I guess today is one of those days where I’m taking a moment to reflect and review. This year is a milestone year for me and I feel completely inadequate. It’s seven days into the new year and I already don’t feel equipped to take it on. With this thought and fact in mind, I feel a desperate need for inspiration.
I believe we all have a moment or moments where we feel like we are coasting through life and need to do some evaluating. I’ve reached that point. I’ve lived so much of my life for other people that I woke up one morning and realized I had no sense of who I was.
I have lived quite a bit of life in the short time that I’ve been on this earth. It’s unnerving when I think about the places I’ve seen and what I’ve accomplished. The fact that there is something in me that is still pushing for more, willing to strive for more is shocking.
I’ve heard on so many ocassions, “I could never do that” or “I’d be scared out of my mind to just up and go like that.” I’ve never been that person to fear the unknown in that manner. I embrace it and run toward it. Still, I sit in front of my computer today and wonder what is the next step? Where is the road leading me?
I don’t know. I know that there is truth in the featured image for this post. If it is weighing you down and causing you to feel limited and unhappy, it’s time to let it go. I know for a fact that it hurts like hell to do so. I feel the pain of it, the pressure from it, but know, in the end, my joy will multiply once I say goodbye to what’s holding me back.
I love the following quote because there is so much wisdom in the words. It is a reminder that life is hard and you must be ready to do battle to get what it is that you want. The thing it doesn’t say is remaining unhappy, seek sadness, struggle and endure sadness to obtain your goals.
“The longer you wait for something, the more you appreciate it when it finally arrives. The harder you fight for something, the more priceless it becomes once you achieve it. The more pain you endure on your journey, the sweeter the arrival at your destination. Remember… all good things are worth waiting for and fighting for.”
Christmas is supposed to be about love, support, giving–and most of all–family. The Pierson family had decided to come together to celebrate the holidays. The goal? Ignore all of the things that are terrorizing their individual lives and be in one space again. What could possibly go wrong? Mom is selling the house and has told no one. The two youngest male and female siblings have moved back home. No one knows why. There are things plaguing the family business. Why Eric Pierson thought he would be able to surprise his girlfriend with a proposal for Christmas and his “loving” family, he doesn’t know? He receives the surprise of a lifetime when the oldest of his younger sisters unwittingly invites his ex-girlfriend, who happens to be her former college roommate and friend, to spend the holiday with the family. This Christmas is quickly shaping up to be the one that not one of the Piersons will ever want to remember.
“Your father would’ve been proud of you. Madison beams every time she looks at that arm even though she is horrified knowing that you are in any pain because of her.”
“You think so? I think she’s pissed at me.”
Their mother had smirked and waited until Madison was out of earshot before she bent down to ask him her next question.
“Are you sexually deprived, Jamison?”
His stunned green gaze flicked to Eric before turning back to their mother. She smirked as his cheeks actually turned red with his embarrassment.
“I’m guessing that’s a no. If she was pissed off then she wouldn’t dote on you the way she does. The secret glances at her big, strong man wouldn’t happen. Sex would most definitely be off the table even if it were just for one day. Seeing as she hasn’t stopped brushing up against you, you aren’t begging for it. Quite the opposite.”
Eric had howled for ten full minutes after that keen observation from Evelyn Pierson.
Something new for me this week/month/year is finding a new space in the big state of Texas. I’ve recently moved to Houston. I know. If you follow me on Facebook it states this has been my home. I knew this was coming so I decided to have my settings already set up with my new hometown.
Let me just start this by saying: HOT DAMN! I don’t know if any of my readers have ever crossed from Louisiana into Texas via automobile. If you’ve never done it, I recommend doing so. There is a bridge that is scary as hell but amazingly beautiful at night to take in. (I suck because I don’t recall the name of the thing.)
Ha! I figured it out. Aren Cambre is the name of the bridge. (picture below) I’m so excited to be here. My brain is not fully functional because I’m still adjusting to the area, heat, and time difference. It’s only an hour, but even sixty minutes has the ability to affect your well-being. New hometown, new job, and new adventures as I try to get everything in order. Goodness gracious, the things that I need to handle.
Along with the newness of this place is the book that is soon to be released. Here is the cover, a teaser, and an excerpt from my upcoming November release.
My answers would come in the form of a phone call from my mother of all people.
“Hey Mom, how’s it going?”
“Oh good. I was hoping I didn’t call too late or wake the boys.”
“Congrats. You caught me in a rare moment of quiet.”
“Ah! I won’t keep you long because I recall all too well how few and far between those moments are. As a mother, you tend to cherish every second of them.”
I chuckled, “That’s exactly it. To what do I owe this call?”
“I had the strangest … visit today.”
“You did? From who?”
Never in a million years did I ever expect her to mention the name that she did.
“Nathaniel Porter. He surprised us with a rare visit and a bottle of wine. He just arrived back from a trip to Italy. Did you know that he’d gone there? He mentioned seeing you in Savannah a few months ago.”
