Denise's Devious Musings

A what?

denise@denisemcclain.com — 2009-11-09T18:50:39-07:00

Last week, I received a phone call from my youngest brother. He's 15 years younger than me. I hadn't heard from him in several months. Oh, I tried to call him but often he doesn't return the call or his voice mail is full and I'm unable to leave a message.

So I wasn't sure what provoked the call. At first I thought he was thinking of driving up north and needed a stopover point at my house, something he's done before. Then, I thought for sure he needed something and was going to ask me for a favor. But I wasn't prepared for what he would say next.

"So, sis, I have your birthday present for next year." Umm, my birthday? My birthday isn't until next July, but I let him continue.

"Well, yeah, it's not really for you but it's around your birthday." A pause. Some static. I could tell he was driving. "We're gonna have a big…" More static and breaking up.

Confused, I said, "A big what?" My heart ratcheted. I just knew he was going to say a big wedding.

"No, not a big. A BABY!"

What.
Did.
You.
Say?

My baby brother is having a baby! Babies can't have babies! He's still in diapers, he's still dressing up and playing with stuffed animals! How in the world can he be having a baby? Or rather, his girlfriend. He's too young to be a father!

Oh, wait.

He's 24. I guess not so young after all.

I'm going to be an aunt! Wow. It was one of those moments that will set the stage for a life defining experience. A baby.

Me: "So, are you scared?"

Him: "That's putting it lightly."

Me: "Nothing like having a child to make you grow up."

Him: "You got that right!"

He and his girlfriend can't decide if they're going to get married yet. He didn't ask my advice and so I opted not to give it. They're now adults and they have to make their own decisions. After all, they're having a baby.

Brother Bruno

denise@denisemcclain.com — 2009-10-17T15:50:18-07:00

A couple weeks ago, I went to the profession ceremony of a friend of mine, Brother Bruno, who is a Benedictine monk. I was finally able to make a video of the photos from the weekend and wanted to share. It was an amazing experience, to be sure. The silence and solitude of being at an Abbey, 12 miles into a canyon down a dirt road... there are no words worthy of the experience. Here's the video:

Ch-ch-ch-changes

denise@denisemcclain.com — 2009-09-07T09:46:52-07:00

My website is a-changing! For those of you who have been here in the past, you may notice some changes today. They're subtle now but will become more pronounced as time goes on, as I'm thinking of ditching the program I'm currently using to create my website and simply go to a WordPress based site. Of course that takes time, and it's time that I'm trying desperately to find... if you find any, please send some my way.

So about those changes. For instance, my banner no long proclaims a tag line. It's not that I've given up writing. I'm just not sure of the genre I want to write. First I dabbled in paranormal romance. I came up with a great idea involving Greek mythology and how it turned into what many people know today as Vampire Lore. One day a friend suggested I read a very well known author's series that she'd just gotten into. I picked up one of her books and was completely floored to see such striking similarities between my worldbuilding and that of this story. I wanted to cry. Because, regardless that I'd been working on this story for over a year and the fact that I'd NEVER picked up this author's stories before, I knew there'd be speculation that I was copying her NYT bestselling series. I have a hard enough time thinking about going to my own booksignings, never mind publicity like that!

I then wrote a novella on a dare. An acquaintance of mine, with other publishing cohorts, was starting a small epublishing site for erotic romance. They were tired of some of the less than stellar book quality out there, not to mention the bad rap the subgenre as a whole was receiving. So, when they made their call for submissions, I wrote away, thinking I could pop off a story relatively easy.

While writing it I discovered I wasn't sure I wanted to write the completely graphic sex scenes erotic romance is known for. It didn't flow for me. It wasn't comfortable. There was a time when I read erotic romance with no compunction. But lately, many stories seem rather gratuitous, with sex by page three. Little character development, little redemption of their conflict, little plot. While reading, I began feeling less and less respect for the characters, and even the authors, which I'm sure is one of the reasons the acquaintances I mentioned above were looking to make a change for their wedge of the romance genre. Yeah, I finished the story and even submitted it under a pen name. I had some positive feedback that made me realize that I could be a published author. But I wasn't sure it was 'me'. So when, due to professional obligations and a lack of time, the authors/publishing professionals opted to not open their doors after all, I put the story away in a bottom drawer and decided to take a good hard look at my writing and what I wanted to be known for in my writing were I to be published.

So, that's why I no longer have a tag line on my banner.

The other thing you'll notice is that a lot of references to my reviewing have been abbreviated or disappeared altogether. After 2 1/2 years of reviewing, I've decided to take a break. It came in stages, really, and started out as time conflicts. First I stopped doing author notifications and editing for the website I review for. Then, after my new editor at the print publication I reviewed for decided to alter my review by changing the words around, which blatantly altered the meaning of my opinion paragraph, I decided to no longer review for them. Long story, really, but this editor did not apologize for her actions and even disagreed that her 'editing' had changed the meaning. But when acquaintances and friends sent me emails and called me to say they didn't know I liked books with this particular element and I said I DON'T usually like it but in this instance the book was still good, I knew I wasn't the only one who believed my review had been changed. My reputation was at stake. Who knows what I'd see when I next opened the publication. How would my reviews be changed next? So I opted to resign.

Many people think reviewing is glamorous. Most are not paid for the review, other than a copy of the story. Depending on the organization you do not have much of a choice of the books you're given to review. Some sites allow you to choose the story, but if it's a book you don't care for few will allow you to return the book. You pick it, you review it. So if you read a book that you didn't enjoy you then have to take another hour or longer of your time to create a review that isn't snarky while still trying to opine professionally. Don't even get me started on those review sites or reviewers whose reviews are constantly stellar. There's no way that every book is a great read. These reviewers have no credibility to me. I'd rather just read the back of the book than read a review that's all fluff and roses. To me, that's not only a huge disservice to the reader, it's also no help to the author who, if they're serious about their craft, need constructive and well worded critiques to perfect their stories in the future.

I've put in 2 1/2 good years of reviewing. The review site I'm affiliated with will continue to see me review, if possible. I was told I had to do at least one a month, but this past month I've not found anything I wanted to read that hasn't been selected by a fellow reviewer. It might come to the point that I'll have to cease doing even that and only review on my blog if I happen to read something that I just have to share. If that happens my reviewer nom de plume will disappear into the ether. Regardless, it's been a great journey. I've learned a lot about the publishing world and writing in general and met some fabulous writers. And for that, I'm eternally grateful.

At Summer's End

denise@denisemcclain.com — 2009-09-05T09:08:39-07:00

Is it just me or has the summer just flown by?

It's already Labor Day weekend. It was just Memorial Day! I've been here in Prescott for almost a year. I'm still thinking about moving out of state. It seems, however, that I've got a lot of options to think and pray about. I could still go to Alaska. Canada may also be an option, unexpectedly. I'm doing some serious discernment, combining my love of trees and mountains and (some) snow with practical aspects of job hunting (debt won't pay off itself) with other spiritual considerations that I'm not quite sure how to articulate right now on a blog. Yeah, go figure. I'm not sure how to write something. But I'll get there. Eventually.

As it is, no matter where I go I'll be needing to consolidate my belongings. I've gotten rid of about 15 boxes of books. I know. And I still have about 12 shelves of books LEFT. I've also rid myself of three carloads of things at Goodwill and I've just sold my massive U-shaped desk. I think I'll have a yard sale in about a month to rid myself of more things I have but don't need.

So, how did summer treat you?

32 Most Commonly Misused Words and Phrases

denise@denisemcclain.com — 2009-06-07T10:55:49-07:00

So, I was on Twitter today. Yeah, yeah, I know. Evil spawn, that thing. Anyway, someone posted a link to a blog about 32 Grammar Mistakes. This blog credited another blog and I thought, Why not?

I, too, am a Grammar-a-holic. It drives me insane when people get your/you're and to/two/too wrong. Could of instead of could have sets my teeth grinding. Don't get me started on punctuation. Wandering apostrophes and multiple exclamation points (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) cause me to auto-delete entire posts/emails, simply because I feel my blood pressure rising. (Email etiquette, right. Let me just say... nevermind, too long a topic.) I know, I know. I should have been an editor and writer. Wait, I already am.

Now, wait a minute. That's not to say I don't have lazy or exhausted days and make mistakes. But when it becomes the rule instead of the exception? Yeah, you know who you are! (Insert evil grin here with Wicked Witch cackling, "I'm going to get you, my pretty!)

So, here's the original post. Which ones are your pet peeves?

1.Accept/Except- Although these two words sound alike (they’re homophones), they have two completely different meanings. “Accept” means to willingly receive something (accept a present.) “Except” means to exclude something (I’ll take all of the books except the one with the red cover.)
2. Affect/Effect- The way you “affect” someone can have an “effect” on them. “Affect” is usually a verb and “Effect” is a noun.
3. Alright- If you use “alright,” go to the chalkboard and write “Alright is not a word” 100 times.
4. Capital/Capitol- “Capitol” generally refers to an official building. “Capital” can mean the city which serves as a seat of government or money or property owned by a company. “Capital” can also mean “punishable by death.”
5. Complement/Compliment- I often must compliment my wife on how her love for cooking perfectly complements my love for grocery shopping.
6. Comprise/Compose- The article I’m composing comprises 32 parts.
7. Could Of- Of the 32 mistakes on this list, this is the one that bothers me most. It’s “could have” not “could of.” When you hear people talking, they’re saying “could’ve.” Got it?
8. Desert/Dessert- A desert is a hot, dry patch of sand. Dessert, on the other hand, is the sweet, fatty substance you eat at the end of your meal.
9. Discreet/Discrete- We can break people into two discrete (separate) groups, the discreet (secretive) and indiscreet.
10. Emigrate/Immigrate- If I leave this country to move to Europe, the leaving is emigrating and the arriving is immigrating.
11. Elicit/Illicit- Some people post illicit things on message boards to elicit outrageous reactions from others.
12. Farther/Further- Farther is used for physical distance, whereas further means to a greater degree.
13. Fewer/Less- Use fewer when referring to something that can be counted one-by-one. Use less when it’s something that doesn’t lend itself to a simple numeric amount.
14. Flair/Flare- A flair is a talent, while a flare is a burst (of anger, fire, etc.)
15. i.e/e.g- I.e. is used to say “in other words.” E.g. is used in place of “for example.”
16. Inflammable- Don’t let the prefix confuse you, if something is inflammable it can catch on fire.
17. It’s/Its- It’s= it is. Its=a possessive pronoun meaning of it or belonging to. Whatever you do, please don’t use its’.
18. Imply/Infer- A reader infers what an author implies. In other words, when you imply something, you hint at it. When you infer something, you draw a conclusion based on clues.
19. Literally- If you say “His head literally exploded because he was so mad!” then we should see brains splattered on the ceiling.
20. Lose/Loose- If your pants are too loose you may lose them. That would be almost as embarrassing as misusing these two words.
21. Moral/Morale- Morals are something you want to teach your kids. If your team’s morale is low, you need to do something to boost their confidence.
22. Percent/Percentage- The word “percent” should only be used when a specific number is given. “Percentage” is more of a general term.
23. Stationary/Stationery- You are stationary when you aren’t moving. Stationery is something you write on.
24. Then/Than- “Then” is another word for “after.” Incidentally, the word “then” makes for boring writing. “Than” is a comparative word (e.g. I am smarter than you).
25. There/Their/They’re- There are few things as frustrating as when I look at my students’ writing and they’re misusing these words in their writing.
26. Unique- Something can’t be “kind of unique” or even “very unique.” It’s either one-of-a-kind or it isn’t. There is no in between when it comes to unique.
27. Your/You’re- If I had a nickel for every time I saw this one… yeah, you know the rest. “Your” shows ownership and you’re is a contraction meaning “you are.” Get it right.
28. To/Too/Two- Two is a number. “To” is used in instances such as, “I am going to the store.” If you are supposed to use the word “too,” try inserting the word “extra” or “also.” If one of those fits, you need to also add the extra “o” to make “too.”
29. Lie/Lay- After you lay the books on the table, go lie down on the couch.
30. Sit/Set- Set your drink on the table and sit in your chair. Got it?
31. Whose/Who’s- Whose is the possessive form of who. Who’s is a contraction meaning “who is.”
32. Allude/Elude- When someone alludes to something in conversation (indirectly references), if you aren’t paying attention the meaning may elude you (escape you).

