Happy Friday! I am thrilled to announce that I’m a guest on the wonderful and warm podcast Sharing the Heart of the Matter with Wynne and Vicki and it’s live today! These two wonderful women are a dynamic duo and made my experience chatting with them relaxing and fun. I was a bit nervous in the beginning, but soon, my nerves calmed and it was truly a delightful adventure! Another huge thanks to Vicki and Wynne! ❤️
I hope you will take the time to watch and listen, and if you do, I hope you enjoy!And don’t forget to peruse around Wynne and Vicki’s sites for topics of conversation that will draw you in and resonate.
Have a wonderful and peaceful weekend wherever you may be and whatever you do! Just know that I appreciate you!
You stare at the clock anticipating an answer, and the clock has no idea of the power lying in its hands. The infuriating face meets your stare as if to ask, “What?” You hold onto the words that fell from the tongue like a lifeline since your life resides on the edge. Trust lived in your heart at the time. But syllables soar far above your reach with no substance. The answer has yet to reveal itself. Waiting is a lifetime occupation. So, your fingers form a steady grip around the bottle as you tip it over, pouring…You watch the golden liquid glide over the cubes like ocean waves rolling over ice glaciers. Your logical self desires to perform a task of importance, a distraction, to trick your thoughts and busy your hands. But then your eyes find the clock again. Mind and body become stuck, paralyzed from emotions out of your control, and the only thing that makes sense is indulging in another sip.The burning down your throat is one sensation you can truly understand.
a crutch of liquid soothes frustration of vagueness living in darkness
I am thrilled to share that Spillwords Press has published my story “Resilience is Her Saving Grace.” Thank you to Dagmara and her team for accepting my submission. It is a great honor to have my writing spotlighted again, and to be in the company of so many talented authors.This story is meaningful because it means I’ve stepped out of the poetry box to dabble in fiction. And while it is fiction, the topic is reality for so many people. It was my desire to end ‘her’ story with hope so that hope could take on a ripple effect for anyone experiencing a similar scenario. Thank you for reading…
Resilience is Her Saving Grace
The tempest held its vigil on the horizon but continued to fool her. Devotion in his eyes mesmerized her whole being, awakened every pulse in her body. Eyes that spoke the language of love where their future glowed like an apricot dawn. She bestowed her heart permission to be swept into his pools of blue…
And yet, every day she anticipates the sting from his hand – the palm or back, makes no difference. The sting smarts like hell, but her heart secures the brunt of the damage. The slaps begin early each morning if she doesn’t move fast enough to appease his caffeine demands. And it’s ironic that he chose ‘chalet’ for his cell alarm because the calming tone contrasts to his horrific demeanor. After he walks through the front door following a day’s work, if she so much as smiles unknowingly to his disliking, his hand finds her cheek, and she feels the strike of skin even before impact. 5 p.m. on the mantel clock makes her heart pound as though trying to make a getaway.
You can read the rest of my story here, and if you can give it a ❤️, I’d really appreciate your support! 🤗
You don’t need to log in to give it a lovely ❤️, but you do need to if you’d like to leave a comment. And I would love to read your thoughts, but either way, I would appreciate your time and support. Thank you so much! 🙏
Thank you again to Dagmara K. and her team! I am truly grateful! 🌷
Thank you for visiting, and I wish you a lovely day!❤️ Both photos are courtesy of Spillwords Press.
My latest collection of poetry, touching on nature, love, and the mysteries of life that would make a great for any holiday! Click on the image for your copy. Thank you! 💚
How did naiveté slide into her veins? Why were those vessels so accommodating? She had listened intently to his persuasive syllables as they rolled like a lover’s ballad carried on summer’s breeze. They purported to express his love and devotion to her. Hence, the cadence of her heartbeat simulated gentle ocean waves ebbing and flowing beneath a robin egg blue sky. Her mind fuzzy like a delicious wine buzz because that’s what the power of love is capable of, mesmerizing her before his promises landed hard in the branches of the trees, stabbed in retaliation.
