An Eclectic Author: Bookstrand

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Ciara Lake - Mother, Lawyer, Writer

Hello Romance Readers, I’m Ciara Lake. Since I was in high school, I dreamed of writing. During the day, I’m a lawyer. I represent children in juvenile and domestic court protecting their interest. I have two children of my own but live with seven children all together. My two boys are very talented with music and writing. We love the arts. Our household has two wonderful dogs too. We have a Great Pyrenees and and Shiba Inu to bring our house happiness. We are a very busy family.

One of my high school teachers was Karen Harper. I admired her writing books and now she has many published. She was my English teacher. Goes to show how adults can really influence children and teenagers. As of October 2011, I have three books available to be purchased, The Triaxen, Xihirah, and The Ketchikan Man.

I’m doing this series with Author Patricia Bates writing as Elise Whyles, Beachwalk Press is publishing the Forsaken series.

The series will feature a fantasy world filled with fantasy realms. There will be dragons, vampires, trolls, merpeople, Greek gods, Norse gods, myths, the enchanted forest, and more. Each book is a sensual experience for our readers. Both Elise and I are very excited to provide this fantasy experience to our readers. My first book in the Forsaken Series is Curse of a Dragon’s Claim book 2 in the Forsaken Series. If you enjoy dragon shifters, you’ll love Clayne MacDagon. I met Elise aka Patricia while working with my first publisher. She is an excellent editor and we have made a good friendship. With our friendship, we started talking about this Forsaken series and it was born. I am very excited about how it is developing.

I am getting ready to submit my next book in the Forsaken series, Forsaken Norse Wind book 4. It’s a story about a handsome troll who was once a Viking. I have a new spin on trolls. You’ll love Axel Venrick. I don’t think there are many books about trolls. Book 2 is to be released May 21, 2012.

I am currently working on book 6 in the Forsaken Waves of Time. This story is about a strong spirited environmentalist lawyer, Tabitha Lock. Ms. Lock is defending a company alleged to be polluting the waterways. A Merman, Jax Aquilla, also an environmental lawyer, for The Poseidon Firm, has an agenda regarding Ms. Lock and an intense dislike for the wasteful, careless, 21st century humans, who pollute our world. Jax is very intolerant at first, yet Tabitha loosens him up a bit. The two destined lovers start at odds, literally on opposite sides, but their love conquers their differences. The intensity turns to passion. Since I am a lawyer, I really am enjoying writing about lawyers.

To write is a true stress relief. It’s as if I can escape on a vacation in front of my computer. After all, in my fictional worlds there’s a big difference from the world I work in, divorce court. There’s always a happy ending in my books. sci fi and paranormal books are the most exciting to write. There are no limits to what I can imagine and write down.

Thank you, for the opportunity to blog to share a little about me as well as about my projects. Many thanks to all the readers who enjoy my adventures in love. Feel free to email me

Curse of a Dragon's Claim

by Ciara Lake

Available from Beachwalk Press

Blurb:

The realm of Dragons is a world of magic, danger and mystery. Embroiled in a brutal war with the Vampires, they’ve often travelled to our realm. Caught between two powerful immortal beings, humans and those once Forsaken by the immortal realm, have paid the ultimate in price.On the cusp of an ancient evils rising, a beautiful Forsaken, Arianna Mergliano will discover she’s something more than she ever imagined.

Clayne MacDagon, a powerful dragon warrior embittered by his twin’s death is sent on a mission to find the dracvipen. Seeing Arianna, he knows she is his fated mate. Embracing this truth, he takes her as his own. Together, they must face the shadows and evil that have long plagued the immortal realms and find a way to survive the coming war with their love as their only weapon.

Ciara Lake

Website ~ Twitter ~ Facebook ~ Bookstrand

Wednesday's Words, by Morgan Asbury

Life has returned to normal in the Ashbury household. Well, as normal as we ever get, at any rate. My beloved is back at work, the cat has forgiven me for leaving her with my daughter, the evil diet-meister, and the dog is once more content in the daily presence of his deity, the daddy of the house.

This week, I have a few more days to myself before routine returns full force with my grandchildren sleeping over a few times a week, and my getting them up and ready for school in the morning.

They're good kids, and not difficult to manage at all. They seem, for the most part, a lot more amenable than my own children ever were. For the record, I think their mother—our `second daughter' who was our late son's former fiancée—has done an excellent job in raising them.

As I reported to you at the beginning of the year, I never make New Year's resolutions, per se. I do, however, constantly seek to "do a better job" of everything in my life. And nowhere is that a more pressing need than in the area of time management.

I have to try and learn how to make better use of my time. But the older I get, the faster time seems to go. I try, I really do, but more often than not I'm left at the end of the day wondering if I'd been abducted by aliens, who then went ahead and sucked two or three hours of precious time out of my schedule, and my conscious mind.

I think in many ways, I defy definition. In some areas and about some things I am so anal that my family is left shaking their heads in my wake. In case you ever wondered, let me set the record straight right here and now. Yes, there really is only one way to: fold towels, put away clothing, make the bed, set the table, make out a grocery list, prepare juice from frozen concentrate, and vacuum the living room carpet.
But about other things? Holy chaos, Batman, you should see my office! You'd think I had never heard of the word, `organization'. I have all manner of pieces of whatever under my monitor, around my keyboard, and beside and on top of my printer. My desk drawers would give pause to the most dedicated tidier, and my shoes and slippers can be found all over the darned house.

