Paula was slim, almost boyish. The blunt cut of her shoulder-length auburn hair reminded Astrid of styles she'd seen on ancient Egyptian women.

Paula's crooked grin warmed Astrid. "Glad to finally meet you. Your dad talks a lot about you."

"Don't believe everything he's said. What are you photographing today?" Astrid asked.

"Starting with the Egyptian collection. The new pieces are stunning. Clive thinks it's a good idea to have a visual record of the things in the shop."

Astrid turned to Clive. "Then there is a problem."

"I told you several pieces were missing."

"Thieves?"

"I hope not, but this has been going on since right after Easter."

Astrid frowned. Why hadn't Dad mentioned the problem? She edged toward the stand where a necklace and crown were displayed on a black velvet cloth. Where had she seen these pieces before? The necklace resembled a wide collar. Semi-circles of a pale gold metal were inlaid with lapis. From the last row, carnelians dangled. The headband of the same metal had flowers of inlaid lapis with carnelian centers.

"Are these the items you and Dad argued about?"

Clive nodded. "He wanted to put them in the vault."

"Why have you displayed them?"

"One, I can't open the vault and two, they're too attractive to hide."

Astrid brushed a finger over one of the dangles. Sadness washed over her. As though under a spell, she lifted the necklace. Waves of dizziness rocked her.

* * * *

Seshat stood at the entrance to her workroom built against the wall of the villa. She stared into the garden. Though chaos ruled the Two Lands, in this house at a distance from Thebes, only echoes of the troubles were heard. How fortunate that her father, Nomarch Sehetep, had distanced himself from the politics of both halves of the divided land.

She heard her younger sister giggle and watched her run toward the workroom. "What have you done now?"

"Spied on Father," Tiy said.

Seshat shook her head. Tiy hovered between childhood and womanhood. She delighted in mischief. Seshat left the doorway and reached for the tallies of the recent harvest.

"Don't you want to know what I heard and what I saw?" Tiy's warm brown eyes sparkled with mischief.

"Tell me."

"We have guests. From Thebes. Oh, Seshat, they are the most handsome men I have ever seen. They seek father's support. One of them wants the Double Crown. Maybe he will choose you as his wife and ignore Nefru."

Seshat sighed. If she were chosen, Nefru, daughter of their father's dead first wife, would be furious. Though Seshat's mother had been a princess of a past dynasty, Nefru denied the claim. Seshat sighed. Anyone seeking Sehetep's support would choose the oldest daughter. Since no sons had been born to the house, Nefru's spouse would claim the nome when Sehetep left this world.

"We're to eat the evening meal with them," Tiy said. "Nefru stamped her foot when she heard. When these men see you, they won't look at her."

Seshat shook her head. That would bring spiteful attacks from her sister. Besides, Seshat had no desire to leave her father. Wasn't she his right hand and his star to comfort his last days? She lifted a quill and began to record the number of baskets of harvested grain.

Before she finished the tally, Bastet, her aging maidservant, entered. "Come, child. You must make ready for the evening."

Seshat put her quill and papyrus aside and followed Bastet to the bathing room. After washing, her skin was rubbed with scented oil. Bastet combed and braided her hair. Not for Seshat the shaved head and the hot, heavy wig. The maid applied kohl to make Seshat's gray eyes appear more luminous and darker.

"What will you wear?" Bastet asked. "These men have come from Thebes. You don't want to appear a country girl."

Seshat chose a robe of fine linen that covered her body from beneath her breasts to her ankles. The broad straps formed a vee as they crossed her shoulders. For jewelry, she selected the necklace her mother had left her. The electrum semi-circles of the collar were inlaid with lapis. Carnelians dangled above her bare breasts.

"Will you wear the crown?"

Seshat shook her head. She was sure Nefru would wear her finest linen tunic and adorn herself with jewels. Her wig would be ornamented as well. A subtle touch is best, Seshat thought.

She and Tiy entered the large hall where their father, sister and the guests waited. Sehetep smiled. "Daughters, come and meet our visitors. Seshat, how like your mother you look. She was the loveliest flower in my garden. You are indeed the star to delight my last days."