Every part of my body felt as if it seized and locked in place. My hope was that nothing was said that would make my mother suspicious. I should’ve known my … Nathaniel was better than that.
“We did see each other.”
“I can’t believe that you were so close and didn’t make a trip to see your parents. I miss my other daughter. It’s not fair that Marilynn gets to spend so much time with our grandchildren. I want them to know me just as much as they know her.”
I hoped I could keep my mother on the subject of the little competition that she had going with Theodore’s mother. I just needed to be on the phone long enough to appease my mother’s need to keep in touch with all of her children and make a quick excuse as to why I couldn’t remain on the phone.
After about five minutes of reassurance that she’d see her grandchildren soon, I prepped to end the call when Nathaniel was brought up again.
“I was surprised to find out that Nate didn’t have the correct phone number for you. As close as you two have always been, I would think he would be one of the few that had every way to contact you at the touch of a screen.”
I clearly heard her unspoken question, but didn’t respond to it. Instead, I waited.
“Hmm. You’re quiet. Is there something going on that I need to know about? He said you’d left a bag of yours with him and he’d wanted to get it to you. If that weren’t odd enough, he appeared taken aback when I mentioned Theodore. The man seemed genuinely perplexed when I asked if your husband had been there on business or not. I actually had to say the words, ‘Theo is Clare’s husband.’ The devastation on that man’s face told me that there was more to the story than met the eye. Now, I ask again. Is there something that I need to be made aware of?”
This is why I have stated on countless occasions that mothers should automatically be given detective badges upon giving birth. My mother is a human lie detector and can sniff out misdirection better than anyone I know. Even with her skills, I find myself fighting the urge to spill my guts. I don’t want to discuss this. It’s too much. It’s more than I want to deal with right now.
The handle of the door twisting saves me from having to respond. I know who’s on the other side and I’ve never been so happy to hear that my husband is home in the entirely of our short marriage.
“Mom, I have to go. Theo is home. We’ll talk soon. I love you.”
I hear my mother’s tsk as clear as if she were standing directly in front of me.
“I’m going to go now, but know that I will be calling again soon and you will tell me what’s going on. Know that I know something’s not right, young lady.”
I’m beyond glad that I’m not in front of her. Those two words tacked on at the end would get me to sing like a canary. Until I get a handle on things, I don’t need to talk to anyone about what my feelings may or may not be for Nathaniel Porter.
“Mrs. Taylor, I’m home. Where are you and my babies?”
I hear Theo call from the foyer and turn in the chair that I’ve been parked in since I first entered the library.
“Mom, I’m going to go. I don’t like to be busy when Theo arrives home. He usually has a million things he wants to share with me.”
“Oh, all right. Fine. Go. I’ll call tomorrow.”
There’s a call I’ll be dreading, but know I will answer when she calls. I also know that the call will come tomorrow. She won’t be ignored and I’m unable to decline a call from her.
If only I could follow through with some of the hopes that floated through my brain, I would be so much happier.
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I am a very visual person. I have always been. I’m the type of author that uses my imagination along with visual references. The problem is I tend to get caught up in my research and have to remind myself where I was in my story. Why am I writing about this? Of course, this just happened to me. I am supposed to be putting together a character description for a story that I’m working on and I am being swept away by the beauty of some of the eyes that I am coming across.
I have these for the males that could easily cause a woman to overheat:
(Yes. I know there is a certain set of eyes posted twice. Aren’t they pretty.**pauses for a moment to take in the sights.)
Anyway, these are the females that could tempt a saint with their peepers:
Now, all I have to do is get my mind back on the story at hand and the character I was supposed be working on. I might feel like I’ve accomplished more than just this post.
I’m in need of a space, a place where I can go and know that it is mine to create what I wish to create. I know I want a place that is perfectly representative of me and my colorful self. Herein lies my issue:
1. I am eclectic. 2. I am colorful. 3. I don’t know where to start.
Have you ever gone to Pinterest and felt overwhelmed by the multitude of ideas that are there? It is astounding and a bit disconcerting to say the least.
Here are some of the things that I’ve found where I like something that I see, but don’t think it’s exactly me:
Since I am so eclectic and colorful, I need my office area or creative space to be the essential space that taps into both aspects of me. It also has to give me the room that I need to allow me the freedom to move about. What I don’t want is a place that I’m unable to feel comfortable enough to make a mess in or appears the area isn’t inviting.
A couple of these have potential but have the look of “serious business” happening in their spaces:
I don’t know.I think I might table this and return to it when my “writing bug” dissipates a bit. For now, I sit on my bed in my room and allow my characters to use me in the best way they possibly could.
Title: Breathe: Clarissa (The Pierson Twin Duet, Book 1)
Author: Rose Silverstone
Genre: NA Romantic Suspense
Release Date: November 18, 2016
*Both books can be read as a stand alone! (HEA or is it?)