One of the areas where I am very `sanguine' is in my (nearly non-existent) time management skills. It's an effort for me to stay on track each day, to keep my mind focused on what I want to accomplish, because at times I can be so very easily distracted.

I know that I'd be better served if I got myself one of those nifty little word processor machines my good friend Lara Santiago has. That way, I could write without easy access to the Internet, and all those wonderful and fun time-sucking ways of being distracted.

Alas, I'm weak.

I know the secret for me lies in my own ability to employ some good, old fashioned self-discipline. And as each day dawns, I fully intend to do just that.

Some days, I do a pretty good job of it, too.

And then we have the other five days of the week.

Just today, as I was composing this essay, I had a bizarre thought. Do you suppose I could be looking at this situation all wrong? Could it be that this fluctuating, nose-to-the-grindstone one day and devil-may-care frittering away of minutes the next might actually, when the two are melded together, simply be my process? We all know that each writer's process is unique unto them. Could that possibly be it?

Sigh. No, I didn't really think so, either. I guess I'm just going to have to try harder.
Love,

Morgan

The only dream I've ever had was to be a published author. It was a dream formed in childhood, and held on to through the business of growing up. Life intruded, as life does, and my dream was put on hold. But now, through hard work, faith, and luck dream has evolved into reality.

Romance is a wonderful genre that accommodates every other. Comedy, mystery, paranormal, suspense, or science fiction, romance embraces them all. Erotic romance gives all of that, and so much more.

For readers who want all the best traditional romance has to offer – great characters, compelling stories and a happy ending – and who crave that extra bit of heat – I invite you to read one of my novels and let me know what you think!

Love Under Two Navy Seals

by Cara Covington

Available from Bookstrand

Julia Benedict fled New York City for her home of Lusty, Texas, after one unforgettable night making love under two navy SEALs. She’s fallen for them, hard. But Dev and Drew are the wrong type of men! They’re more Alpha than all the men of her family combined, and if there’s one thing Julia doesn’t want, it’s a pair of husbands who will boss her around just as her brothers have always done.

As Dev and Drew set out to court her, Julia begins to understand there’s a world of difference between bossy brothers and strong, caring lovers. But a case of mistaken identity finds Julia kidnapped. Her lovers must find her before she’s turned over to Miguel Ramos.

With Julia back home safely, the SEALs know their enemy will strike again. But as the men of Lusty gather to entrap the villain, it is the women who take the biggest stand—and the biggest risk.

Wednesday's Words, by Morgan Asbury

When we left for our vacation on the 6th of February it almost seemed as if winter hadn't arrived here yet. There was no snow on the ground, and the temperatures were fairly mild—almost consistently above freezing.

Nature took care of that little oversight while we were away. Though the snow wasn't deep when we got home, it was everywhere, and the land does indeed at last look like Southern Ontario in February.

We had a wonderful time on our vacation. We met more people – both fellow tourists, and locals – than we have on any vacation in a long time. It was amazing being back in Port Lucaya after nearly 20 years. The marina and a fountain were actually the only places we recognized. What had in our memory been a quaint assemblage of a few shops, and a large outdoor tiki bar overlooking a marina has turned into a thriving marketplace, where local craftsmen and women offered everything from clothing to jewelry to wood carvings.

Mr. Ashbury and I did indeed contribute, albeit modestly, to the local economy.

We took part in two excursions, as well. We participated in something called "Bonfire on the Beach" an evening of entertainment and music, food and drink provided by one of the local tour companies. And we enjoyed a two hour program put on by Unexso, which stands for Underwater Explorer's Society. In other words, we had a "Dolphin Encounter".

Mr. Ashbury was the one who got into the tank with the beautiful mammal, and had the opportunity to pet him. He even had his picture taken getting kissed by the dolphin. I elected to stay out of the drink and take pictures...but of course, I didn't stay dry, as the dolphin executed a couple of well-learned manoeuvres guaranteed to get everyone there sopping wet.

Tourism is the main industry in The Bahamas, so you can imagine that the downturn in the global economy has been devastating for these people. And yet, wherever we went, we were greeted with smiles, and kindness, and open-hearted welcome.

The pool was too chilly to swim in, as was the ocean—although Mr. Ashbury didn't let that stop him from having a dip into the briny almost every day. Of course we didn't let the weather disrupt our vacation. You can't control if it's sunny, or rainy, or suddenly unseasonably cool. You can only control your reaction to it all. It was our vacation, after all, and up to us to make of it what we would.

There were a couple of cabanas poolside, and here I would sit, several hours at a time, either reading or writing while the ocean breeze refreshed me, and the sight of pool, palm trees, and ocean rejuvenated me. Of course I wrote in this paradise, because to me, that is one of the purest pleasures in my life. How amazing it was to do so in such beautiful surroundings.

Mr. Ashbury and I both consider ourselves very blessed to enjoy vacations away from home as often as we do.