Nefru's lips thinned. She glared. Rings glittered on her fingers. Her armbands were studded with gems. The nipples of her heavy breasts had been colored with henna.

Seshat ignored her sister's displeasure. She kept her eyelids lowered as her father drew her toward the guests. "Mermeshu, Commander of the Army, and Intef, his advisor, my daughters, Seshat and Tiy."

Seshat glanced at the men. Both wore kilts and tunics. A jeweled pectoral gleamed against the pale linen of Mermeshu's tunic. The men were taller than her father. Mermeshu had the arms and shoulders of an archer. Though of slighter build, Intef seemed fit. She shuddered. His eyes had the coldness of a serpent.

Mermeshu's dark eyes captured her gaze. As though to see her better, he smiled and stepped back. Her skin felt hot. A throbbing low in her belly brought an urge to touch and be touched by him. Her nipples tightened. His smile broadened.

In that instant, Seshat knew she desired this man for all eternity. Hathor, goddess of love, bring him to my side. Fill him with desire for only me. Let him see my beauty and my grace. Bring him to me.

Nefru clapped her hands. The serving maids set the individual tables before Sehetep's chair and the stools for the others. Since this was the main meal of the day, course followed course. Beef, lamb and goose were served with lentils, carrots and spinach. Wine and beer were lavishly offered. The meal ended with melons, figs and dates. Though Seshat ate, she tasted nothing.

Mermeshu and Intef spoke of the Hyksos who controlled the north and of the troubles in the south. Many men competed for the Double Crown, but only one could wear it. Mermeshu had come to ask for men, supplies and coins. He believed with the army's backing, he could win the crown and drive the usurpers from the land.

Bits of conversation entered Seshat's awareness. For twenty years, the land had been torn asunder by men who wished to be pharaoh. Then came the Hyksos with their chariots and armies. Only a united Egypt could repel them.

Seshat had no care for tales of war or warnings of battles to come. Her body thrummed with a desire she didn't fully understand.

When the meal ended, Nefru signaled the slaves to remove the tables. "Mermeshu and Intef, would you like to stroll in the gardens?"

The men rose to follow her. Seshat paused beside her father's chair. "Do you wish me to play the harp?" Though she wanted to join the others, her first duty was to him.

"Go to the garden." He patted her cheek. "Star of my last days, you have your mother's heart."

Seshat kissed him on the forehead and strolled into the garden. Nefru walked with a hand on each man's arm. Tiy was nowhere to be seen. Had Nefru sent her away? The trio paused beside the pool.

"Alas, my father has no sons or male kindred," Nefru said. "The husband I choose will be fortunate. All this will be his."

"And your sisters?" Mermeshu asked. "Have they no share in your father's wealth?"

Nefru snorted. "Daughters of concubines have no standing. They will be grateful for what I give them."

Intef laughed. "Don't you mean what your husband gives them?"

Nefru smiled. "He will be so entranced with me, he will do as I wish."

Seshat joined them. Anger sizzled through her veins. "Nefru, you can insult me but not my mother. She was wife to our father, duly witnessed in the temple."

Nefru giggled. "I'd forgotten. She was only second wife and brought nothing of value to the marriage."

"She was a princess."

"So she said."

Seshat bit her lip. Quarreling with Nefru before their guests was in poor taste. She looked up. Mermeshu grinned. Heat seared her core. He stepped away from Nefru and took Seshat's arm.

"Come and enjoy the beauty of the garden," he said. "The night and the company are too lovely for heated words. Your father said the garden was your realm."

"And the fields and herds," Nefru said. "She acts like she's our father's son."

"And for that reason, I must leave," Seshat said. "'Tis harvest time and I have much to do."

Mermeshu leaned toward her. "Pleasant dreams." He lightly caressed her arm.

Wednesday's Writer's Tip - Being Wrong is Okay. #MFRWauthor #Writing

Once again and for the next who knows how many weeks, Dwight V. Swain will be my source of things to talk about.