Original post: http://helptutorservices.com/blog/the-32-most-commonly-misused-words-and-phrases/

Slim Down Sunday/Sunday

denise@denisemcclain.com — 2009-05-31T09:50:23-07:00

Well, the weekend is almost over. I've been so busy! I've gardened, cleaned house and have been attempting to finish my short story/novella, all the while I've been reading WIPs for two friends and reading four other novels for review. Phew! It's a wonder I ever get any writing done!

It's been a crazy two weeks, as a matter of fact. From PMSing to simply not having the time or energy to cook, I've sabotaged my slim down efforts several times. BUT, I've still managed to lose 6 lbs in 2 weeks. YAY! I've opted to do something that could only be called a derivative of the South Beach Diet.

Most carbs make me crave more carbs, which makes me overeat, and so on. Protein and veggies have really helped me to look at food as fuel and start living the adage "Eat to live, NOT live to eat."

This week I'm adding in more exercise to the mix. So I may see a more rapid weight loss. Either way, I'm on the road to a better me. Cheers!

Slim Down Saturday/Sunday

denise@denisemcclain.com — 2009-05-16T21:14:03-07:00

Slim Down Saturday
So, I am where most women (and dare I say, most Americans) are, have been, or will be at least once in their lives.
Sure, I can quote statistics on how 60% of Americans are overweight or perhaps I could be like the article or blog that blames the weight of the Western world on issues like fast food or modern conveniences such as over 500 TV channels to watch vs. going outside and playing sports or other outdoor activities. I could blame our problems on other modern conveniences like elevators and escalators in buildings or even cars to take us two blocks instead of walking. Perhaps I could even place the onus on the internet and cell phones which keep us in contact with loved ones who live nearby, so that we don’t have to leave our homes at all.

I could. But I won’t.

It really comes down to calories in, calories out. Now, I won’t belabor how some can eat an entire pizza and not gain a pound while others eat two Doritos and gain ten pounds.

Each individual is just that. An individual. That former person may also walk 40,000 steps in his job while the poor weight gainer has a desk job and abnormal body chemistry or genetics.

But let’s not go there. After all, if you’ve been blessed with bad eyes, you don’t bump into walls and bemoan your bad eyesight, do you? You get an eye exam and do something about it!

So here I am ruminating first and foremost about genetic. Immediate family members have various issues like high cholesterol, high blood pressure, obesity and diabetes.

So after seriously examining my genetics, I had to come to some hard and fast conclusions and make some decisions. Unless I change those things in my life that’s obvious in my parents’ lives, I too could be looking at the same future. If course, things being the way they are, there are no guarantees but…

So, stress: the proverbial king AND queen of all banes. How do I handle stress? Probably not very well. My shoulders tense, I clench my jaw, thereby getting headaches and my stomach becomes upset. Oh yeah. And I eat.

When I handle my stress constructively I do yoga, something that after two weeks of stress, I’ve decided to go back to, because my recent stress levels are off the charts. Some is from my Mac crashing (see previous posts), but that’s only part of my concerns. More on those in later posts.

I loathe exercise machines. I do them for a while, then want to toss them out the window. Exercise: the one thing I really enjoy is tae bo and have a few DVDs of various routines. I used to do them at a karate studio. Now I can do them at home. I also recently bought Hip Hop Abs. I haven’t quite gotten into this routine yet.

Time to make these things a part of my life again, eh?

In subsequent Slim Down posts, I’ll write about exercise, nutrition tips, stress relievers and of course, my progress. Wish me luck!

Is there a Durany in the house?

denise@denisemcclain.com — 2009-05-01T07:27:33-07:00

Do Do Do Do Do Do Do Do Do Do Do Do Do Do Do

I confess. I couldn’t help it. I was humming along to Hungry Like The Wolf. Any Gen Xers out there are sure to start singing along too. You know you want to just do it. I won’t tell.

1982 was a crazy year. I was just learning what hormones were and this fabulous new band was emerging and taking the world by storm. Their very name elicited screams, sighs and a whole lotta singing. Duran Duran.

In touch with the ground
I’m on the hunt I’m after you
Scent and a sound, I’m lost and I’m found
And I’m hungry like the wolf.

In the ensuing years, I was the Durany. Like a persona. I became someone else: posters all over every wall and ceiling space, music waking me in the morning and putting me to sleep at night. I wrote a type of fan fic. Before it was even popular and when I was old enough to drive, I even christened my sports car with a license plate: Durany. Said persona was complete. To my pubescent mind, surely there was NO ONE as big a fan as me.

I went to my first concert in 1984. Yes, ladies, the Seven and the Ragged Tiger Tour. It was, in a word, sublime. Even if my seat was in the nosebleed section.

Three years later I was a little luckier and a little more prepared. I knew a guy who owned a limo company (who I dated briefly and discovered later he was married, the jerk) and it just so happened that he had the Duran account for when the Wild Boys were in town. I wheedled and pled and scored the tail number for their chartered jet. What’s a girl to do with that info? Why, show up at the executive terminal at the airport, make now like my friends and I were someone, and be shown out onto the tarmac, of course!

Autographs all around, then to the concert front row seats, then back to the airport to take a pic with a very tired Simon and a promise to meet the boys in Denver.

Concert pics:

Me, friend Michelle, some guy (Simon le Bon), and friend Laura at the airport after the concert.

Denver started as a trip to visit a friend there, but since she couldn’t be around during the several days of Duran’s visit to her town, I managed to stay in a hotel downtown… right where the band was staying. I was able to spend snippets of two days with various members of the tour. Even though some of the pics might speak to a slightly different train of thought, the guys were nothing but gentlemanly. Dammit.

John Taylor et moi.

Nick Rhodes, looking cool. Notice the license plate in the background.

Shiver me timbers. Look at that awful 80s hair.

A party way too wild for words. Andy Hamilton, saxophonist extraordinaire! (Remember the RIO solo?)
Yes, that's Warren Cuccurullo, guitar player, in bed.

Sweet and sober. ~snicker~

I have a couple of pictures that didn't make it to the scanner and should they do so I'll add them at a later date. They're pretty cool. Anyway...

Now, my enthusiasm for Duran Duran, and music in general, is a little less… enthusiastic. No posters, no frenzied calls to meet the band, no code names, and most of my previous mementos, including autographed tour books and albums and my license plate, is gone. Just a relaxed enjoyment of tunes. But what a time it was…

Going Grey

denise@denisemcclain.com — 2009-04-28T07:51:18-07:00

I got my first grey at 17 years old. Different theories fault genetics, poor nutrition or trauma. Regardless, for the first couple of years, I was able to pull the hairs. An old wives’ tale states that for each hair you pull, two more will take its place. Is that believable? Who’s to say? But by the age of 25-26, I was over 50% grey and actually had to start coloring my hair. I say ‘hah’ because our American culture shuns anything that might remotely connote being old, and let’s face it: grey hair means aged in almost every instance.

During the course of my almost seven-year marriage, my grey hair grew exponentially (I wonder what my body was trying to tell me?) My hair also grows prolifically— one to 1 ½ inches per month. Therefore, my newly colored hair looked nice for about, oh ten days. The rest of the month I’d spend my hair care time attempting to camouflage the growing roots. This also means I’ve had to recolor my hair every 3-5 weeks.

I’ve tried dark brown with red highlights, dark brownish-red with blonde highlights, and recently light reddish brown with profuse blonde highlights, all in a feverish attempt to make my grey not so noticeable. Let me reiterate the feverish and obsessive part.

A few months ago, I decided to go for the gusto and cut about 9 inches off my ends. Now I sport a ‘do that’s shorter than anything I’ve worn since the 5th grade. I thought if my curls were shorter and more layered I’d be able to hide the grey. It IS more effective but by the end of the month, it’s still noticeable.

About 2 months ago, I decided I’d had it. Seriously. The cost, the time, the maintenance was all just too annoying to continue this crazy merry-go-round.

Once I made my decision, many naysayers came out of the woodwork. It will make me look too old was the general consensus. Then I found pics of Emmylou Harris and others who were bucking the system in favor of going au naturel. And why shouldn’t we?

Who says that grey equates old? Hell, I’ve seen eighty-year-old women who refuse to leave the house with 3 pounds of makeup and their bright red hair perfectly coiffed. Sorry, Charlie, elderly is elderly. Grey hair is NOT a criterium.

So here I am, six weeks into the process. I see a stylist on 4/22 to do some cutting and maybe some more highlighting. We see what happens. The plan is to cut some now and then in a couple months, whatever ‘color’ is left over, cut that off. What’s the worst that can happen? I’ll hate it, decide it’s not what I want after all and opt to dye it once again? Maybe so. Right now, however, I’m enjoying the growth and prefer to think of my journey as the grand adventure on the road to authenticity. Stay tuned. I’ll soon be posting pics when it becomes more noticeable.

Until later…

The Not So Indestrucible Mac

denise@denisemcclain.com — 2009-04-27T21:36:03-07:00

So I was sitting at my MacBook Pro, doing pretty much nothing special.I had Word open as well as my Tweet Deck and Yahoo! IM. I had just opened Safari to look something up. I hadn't even gotten to a web page yet, when it froze. Weird. safari never freezes. So I hit Cntrl Option Esc (Mac's equivalent to Cntrl Alt Delete). But that little window that pops up, telling you what programs were running, never came up. I attempted to go to my Word document or an IM I was in. Nothing. Well hell. I'll just reboot it. Right?

Gray screen. And a clicky hard drive. The frakking thing was CLICKING! O. M. G. My MAC was DEAD! How is this even possible?

I let the computer cool down, hoping I too would cool down in the process. Highly unlikely that'd solve the problem, but hey. It's worth a shot. Later that night and the following day, it still sounded like a tap dancer was making merry under my keyboard. WTH? And I couldn't even drown down to hell, I mean Phoenix, to the Apple Store all weekend because I was on call at the hospital all weekend!