As much as I look forward to going someplace where I'm free from the everyday demands and stresses of life, I'm just as happy to come home. Having been born under the sign of Cancer, I really am a homebody, and never truly so happy as when I am in my own cave, doing my own thing—be it taking care of my family, reading a good book, or crafting a good story.

I'm pleased to announce two career milestones. My 25th book comes out on Friday! And, I have had my web site professionally re-designed. I'm so pleased with it I have a contest on the news page with a $30 prize. If you get a moment, please stop by and check it out. Wednesday's Word's blog.
Love,

Morgan

Love Under Two Navy Seals

by Cara Covington

Available from Bookstrand

With Julia back home safely, the SEALs know their enemy will strike again. But as the men of Lusty gather to entrap the villain, it is the women who take the biggest stand—and the biggest risk.

Wednesday's Words, by Morgan Ashbury

The sound of the surf and the wonderful sensations of the salt breeze on my face, and my laptop under my fingertips: this is vacation at its best, at least to me.

We arrived at the resort in Freeport, in The Bahamas early Monday evening, just at dusk. I can report that our "ocean view" room really affords us a totally awesome, full-on ocean view. We're on the fifth floor, and from our balcony we can see the grounds of the resort, including some of the pools, and the ocean—big, blue, and magnificent.

I've found an unoccupied cabana (alas, no Cabana boys in attendance) and I'm intending to test how long the battery on my laptop will work. I'm only a few feet from one of the pools—the one that has the pool bar in it. This pool also has a special feature that makes it look as if it bleeds into the ocean.

I haven't dipped my toes in the pool yet. That's because I'm watching these big burly types standing on the stairs, water only up to to their knees, just standing there, chatting together, acting as if the pool isn't far and away too cold for their tastes.

I'll get into it by and by. At this moment, however, having deposited me safely where I can write, my beloved has taken himself to the beach, not even 100 feet from where I sit. He loves the ocean. He'll swim every day, no matter the weather, just because he can.

Our kids think that's funny as hell because in years past, their dad never liked to swim and so never went into the water. His stated reason? Because the water was wet.

Yesterday morning as we were having our first coffee of the day on our balcony, I thought of my parents. In their day (let's say the early 1960s), this kind of travel was something only the very rich were able to afford, and this resort something they might only have ever seen on the silver screen.

Sometimes, especially lately with the downturn in the economy that we've all experienced, it's easy to forget that we as a society have come a long way in the last fifty years.

But we have, and in no area more dramatically, I believe, than in the realm of vacations and vacation travel.

What used to be considered a special privilege that you would only allow yourself once every two or three years, is now an annual, or even semi-annual entitlement. What used to cost thousands of dollars now costs but hundreds. And while that is still a lot of money, a Caribbean vacation is not out of reach, really, for anyone who wants one badly enough and is willing to save up for it.

In the mean time, while I'm not certain when I'll venture into the too-cold for Morgan pool, the hot tub seats about 12 and is very, very fine.

As for Mr. Ashbury, he has returned from the ocean, and the pool, and has noted that one of the hammocks—the one fairly close to where we're sitting, in fact—is unoccupied. He's never actually tried one out before, though he has heard tales from others who have and swear by them. The two gentlemen who come immediately to mind in this instance are our oldest son, and Mr. Wildes, beloved husband of my dear friend, Emma Wildes.

David gave it a good try Tuesday afternoon, and has judged it a good place to spend some time. He needs but a towel under him and a book in his hand, he said and he will be content.

Apparently, we're not that far apart on our individual interpretation of the word, `paradise'.

If you'd like a peek at our morning view, check out my Wednesday's Word's blog.
Love,

Morgan

Love Under Two Navy Seals

by Cara Covington

Available from Bookstrand

With Julia back home safely, the SEALs know their enemy will strike again. But as the men of Lusty gather to entrap the villain, it is the women who take the biggest stand—and the biggest risk.

Wednesday's Words, by Morgan Ashbury

This time next week, the Ashburys will once more be on vacation. It would seem that this year, we will definitely earn the moniker, "traveling fools". The next few trips will be related to my career—we plan to attend the RT convention in Chicago in April, the RWA convention in Anaheim in July, and the first ever Siren-Bookstrand conference taking place in Dallas, Texas, in August. This trip, however, is just for us.

Mr. Ashbury has wanted to travel to a warm clime this time of year for the past several years, and so we are going to The Bahamas for a week.

I consider myself very lucky to do the traveling I do, even though there's a huge part of me that would just as soon stay home. I am a homebody at heart, and never so happy as when I have my domain all to myself.

These last few weeks have seen a flurry of activity on our part, trying to decide where to go. The only criterion was that the destination had to be warm enough to swim.

Unfortunately and very sadly, one major "warm locale" that a lot of Canadians visit annually was absolutely off the table as far as we were concerned, and that place was Mexico.

One needs only to have paid attention to international news over the last few years to hear about the dozens of Canadians who've been victims of violence in that country—112 Canadians dead in the last 5 years according to the (Canadian) federal Department of Foreign Affairs and International Trade.

Perhaps 112 out of the million or so who have visited isn't that high a number, statistically, but it's high enough for us. My heart breaks for those whose loved ones have come to grief; and it's a shame for that historically colourful country, because Mexico and her people deserve better than to be earning the kind of reputation that they have, lately. I know many Canadians still consider Mexico a fine spot to vacation and are going there, regardless of recent events.