What happens ehre is something i never thought about. I had that urge to write and that's what I did. One of my first books was a cozy mystery and the first editor became upset because the murder didn't happen immediately. The story sets up the reasons someone had to kill the victim. She was not a good person and many people wanted her dead. The book had to be written this way and I've earned a lot with the story.

To some people I was wrong but I stuck to my way of telling the story That's happened with a few more of my stories. I didn't let the opinions of others get in the way of my story. That's what you have to do. This is your story and you're the one whose story you're telling. There are a lot of people with opinions and they won't hesitate mentioning. Once I wrote a story where one of the women, a nurse was something of a slut. One editor says nurses wouldn't be like that. But she'd never worked in a hospital and had no idea that nurses fit the entire spectrum of human behavior. I stuck to my way of telling the story. Someone bought the story and though the character wasn't a main one. The character never had such comments from writers.

So. not that you totally ignore the opinions of others, if you can use something they say, then do it. Always remember this is your story and the urge to write it yours.

Tuesday - The Writer's Life - Contracts and Sales #MFRWauthro #Contracts

If you're going to self-publish this won't help you much but if you've found a publisher who wants your book, there are several things to look at.

If a large publisher wants your book, your best bet is to have an agent who can look over the ins and outs of the conract. You could also find a literary attorney to look at the contract. Know that there are things you can change and things you can't but having a guide will help.

If you've found a small publisher, there are things you need to study. Most small publishers will ask for ebook and print rights to produce your books. There are things like audio rights, foreign sales and  movie rights to name a few that may or may not remain with yours to produce. At one point, a number of small presses only took electronic rights. Having an attorney may be a help. Also a help is other authors you know who are with small presses.

Study your contract and if you don't understand some of the features, ask someone. It's rather exciting to receive a contract but if you don't know all the ins and outs, you may sign away something you would rather not have given the rights away.

Meandering On Monday with Janet Lane Walters - Poem, Retreat, Writing

Meander 1 - Poem

Cries the woodland deep and pleasant,
Pulling me to plunge within.
Where the Indians lived with nature.
Let me hear their music there.
Find the legends of Hiawatha.
Weave them into magic places.
Use the legends of my people
To create the dreaming worlds
Taking people from their troubles
Thrust the into other worlds.
Let them escape their worries.
Help them into Life.

Meander 2 - Retreat - I spent the weekend with other writers and enjoyed myself. We talked about writing, discussed what we were doing and learned things to help our own writing go smoothly. I did edits for a friend and found few problems making the her story strong and good. Not much of my own writing. Went to dinner with some friends. Spent a bit of time at the bar with others. Then I went to my room since I was exhausted. But had a good time.

Meander 3 - Writing -  I'm still involved with updating a lot of books. I'll finish another soon and then there will be twenty plus more. Am also working on several other projects checking to see if there need to be changes to bring the stories up to date.

Sunday's Books - Past Betrayals, Past Loves - New Release #MFRWauthor #Paranormal #Romance

A curse sends Astrid on a journey to ancient lands. She meets deceit and betrayal searching for true love and to break the curse. The search begins in Egypt. When she touches an ancient Egyptian necklace she is hurtled through time into the turbulent life of another woman. She discovers the words spoken in anger holding her spirit captive. Seven more times she finds a piece of jewelry and returns to a distant past. In each of these lives she encounters and falls in love with a man who seems to be someone recently met in her present as do the enemy man and woman.

The heat between Astrid and Duncan is instant and becomes incandescent. Her dislike of two characters grows. Eight realms await her. Eight chances break the curse holding her spellbound and to end the cycle of past betrayals and find love. Eight chances to foil the evil man and woman who follow her and Duncan from era to era.

Reviews:

By Crystal Adkins on October 12, 2008

Format: Paperback

Astrid Logan has just found out her father has had a stroke while she's been away. Every summer she joins her father at his shop called Antiquities, but this year it is going to be quite different. Clive, her father's assistant seems more shady than usual, but there are even more stranger things going on that can not be explained. Touching the Egyptian necklace will transport Astrid to ancient Egypt where she will face jealousy, love, and betrayal by her own sister.