How did naiveté leech into her blood transforming its crimson red to a faded replica of weakness? The mirror hanging on the back of her door exposes a reflection of despair, unrecognizable. Yet, she understands the breadth of her situation, but when will the difference between humanity and an arresting performance reveal itself? When will the language flow like a lover’s ballad on summer’s breeze embracing her with warmth and security of compassion and honesty? Or is this simply a dream so far-removed from her reach?
Time mystifies, but with its magical means, her mind has awakened to reality. She releases a sigh of relief, realizing her heart is devoid of fissures. Never again will she place her golden treasure in danger of breaking. She has rid his presence from her precious sunrises. The panacea was inside her all along – a shifting from low self-esteem to self-assurance, an enlightening altering of what she desires for her tomorrows.
The longing in her soul pulses to witness butterflies flutter by again, and deer casually stroll down her street. To witness hummingbirds seeking out soft petals, evoking memories of her beloved mother. It’s not as though butterflies never visited her garden, or deer never strolled by her home, and it’s not like hummingbirds avoided visiting for a sip from her pink geraniums. She just never permitted herself to observe the beauty because her heart became preoccupied, and he was undeserving of its loyalty, frequently opining his needs and unconcerned with hers.
But now she shows great sagacity in making changes after declaring to her reflection in the mirror of what life offers. All she needs to do is invite life in. So, let the chirp of birds echo – delightful sounds of joy outside her window – and let deer stroll in their graceful manners. Let the wind blow, the mountains call, and the waterfalls fall, because blood in her veins now flows rich crimson red!
The tempest held its vigil on the horizon but continued to fool her. Devotion in his eyes mesmerized her whole being, awakened every pulse in her body. Eyes that spoke the language of love where their future glowed like an apricot dawn. She bestowed her heart permission to be swept into his pools of blue…
And yet, every day she anticipates the sting from his hand – the palm or back, makes no difference. The sting smarts like hell, but her heart secures the brunt of the damage. The slaps begin early each morning if she doesn’t move fast enough to appease his caffeine demands. And it’s ironic that he chose ‘chalet’ for his cell alarm because the calming tone contrasts to his horrific demeanor. After he walks through the front door following a day’s work, if she so much as smiles unknowingly to his disliking, his hand finds her cheek, and she feels the strike of skin even before impact. 5 p.m. on the mantel clock makes her heart pound as though trying to make a getaway.
They found their beautiful house together in a quiet neighborhood without sidewalks. Neighbors walk in the middle of the road, usually with leash in hand and their dogs beside them. Light traffic allows them to do this. Theirs is a ranch style with four bedrooms for their future children, he used to say. He told her that he couldn’t wait to be a father, which warmed her heart because becoming a mom in a year or two was her wish. A huge oak tree stands in the front yard covered in a lush lawn. Orange, yellow, and red marigolds decorate the walkway, and lavender hydrangeas and pink roses lean against the front of the house. But now the house that once was a home mirrors a prison. Cameras keep their eyes on her as he watches from his downtown office. Claustrophobia slithers down her spine. She struggles to quell the panic attacks. And her cell is meant only to reach him or to answer his calls. He tracks her like a wild animal. The ring on her finger stole all contact from the outside world – lost like a loved one’s passing. Grieving has no end, but she doesn’t dare misbehave because the pain is relentless.
She recalls the beautiful moments when his hands would send tingles from her neck down the map of her body. What did I do wrong? consumed her every thought when he transformed from loving husband to beast. Thoughts that became so tangled, she couldn’t ruminate until the truth stared her in the face. Her cheeks grew hot like asphalt in August from the realization that the monster had always existed.