The Ashburys aren't willing to take that chance.

So it's off to the Bahamas, to swim, and to sun (a little) and just basically decompress. I'll be taking my laptop, of course. I'd go nuts if I couldn't write, because writing isn't so much my job as it's my passion. Being an author isn't what I do, it's who I am.

Mr. Ashbury likes to walk around and explore. Being a history buff (and convinced he was a pirate in a previous life), there's always plenty to grab his attention. With his exploring and my writing, we're always ensured of a good combination of together time and alone time that makes our vacations the best they can be.

I've been assured that I'll be able to rent a mobility scooter once I'm there, so I'm looking forward to a bit of exploration, myself. And while I don't like to shop at home, I love looking at all the souvenirs and such these places have for sale. I've already gotten `gift requests' from a couple of my grandchildren.

The winter in our neck of the woods so far has been rather placid. We did receive an unexpected dumping of a few inches of snow on Sunday afternoon—snow that is gone now. Although it doesn't take much in the way of cold and wet to attack my arthritis, Mr. Ashbury hasn't even had the opportunity to haul out his snow blower yet. Sunday he just used the shovel, and called it done.

I told him not to worry; he likely would get the opportunity to pull out that machine before spring arrives. After all, this is Canada, and winter always leaves its mark.

In the Bahamas, we'll be staying at a hotel that is very close to a beach, with high-speed Internet available. So I'll be able to post my essay on schedule and keep in touch with my family and friends.

Love,

Morgan

Love Under Two Navy Seals

by Cara Covington

Available from Bookstrand

With Julia back home safely, the SEALs know their enemy will strike again. But as the men of Lusty gather to entrap the villain, it is the women who take the biggest stand—and the biggest risk.

Wednesday's Words, by Morgan Ashbury

In all likelihood, my perspective, on this topic, is skewed.

My father died when I was 8 and a half years old. That one traumatic event impacted my life as a child and continues to do so to this very day. I can tell you, quite honestly, that from the moment my father passed away, I lived in terror that my mother would die, too.

Thirteen years later, she did, and I was orphaned at the tender age of 21.

Losing my parents when I was young, therefore, has given me a bias on the subject that's been on my mind these last few days. That subject is how we, as a society, treat our elderly.

I've seen a few cases first hand of people traversing a path I never had the opportunity to follow; that of adults having to deal with their elderly parents.

I'm not sure I understand why one would "handle" their parents by sticking them in a "seniors' care facility".

Yes, I know that sometimes there really is no choice. If our loved one needs more care, especially medical care, than we're capable of giving, for example, then I can understand the need for using this alternative. But in my mind, and in my heart—unless the senior in question truly wants to go and live in such a place—this should be a last resort.

I've known of a few families who have "sent mom to the home". The parent was old, and moved slowly, but was not really sick, and not really in need of constant medical supervision. Yet plop, plop, there went the poor grannies dropped off to live in a small room, surrounded by other small rooms, to be tended to by strangers for the rest of their lives.

Is this another case of Morgan being overly naive again? Maybe it is easy for me to talk, as I'll never have to back up my words with actions. But, don't we owe our parents every bit of care and attention we can give them? Don't we owe them some of ourselves?

See, I can't decide if the trend—taking your aging parent to a facility for them to live out what's left of their lives—is motivated by laziness, carelessness, or some immature desire for payback. I'm just a bit cynical that this action is taken to be in the very best interest of the elderly person in question.

I've seen firsthand the heartbreak that comes to a person whose children more or less abandon them to live among strangers.

How can anyone do that to their mother? This is the same woman who carried them in her womb for nine months; who gave birth in a fog of pain, eschewing drugs in case those drugs brought harm to the baby.

Mothers and fathers are very special, and very precious. You only ever really have one of each in your life.

There are cases when there are few alternatives. In this age of two-career households, it might be a challenge leaving an elderly person alone all day. I get that. Of course there are agencies who specialize in home visits, people who for a very reasonable fee will come by as often as you need them to, to see to it all is well with granny.

I have no doubt that it could be a challenge incorporating an elderly parent into your household. It would require patience and care and maybe a little juggling. I also bet it would be quite a bit of work, having an extra person to see to. It certainly wouldn't meet anyone's definition of easy.

Just as, I imagine, it was some work, and challenge, and frustrating for that parent to have taken care of you.

I'm sad that as a society, and in this area, we allow ourselves the opportunity to choose between doing what is right and doing what is expedient.

Because I am a great believer in the law of sewing and reaping, I would like to add this caution. As you deal with your elderly parents, your children are watching and taking notes.

Love,

Morgan

Love Under Two Navy Seals

by Cara Covington

Available from Bookstrand

With Julia back home safely, the SEALs know their enemy will strike again. But as the men of Lusty gather to entrap the villain, it is the women who take the biggest stand—and the biggest risk.

Wednesday's Words, by Morgan Ashbury

It's amazing how quickly life returns to normal, isn't it? Everyone's back at work or school now, most of the television series have returned to new episodes, and politics is the word of the day on the Sunday morning talking heads.

I have to confess I don't follow American politics as closely as I used to. Heck, I don't follow Canadian politics, either. Maybe my inner curmudgeon is not only no longer inner but aggressively outspoken. It just seems to me that everyone can talk the talk, but no one can walk the walk.