There is this mom and pop store up here that iss an authorized Apple repair store and since my Mac is still under Apple Care, this is where I needed to go. Monday it opened at 9am. I was there at 8:58. They said I'd get it by Wednesday. I received a call Tuesday night, and have been trying to reload everything from my external hard drive back on to the new system. There have been a few glitches, like the person at the shop putting a new name on my accounts (didn't capitalize the second 'c' in my last name) so it didn't recognize that it was one and the same name, pullled over all my personal information, but then locked the files and wouldn't let me see them because it wasn't reallly me. Alrighty then. So I had to do an info. dump off my new HD, because I now had too much information on the drive to allow me to pull everything over again. My address book disappeared and while I could get most of the information by syncing my iPhone onto my computer, I still had to manually add a few. I also found all my passwords, but some didn't save, for some reason, on my websites, so I had to go digging and even resetting a few that I couldn't remember. Note to self: create a locked file for all my passwords. Just in case.

I've also had to delete hundreds of emails, and resort them into various saved mailboxes, as well as resort my bookmarks into new folders. And the story I've been writing, although saved on my old hard drive was not backed up to my external HD since I'd been writing that day. However, I somehow managed to think it important to print all 60 pages of the story just before going to work Saturday morning. So while some info was lost, it was printed and just needs to be re-entered. Thank GOD it was saved, though.

The absolute worst part of it all is that my website program is somehow recognizing that's it's been open before, nor is it recognizing my key to unlock it... and wants $80 to do so. Rapists. I've got a ticket into their tech support and may not hear anything back before Monday... which delays all the new blogs I wrote. Dammit. I just hope I don't lose anything in the midst of all this. ~sighs~ I'd better start backing up my blogs in case they erase when I'm finally able to upload on to the site again.

Weird glitches but it could be worse. I really don't have time to do all this... which enforces one thing, and that one thing is what I wish to share today: back up all your information on a regular basis. My last back up was a week prior. I'll be doing that a little more frequuently, thank you very much. And back up your back ups. It may be redundant, but you may be thanking your lucky stars later that you did.

Addendum: I was able to download the correct version of the program. But it lost all my CSS code. So here I sit fixing the website program. It's taken five days to do so and I've finally fixed the program. And now I'm able to FINALLY hit that sweet little publish button. Let's see how it works...

16 Things About Me

denise@denisemcclain.com — 2009-02-17T09:30:59-07:00

Well, I wasn't exactly tagged, but a friend of mine sent me a link to her blog http://authordevongray.blogspot.com/ where she listed 16 things about herself. One is supposed to post 16 things and then tag 16 others. I did this last year, or something similar, so I think I'll just amuse myself and post what comes to mind now. Some things came to mind when reading Devon's blog.

1. While I can be very social with those I know, I'm uncomfortable in crowds, and large social gatherings. Actually I consider myself more eremitical than social butterfly.

2. I've been known to blush when put on the spot to answer anything in front of a group of people and often use humor to mask my embarrassment!

3. As a child, I won an award for being able to say the alphabet backwards.

4. Speaking of awards, when I was in junior high, at a city-wide competition, I was awarded the 4th place award of science students for the entire city.

5. In high school, I was the assistant editor of our newspaper, editor of the literary magazine, on the speech and debate team (even won awards in speech), and was business manager of the school yearbook.

6. I used to model in my late teens. Once in a store window a bratty kid decided to jump into the window to try to make me blink or laugh. (I have no idea why he chose me instead of my two fellow window models!) We had a small clock on the sill so we'd know when to change positions. When the three of us changed positions all at once, the little brat was so startled by my movement he started to cry.

7. I love the snow and the mountains, but am also very much at peace on a quiet beach, watching and listening to the waves.

8. I am a total gadget girl. I love my iPhone, iPod, Netbook, Macbook Pro, and eBookwise. I try very hard not to contemplate a world of living without these things although I DO have a desire to try. Which brings me to…

9. I have a goal to rid myself of debt, then drive across some of the Western states such as Colorado, Wyoming, Oregon, Washington and Alaska, hoping to one day settle in a small town or the outskirts of a larger town in a simple house with enough land for a vegetable garden and maybe chickens. Living off the fruit of my own labors thrills me to no end.

10. Like Devon, I too adore the Twilight series. Actually I love almost anything vampire. It feeds my dark side, no pun intended.

11. I am not a big fan of chocolate. I know that seems an oxymoron to be a woman and not prefer chocolate more than air, but what can I say?

12. I used to be very religious and even spent some time in a convent/monastery. For various reasons I didn't stay. I never made vows, but will always cherish my time and the experiences there.

13. I have an odd ability to remember old numbers, especially phone numbers. I've been known to answers someone's question of "I can't remember the phone number to…" Chances are, if I knew it at any given time and EVER had it memorized, I'll remember it now.

14. I once spent an entire weekend with Duran Duran in the late 80s, going to lunch with them, partying in their suites… oh boy, I'm revealing my age aren't I?

15. I've been creating stories in my head since I was 9 years old, helping to relieve the pain of having to move away from newly made friends every year. (No, I wasn't an Army brat, at least not past the age of 2.)

16. While I've written many stories, I've never sought publication. I don't know if I fear rejection or success more. My goal is to change that this year.

The Fragility of Life

denise@denisemcclain.com — 2009-01-06T04:16:45-07:00

For the past two months my stepdad has been having the worst of headaches. At first he thought they were just headaches. Then, he blamed them on his ever present allergies and sinuses, even though it’s not allergy season (although it seems to always be allergy season for him). He finally went to the doctor and was told he had high blood pressure. Again. He had blood pressure issues in the past, but apparently he thought those issues were a thing of the past because I received a call that he was now on blood pressure medication.

A short while later, his headaches were still in full force, as was his high blood pressure. Another trip to the doctor brought forth another prescription.

The weekend after Christmas, he drove up to visit me. I was so glad to see him, but he looked…worn. Thinking it was just stress from his impending divorce, I tried to dismiss it from my mind. However, when he returned to the Valley, he said he was just feeling too miserable to ignore it and he went to the Urgent Care. They told him they couldn’t assist him. He needed IV drugs, something they couldn’t provide (but that didn’t stop them from taking his money). For that, he needed to go to the ER.

I showed up a short while later. At first, after a head CT scan, they said he’d had a ‘double stroke’, one on each side of his brain. Not sure that’s what it was, they wanted to confirm with an MRI. That apparently showed it wasn’t stroke but instead it was vasculitis. All right, that’s better. I think. But no doubt about it, he was being admitted for more tests. Four days later and a slew of tests and little rest later, they ‘think’ it’s a migraine. They’re not sure if the headaches are causing the high blood pressure, or are the cause of it. So they’ve sent him home with a veritable pharmacy of two anti-hypertensive drugs, a couple of anti-cholesterol meds, and for good measure they gave him a couple of headache and pain drugs a couple of days later. He’s got an appointment with a neurologist and was told in the meantime was admonished to rest, exercise, and lower his stress level. Yeah. Sure. Get right on that.

This is a man who is not overweight, who normally has a good diet, normally works out (and would probably be doing so had he not injured his knee again). It terrified me to see him in that bed. And of course, he was sorry that I'd been bothered and had to go to the hospital to see him. He didn't want any one to know. I couldn't decide what scared me more...to see that he was in the hospital, or to know that something could have happened to him and I may not have known about it! Regardless, it just goes to show that some things are preventable and some aren’t. (I'm just glad I still have him in my life.) It also shows that we as humans are fragile and must view all life as we know it in this very moment as fleeting. As ethereal as a cloud, it’s here in all its robustness today… and with one swipe of the Eternal hand, it changes.

More snow!

denise@denisemcclain.com — 2009-01-03T13:46:53-07:00

Since moving up here, one of the events I've looked forward to was our first snow. The week before Christmas, I got my wish. On Christmas day I knew I had to drive across the state to spend time with family members and chose to take the long and winding road behind my house and across the state, passing through Jerome, Cottonwood, Camp Verde and then of course, down to Payson. I went through the middle of Mingus Mountain, and stopped with my puppy to play in the snow.

Christmas Day

Starting to Snow now!

What is it about snow that fascinates us so? There had to be at least 50 cars parked on the side of the road, content to play in the cold, white powder. The wind was insane, making the day a lot colder. Then, it started to snow in earnest and visibility was almost nil. I had to drive about 20-30 MPH until I passed I-17, then again, once I hit the beginning of the White Mountains.

Most of the roads were clear but there was one that wasn't. This goofy looking lowered truck with wide rims (I'm sure he thought he looked badass) that was driving north as I was driving south started sliding. His truck slid until it was perpendicular to the road and came at me in slow motion. He stopped about 2 feet from me. I'm sure he thought those ridiculous tires were perfect NOW! Still snowing, I continued south until I hit Payson where it continued to rain all day. I tried to leave early but late family members prevented my leaving until almost dusk. It took me 3 hours to drive to my mother's house. I could only imagine I wouldn't get home until approximately 8-9pm. I was right. The wind continued to howl the entire drive home. I passed three different incidents of trucks and cars in ditches with tow trucks already attempting to assist. Large clumps of snow were slung from the trees on the side of the road on to my windshield, scaring the puppy. But thankfully, after a long drive, we made it home safely. Even though the inclement weather provided less than optimal driving conditions, I really enjoyed the rare look at Mother Nature.

A couple of days later, in the snow... and my puppy.

Heart Attack Diner

denise@denisemcclain.com — 2008-12-31T19:41:11-07:00

Recently, a friend sent me a link to a news article reporting on a restaurant. This restaurant is only a few miles from where I used to live down in the Phoenix area. It's called the Heart Attack Grill, in Chandler, AZ. You read that right. All fries are fried in pure lard. The burgers are all greasy and are named after Cardiac Bypass surgery: the single bypass, the double bypass, the triple bypass and the quadruple bypass, a 4 patty hamburger that weighs in at a whopping 8,000 calories. EIGHT THOUSAND CALORIES! That's enough to feed a family of 4-6 people, depending on their activity levels and size.

At the all-you-can-eat fry bar, there are such concoctions as melted cheese and chili. Nothing that you wouldn't see at a Fuddruckers or some other burger joint, right? But at this place they are out to make a statement, so you will not find any diet drinks there (as if THAT would make a difference, were they to offer a Diet Coke). You won't even find a leaf of lettuce. Too healthy, they say.

During the video of this report, all pictures, with the exception of a child were morbidly obese. In fact, in one of the website's photos two males are sitting at the counter and have to sit half off the stool to avoid crowding the other. Male A has his left butt cheek, ham hock of a thigh and leg off the stool and Male B has his respective right side off the stool. Each are weighing in at no less than 400-500 lbs.

Each consumer/patient receives a wrist band proclaiming the size of his or her bypass. The owner is the 'doctor' who patrols his 'patients' . Patients are even wheeled out to their vehicles at meals' end. The waitresses, all skinny teenagers who are heavily made up, are the nurses. Hooters has nothing on these nursing uniforms however. Mini tops and white short shorts with hearts on the back pockets, with nursing hats and stethoscopes round out their costume(does the name of the diner have to do with the 'food' or because of the scantily clad girls?). So, it would seem this place not only fosters an attitude of gluttony and sloth, to quote the Bible... or the movie Se7en, your choice, but it also disparages women with the fostering of lust. Perhaps instead of the Heart Attack Grill, it should be called The Seven Deadly Sins Grill.