Before the perfect couple whispered those two celebrated words on that breezy afternoon, signifying “You are my forever person,” he wore charm impeccably like a well-pressed dress shirt – his kisses intoxicating as jasmine, gentle like summer rain – respect enfolded in each embrace. Then donning satin and lace, the solitaire sparkled like her heart and soul, but true personas can take cover behind convincing eyes and smiles.
How could she have missed the signs? She ponders over and over.
Time – revelations, decisions, and strategies always take time. Her defense, submission, though she loathes appearing weak, and the agony tests her strength. But the path will wend its way, leading her to a door for a fresh start, caressing her bruised face and her body, his punching bag.
Gazing out the window, she watches courage whirl among the cottony clouds. Around the corner, freedom waits with intensity, as though motioning for her to come closer, excited for her new, safe beginning. She witnesses a glimpse of hope in the pink daisy pushing through the crack in the sidewalk.
But biding her time means life, and staying alive is her objective. She must bleed toughly. Resilience is her saving grace and not meant to be scattered on the floor, anymore. She must be smart to be free.
A collection of poems that speaks of nature’s healing touch, howlove shapes our lives, and the mysteries of life. Click on the image to purchase your copy. Thank you! 💚
My husband and I lost the month of September due to our first bout with Covid. A mild case, thankfully, but one that lingered. Additionally, I lost reading momentum, but I’m finally, finally catching up. In the evenings when the sun has bid farewell and the sky begins to darken, I let myself relax while diving into another world whether it be a fictional setting or soothing poetry. When it comes to writing reviews, sometimes I fall behind, but I’m trying to write them soon after I finish a book. We’ll see if I stick to this system. 😁 Anyway, I’m sharing my latest 5-star reviews for some fabulous books, and maybe you’ll be enticed enough to leave with a few. If you click on the book covers, you’ll be transported to Amazon for purchasing your copy or copies. And now for the reviews…
The Shadows We Breathe – An anthology edited by Sarah Brentyn
I thoroughly enjoyed this anthology of short stories written on the overall theme of power. How is it used? Who triumphs and who suffers? This book is compiled with the excellent writing of eight women and is divided into three parts: Flash fiction (500 words), Micro (50 words), and Microbursts (10 words).
The introduction prefaces the intrigue: “Shades of darkness live within – it is the nature of being human. Our uncertainties, mistakes, anxieties, regrets…These are the shadows we breathe.”
Even though the stories are short, they are not flimsy in entertainment. They are well written, powerful, and deep, evoking a myriad of emotions. Some slide into a darker category where the authors skillfully create worlds we only dare to imagine. Each story is compelling and unique, so I am unable to choose a favorite. However, this book is for all fiction enthusiasts who are brave enough to meet the shadows head-on.
Deep in the Forest where Poetry Blooms by D.L. Finn
Deep in the Forest Where Poetry Blooms by D. L. Finn is a gorgeous poetry collection that takes you on a magical journey of exploration through the forest and landscapes of life. The poems are written in free verse, but you’ll also find syllabic poetry such as limerick, tanka, and haiku. If you are a fan of flora and fauna, you will surely enjoy this ode to Mother Nature. So many poems resonate with me, and I read them slowly to relish in their stunning imagery and depth.
The book is divided into two parts where Finn invites you to take a stroll with her through the seasons of the forest as we observe ‘Green new growth and Dawn’s blush (that) filters through pines’ while delighting in ‘icy winter day/yelling in glee on a sled/inner child peeks out.’ Following the everchanging seasons, you’re guided into the enchantment of the forest where ‘Forest fairies celebrate.’ While reading “My Magic” I felt a sense of commonality as though this poem was written for me. Every day, violence dominates the news, so I can’t help but feel like ‘my world (is) gray and heavy.’ This poem begins with a spirit that feels defeated, and then a most uplifting realization arrives at the end.
Once you leave the magical forest, you are transported to the tropics where Finn expresses how this setting can be healing as ‘the tide washes over my skin/pulling life toward/I sink into the wet sand/And become part of the cycle.’ I was impressed to learn that she wrote underwater poetry while snorkeling! A lovely example is ‘sea soiree/mingling with the fish/bring plus one.’