That is not the end of Astrid's journey, she is about to visit Babylon, China, Pompeii, Britain, Switzerland, Japan and Peru as well. Although, each place she visits, the couples are cursed in love and are usually pregnant when fated to death. Each piece of jewelry that she touches holds a story, and hopefully those stories will help her figure out what her father has been saying as well as the mysteries to her new beau's past.

Duncan shows up with Lorna on his arm and right away is attracted to Astrid, while Lorna is whining around about the Egyptian pieces. Duncan and Astrid may be fated for the curse of the past, or maybe they will be the ones to break the unlucky chain of events... but what happens when Astrid falls in love, but Duncan is not sure he can quite admit it just yet even though he is infatuated with lust for her.

Two lovers meet again in another place and time, but there are also two saboteurs out there that are in it for the wealth. There are a lot of secrets and feelings that must be sorted out before time runs out.

All Our Yesterdays couldn't be a more perfect title for this book, Janet Lane Walters has a way of riveting the reader with her words from the very start. The ending was something I saw coming, and couldn't have been more ecstatic by the way it turned out.Read more ›

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All Our Yesterdays

By Melissa on July 14, 2008

Format: Paperback

Astrid Logan travels from her home to her father's after he has a stroke. Her father owns a gallery called Antiquities. After she checks on her father she goes to his shop where his employee, Clive, shows her an Egyptian necklace. When she picks it up she's transported back in time to Ancient Egypt.

In this time period Seshat is the second daughter of the second wife of Nomarch Sehetep. She is sweet and loving and cares for her father. His first daughter of his first wife, Nefru, is conniving and deceitful. When the family receives visitors from Thebes on political business Nefru sets her sights on Mermeshu, the more powerful of the two. When he rejects her for Seshat, Nefru takes the second one, Intef, to her bed. She becomes pregnant with his child and convinces her father that Mermeshu is the father. Her father forces the two to marry. In the meantime Seshat discovers that she is pregnant with Mermeshu's baby. He offeres for her to become his second wife after her sister and delines cursing him until he learns what to value.

When Astrid comes back to the present time two customers come into the shop. Lorna Stinit and Duncan Garrett. There is an instant attraction between Astrid and Duncan. She turns him down when he makes advances, and even after Astrid's refusal Duncan breaks his weekend date with Lorna.

The premise of All Our Yesterdays by Janet Lane Walters is the original curse in Egypt. Each time Astrid picks up a piece of jewelry she is transported into the lives of two lovers. She visits ancient times in Egypt, Babylon, China, Pompeii, Britain, Switzerland, Japan and Peru. And in each place she visits the couple is cursed. It is up to Astrid and Duncan to break the curse.Read more ›

Friday - Retreat #MFRWauthor #Writing

I'm off today for a retweet so the usual Friday guest won't be present. Tomorrow, I'll be away from the internet for a short vacation from social media. Writing retreats are kind of interesting. Others of the group will be writing merrily on their works. I'll be reading mss returned and looking for grammar mistakes. That's rather good since I don't write on the computer but do all by hand. Perhaps I'll accomplish more than they will. Who knows.

Thursday - First and Second Scenes - The Cancer Capricorn Connection #MFRWauthor #Medicalromance #Astrology

Cate Rollins stood in the sun-filled kitchen of the house she’d rented and opened another box. The cheery yellow walls and the dark oak cabinets made the large room seem cozy. Yesterday she and her daughter had arrived in mid-afternoon and had blessed her friend for leaving most of the furniture. She had brought little of the battered furniture from the apartment.

The sound of children’s laughter flowed through the open window. Moments after their arrival, the swing set had been delivered and assembled. The August afternoon had been cool, a welcome change from the past week’s brutal heat.

As she placed dishes on the shelves of the cabinets she hoped the return to Eastlake to take charge of the newly established Rehab Center had been the right move. Since her mother’s death when Maddie had turned two, Cate’s life had been filled with work, school and raising her child. Now she had returned to the town where she’d attended college. Four of her closest friends had settled here and she believed their presence was a plus. They had come to the house to help her settle in.