In this day and age, where my own job is to assist those who are ill, I can't help but shake my head. Here's another example of Western laziness and excessiveness where small minded people think it's 'fun' to eat this way, satisfying even, because ruining their health with these habits is just something that won't happen to them. These same people soon have issues like clogged arteries and yes, heart attacks... then run to their doctors demanding to be fixed. Perhaps I'm joining the ever increasing ranks of nurses and medical professionals who are becoming more jaded and less compassionate to those who deliberately ruin their bodies and demand that we do something to reverse or alleviate their suffering. It almost makes me want to shout, "you made your bed..."

It's bad enough that we have narcissistic appetites, demanding that we sate our hunger immediately with non-healthy fast food and quick heated dinners. It's bad enough that our society has so deteriorated that we are broken people with addictions to substances such as food in order to make ourselves feel better, but we now are celebrating that excess? What's next? A bar where they encourage the drunken binge? What the hell?

Perhaps this restaurant's concept was thought of during a night of beer and fun. Perhaps its founder thought, "I know, lets celebrate the fat person instead of the millions of other ideas and products that foster being thin." More than likely it was simply, "I'm tired of hearing everyone talk about diets and diet products. We're still one of the fattest, least physically fit nations in the world. Let's capitalize on that. After all, we're not going to alter our habits over night. We'll be able to sell our concept for years to come!" But in a country where weight has been a struggle for years, it almost seems like a spit in the face of those who at least make efforts to lose weight as well as those who are already slim, who keep their bodies well conditioned. Maybe it developed from frustrated dieting, and instead of consciously giving up, they just altered their path. After all, we all die, right? Might as well eat drink and be merry, for tomorrow we may die. In this case, some of us may go sooner than desired, sliding down the slippery slope of bad health from bad habits.

http://www.heartattackgrill.com/

Letter writing, a lost art.

denise@denisemcclain.com — 2008-12-30T19:39:21-07:00

Some of you may not recall this oldie but goody, but there used to be this invention called stationery. It came in all different shapes, sizes, thicknesses. If the user of said stationery was particularly clever, they'd add things like dried flowers, certain scents, maybe even a lipsticked kiss. This stationery was placed in an envelope and sent, via the USPS truck, across the miles to its recipient. It might be a letter sharing news, or perhaps communicating pen pal style. It might even be a love letter and sadly there were instances of 'Dear John'.

Then along came the ability to do the same thing, but via a computer. Programming geniuses devised ways to make the electronic message have a look to it that resembled stationery. Perhaps the color of the writing or the background would be different, or with a print. Soon, we were sending our letters that way. And with each successive year, people began to rely on this form of communication, with the way of the 'snail mail' letter going by the wayside. Nowadays, it's unusual to send Christmas or birthday cards through the postal service. Often we'll get them in our email inbox instead.

However, this email has developed (I refuse to say evolved, as it doesn't feel like much of an evolution) into sending funny pictures, cute jokes, inspirational stories, safety 'warnings' and other 'true' stories. In fact, we now have access to several web sites out there set to prove or disprove those pictures, stories and the like.

Today, more often than not, aside from the SPAM, my inbox is flooded with inane jokes and stories that I've not only received once, but quite frequently have received multiple times from various senders and asking to not be on their automatic list to forward these 'treasures' is met with everything from annoyance to outrage, that I shouldn't view these little pests as wonderful gifts. What makes them unwelcome in my eyes, however, is not only the flippant and mass-forwarded way they are sent, but the lack of regular communication which is conspicuously accompanying each and every email. My own emails are often met with a two word or one sentence response. Why do we no longer want to communicate with our family and friends? Is it fear? Or are we just too busy to make time for good, old fashioned letter writing and phone conversations?

Speaking of the phone, and in this case the cell phone, well don't even get me started on text messaging. I get mass-sent texts from friends, instead of a phone call... or a text question on my cell instead of calling and chancing a conversation or leaving a message on my voice mail, should I be unable to take the call. It's a sad state of affairs. I once read a saying that goes something like: Our calendars (PDAs, datebooks, Franklins, etc.) are like our bibles. We do what we believe in. Does this mean we no longer value that interpersonal connection?

Pretty soon, I suspect our verbal skills will atrophy altogether from lack of social use.

Don't get me wrong. The internet in general, and email in particular, has brought about many great opportunities. I've met many friends that I never would have done without email or the internet chat rooms or Yahoo! groups. I've spent hours in instant messages with friends across the country that wouldn't have been possible without this medium. It's just when it becomes the sole replacement to communication, especially with those nearby, that shows how out of touch we are becoming.

I wonder where this trend will take us in the future. And yet, as much as I enjoy the techno gadgets as much as the next girl, I still have the blooming desire to decrease my techno time allowing myself to become a little more primitive as the saying goes. Less time in front of the electronic gadget and more time for simpler pleasures like reading, writing, and spending time with those I love. I'm thinking I'll probably be going against the grain by doing so, but lately, if it wasn't for my book reviewing and writing, I can't imagine that I'd be online much at all.

Our first snow

denise@denisemcclain.com — 2008-12-17T21:54:17-07:00

Today it rained like crazy. In the early morning tomorrow it's supposed to drop to the low 20s and snow again. Here are two pictures of our first snowfall. They were taken from the top floor of the hospital. I'm going to try to take a pic tomorrow right around dusk when everyone in town is turning on their Christmas lights. I'll post that here too!

Thumb Butte

Bradshaw Mountains. Aren't they pretty?

Las Vegas Trip

denise@denisemcclain.com — 2008-12-04T20:02:44-07:00

A few months ago, I went to Las Vegas with my mother. As you've probably read, these last few months, prior to moving out of Phoenix, I was so busy, I have been unable to write, read… or blog. Now that I have a little more time to breathe I wanted to share my experience there.

I've stayed at several hotels in Las Vegas, from the Circus Circus (total and absolute dump), Paris (meh… really wasn't that great a place to stay), New York, New York (wasn't bad, it just wasn't all that memorable), and even the Bellagio (one of the best places to be on the Strip, in my opinion. Saying all that, I've never quite had the treatment we received while staying at the Rio.

Rio is not new to me. In fact, on the trip where we stayed at the Bellagio, we went to see a performance at the Rio held on a small stage with singers and dancers circulating on the ceiling above in metal cage-like contraptions. It wasn't bad, but I wasn't impressed. Neither was I impressed with the massage I received in the hotel spa. So when my mother and I flew to LV and she told me we were staying at the Rio, I really wasn't expecting all that much.

When we fist arrived, because my mother drops a pretty nickel on slots each time she goes to Vegas, we were able to check in at the VIP desk. When they discovered it was my birthday, our suite was upgraded to a suite that was, in all honesty, larger than some apartments. With a bedroom that is twice the size of my rather large master bedroom, an elongated bathroom that puts any others I've seen to shame and a living room/dining room that beats my own by a couple hundred feet, I was in awe.
Because of the shape of the hotel itself, our suite was curved. As such, the windows curve, offering a panorama of the Vegas skyline that is unrivaled anywhere else. The dining, living and bedroom windows curve and once all the drapes are opened, it is possible to see from downtown Vegas to well past the outlet center south of the Strip. Unreal.

While there for my weekend getaway, we saw Blue Man Group, a performance that was sometimes funny, sometimes awe inspiring, sometimes inane and/or gross and always loud. It was a fun way to spend the evening. I'm not sure I'd go back but it was worth my time to see it once.

The second evening we saw Bette Midler. She. Was. Amazing. There isn't much more to say than that. Funny, vulgar, politically incorrect, still has a great set of pipes, and looking incredibly fabulous. I wish to look like that when I get to be her age. If I look half as good, I'd be happy, actually.

All too soon my weekend was over. I wasn't sad to leave Vegas, because I can only tolerate the noise, the traffic, the tacky bling and the lights for so long, but I DID enjoy my stay there and dreaded returning to work. Here are some pictures of our suite and the view:
From the front door

Looking out onto the Strip:
HOT Tub!!

Oh, and another recipe!

APPLE-YAM BAKE

LG CAN YAMS, DRAINED/SLICED 2 APPLES, SLICED
1/2 C PACKED BROWN SUGAR 1 TSP CINNAMON
1/3 CUP PECAN HALVES 1/4 CUP MARGARINE
2 CUPS MINIATURE MARSHMALLOWS

COMBINE APPLES, BROWN SUGAR, CINNAMON, & PECANS IN 2 1/2 QT CASSEROLE DISH. ALTERNATE LAYERS OF YAMS AND APPLE- MIX. DOT WITH MARGARINE. BAKE AT 350 FOR 35-40 MIN. (COVERED). ADD MARSHMALLOWS TO TOP AND BROIL UNTIL TOP IS SLIGHTLY BROWNED. (JUST A FEW MINUTES) WATCH CAREFULLY, IT CAN BURN QUICKLY!!

Moonlight on DVD!

denise@denisemcclain.com — 2008-12-04T07:51:35-07:00

As you well know (or maybe you don't), Moonlight was a TV series on CBS last season. Even though it earned a People's Choice award, as well as garnered nothing short of a cult following, the series was cancelled after its abbreviated first season. Many thought it'd be picked up by another network, or the very least, by Sci-Fi or the CW since both are known for their paranormal or supernatural shows. Nope. It faded into the dust. But all is not lost! Look here! It will be sold on DVD at the end of January.

WHY are they waiting for January?? That, to me, is just insane. They could make much more money had they had the box set available for purchase before Christmas! Waiting until after the first of the year is the second decision they've made that's not only foolish and financially foolhardy, but outright stupid and inane.

But what do I know? I'm just one measly fan, right? I still refuse to watch CBS, though. Just on principle.

(Pre-order Moonlight at Barnes and Noble
or Amazon or Borders)

And here's another holiday recipe I used:
1 8oz box pasta macaroni
5 oz cubed of mozzerella
5 oz cubed of cheddar
5 oz of monterrey jack
1 quart room temp milk
4 T. butter
4 T. flour
salt, pepper, cayenne to taste

Cook pasta. While rinsing pasta, in a big pot, melt 4T butter and add 4T flour to make a rouge. Add 4 cups room temperature milk. After all is mixed together well, add pasta and cheese. Do not let the cheese melt in this process! Add salt, pepper, and/or cayenne. Pour into sprayed 13 X 9 pan. Top with a little paprika for color.
Bake uncovered on middle shelf at 350' for about an hour.

Eve of Darkness by S.J. Day

denise@denisemcclain.com — 2008-12-03T19:25:59-07:00

This book is not coming out until May 2009. The second book in the series is titled Eve of Destruction and the third book is Eve of Chaos, which will be published in June 2009 and July 2009, respectively. S.J. Day's official website is www.sjday.net.

When young and inexperienced seventeen-year-old Evangeline Hollis sees the dangerously sexy man astride his Harley, she knows she should run the other way. But like a moth to a flame, Eve cannot turn away. Accepting a ride on the man's bike, Eve finds in herself a courage that she never knew existed. And later, throwing caution to the wind, she gives herself to the man she only knows as Alec Cain.

A decade later, in a similarly magnetic situation, with a man that could pass as Alec's twin, Eve finds herself in a stairwell experiencing the ferocity of a rare, spontaneous sexual encounter. But instead of the relaxing satiety that she should feel after sex, she passes out, having been branded with the Mark of Cain by Alec's brother, Reed Abel.