Finn digs deeper into personal emotions in the second part, sharing great advice in “Consequences” and reminding you of the enduring presence of hope in “Life’s Song.” Since my husband and I have traveled many country and mountain roads on his adventure bike, her mountain musings from the back of a Harley evoke breathtaking memories, as well as stirring up excitement for more exhilarating rides to come. One of my favorites:
Distance
It took miles Flying through the pollen-laden air To get present within the moment. My mind racing Through each passing corner. Then I slowly noticed Emerald highlights the horizon. Orange blooms within my reach, Blue skies embrace me. Nature’s hues lightened the day As my worries drifted away. We pressed forward into the unknown, Distance became my harmony.
This collection concludes with a selection of Haibun, which is a new form to me. In “Magic Pages” Finn expresses how important her Kindle is: ‘I can barely contain my joy with so many words…’ And yet, you’ll be immersed into worlds of fantasy, you’ll feel love and grief, learn the truth, and of course, you’ll experience the magic and beauty of nature. Finn’s poems are relatable and elegantly written. A poetry collection that is good for the soul.
Why Grandma Doesn’t Know Me by Abbie Johnson Taylor
Why Grandma Doesn’t Know Me is the first book by Abbie Johnson Taylor that I have read, and I was thoroughly impressed with her writing. Taylor tells the story about a close-knit family – mom, dad, older and younger daughter, and the mom’s mother who is in a facility suffering with dementia. The grandmother who recalls events from years ago but whose short-term memory fails, shares a secret from the past with the older daughter without realizing it could tear the family apart. I felt compassion for the grandma because one of my family members passed away from dementia.
The chapters are written from the perspective of the family members: Daryl, Marti, Natalie, and Sarah, along with compelling supporting characters, and the story smoothly progresses from beginning to end. Taylor prompts the reader to question how this unsettling news would be received and handled in his or her own family. The story is engaging and well-written with surprising twists and turns. I found the characters to be authentic for their roles and ages, and the dialogue to be natural.
The reader will experience a variety of emotions as the plot unfolds, and there is a lesson to be learned after the turning of the last page. This book is for all fiction fans and for those who enjoy stories with a powerful message. I look forward to reading more from this talented author.
Broken Rhodes by Kimber Silver
I honestly can’t believe Broken Rhodes is Kimber Silver’s debut novel. It is so well-written and captivating from start to finish. I didn’t want to put this book down. It took me a few nights to reach the last page, but I could’ve finished in one if life hadn’t interrupted. Below is a glimpse into Chapter One that had me hooked:
“The morning sun peeked over his shoulder to light the way as he stepped farther into the house, but it did nothing to scatter the shadow that darkened this reconnaissance.” Silver created authentic dialogue, entertaining banter, and vivid imagery transporting the reader to Harlow, Kansas. The story offers suspense as a murder is under investigation, but it also includes family drama, and a love story that takes some nudging to get off the ground.
Kinsley, the main female character doesn’t need a knight in shining armor to save her, but she inherits this tough shield from her mysterious past. Once I learned the reason for the toughness, it was easy for me to empathize with her. I always enjoy reading books starring an empowering female lead. And the male lead, Lincoln, is the handsome cowboy sheriff, but a real gentleman. Both characters are likable from the beginning. The supporting characters are just as believable, and a few you’d love to meet for coffee, but several who you could easily loathe and even fear.
Broken Rhodes is a gripping and compelling story, so I’m keeping my eyes open for Silver’s next book. And if you enjoy a good whodunit with a dash of romance, you’ll love this book.
Thanks for reading, and I hope you don’t leave empty-handed! 🤗 *Side note: the order in which I share the reviews, as well as the length of each one, is irrelevant to my ratings. All of these books received 5-stars and are highly recommended.
Baydreamer Writes ~ Lauren Scott, Author 