“Where do you want this?” Lauren, owner of the house, held a wok, the metal blackened from use.

Cate pointed to a hook on the wall above the gleaming stove. “Here is good. Maddie and I make stir fry often, especially the chicken cashew recipe you taught the Gang.”

Lauren laughed. “Do you make as much?”

“I’ve managed to cut the recipe down so we only have to eat it for a day or two.” She folded an empty box.

“That’s still my only dish. Thank heavens I’ve a housekeeper who’s a marvelous cook.”

“Thanks for letting me rent your house while I look for one.”

“Don’t be in a rush to buy.” Lauren winked. “Both Liz and I found our happy-ever- afters here. You could be next. There are several new doctors arriving soon.”

Cate closed her eyes lest her friend see the sorrow and anger ever present in her thoughts. She’d lost her chance for a full life when he’d left ten minutes after the graduation ceremony ended without a goodbye. She hadn’t been able to tell him about the pregnancy and she’d been too angry to call him.

“I’m content without a man in my life.” She smiled. “Maddie is great company.”

“She won’t be with you forever.”

“I know but right now I’m content.”

Lauren walked to the kitchen door. “What a great swing set. I’m glad you found someone to set it up. Keeps the kids from trying to help.”

“Bought it in town yesterday morning and the set up was part of the price.” Cate joined her friend. She studied the massive structure. There were swings, a seesaw, and an overhead grill for climbing with a play house on the opposite side from the slide. “Maddie picked this two years ago. Wouldn’t fit in a city apartment.”

Lauren touched Cate’s shoulder. “I’m sorry I never heard about your mother’s death. Mail was often lost as I wandered from country to country.”

“Don’t feel bad about not knowing.” Cate turned from the door. “The kitchen is in order. I wonder how the others are doing?”

Lauren laughed. “Liz is organized and efficient. About Megan and Jenessa, think chaos. One will undo what the other has done. Megan wants color coordination. Jenessa just wants to finish.”

A picture of her two friends formed. “Megan will have a good time finding towels that match.” A sound caused her to turn.

Liz stepped into the room. “Dining room and study are done. Books are shelved. Do you ever read for fun?”

“Seldom. I do watch television with Maddie.” Cate opened the refrigerator and pulled out a platter and two pitchers. “Time for a break. Call the others while I pour lemonade for the children. Take the tea and glasses to the porch.” She went to the door. “Snack time,” she called.

Maddie dashed inside. Three boys followed. “Brownies.”

“One each. We’ll soon be going out for lunch.”

“Are we going to that hot dog place you’re always talking about?” Maddie’s green eyes, the only feature inherited from her mother, glowed with pleasure. “Can’t wait.” She offered the plate to her new friends.

Cate filled four plastic glasses. “Enjoy. I’ll be on the porch. We’ll call when it’s time.”

She strolled down the hall and stepped outside. She loved the white wicker furniture, especially the swing. Her friends’ chatter raised a smile. She recalled the days when the seven members of the Grantley Gang had shared study sessions and fun times. Five now lived in Eastlake. For an instant she wondered if Suzanne would ever leave the city and join them. About the seventh member. Her stomach clenched. Not going there.

She accepted a glass of tea from Megan whose blonde curls bounced. “I’m buying you a house warming present. Matching towels for all the bathrooms. Most of the ones you have are threads clinging to each other.”

Cate shrugged. “They work.”

Megan rolled her eyes. “Your Cancer habit of clinging to old things needs revised. Do you…”

Jenessa clamped her handover Megan’s mouth. “Later. I want to know how you were drafted to run the Rehab Center.”

Cate sat next to Lauren on the swing. “I became interested in rehabilitation nursing while I was pregnant with Maddie. After Mother died I returned to school and took a double Masters. Then I worked at Sloane Rehab and soon became assistant DON. At a conference I ran into Dr. Carter Senior. We talked about the need for a rehab center in Eastlake. Once he had the funding he asked me to help design the facility and to take charge as the director with a focus on nursing care.”