In an instant, agnostic Eve's life is altered from mild-mannered businesswoman to strong, fast, kick-ass demon killer. It's a life that she doesn't quite believe and certainly doesn't want. She'd rather go back to her old life where her most exciting of days included watching Buffy reruns with the elderly woman down the hall from her condo, while slurping pasta. And now, not only is she quickly learning the ins and outs of the theocratic tiers—the heavenly AND hellish kind—she also realizes that her agnosticism is quickly becoming passé in this world where myth and fairy tales are reality.

Before sinking my teeth into erotic romance or before touching paranormals (childhood stories don't count), I loved books that were fights between good and evil. Granted, many stories have subtle battles between the good guy and the villain, but that's not what I mean. I particularly preferred apocalyptic thrillers that showcased angels, demons and spirits. At the time, however, there were few options in mainstream fiction. Should you wish to delve into eternal battles, it was necessary to read stories by authors like Frank Peretti and Ted Dekker. Fabulous authors, but they are nonetheless Christian writers that leave the reader with a clear conclusion that good will always prevail. (They are getting better, leaving conflicts dangling for conclusion at a later time, a premise that, to be honest, is much more to my liking.)

When I learned that S.J. Day was writing a series that spotlights demons, angels and God Himself, I was more than intrigued, I was entranced. I had to get me a copy! May 2009? Are you kidding me? I grew up with Sesame Street and McDonald's where narcissism rules. I didn't want to wait until May 2009! I wanted to read it NOW!

Finagling an advanced bound copy of Eve of Darkness, I was, understandably, in heaven. No pun intended. With the stress of my job, working many hours and several book reviews due, I didn't want to do what I did with many of the books I read: get five minutes in here and there. No, I wanted to get INTO the book, which could only occur when I actually had time to spare. Being the OCD person that I am (well, not quite… or if I am, I'm highly functional) once I discovered that I was able to move north of Phoenix, I packed rather quickly and was able to find a few hours to devour this story in one sitting.

I have to say, Eve of Darkness was all I expected it to be, and more. With a heroine that is unbelievably strong and intelligent (the term "kick-ass" just doesn't do her justice), two sinfully sexy men that are as old as time, literally, and non-stop action between the forces that simple humans cannot begin to fathom, it's a match made, um, err, that is to say…well it's a match made in heaven!

Can you just imagine that a lust-filled moment as a virgin teen with an intense and brooding Harley rider would literally alter your life, forever? Now imagine meeting his equally devastating brother years later, not knowing for certain that he is related to that man that walked out on you a decade earlier but believing to your very core that you want him more than your next breath. Picture a heated stairwell moment, mind blowing sex, being branded as one of God's own to work off your sins and realizing that although you haven't died, life as you know it is gone.

Now picture your new life as a demon hunter. Those you thought were mere mortals only days before, you know see as they really are: demons, angels and various otherworldly beings… those who aren't completely immortal, as they can be slain, but who aren't human either. It's enough to make my head spin. I can't imagine being up to the task, but Eve manages it with aplomb, with a fierce determination that makes me want to sit up and shriek, "I want to be like HER when I grow up!"

There's only one thing that I didn't like about Eve of Darkness: its ending, leaving me wondering what will happen next. I CANNOT believe the next book isn't due out until June 2009. That's over six MONTHS away! Thankfully the third installment will be released a mere month after that, but I'm so beyond impatient, I don't know what I'll do between now and then. This book has gotten me so excited that I can just tell that after I read the third book, I'll be in that empty, downward spiral that readers often get when their favorite series is completed. Is it too much to wish that there will be more of Eve than a mere three books? One can only hope. Or pray.

Thanksgiving Dinner

denise@denisemcclain.com — 2008-12-03T00:00:39-07:00

This year, my Thanksgiving was a little different. Because my mother and stepfather of 30 years are divorcing (more to come on that later), everything's been a bit of a jumble as we try to alter our habits and holidays. I was off on Thursday itself but had to return to work on Friday. Being the new kid on the block I have not acquired any PTO so was unable to take any additional days off (the same will hold true for Christmas). So… I opted to stay close to home for turkey day.

When I learned that my brothers would be going up to my mother's house on Thanksgiving and that they would be eating at a casino buffet, because my mother didn't want to cook dinner, I decided to act. I love to cook. Those who know me know I love to cook. I went into some books I'd compiled full of recipes that I'd collected over the years and chose, well, a ton of things to make. Then I'd decided that one of the reasons I'd taken this job was so I'd have more time to write. So, I decided to get all my Christmas baking and decorating out of the way as well, so that come December I'd have time to start writing again.

I will share what I've made, and then will be sharing a recipe (or two) a day on other blog entries for you to try as well.
So, I first made about 4 gallons of salsa. Yes, that's typed correctly. 4 gallons. I love salsa from Z'Tejas and have been making my own version of their salsa for a few years now. I have their official recipe and have changed it to meet my needs. I can the salsa and send them to friends and family.

For family and friends, I also make Christmas tins full of goodies. This year, I've made milk chocolate Turtles, dark chocolate Turtles, toffee, snickerdoodles (which are always a hit) and Christmas colors M&M cookies. I sometimes also make peanut brittle and other goodies, but this year I opted for a more simple route.

Of course, I made a turkey. Actually I made two. I wasn't sure how much would be eaten or how much everyone would take home and since I wanted some leftovers to make turkey salad and turkey rice soup, I opted to make two small turkeys. I made the first one a week ahead of time because they needed to defrost and I didn't have space in the fridge to do them both at the same time. The recipe is pretty easy. Once the bird is defrosted, it's rinsed, inside and out and placed in a bag. Of course, the neck and giblets are removed. I said this once and I'll say it again: what kind of country are we that we pull paper-wrapped body organs from a poor bird's ass to cook it!? Unreal.

I make a poultice of seasonings—basil, pepper, salt, oregano, sage, olive oil—and pull back the skin, sliding the seasonings inside. Then, I add to the inner cavity about 1 cup of diced onion, a stick of butter, and some vinegar before tying the bag. I also saw a recipe to use citrus so in one of the turkeys, instead of the vinegar, onion and butter, I used broth and slices of fresh fruit: lemons, oranges and apples. I cook the turkey at 200 for about 12 hours. They turn out so moist that way!

Some of the items I didn't make for all meals, but I made Havarti mashed potatoes, sausage and sage stuffing, skillet tomatoes, cheddar cornbread, oat knots, green beans and lemon, homemade mac and cheese, apple-yam bake, Z'Tejas' Ancho Chili Fudge Pie, orange tapioca salad, spinach artichoke dip, and of course, gravy. Like I said, recipes will follow.

I tried to get some of the steps out of the way early, like making the breads a day before, peeling the potatoes and leaving them in water overnight, dicing the onions and putting them in Ziplocs in the freezer until needed, etc. This truly took me greater than a week to get it all done.

Thursday was a pleasant day. My father and stepmother came over. They brought the wine and Mickey made us a fresh apple pie that was wonderful. Dinner went off without a hitch and after lounging on the sofa for a while after dinner, they left in the early evening, and I spent some time reading before heading to bed since I needed to work the next day.

After work on Friday, I was greeted by my stepdad at the house. We had some of the artichoke dip and then left to go see the new James Bond—Quantum of Solace. What a great action flic! I think Daniel Craig makes an excellent Bond, and I've seen all of the Bond movies, from Dr. No on… even the stupid ones that weren't all that official, like the first Casino Royale, and Never Say Never Again.

Afterwards we shared a bottle of wine (okay, I confess, it was more like two bottles!) then he stumbled to the guest room. Heh. The next morning we hung Christmas lights outside and I started baking again.

My granny, mother, two brothers and sister-in-law arrived in the early afternoon and we started day three of my Thanksgiving feast. We were so full by dinner's end that we couldn't possibly have any dessert, so we took a ride and I showed everyone the Prescott area. We finally returned home and shared some fudge pie, sweet potato pie that my mom brought as well as some other pumpkin and chocolate goodies. Finally while cleaning up the dishes and food, I begged everyone to take some of the food so I wouldn't have to toss any of it.

Everyone took off for home and I sat there on my sofa, fairly catatonic and completely exhausted, only to realize that it was only 7pm. I was so pleased though that everyone loved the food. Most of the things I'd made were first attempts, so I was really pushing my luck, hoping that everything turned out well. Adam thought it was one of the best Thanksgiving meals he'd ever had and called it gourmet. Everyone else really liked the dishes. I was just pleased to make a few things a little differently than every other year.

It was a great day, weather-wise. It was pretty cold, and unfortunately we didn't have any snow, but I was happy that we had such a beautiful day. Next year, if I make dinner, I'll have some great recipes to make again.

Orange Tapioca Salad

3 oz pkg orange jello 3 cups water
3 ½ oz pkg instant vanilla pudding 1/3 c tapioca beads
15oz can mandaring oranges 8oz can crushed pineapple
8 oz whipped topping

In sauce pan, bring 3 cups water to boil, then whisk in jello, dry pudding mix and the tapioca beads into that boiling water. Return to boil, stirring constantly, and boil for 1 minute. Remove from heat and cool completely. After totally cooled fold in fruit and whipped topping. Spoon into serving bowl, cover and refrigerate at least two hours.

Back in the Saddle

denise@denisemcclain.com — 2008-12-02T19:18:42-07:00

I can't believe how fast this year has flown by. It seems like only yesterday that I was settling in to my work-from-home assignment with UnitedHealthcare and now, here I am, living up north and back working where I never thought I'd be: the hospital.

Back in May, I received a promotion from my disease management position to a managerial position within another division doing prior authorization and denial letters. My position started out as a mere supervisor and editing letters that would be sent to members for denials to their request for dental, medical and/or pharmacy services. Then I realized that the scope of my job was much larger than I was hired for. After discussions with my upper management, I was offered the "promotion" of manager.

I write that rather tongue-in-cheek because while I was told my pay grade would increase (something I never saw on my HR file), my salary would not increase until after the beginning of the year. Right. That's what I thought too.

I was working 60-hour work weeks, often staying until the sun went down, then, working until the wee hours of the morning on my laptop at home. Exhausted beyond all hope, I was then told my mono had probably resurfaced and had to slow down or risk hospitalization. It became clear that I could slow down my hours, but needed to maintain the same workload. Um, okay. I'll get right on that.

It wasn't all that delightful with my director either. I'd quickly become very valuable to her and while she'd often tell me what a wonderful job I'd been doing, I would also be given many little projects, things her boss had given HER to do but because she wasn't proficient with the computer she'd dump it in my lap… then she'd go to her executive meetings and claim credit. It would not matter that I stayed late at night and/or working from home (something they could see based on when I was logged in to the system), but if I didn't come in early, I was 'late'. I tried to tell her that with all the hours I was putting in, for all intents and purposes, I was actually early. It went right over her head.

My frustration levels got to the point that I truly wanted to just call it quits. But I liked my job and thought I had a future there. Then they started laying off employees. These were director and manager level positions. Perhaps there WERE too many chiefs but one would think they'd do some reorganization, maybe with some demotions but instead they laid off many employees company-wide. I was afraid I was next. Combined with everything else I was going through, I opted to job search.