I'd much rather read a book—or write one. Or spend time with the newest members of my family.

I don't know if I mentioned it, but my daughter got herself a new pet a few months ago—not another cat, surprisingly, but a dog.

Well, it's advertised as being a dog, but I call it a puppy-cat. It's a Chihuahua, and her name is Bella.

She got the puppy when it was just 9 weeks old. Because of the breed, and because we live in Ontario, Canada, of course the dog needs to have a wardrobe.

She has sweaters, and coats. My daughter tried to get it to wear little booties, but frankly, that just wasn't happening. In October, Bella had a Halloween costume. Yes, she went around dressed up to look like a green caterpillar.

My daughter is devoted to this animal, and the dog adores her right back. That's probably the major difference between the two major species of domestic pets.

Dogs—even ones who come disguised as puppy cats—tend to be more affectionate toward and more dependent upon humans than cats are. I've always said the major difference is that dogs have masters, while cats have staff.

One good thing about my daughter having a puppy is, she won't let it wander free the way the cats have, so I won't soon get a new boarder here. The down side of that is, there have been a few times over the last couple of months when my husband and I have been asked to "puppy sit".

When she asks, I always tell her to ask her father. My position is logical. I was the one who did all the child care and housekeeping while holding an outside job. Any grandchild entertaining—be it a human, feline or canine grandchild—is up to him.

He sometimes grumbles, but then I look and see he has the puppy-cat on his lap, sound asleep.

The only problem my daughter had with the new family member is that her puppy tended to demand all of her attention—very much like a little child. On her days off, she found it difficult to get anything done as Bella wanted to play all the time.

I thought the solution to this would come with time and patience and training. My daughter, however, had another idea. She decided that what the puppy really needed was a baby sister.

If Bella, by virtue of her size is a puppy-cat, then Ivy, the new Chihuahua most definitely qualifies as a puppy-rat. Don't worry, my daughter takes very good care of them both, and Bella seems delighted to have a baby sister. Jenny laughs, of course, at the names I have given the two canines.

As you might imagine, when it comes to my daughter, the apple didn't fall far from the tree. I have been given a new title in the family, too.

Apparently, I am now Grandma-puppy.

For anyone who's interested, I've posted a picture of Bella the puppy-cat on my blog. The address is below.

Love,

Morgan

Love Under Two Navy Seals

by Cara Covington

Available from Bookstrand

With Julia back home safely, the SEALs know their enemy will strike again. But as the men of Lusty gather to entrap the villain, it is the women who take the biggest stand—and the biggest risk.

Wednesday's Words, by Morgan Ashbury

Here we all are, full of good food, good drink, and too many sweets. We love the holiday season, but we also love to return to our regular routines.

At least, I do.

I'm not at all ashamed to admit that I am a creature of habit, one who quite happily entrenches herself in the minutiae of day-to-day living.

I function best when I have a schedule, when I know what I'm supposed to be doing on any given day, at any given time.

I have a good friend who says I should be more spontaneous. My response is always, "I'll put it on my schedule."

My beloved returned to work yesterday after taking his traditional week off between Christmas and New Years. Here is where I hang my head in shame and admit to all and sundry that I'm really glad he's back at work.

Because, you see, while he had the week off from doing anything, I only had the week off from driving him to work. No small thing, I loved having my sleep uninterrupted for 11 straight days. I appreciated that, I really did.

But otherwise those eleven days didn't feel like any kind of vacation time to me. I find it very difficult to stick to a one-person-in-the-house-routine when there's someone else there with me.

He came home from work yesterday exhausted, of course. I'd warned him he would. At our ages bad habits form in about an eighth of the time good ones do; his body had gotten used to spending the day in the comfort of his lounge chair—or stretched out on the sofa—or in bed having a nap—and it therefore complained bitterly about going back to work.

There's something to be said about being a body in motion that stays in motion. Whereas he was whipped by yesterday's return to routine, I was energized (well, except for the driving part).

Did you make any New Year's resolutions? I didn't. I don't believe in setting myself up for failure. This year, I simply took some time to think ahead to the kind of year I want to have. Just as each evening my prayer is for me to be just a bit better the next day in each area of my life from the day before, so I hope this New Year is just a bit better than the one just passed.

For me, better no longer has anything to do with finances. I've lived long enough that I understand good times come, and they go...but they usually come around again. My beloved says the economy is cyclical, down in years ending in an 8 and up in years ending in a 2.

No, better for me means that I do better. As a writer, it means that my words are clearer, more evocative, more creative; as a wife that I am more attuned to the moods and needs of my husband, more patient and less demanding; as a mother that I pay attention to the very fine line between helping and enabling, and am freer with kind words and hugs; as a granny, that I make sure the freezer is always full of popsicles and ice cream, and the cupboards overflow with cookies and that I listen and again am freer with kind words and hugs.

I can't change anyone but me. So rather than focus on how I am treated by others, I instead choose to focus on how I behave, myself.

Because, you see, I have learned that it's only my attitudes and my efforts that directly fill my `happiness' tank.