“I’m glad he found you,” Megan said. “I told him about you and he was always glad to help one of the Grantley Gang.”

Cate sipped tea and listened to her friends share their lives since graduation. Though she knew some of the events of their lives, there was much she hadn’t heard. From Jenessa she learned about preventing a take-over and a strike. Lauren had them laughing over her adventures in foreign lands. Liz added comments about her problems with the staff when she’d taken charge of the ortho/neuro unit.

“Be glad you don’t have to contend with someone who wants your job. Plus she was a neighbor and her son…don’t get me started.”

The warmth of friendship allowed Cate to push aside her nerves about the new career step.

Lauren set her glass on the table. “Would you and Maddie like to join us at Shadow Lake for the Labor Day weekend? Would be like old times.”

Cate remembered the summer weekends she had joined her friends at the lake. There were other things that had happened she didn’t want to recall. “Is there room?”

“There are plenty of extra bedrooms,” Lauren said.

Jenessa raised her glass. “I imagine Maddie will enjoy herself with swimming. Her new friends will be there.”

“We’ll have a semi-Gang reunion,” Megan said.

“Then we’ll come.”  Though she wondered if this was the right decision she knew Maddie would enjoy swimming and the company of her new friends.

The rumble of a motorcycle clamped a vise on Cate’s shoulder muscles. Every time she heard a bike she hated this conditioned reaction. In the city there’d been hundreds of these near panic attacks. She glanced at her friends and hoped they hadn’t noticed. Questions would follow and she had no intention of answering. She drew a deep breath. Her hands clenched. Her heart fluttered like the wings of a humming bird.

The image of a dark-haired, dark-eyed man leaped into her thoughts. He’d stolen her heart and tossed the discarded remains in the garage heap. Rick Somers had been the only male member of the Gang.

When the bike pulled into the driveway of a large house on the other side of the street her vision blurred. How could she live in this house having to hear that sound night and day?

The rider dismounted and pulled off his helmet revealing dark curly hair. He turned and she knew his identity. She froze. He stared for a moment and then waved.

“Is that who I think it is?” Jenessa asked.

“Didn’t you believe me when I told you what Dad said?” Megan asked.

Cate jumped to her feet. She had to hide Maddie. She paused at the door and turned to look at her friends.

“Are you all right?” Liz asked.

“Yes…No…” She opened the door.

“Do you mind if we ask him what he’s doing here?” Jenessa asked.

With a nonchalant gesture Cate waved her hand. She needed to be alone and to think about what this would mean to her and to her daughter. “Go ahead.”

“Are you coming?” Megan asked.

“I’ll pass.” Once the panic ebbed anger rose. Had anyone known he was coming to Eastlake? Did he know the people who lived in that huge house across the street?

Megan, Jenessa and Lauren strolled across the street. They engaged Rick in animated conversation.

Cate faced Liz. “Did you know?”

The older woman nodded. “I did and probably Megan did too but I had no idea he would be living near Lauren’s house. Had I known, I would have warned you.”

Cate drew a calming breath. "Which unit will be his?” With luck she could avoid him.

“He’s no longer a nurse. He’s an orthopedic surgeon.”

“So he found a med school,” she said. “Looks like I won’t be able to avoid him.”

Liz nodded. “He’ll be a regular on my unit. I’ll let him know he’s not to annoy you.”

As if that would stop him. “I’ll be cool.” At least she hoped she could contain the bubbling anger.

“What are you going to tell Maddie?”

“Only what I’ve already said. That her father disappeared and I thought he was dead.” She recalled the nights when she had envisioned an accident with his bike. Those thoughts hadn’t abated her anger and hurt. She still prayed for indifference.

“What happened back then? You both seemed so in love. Did you quarrel about the pregnancy?”

Cate shook her head. “He didn’t know. I only learned the morning of graduation. I told him we needed to talk but when I went to find him he was gone.” She bit her lip to keep from crying as hurt and sorrow from the past welled in her thoughts. In a flash the desire for tears vanished and anger bubbled to the surface.