I was absolutely flabbergasted and spellbound in that breath of time. I’d forgotten that he did that. We’d been apart too long for it to be an everyday recollection. Lying down on the sofa, he lay next to me and put his arms around my waist. I’ll admit that I don’t have much of a backside, but there is enough back there to make note of. I’ve been grabbed and periodically pinched enough to know there’s something to hold on to. Most of those grabs and pinches came because I was mistaken for my overtly friendly twin, but that’s neither here nor there at the moment or any future situation. The point is, Nathaniel did something I never thought I’d ever enjoy. After wrapping those long, strong arms around my waist, he squeezed the cheeks of my ass together then patted the bottom before making himself comfortable. I couldn’t let it pass without speaking on it. “Did you just fluff my ass cheeks like a pillow?” “I did. It’s not anything new so I don’t know why you’re sounding the way you are. You know you like it.” I did like it. I’ve never told him that and I probably never will, but I tend to get turned on when he does it. It’s like the action is a way of him making a claim on me. It wasn’tsomething he’d ever ventured to explain the reason for before. “Whether I like it or not, don’t you feel weird? I mean aren’t uncomfortable lying like that?” “Nope. these babies make for a mighty fine enough pillow,” he said as he squeezed them again. I smirked and a little giggle slipped out as he released his “pillows” to get comfortable again. “Tonight, I get to have my Rissa Bear pillows lull me to sleep.”
Catch your breath as Clarissa learns to control hers. It’s the first thing she should learn to control then maybe she’ll get a handle on everything else in her life.
“I have to show you something. I hope it’ll make you laugh because … well, you look like you need one right about now.”
I sat taller in my seat as I waited for him to pull something up on his phone. When he turned the screen toward me, I could see that he had a blog page filling the screen. A Mind of Creation was the name of it and he apparently was the mind behind it. After a few more touches of the screen, he handed me the phone.
“Don’t freak out on me or anything. I just want to show you something. I said I would if ever I had the opportunity. I didn’t think it was going to be this soon. Anyway, there it is.”
I give him a puzzled look before beginning to read the blog post.
There was a girl I had in my life. No, let me begin again. Once upon a time, I believed two close friends could become more and would be man and wife. The two friends, myself and another, knew everything about one another, could practically finish each other’s sentences, and were each other’s shadows. All was right in their world. I’ve been told we were crazy to believe that a male and female could be nothing more than friends. During our younger years, I would have vehemently disagreed. We were nothing more than friends; until we weren’t.
One day something changed; I changed. I went from watching my best friend do her normal routine of fixing her hair, putting on lip gloss, and spraying that spray that made her smell like berries to seeing her as this amazingly beautiful young woman. There are only a handful of people that know how much I enjoy berry flavors. there are certain things that affect my olfactory system so strongly that I have a visceral reaction to it. Smelling that scent that day made such a reaction happen. It’s the only way I can describe that change. I didn’t know what to do with what I was feeling. It’s something I’d never done before.
I don’t believe she ever knew how strongly the feelings were that I felt for her. I was always just her very best friend. There was this poem that she wrote. I don’t even know if she remembers it. She trashed it because of the content. Needless to say, I fished it out and have kept it for safe keeping. In my mind, it was one of the most honest things she ever wrote. I don’t know if she still puts pen to paper or fingers to keys. I don’t even recall who this was for. I dreamed a long time ago that I was its intended reader
I’ve been thinking about you
And all the things you can do
The way you make me feel
It seems surreal
There are thoughts in my mind
That make me want to find
A very special place
To put an end to this race
The racing of my heart
Make me want to part
My lips with my fingertips
Take a few sips
Make me detonate
I’m your willing plate
Have me for your meal
Breakfast, dinner, dessert, whatever you feel
I don’t know what made me share this today. I guess it was just something I was thinking about as I prepared myself for this next venture and pulled together the makings for a berry cobbler. (<- Yes, Readers, I’m the one baking this from scratch.)
Below the post was the recipe for his mom’s berry cobbler, but it was missing a key ingredient. I smiled to myself because only close family and friends would know what was missing from the mix.
I’m sure he was probably thinking I was smirking for an entirely different reason.
“I noticed the missing ingredient in your mom’s dessert, something I know is your personal favorite.”
“Really? I won’t bring up the obvious elephant just yet. Go ahead. Wow me!”
“The salted caramel base is missing. Your mom never put much, but it was always at the base of the dish.”
Nathaniel looks genuinely impressed by my knowledge.
“I am … amazed. My sister doesn’t even know that. It’s something my mom made me promise not to share that secret.”
“I’m not surprised. Jeannie didn’t and still doesn’t strike me as the type to care about the things that make up the meals. She is always about …”
“The final product.”
We said it at the same time and gave in to the laughter that we felt. It relieved some of the tension we were feeling. Looking at Nathaniel, I realized just how much I missed laughing with my friend. I wasn’t given much time to dwell on it.
“Now, let’s get back to the elephant.”
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There is so much that could be said to define who I am but only one thing comes to mind: book lover. It is what I have been and will always be. I am addicted to created works and the minds behind them. It is a pleasure and honor to know that I am now creating works of my own. Take heart those suspenseful moments in life.
“They are the ones that prepare for some of the most interesting surprises.” RS