Love,

Morgan

Brazen Seduction

by Morgan Ashbury

Available from Siren-Bookstrand

Molly Durant has been in love with Richard Grant since she was a teen. Richard has always treated her as a kid, but she’s never given up hope that he would someday notice her and claim her as his own. Then Molly met Alan Zimmerman and felt an identical kick to her lust-o-meter that Richard inspired. When she discovered the two men were D/s and members of a certain club, Molly planned a most Brazen Seduction.

Richard has always told himself his best friend’s baby sister, Molly, is off limits. When Molly appears at Reckless Abandon, a submissive to be auctioned to the highest bidder, Richard knows he must win her.

But another wants Molly and believes she was meant to be his sex slave. And he will stop at nothing until he has her exactly where he wants her.

Will Richard and Alan claim Molly as their mate, or will time run out?

Wednesday's Words, by Morgan Ashbury

This time of year can be the brightest of times, or the darkest of times, depending mostly on the people in our lives, and how we choose to see things.

For those lucky enough to be surrounded by family and friends, Christmas and Hanukkah can be filled with love and laughter, fun and food. Yes, it's a hassle going shopping at the mall, or trying to find the best roast or turkey at the supermarket. A good parking spot can be difficult to find, and sometimes one has to deal with others whose patience has deserted them. When we're running low on that commodity ourselves, it doesn't take much for us to lose it.

But generally, with all the rushing around and money spent, nerves frayed and the air around us sometimes turning blue, in the end we decide it's all been worth it. When we're in the midst of the celebrations, surrounded by the warmth of loved ones, when we share fellowship, we know that these are the moments that build memories and the ones that led up to them, those noisy, bothersome hassles, are nothing in comparison, and soon forgotten.

But for those who are alone or lonely, those who are dealing with very lean finances, and those who are grieving the loss of loved ones, this time of year can be excruciatingly painful. For those whose hearts have been shattered, whose souls have been battered, it's hard to be surrounded by the joyousness of the season, when songs and scents remind us of happier days, and those lost to us forever.

I think that life is like an empty vessel that is filled with a varying combination circumstance and attitude. Things happen beyond our control and it is left to us to deal with those occurrences, however we can, for better or for worse.

Traditions help, I think. Yes, they can be reminders of what has been lost, but they can also bring us closer, for just a moment, to those now gone, both people and times. Whatever our traditions may be, whether it is the sharing a particular meal, or the lighting a particular candle, an orange in the toe of a stocking, or a certain movie watched on television, in those moments, what was and what is are joined in the spirit of that tradition. Past and present become one, a chain unbroken reaching through the generations.

In our household we observed various small traditions, some that I enjoyed as a child, and some that my beloved cherished in his youth. These we passed on to our children, who in turn have passed them on to theirs.

There is comfort to be found in family traditions. We need these touchstones, even more as the world around us becomes increasingly hectic. As I get older, the world does seem to move faster. It's harder to keep up. How wonderful, then, that some things don't change.

This isn't, of course, only a Christian truth. I think it's a human truth. I think that no matter one's faith, there is a need within us to have something we can look to, to hang on to, that is permanent, and in its own way, sacred.

Life may be spanned by decades, but it is lived a moment at a time. Memories are made in these special moments; memories are precious, and memories last.

I wish everyone every good thing during this Holiday Season. May you have peace and joy, love and laughter. Whether you're celebrating Christmas, or Hanukkah, or Kwanzaa, I hope the traditions you create and the ones you perpetuate bring you happiness and joy.

One of my family's favorite traditions is a steamed pudding that my mother made each Christmas, and that I now make as well. If you're interested, you can find the recipe on my Wednesday's Words blog, url below. What makes this pudding special is that the only fat it in comes from 1/3 of a cup of milk!

Love,

Morgan

Brazen Seduction

by Morgan Ashbury

Available from Siren-Bookstrand

Wednesday's Words, by Morgan Ashbury

This past Saturday the Ashburys perpetuated their newest Christmas tradition, now three years old: grandmother-granddaughter cookie baking day.

My youngest granddaughter, the one I help care for on a regular basis, loves to bake. 11 is an interesting age for a girl, don't you think? Half child, half adolescent, 11 is a time for sometimes forgetful/clumsy/emotional moments, and sometimes amazingly adult and insightful ones.

At least I have found it to be so with Emma.

One moment she's bemoaning the fact that not getting her way is just not fair [stamp foot here]; the next, she's using her fork as a pointer at the dinner table when she tells my beloved, "Remember, Grandpa, happy wife—happy life."

Emma's mother isn't a baker, and so she comes to me and her other grandmother, for the chance to indulge her culinary creative side.

I happen to know that I don't let her do as much as her other grandmother does—she informed of this on Saturday—but then she admitted that her other grandmother makes cakes, not cookies that have to be rolled out.

I am immune to the efforts of children to apply guilt.

I rolled out the dough – and this year I cheated and bought pre-made sugar cookie dough – and she cut them, put them on the tray, and then collected the cooled cookies for decorating.

We have fun, and I try and teach her how to do things "the old fashioned way" [read, by hand]. It's a good time to talk about anything under the sun. Mostly, she talks and I listen. I like to think that when she's a granny, she'll look back on these times with a smile.

I made the icing for the cookies but she did the rest, with icing and sprinkles and a pretty good job she did, too.