“Are you going to tell him?”

Cate stared at her hands. “Why should I? He doesn’t deserve to know.” She looked away. As if anyone seeing her daughter could fail to recognize the identity of the child’s father.

“What about Maddie? She might want a father.”

“She hasn’t missed having one. Sometimes she asks a question and I tell her I don’t know. I didn’t miss having one.” The few times she’d asked her mother about her father the bitter rants had made her resent the man she’d never met.

“Liz, Cate,” Megan called.

“You go.” Cate gathered the pitcher and glasses and carried the inside. She loaded the dishwasher and slumped into a chair at the kitchen table. She had no idea how to handle this new problem.

A half an hour later her friends returned. She met them in the hall. In their eyes she saw questions she didn’t want to answer.

“Are you all right?” Liz asked.

“Yes.”

Megan cocked her head. “Why didn’t you come over? You and he were so close.”

Cate’s hands clenched. “My reason is evident.” She drew a deep breath. “I’m ready for lunch.”

“Good idea.” Liz walked to the kitchen door. “Brandon, Justin, come in and wash your hands and faces. We’re going to the Hot Doggery.”

Three boys and one girl stormed into the house. Once they washed they went to their cars.

“See you there,” Cate called.

Maddie fastened her seatbelt. “The boys are nice but I wish there was another girl.”

Cate started the car. “When you go to the Community Center for the rest of this month and when school starts you’ll find girl friends.”

* * *

Rick Somers stared at the house on the other side of the street. The  welcomes from four of the members of the Grantley Gang from college had surprised him. He hadn’t seen or contacted any of them since they’d left college. He frowned. Why had Cate, the only other old friend, remained aloof? Sure he’d hurt her feelings but that had happened nine years ago. Had he made a mistake in coming to Eastlake?

His thoughts drifted to those days. He and Cate had been close, more than close. During their senior year they had become a couple but her ideas about their future hadn’t been his.

He shuddered. Hers had been to return to her home town, live with her mother and work at the local hospital until they married and started a family. He had wanted medical school. She’d thought he was chasing a fool’s dream. He’d hidden the letter of acceptance from her. Thoughts of another quarrel and unsatisfactory make-up sex had forced his silence. He had known she wouldn’t change her plans so he left without saying goodbye.

The arrival of the moving van and his gray SUV driven by his foster father halted his speculations. Clint Harris parked on the street and strode along the driveway.

Rick’s memories flashed to his youth. At fourteen he’d become an orphan and had been placed in a foster home. He had constantly rebelled against his strict foster parents. At sixteen he’d run away. Clint had caught him breaking into his car to steal the cameras. Instead of calling the police, the older man had taken Rick home, fed him, listened to his story and started the process of becoming his foster parent. Rick’s life had been filled with challenges and security. Clint had helped him develop a plan to reach his goal of becoming a doctor like his dead father had been.

Clint ran his hand through hair lightly touched with gray. “This is quite a house. Five bedrooms. Why?”

Rick shrugged. “No reason. I did one of those virtual home tours and liked what I saw. The plus was that I didn’t have to spend days house hunting. There’s enough room in the basement for an apartment for you.” He opened the front door and directed the movers.

Before long the few pieces of furniture he’d brought from California were in place along with boxes, carrying bags and a barrel of kitchen equipment. His exercise equipment had been assembled in a basement room.

Rick turned to Clint. “Looks like I need to shop for furniture.” His bedroom, the one Clint would use, the living room and the study were furnished.

Clint rested a hand on Rick’s shoulder. “Find a woman to help. Didn’t you say you had women friends from college living here?”

“There are four. They popped over from the house across the street to welcome me.” He failed to mention the one who had stayed away.

“Good. After lunch I’ll investigate the basement. A space for a dark room is first on my agenda. Then I’ll consider the apartment option.”

“And finally empty that storage locker?”

“Perhaps.”

“I hope you’re not leaving soon on another photo shoot.”

Clint shrugged. “Who knows how long before some publisher or editor wants my services.”