I received an offer from a competitor, basically doing the job my current director was doing, but it would require me to stay in Phoenix, one degree shy of hell in the summer. I've lived in AZ for most of my life. I truly didn't want to remain if I had the opportunity to find something else in cooler weather. After working as a travel nurse a few years back, I'd seen northern AZ for longer than just a brief visit and knew I wanted to live someplace with more weather than sun and heat and more sun and heat.

I interviewed with several companies and hospital in Colorado and northern AZ. I sold the Lexus, bought a Subaru Tribeca and then managed to put over 1000 miles on the car driving to interviews. I was offered 4 different positions, and after gauging location, amenities, weather and places to live, I opted to take a job in Prescott, working in the pre-op area one day a week and working on charts the other four, going over testing to make sure these patients were good surgical candidates. The job seems to have been created to avoid those last minute surgical cancellations due to some medical condition that may put the patient at surgical risk for complications.

Within a week of finding a job I managed to find a wonderful house with a decent back yard, a gas stove and fireplace and an amazing view of the mountains near by. I'm close to Sedona and Flagstaff and can actually see the San Francisco peaks from various areas of the town (which are now covered in snow!).

The job is great, it's 20 minutes in traffic from home, and it's only 40 hours a week, with rare weekend call. So far, it's a great job and I thank God each and every day that I've been able to move up to this wonderful area. I'll keep you posted!

The view from my backyard.

My father got married...

denise@denisemcclain.com — 2008-07-25T22:07:22-07:00

June 28, 2008 marked a very special occasion. My father married. Again.
His 4th wife died a few years ago from leukemia. God grant her peace. She was only 47.

Oh. That. Yeah. That's right. Mickey makes wife number 5. Let's hope in this case, 5th time's the charm.

What a beautiful wedding it was! I do have to admit, however, it started pretty casually. I received a phone call from my father one afternoon about a week before the said illustrious event. Hello, Dad.

He proceeds to tell me that he's getting married. Ummm, okay. Not too surprising. They had, after all, been dating for a while. Then he says, "We have to. I'm going to be a father."

Say WHAT?! Ohhhh, that's my father being pithy. Thank God.

So, I get this email invitation to the wedding with the warning at the bottom to please leave your weapons, gang colors and spurs at home.

~blink~ Um. Gotcha. Glock remains in the gun safe. Spurs stay hanging from the headboard and gang colors are left in the closet.

Reading the invitation, I see that the wedding is being held up north. There's a pre-wedding luncheon in a park. The wedding itself is being held in the chapel attached to the park. Then, the cake will be cut at the ramada back in the park. Finally, everyone is to adjourn to a country/western bar downtown. How's that for casual? This is a couple who cared nothing for convention but only care for their happiness and that of their friends. I love it.

So I show up, in a skirt, blouse and flat sandals. To me, it was incredibly casual. No hose, no jewelry. Just pretty basic. I felt like I was dressed for a White House event compared to the yards of denim and shorts on the entire contingent, including the bride and groom! I thought he was kidding when he said that they were all wearing jeans. ~grins~

I have to say, the ceremony was incredibly touching. They started off by dancing a favorite slow song and then a very giddy Mickey and my father exchanged vows. He looked so in love. Their very obvious affection for each other was palpable. But too soon it was done and we headed off to have cake and then left for the saloon.

Let me say this: I can't believe I actually went into a saloon. Here's the REAL trip... I actually did a little country dancing! Some alien entered my body. I swear it. But I really did enjoy myself and I loved watching Mickey and my father dancing all night long with each other and with every one else.

When I first showed up, I thought I'd be there an hour tops. I wound up staying there for 5 hours. Go figure. But I had a wonderful time, meeting all their friends and new step-siblings.

It's been a very long month, or I would have written earlier about this wonderful experience. But I'm here now...and now you're here, reading me. Tune in tomorrow. I'll be writing all weekend.

Tempt Me With Darkness by Shayla Black

denise@denisemcclain.com — 2008-07-24T08:43:01-07:00

Centuries ago, Marrok of Cadbury was one of King Arthur’s closest knights, until cursed by Morganna Le Fay for spurning her affections. Now he’s immortal and somehow, a small book in his possession called the Book of Doomsday can set him free, if only he could figure out how. Then he meets Olivia…

American art dealer Olivia Gray has come to England to open a gallery and to find the father she’s never known. After meeting a reclusive artist named Marrok, he kidnaps her, mistaking her for some woman named Morganna and demands she free him from the curse she bestowed on him…fifteen hundred years ago.

Thinking him insane she tries to placate him, then attempts seduction, hoping he’ll let her go. But after a night of mind-blowing pleasure, she’s not sure she wants to leave.

Marrok begins to doubt she’s actually Morganna, but still believes she’s the key to unlocking the Doomsday Diary. Olivia learns from some of magickind’s reluctant warriors, who call themselves the Doomsday Brethren, that she’s a descendent of Le Fay and will soon become a powerful witch herself.

Together they try to find a way to break Marrok’s curse, even though by doing so Olivia may lose the man she’s quickly learning to love.

Somberly, the Brethren reveal that an evil wizard is attempting world domination and believes the Diary, and Olivia, are the keys to his success. Marrok puts aside his own desires and focuses on training the wizards and keeping Olivia safe. Will the love these two are discovering, and the band of wizards who are more adept with magic than sword wielding, be enough to defeat the sorcerer intent on destroying the world —both human and magic—for good?

Shayla Black, thus far known for her scorching erotic romances, has now ventured into paranormal romance territory with the first novel in her new series The Doomsday Brethren, called Tempt Me With Darkness. Not surprisingly, Ms. Black has jumped into the genre with both feet creating an amazing world replete with magic, immortals, age-old battles between good and evil, and intense, passionate love. Vivid and gripping, this must-read hit by Ms. Black will take the paranormal world by storm.

Marrok presents as a fierce, ancient warrior whose greatest wish is only to break his curse and die. World weary, his distrust is understandable but when he shows his vulnerable side to Olivia, it’s enough to turn even the most cynical of hearts to warm jelly.

Seemingly naïve as first, Olivia shows her true colors as compassionate and resilient. Equally matched, this couple takes the human and magic world by storm, showing all they’ll not admit defeat to anyone, least of all a measly, powerful, depraved wizard.

Although clear this story is about the love between Olivia and Marrok, the reader cannot help but be enthralled by the rest of the magickind force that fills the pages. Each of the Brethren provokes the desire to know him in a much more intimate fashion. One can only hope each will get his own story. Brava, Ms. Black, for the start of what looks to be a phenomenal series! You can be sure I’ll be reading each and every one.

Wicked Hot by Charlene Teglia

denise@denisemcclain.com — 2008-07-22T21:48:04-07:00

The beautifully seductive Edana is a succubus cursed to wander the earth feeding off and cursing human souls. Having died after committing the mortal sin of murder, Edana now is under the power of the devil himself. The irony of her current status is that when she died, she was still a virgin, and now, she can’t seem to complete the deed without draining the human men in her way. Then she’s assigned to seduce Eli and Dal, two brothers with superhuman strength and her prospects start looking up. She just might experience an orgasm after all. That is, if she’s not slain first.

Eli the warrior and Dal the teacher are two Nephilim living a quiet existence in Washington. The Nephilim are ancient creatures born of angel fathers and human mothers. Thought to be extinct, they have lived under the demons’ radar. Until now. Because good and evil is rapidly losing its precarious balance, Eli has begun conjuring, binding and banishing demons into the void of nonexistence. Likewise, Dal has been teaching young witches the lost art of good magic.

Edana soon finds herself in the Nephilim household, sharing domestic duties and find her way into bed. With both of them. Sex with the brothers is cosmically blissful but in no time, she starts to experience another emotion, one wholly unfamiliar to her. Eli, with his Alpha strength and smoldering intensity, unwittingly sends the sexy succubus headlong into the arms of love.

Will she be able to complete her nefarious mission, or will she allow herself to trust the man who can free her from the curse that bound her many years ago?

Having read many of Ms. Teglia’s previous novels, it was a no-brainer to read Wicked Hot. However, after having read this book, it must be said that Wicked Hot isn’t as good as the rest of her stories. It’s better. In fact, I’ll go out on a limb here to say that this book has to be the best novel she’s written.

Engrossed from the first page, I didn’t let go until the last word was read. Kept on the edge of my seat, it was never quite apparent how this story would end until I read the words.

It’s always good writing to have a strong, Alpha hero and a feisty, intelligent heroine. Add realistic internal and external conflict, stir and bake. Eli and Edana are choice ingredients for this recipe of dark, edgy romance. Add in Dal and you have a story so hot, you need oven mitts to turn the pages. The characters were well developed, the story line fast paced, the passion intense and the sex absolutely nuclear. Forget the ice cubes, head straight to the Arctic Circle, and make sure you have a couple of hours blocked in your schedule. Once you pick up Wicked Hot and start reading, you won’t be doing anything else until you’ve finished.

I couldn't stop laughing!

denise@denisemcclain.com — 2008-06-24T21:23:31-07:00

I was browsing through some YouTube videos and came across this hilarious portrayal of writers and editors/agents. The worst part about it is that I was told by an author friend it isn't too far off base with some agents and/or editors. Tell me it isn't so!

Writer's Digest contest

denise@denisemcclain.com — 2008-04-05T16:13:54-07:00

As I was perusing through the latest edition of Writer's Digest, I came across the monthly contest. The directive was to write a short story and to use the following as inspiration: A character walks into a kitchen at the end of the day. He finds on the kitchen table something that isn't supposed to be there.

Here was my attempt:

As the late afternoon sun was setting, Lester sat atop his tractor, pulling the plow through one more row of field. He’d been working since daybreak, in preparation for the coming season. Stopping, he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, wiping the sweat from his brow. His stomach rumbled, indicating it was time to quit and head for home.
Just then, the bright red blur of a loud sports car sped past him on the small highway bordering the edge of his farm, thumping bass spilling from within.
Shaking his head, Lester eased the tractor onto the dirt path, raised the plow and slowly rode his tractor home. A simple man, he had no time for frivolities. He was a farmer, a vocation passed on for generations. Sometimes, he’d hire a body to help with the harvesting, but since his father was gone now and his mother was getting on in years, the work rested on his capable shoulders. He’d even opted not to marry, preferring the mistress that was his farm.
As Lester glanced back, a sense of satisfaction pervaded his senses. One of the last few farms around, he refused to sell his land to some fancy-pants investors. Not that they hadn’t tried. They were wily and seductive, but he just wouldn’t budge.
After securing the tractor inside the barn, Lester headed to the house a few yards away. The back door hung slightly ajar. Picking up pace, he rushed to the house.
“Ma?” He called out, stepping inside. Unsettled by the absolute silence within, he peered into the darkening living room. Nothing was out of place, momentarily subduing his growing unease.
Lester turned and strode to the kitchen, eager for dinner. He flipped on an overhead light and walked to the sink, pulling a glass from a nearby cupboard, filling it with cool tap water.
Turning, raising the glass for a drink, he gazed around the kitchen. The stovetop sat empty. The elements were dark in the oven, indicating that nothing baked within.
Puzzled, Lester realized the cleanliness of the countertops and sinks wasn’t uncommon. No, his mother was a fastidious housekeeper. But, considering the time, the kitchen was immaculate when pots should be on the stove bubbling with their contents, the scent of food wafting through the house.
“Ma?” He called out again. No response. He took a step back, his leg brushing the edge of a dining chair. Lester turned.
The table was simply set for the evening meal. On one plate standing perfectly on the handle’s end was a large knife, the blade covered in dark, congealing blood. A sense of doom pervaded his mind and he called out to his mother once more. “Ma!” Again, there was no response.
Looking at the knife, his head tilted sideways, attention fixed on a small, darkened mass at the tip. Bending at the waist, he peered more closely at the knife, identifying a clump of dark gray hair. Ma’s hair.
The water glass slipped from Lester’s fingers, the sound of splintering glass filling the room. His heart galloped. Grasping the edge of the table for support, he sucked in a breath, eyes widening. Straightening, legs wobbly, his mind reeled, still unable to fully comprehend the implications of the bloody knife before him. Who? What?
From somewhere within the house, a door creaked. A slow shuffling, out of place and certainly not his mother’s, crossed the floor at the end of the hall.
Step. Drag. Step. Drag.
What the…?
Hyperventilating, spots danced before his eyes. A fine sheen of cold sweat broke out across his forehead.
The television blared to life.
Lester cried out in surprise, jumping. Impossible! He was just in the living room. It had been decidedly empty.
Trying to shake off the foreboding thoughts and calm his racing heart, he reasoned that there must be a plausible explanation to the sounds and sight before him. Ready to go in search of his mother, he glanced down at the knife once again. Steeling himself, he took a small, shaky step.
The air left his lungs.
Blood drained from his face.
The lightest of breaths blew across his neck.
Lester slowly turned around. Utter terror gripped him. Ruby eyes, amidst the blackest of voids, stared into him. As darkness consumed him, his last panicked thoughts were of his mother’s life and anger that the satanic investors with the expensive suits would take his farm, after all.

The Politics of Dancing

denise@denisemcclain.com — 2008-03-04T22:35:10-07:00

'They' say there are two things you should never speak about in polite or professional company: religion and politics. This IS about politics, but only the beginning.

I'm not a political person. And yet...I truly believe that we Americans are witnessing a historical moment in time this year. So, I'm preparing myself. I want to learn as much as possible about our potential presidential candidates. I want to make the right choice when I cast my vote in November. (And unlike some theorists who claim the election's already been decided, I believe my vote counts.)

Voting used to be so much more black and white for me. I used to look at 1-2 issues and vote for the candidate who swung my way with those one or two issues. I know now that that was a very simplistic way of looking at things. "When I was a child, I used to think like a child..."

When on one candidate's site a couple of days ago, I came across their stance on healthcare. There was a place where I could make give my input about specific issues. So, I sat down, thought about it, and wrote. Here's what I had to say:

As a healthcare professional, I've seen the gamut. Lately let's just say I'm quickly reaching my tolerance threshold. I'm tired of the US, in essence, paying for the pharmaceutical's R&D for the rest of the world. Not only that, but I fervently believe that this industry keeps its patients on medications for either longer than necessary or unnecessarily prescribe the medications in the first place. We are a society way over-medicated. Think I'm wrong? Why then are so many people developing antibiotic-resistant infections? That's only one example of 'better living through pharmacology' gone bad.

Allopathic doctors, in general, prefer medications rather than a less drastic remedy. Instead of telling a parent to eliminate the sugars and caffeine they feed their child, perhaps mix in some behavior therapy, they're instead placed on meds for their 'ADD'-- a legitimate condition but it's become a catchall diagnosis for many children. Or instead of dealing with our problems head-on, let's place adults on anti-depression and anti-anxiety medications, meds that often exacerbate the problems rather than help.

Why the quick-draw to grab meds? Is it because doctors only have time to concentrate on one symptom, or aren't being educated to treat the patient as whole? Or is it because they believe their patients won't make the necessary lifestyle changes to alleviate the need for these chronic meds? More than likely, it's all of the above.

I'm tired of premiums going up but coverage going down. I'm aware of how premiums are computed: considering the increasing cost of care and also the issue of high-cost diabetes and heart disease--conditions that have modifiable risk factors which are ignored by a large contingent of patients. Some insurance woes would be alleviated if these citizens would take charge of their health. But until then, they're foisting their money-sucking conditions onto the rest of us. I know that. But while it's an industry that consumes more money than any other, it also makes more money than any other. Surely, someone intelligent within the upper echelons could find a solution to this mess?

What about those who either underinsured or not insured at all, you ask. Don't get me wrong. I absolutely understand the crisis of many Americans who have difficulties accessing insurance. This is a big issue; as are the difficulties of the medical staff who have only a short amount of time for each appointment in which to address chronic issues.

However you look at it, some of the fault lies within the medical community who's failed to properly educate its patients. I come across those patients every single day. These conditions are created by some insurance companies who will often reimburse physicians not based on what is done for the patient, but for how many patients are seen. If someone comes in with a newly diagnosed condition, many times their education is relegated to handing over a pamphlet or perhaps sending a medical assistant in to discuss a disease they're just not educated enough to discuss intelligently. Is it their fault? Or just another crack in the system?

I also come across patients who have no desire to change their current condition, oftentimes a condition that can be changed. Which brings me to my next concern.

I'm weary of speaking day in and day out to patients who refuse to take responsibility for largely modifiable healthcare issues. Granted, it's difficult to alter habits, I accept that. But these are the citizens who continue to smoke, refuse to exercise or take care of themselves, feast on high-fat, high-carb fast foods, are obese, have hypertension, high cholesterol, heart disease, diabetes and diabetic secondary issues. And opt to do nothing about it.

Weight gain can sneak up on you. I recognize that. I also recognize that some are overweight due to thyroid conditions. But let's be realistic. Thyroid conditions are the most rare of the causes of obesity. Primary causes include lack of exercise ('walking a lot at work' doesn't count!), lack of sleep and what we put into our mouths. Fast foods, high fat, high processed carbs and a diet high in sodas-diet or regular- are our culprits. It's why we are one of the most obese nations in the world and a paltry 11th in the world in longevity.

As we age, and our metabolism slows, it's easy to turn a blind eye to weight gain and wake up one day, wondering where it came from. And it’s easy, especially in our society today where we seem to work more to have less—less time for our families, less money to pay our bills. After working ten, twelve hour days, who wants to cook? It’s convenient to stop for carry-out on the way home from work. But we Americans are an unhealthy society, chomping down on convenience and fast foods every day in our harried lives, not realizing the mass amounts of calories we consume until it's 30, 40, 100 lbs too late. Studies from the NIH show that we're not consumers of food in the US, we're bingers. Did you know that a 64-oz Super Big Gulp at 7-11 has 800 calories! It'll take 4 non-stop hours of walking to work that off. American portions are several times the size of those in other countries. The largest order of fries in the UK has 160 less calories than the US 'biggie'. A typical 6 ounce muffin in the US is 2-3 times larger than those in French cafes.

Think of this: with our access to devices such as motorized scooters and cell phones that prevent us from walking, even next door or down the street, to discuss things with families, friends, and neighbors, we, and our children, prefer to text message, email, web surf, play video games and watch TV, rather than be active outside. Combine THAT with many school cafeterias' serving sugar sodas and brand name fast foods, is it any wonder that childhood obesity and diabetes has risen to epidemic proportions? Is it any wonder that chronic conditions are mainstays of American adults?

Part of this solution rests on the shoulders of the healthcare industry and medical professionals. But it also rests on our shoulders, and in the case of children, their parents'. But many don't want to alter their lifestyle. They'd prefer a pill, should it come to that, to becoming healthy. This in turn drains the system as a whole. And we all suffer.

There are disease management programs out there that are offered via healthcare insurance providers. Some employers are allowing this service for their insureds. Some employers are taking it one step further--higher premiums for those who smoke, higher premiums for those who don't actively participate in disease management programs. Some belligerently prefer the higher premiums. But, it's a start, for the few who grudgingly participate. An effort that’s a drop in the bucket compared to the ocean that is our healthcare issue.

I know what many of the problems are. I’m not quite sure how to fix them. There are, of course, many who only need education and a chance to change their lives. For others, all the education in the world won’t change their outlooks. But one thing’s for sure: something’s got to give. Otherwise the industry as we know it will shatter. Here’s hoping for a solution.

Who knew? My Shih Tzu loves coffee!

denise@denisemcclain.com — 2008-03-02T23:15:48-07:00

So, here I was, minding my own business, doing some reading for some book reviews. I was getting sleepy, so I made myself a cup of coffee from my new Senseo coffee maker. I was sitting on the sofa and leaned over to grab the coffee mug off the side table. My dog, who was sitting on the other side of the couch, came bounding over and as I was actually taking a sip, she put one paw on my chest and dipped her nose in the mug, taking a sip herself! I nearly spewed my coffee all over myself! :-D This is a dog who normally is very mild-mannered, and unless it's french fries or cheese, doesn't get all that excited about people food. Oh sure, she'll sniff the air, and wag her tail, hoping for a tidbit, but she's NEVER actually attempted to eat anything I've had in my hand, never mind trying to drink from the same cup! I of course, tried to get her to get down, so she scooted on to the ottoman, sitting on my legs and whined as I attempted to drink my coffee. (Hindsight makes me wonder why I didn't opt to dump the entire mug out. After all, she did just have her face in my drink. Must be left over from my days as an ER nurse, where eating food out of an emesis basin wasn't unusual. What? It was CLEAN!)

Apparently, she'd had enough waiting on my legs because when I set the cup down, she jumped on to my lap and attempted to lean over the arm of the sofa, reaching for the mug, trying not to actually place her front paws on the table. At this point I just started laughing. All shock had worn off and I was just dying. Tears were rolling down my face. I even had a cramp in my side. What a nut. I was terrified that she'd be up all night, bouncing off the walls, but thankfully when I announced it was time for bed, she ran for the bedroom, in typical Diva fashion. Pets. Just when you think they've become predictable...

And we're off...

denise@denisemcclain.com — 2008-02-24T03:23:12-07:00

I can't believe I've managed to set up my own website. I originally set up the website using iweb, a program that came with my Mac. It was a good way to get published, but I liken it to a website builder with training wheels. Do you remember riding a bike with training wheels? Remember how wobbly those extra wheels were? A little rickety as you'd totter back and forth? Yeah, this is iweb. Meant for .Mac publication, there were a lot of compatibility issues with FTP servers. So, I bit the bullet and here I am...an entire week later, and I've actually created my own site. I'm still tweaking where things will go, so check back often as I rearrange the furniture. ;)

What do you think of it so far? Background colors match the banner all right? Any broken links?

Let me know! I'd love to hear from you!

Voting and other broken things

denise@denisemcclain.com — 2008-02-05T00:41:00-07:00

Back in December I was Christmas shopping at the local mall. Well, I left the Border's and walked outside to the nearest mall entrance. As I walked by a nearby planter, the ground had sunk due to settling or something. And I, laden with many bags, went sprawling. I ripped my favorite pair of pants. And I ripped my skin from low thigh to upper calf. When I called Mall Security, they asked me what sort of shoes I was wearing. “Stripper heels! What difference does it make? A broken sidewalk is a broken sidewalk!”