We ended up with a few dozen sugar and gingerbread cookies, all of which she took home with her. I did promise that she could help me in a couple of weeks when it's time to make my mother's steamed Christmas pudding.

She and her brother love this traditional dessert almost as much as their father did. He was a crafty one, coming to me at the beginning of November every year, a solemn look on his face. "I'm worried that you may have forgotten how to make it," he would say. "So I think you should practice by making one now. We're all willing to be your test subjects. After all, you wouldn't want to serve a flawed pudding to guests."

After such a creative plea, of course I had to make an extra dessert ahead of Christmas. And yes, it did get a two-thumbs-up.

Keeping in mind Emma's complaint—that I don't let her do as much—I think I'll get her to grate the carrots and potatoes for the pudding. She won't mind doing the work, she never does when we're baking. She's just a typical 11 year old, anxious to get to the part where she gets to eat her creations.

Of course, in the case of the sugar cookies, Emma can see no reason to wait for the whole baking/decorating process. She spent a good deal of time begging for little bits of raw cookie dough to eat.

That, I've been informed by the child in question, she gets from her mother's side of the family.

With the permission of the parents, I have posted a family photo on my blog. This was taken last month when we went out to celebrate the November birthdays [they have them the same day] of my beloved and our second daughter. This, of course, is only half of my family. My son and his brood live in another city. I'll try to nab a pic of all of us with them on Christmas Eve. My Wednesday's Words blog url is http://wednesdayswordsbymorgan.blogspot.com/.

Love,

Morgan

Brazen Seduction

by Morgan Ashbury

Available from Siren-Bookstrand

Wednesday's Words, by Morgan Ashbury

For many, the Christmas rush is on. There are trees to be purchased or cut down, decorations to be unpacked or upgraded, and gifts to be bought.

Do you send Christmas cards?

I'm only going to send a few this year. I'm really trying to tow the line on excess, and it's all because of a few blogs I've read recently—well those, and one of my local radio stations.

The station in question began playing Christmas music—all Christmas, all the time—about a month ago.

I was annoyed at first—not because I don't like Christmas music, I do. Mostly I was annoyed because they keep playing the same songs, or different versions of the same songs, over and over and over again. And the songs they play generally tend to be contemporary "Christmas" songs, not what I would call real Christmas songs at all.

I'm afraid that when it comes to Christmas, I am a purist. I refuse to say "Happy Holidays", or "Season's Greetings". I say, "Merry Christmas".

To my knowledge, no one I've ever said that to has ever been offended by it. I don't go out of my way to preach to others. I tend to keep my faith more or less private, unless I'm approached by someone who either wants to talk to me because they are curious about my faith; or because they think I need to be lectured as my faith is not the same as theirs.

Which brings me to the blogs. Basically, they were very well written rants (as even my blog can be from time to time). The gist of them was that Christmas has become far too commercialized in this day and age. It's no longer the holiday it once was and is, instead, nothing more than a tribute to rampant consumerism.

I can't really argue with the premise. It's true that everyone has a Christmas sale, even if they aren't in what one would normally consider a business associated with Christmas, or Christmas gift-giving. Everyone and his Uncle Harry seems to have an ad on the radio, television or, God save us, the Internet.

After just a couple of weeks, no one could blame anyone who was already sick of the holiday, and it's only the first week of December.

I have great news! It doesn't have to be that way.

All you have to do is turn the annoying device—whichever annoying device it is—off. What's more, just because marketing agencies and sales people have made December 25th a celebration of shopping doesn't mean that you have to as well.

Yes, I know, it's hard to buck the trend, and hard to listen to your kids beg for more and more and more, and not give in to them. But you know what? Giving them everything they want isn't necessarily doing them any favors at all.

In the end, it's up to my husband and I what kind of Christmas we have. It's our decision how we celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ.

I asked my daughter recently what her favorite memories of Christmas were. And do you know what? It wasn't any one toy she recalled, or the year she got two of a particularly wished for pricey item (one from Santa and one from her grandparents).

She says her fondest memories are of "Christmas morning breakfast" – an extravaganza of bacon, eggs, sausage, hash browns and pancakes, all served with two kinds of juice—a menu offered only once a year, and, just as rarely all of us sitting down together to eat it; and Christmas dinner, when we'd either go out to family or have family in.

Breaking bread with family and friends—and of course my mother's steamed Carrot Pudding—that was the tradition of Christmas in the Ashbury household that my children grew up with.

Those traditions haven't changed, and I guess that's one definition of `home'.

How gratifying it is that those memories that were made are the ones that have endured.

Love,

Morgan

Brazen Seduction

by Morgan Ashbury

Available from Siren-Bookstrand

Wednesday's Words, by Morgan Ashbury

Like most people, I get spam e-mail nearly every day, and that really isn't a problem, because, of course, `delete' is an option I exercise on a regular basis. But lately there have been some e-mails that have just made me shake my head in wonder – and not the good kind of wonder, either.

In the subject line, these e-mails read: "Secretly watch your kids, your spouse, your boyfriend or girlfriend..."

Seriously? Is this what our society has devolved into? Are we all a bunch of frightened, paranoid, voyeurs, spying on our loved ones?