Rick hoped nothing surfaced soon. He wished his restless foster father would settle for a long time the way he had during the high school years. Other than summers Clint had found projects close to home. For the past twelve years the older man had arrived on visits at odd intervals. He had missed the Grantley graduation but had attended the one from medical school. Keeping his foster father from flitting was like catching a cloud.

Clint snapped his fingers. “Wake up. Time for lunch somewhere since we have no groceries.”

Rick turned from the window where he’d stood to stare at Cate’s house. Had she married and divorced? Their friends hadn’t mentioned a man in her life. Had her life been as empty as his had been? He’d remained from any but casual relationships. She’d always been at the edge of his thoughts.

“We’ll go to the Hot Doggery for the best chili dogs you’ve ever eaten.”

“Sounds good.” Clint tossed him the car keys. “Since you know the town you can drive.”

Before long they found a parking space on the street. He escorted his foster father to the restaurant. Through the front window with an opening for people to order and accept take outs, they paused to watch the rolling grill filled with hot dogs. A steaming kettle stood near the grill.

Rick opened the door. Every stool at the long counter had guests so they continued down the aisle where booths lined one wall. The ones in the front were filled so they continued to the back where a double row of booths lined an aisle between them.

Rick spotted an empty one of the smaller ones. Just behind the booth he saw four children and in one of the larger ones Cate sat with her friends.

One of the children, a girl raised her head. Short curly dark hair framed her face. She grinned. In that instant, he knew the child was his and the reason for Cate’s avoidance. He felt as though he’d been beaned by a baseball. He slid into the booth. With no thought of anything but his plans he’d ridden away. Had she known about the pregnancy? Why hadn’t she told him? Was that what she’d wanted to tell him after the ceremony?

Why hadn’t she tried to reach him? She’d known his cell number. With the internet she could have located him. Could her present glare be caused by shards of memory from that time?

He sucked in a breath and remembered Cate’s mother. She had raised her daughter alone and saw no need for a man in their lives. He’d received a dose of the woman’s bitter remarks during his single visit to Cate’s home. What had Cate told his daughter about him?

His hands clenched. If he had known would he have changed his plans? Probably not. If they had  married and they would have grown to resent each other. Did she realize that? They had to talk and soon.

Wednesday's Writer's Tip - What is a story? #MFRWauthor #Story #Swain

For the next few weeks I'll be using Techniques of the Selling Writer by Dwight V. Swain to share some tips. This was the first book on writing I discovered many years ago when I decided to write novels. This book made sense to me.

Mr. Swain says, "A story is experience translated into the literary process."

But learning how to do this is a process. Mr. Swain believes you can learn to write and sell stories. Will you make the big time? Maybe or Maybe not.

I agree and what you need to learn first are the techniques of writing a story. But will they make you a best-seller. That takes a special talent. Things like intelligence, passion, determination and how you can manipulate the language. Also how you put your feelings into the work. Those rules you've learned while studying to become a writer are subject to interpretation, Yours.

Twenty writers could be given the same situation and the same characters and in the end there would be twenty different stories.

What really helps you learn what a story is , is to practice, practice. Slowly the elements will make sense and suddenly you have a story. Maybe not a great one but the next one will be better. So learn the elements of a story and then practice employing them.

Tuesday - The Writer's Life -Query Letters #MFRWauthor #Query letters

Now you've decided where to publish your book or to seek an agent, you will need a query letter. These are dreaded things.  Why? Making your story sound like the most interesting story every can be difficult. But you must. A query letter should contain a bit about yourself and your ability to write the kind of story you have. If you have a bit of expertise in the field or have done extensive research, mention this. If you have published before mention this. Short stories, articles show who you are and what you've accomplished. Do you enjoy reading the kind of stories you've written mention this as well.

Along with the query letter, you may be asked for several things suck as three chapters. Don't select random ones but use the first three chapters. You may also be asked for an outline of the story. I'll discuss this in a later blog. Sometimes a short blurb can be worked into the letter and will grab an editor's attention. I've had this work very well. I'll talk about Blurbs later, too.