Those spam mails are designed to sell a product, and it occurs to me they must work some of the time as they keep coming. I doubt even the most optimistic entrepreneur would continue to incur the expense and trouble of creating and sending them if they didn't.

Because I'm curious, I checked out the link to a web site that was contained in one of these missives.

Now, here I'll digress for just a moment. When I was a kid, I wanted to be a secret agent. My favorite program on TV was "Man From U.N.C.L.E." (yes, I still remember it stands for United Network Command for Law Enforcement.) For Christmas when I turned 11 my big brother got me the Multi-Pistol 09, which had a bazooka that took caps, and a derringer that fit in the handle, to name the two features I remember off the top of my head. I googled it, by the way, and there's actually a you-tube video on that gun!

I mention this bit of trivia that in all likelihood you couldn't care less about because, when I went to the web site promoted by this spam mail, I felt the ghost of that old career ambition tremble with excitement.

Did you know you can get a car key chain with a built in hidden video recorder/camera? Or, shades of Dick Tracy, a waterproof DVR spy camera watch?

I had no idea that lack of trust in our modern society had spawned such an in-depth technological industry!

This web site offered video baby monitors, and I think that's a wonderful idea. I can also understand having the odd hidden camera if you have outside contractors coming into your house to do work.

Not sure I go for the rest of the concept, which basically is (in my words) violate the trust of your loved ones by spying on them to see what they're doing when you're not there.

Would you do it, if you could? Would you spy on your spouse, or family members, to see what they were up to?

I understand the temptation to peek in on your kids—not just the babies but the older ones; perhaps of all the personal relationships mentioned, this is the one that's different, simply because it does involve our children.

I can understand those parents who may search through their kids' drawers, motivated by fear: they're afraid their kids are using drugs or are sexually active, or may even be concerned their children are stealing.

We've all seen horrific cases in the past couple of decades of kids who've become violent, and committed crimes. When the police searched, it was to discover these kids had weapons in their rooms, and we all wondered, "Where were the parents?"

You want to trust your children, but they are children, not yet in full possession of the ability to make good decisions. Too, as the parent you're responsible for them. If your minor child, for example, commits a crime that demands reparations be paid, you the parent can be held financially responsible for those reparations.

So I get that, in a way. Do I think that kids have a right to privacy? Yes, but not the full slate of privacy that adults enjoy.

But I don't understand why anyone would want to spy on someone they've supposedly got a relationship with—a wife, a husband, or a lover.

Because trust is definitely a two way street, and when you spy on your loved one, then you've already broken that trust.

And in my book? You've broken it beyond all repair.

Love,

Morgan

Brazen Seduction

by Morgan Ashbury

Available from Siren-Bookstrand

Wednesday's Words, by Morgan Ashbury

Someone once told me that the secret to achieving real, long lasting happiness was to live life with an attitude of gratitude.

Those were very wise words, and quite possibly the best advice I've ever received.

The truth is that every single one of us—no matter who we are, where we're from, and no matter what life is throwing at us at any given moment—we all have things to be grateful for.

I know it can be hard to focus on the positives in our lives. I've had my share of hard times and tragedy. I've met grief and despair, desolation and want. But everyone has hard times and tragedies, because that really is the nature of life.

Bad things happen to everybody from time to time. But those bad things don't come to stay, they come to pass. The difference between living with contentment and wallowing in discontent really is just attitude.

Sometimes, people feel powerless. There are things that happen to us, or that occur in our world that are completely outside of our control. Be we each of us have an amazing power within our grasp. We really do have the power to make lemonade out of lemons, to get up off the ground after we've been kicked down, and to smile in the face of failure.

We all have that power, and to exercise that power, all we have to do is choose to do so.

My American friends are about to celebrate their Thanksgiving, and that is a holiday that, as far I know, is only celebrated here in North America. We had ours in Canada last month, and our traditions are similar to yours, and stem from the same root.

We do have a lot to be thankful for here, in our two countries. Is life perfect? Heck, no. But seriously, neither are we.

I have a great life! I get to get up every morning and spend my time doing what I love most in the world to do. I get to create characters, and stories that many of you read, and some have even written to say you love. And, I get paid for it! How wonderful is that?

Because of this life and this career I have met a ton of amazing people, and I have the most awesome bffs in the world. Ladies, you know who you are. I love you with all my heart.

I am blessed, and highly favoured.

Someone I know said to me, not that long ago, that I was lucky to have my writing. And to a certain extent, that's true. But nobody handed my career to me. Certainly, what talent I have is a gift from God. But making the talent grow and getting published, while luck did play a role, is primarily the outcome of a decision I made.

I chose to be an author, to do the work and to work hard. I came out of the hospital after a triple by-pass, barely able to move, with no job, and fewer prospects. I didn't have a really good recovery. It took me nearly three years to get to where I was almost 100 per cent. I'm sure that no one would have blamed me if I'd thrown up my hands and said, "ok, life, you win. I quit."

Well, no one but me...and the Lord.

I give thanks every single day for the blessings I've been given. And yes, by the way, that is the secret to achieving real, long lasting happiness.

May your Thanksgiving be full and rich, and may you be blessed to share it with the ones you love.

Love,

Morgan

Brazen Seduction

by Morgan Ashbury

Available from Siren-Bookstrand