Deep breath. For the next 6 weeks, I healed, and every time I would bend my knee, the skin would rip open and re-bleed. I didn't think much about my foot, which was a bit sore. Now, my knee is still a little discolored, but about 10 days ago, I was sleeping and woke to a miserable pain in my foot. Being the stubborn nurse that I am, I thought it'd go away.

Finally, yesterday, I went in to see my doc (one of the coolest guys I've met in a long time, btw) who said I either had A. a boxer's fracture (as in kickboxing; however, the reason I want my foot to heal is to get back to kickboxing. It wasn't the cause.) or B. a torn ligament or tendon. I was placed in a cast boot and am supposed to get an MRI. It's about $700 and I haven't met my insurance deductible yet, so it'd be all my expense. I don't know about you, but I can't afford $700. Tax refund or no, I'm not giving my refund to an MRI. Fuggedaboutit.

So, I'm opting to wear the boot for about 4-6 weeks and see how it feels. If it's still messed up, I'm off to the orthopedic doc and will ~sighs~ give in to the expense.

Today, gimp and all, I went to go vote. I am not a republican or democrat. Seriously. I vote across lines, if need be. But I went to the primary and had to vote within my registered parameters. I wait about 20 min in line and get to the front. Here's our new ID issue. You have to have a govt issued pic ID. And it has to match the address on their books. If it doesn't, then you have to provide another govt. issued something or other that has the correct address. In the case of my town water bill, it has to be within the last 90 days. No big. I pulled my latest water bill, my DL (and while it's correct in their system, on the card itself it's my last address), and my voter registration card which also has the correct address. I plunk my DL down on the desk and the lady finds my name. This lady is a trip. Mac, if she voted probably dealt with the same lady. Flaming red hair, in her late 60s to mid 70s and bright red lipstick coming off in chunks. Yup, that's about an accurate visual.

She says my DL doesn't have my correct address. I present my water bill and my voter reg, which both have the same address, and of course, which matches her book.

She says 'You HAVE to replace your driver's license in time for the general election.'

I say 'it has the correct information registered at the DMV.'

Red: 'It doesn't matter, it needs to be on the card itself.'

Eye brow raised, I reply: 'I fulfilled all your requirements, as stated on your web page.'

She, snapping at me: 'You'll have to go through all this again.'

Forehead crease, me: 'All what? I handed you my water bill. I can do that again, with an up to date bill when the time comes. I'm not standing in line for two hours at the DMV to get a new address printed on my DL. It's fine the way it is.' (Might I also insert here that my DL doesn't expire until 2030???? Yes, you read that right. I'll be 60 years old when it expires.)

Snippy redhead: 'That's YOUR prerogative. You need to sign the book before you get your ballot.'

Me, looking around for a pen on the desk, other than the one in her hand.

She of the false red hair, with one long equally-false red nail, taps the book impatiently: 'You need to sign the book HERE, now!'

Me, with a very aggravated, about-to-throttle-her look, talking very quietly, in a dead calm: 'I need a pen to do so.'

She SLAMS the pen in front of me so hard I thought it would break.

I sign the book, then lean down, both palms on cheap conference room table and lean in about 3 inches from her face: 'Are you always this rude?'

She rears back as if she's been slapped. Her mouth drops open as if all muscle control keeping it closed fled. She snaps it shut again, looks down at her book, then back up to me: 'No, I'm not.'

Lady behind her holds out a ballot: 'Ma'am would you like your ballot now?'

Lady behind me, in a LOUD New York infused voice: 'You'd think you could be a little nicer to a woman with a broken leg!'
Entire crowd erupts into laughter. Both ladies stand up, peer over desk at said cast-boot foot and I walk away.

They really need to screen these volunteers. At the very least, make sure they have their rabies shots before reporting for duty!

So, now, here I am with a glass of Nero D'Avola and a homemade salad with pine nuts, feta, romaine, cukes and red onions, topped with balsamic vinegar and olive oil, able to laugh now...but earlier? Wasn't so funny.

Have a great night, everyone. I'm off to watch HOUSE!

WICKED by Sasha White

denise@denisemcclain.com — 2008-01-24T17:20:00-07:00

Jaded divorce attorney Karl Dawson doesn’t believe in love, so when flirtatious Lara Fox does some computer network upgrading at his office, he figures he’s in for a good time. A sensual Dominant, Karl sees in feisty Lara a submissive challenge.

Lara Fox has been independent since a young teen, and likes it that way. She fun-loving, flirty, and loves to assert control, in a noncommittal sort of way. When she meets her roommate’s boss, Karl, she sees in him a challenge to good to pass up. Lara’s ready for nights of sensual pleasure, but when Karl informs her that he’s a Dominant, she’s not sure she’s ready to give up control. Willing to try anything one, she allows Karl to take control—and realizes it’s what she’s been missing in her life.

Afraid for what is beginning to look like commitment and love, neither is prepared for the direction their relationship is traveling. When a vandal starts targeting Lara, however, all bets are off and Karl’s protective nature reveals to Lara that this is more than just bedroom BDSM. Will these two submit to their blossoming relationship and will they admit to themselves and to each other that live might be real, after all?

Sasha White has another hit with WICKED. This book is a good representation of the some of the delightful aspects along the BDSM continuum. The characters are likeable and the plot smooth. At times, I wished for a little more internal conflict in the two main characters. But the sensual tension and sexual intimacy between Karl and Lara is hot enough to melt ice, even on the coldest day. Kudos to Ms. White for one WICKED ride.

Tagged!

denise@denisemcclain.com — 2008-01-16T09:20:00-07:00

This morning, I learned that I’d been tagged by my Wicked friend Shelley Bradley. Check out her blog here. My goal, should I choose to accept it, is to list 7 random facts about myself and then tag others. So, here goes nothing...

I absolutely love Z’Tejas. I love their margaritas, their queso, their VooDoo Tuna. You can’t go wrong with that place. Seriously. I have many recipes from when I worked there aeons ago, including a salsa recipe that I altered and make all the time.
If I could take an extended trip tomorrow, I’d want to go to either Colorado or Alaska, if it’s in the country. Outside of the States, I’d want to visit Italy. But seriously, it’d take well over a month to visit all the places I’d want to go.
If I’m at a party and drinking alcohol, you’re most likely to see me with a glass of Cabernet. I’ve been to Napa, did a lot of wine tasting and love the taste of red wines, but especially Napa or Sonoma Cabernet Sauvignon. I’ve never met an Australian red wine that I liked.
When I get stressed about something, I have a compulsion to clean or organize. Stress somehow galvanizes my inner Martha Stewart.
I don’t drink beer. Ever. Nasty stuff. Looks like horse pee.
My brothers are greater than a decade younger than me. I used to get comments when I was a teen, complimenting my children!
I used to be a rabid Durany. Not only did my license plate say Durany, but I met the band more than once. They actually remembered me from the previous meeting. Scary. I don’t know how to take that!

OK I have to tag some people now. Charli, Jennifer, Cathryn, Ann, Maura, Ali and Mimmi GO!

Ode to our Service Men and Women

denise@denisemcclain.com — 2007-11-23T18:22:00-07:00

One of the women on a writers' group I subscribe to sent us this poem. I'd heard it before, but wanted to give tribute to all the men and women who won't be home this holiday (and all those who've been away for any milestone moment, including a child's birth, a death, etc). These soldiers do so much for us, and we show such little gratitude. So, Army, Air Force, Marines, Navy. . .this is for you:

A Different Christmas Poem

The embers glowed softly, and in their dim light,
I gazed round the room and I cherished the sight.
My wife was asleep, her head on my chest,
My daughter beside me, angelic in rest.

Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white,
Transforming the yard to a winter delight.
The sparkling lights in the tree I believe,
Completed the magic that was Christmas Eve.

My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was deep,
Secure and surrounded by love I would sleep.
In perfect contentment, or so it would seem,
So I slumbered, perhaps I started to dream.

The sound wasn't loud, and it wasn't too near,
But I opened my eyes when it tickled my ear.
Perhaps just a cough, I didn't quite know, Then the
sure sound of footsteps outside in the snow.

My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear,
And I crept to the door just to see who was near.
Standing out in the cold and the dark of the night,
A lone figure stood, his face weary and tight.

A soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years old,
Perhaps a Marine, huddled here in the cold.
Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled,
Standing watch over me, and my wife and my child.

'What are you doing?' I asked without fear,
'Come in this moment, it's freezing out here!
Put down your pack, brush the snow from your sleeve,
You should be at home on a cold Christmas Eve!'

For barely a moment I saw his eyes shift,
Away from the cold and the snow blown in drifts..
To the window that danced with a warm fire's light
Then he sighed and he said 'Its really all right,

I'm out here by choice. I'm here every night.'
'It's my duty to stand at the front of the line,
That separates you from the darkest of times.
No one had to ask or beg or implore me,

I'm proud to stand here like my fathers before me.
My Gramps died at ' Pearl on a day in December,'
Then he sighed, 'That's a Christmas 'Gram always
remembers.'

My dad stood his watch in the jungles of ' Nam ',
And now it is my turn and so, here I am.
I've not seen my own son in more than a while,
But my wife sends me pictures, he's sure got her
smile.

Then he bent and he carefully pulled from his bag,
The red, white, and blue... an American flag.
I can live through the cold and the being alone,
Away from my family, my house and my home.

I can stand at my post through the rain and the
sleet,
I can sleep in a foxhole with little to eat.
I can carry the weight of killing another,
Or lay down my life with my sister and brother..

Who stand at the front against any and all,
To ensure for all time that this flag will not
fall.'
'So go back inside,' he said, 'harbor no fright,
Your family is waiting and I'll be all right.'

'But isn't there something I can do, at the least,
'Give you money,' I asked, 'or prepare you a feast?
It seems all too little for all that you've done,
For being away from your wife and your son.'

Then his eye welled a tear that held no regret,
'Just tell us you love us, and never forget.
To fight for our rights back at home while we're
gone,
To stand your own watch, no matter how long.

For when we come home, either standing or dead,
To know you remember we fought and we bled.
Is payment enough, and with that we will trust,
That we mattered to you as you mattered to us.'

Bravella Novella Contest

denise@denisemcclain.com — 2007-10-20T18:57:00-07:00

I know I haven’t written in a long time, but I have been incredibly busy. I’ve settled in to the new house and have received some of the equipment I’ll need to work from home. I can’t wait. I’m tired of commuting over an hour one way to get to work. Can you imagine what YOU would do with 10 extra hours in the day? I’ll be working out more, writing more.
Oh yes, speaking of writing. . . Last month I was ‘persuaded’ to enter the Brava Novella Contest, held by Kensington Brava. The first deadline was September 30th. You could turn in no more than 750 words. Of the approximately 400 entrants, there will be 20 finalists. Those finalists then have to enter the rest of their 30K word novella when the finalists are announced around November 15. Those finalists will have their entries read by Editorial Director Kate Duffy.
I entered ON September 30. So now I’m writing that novella. And this will be the last blog until I’m done. Come to think of it, what am I doing writing THIS one? Must go, will write later. . . .

Tragedy During Rush Hour

denise@denisemcclain.com — 2007-09-13T18:46:00-07:00

So, I was on my way to work on Wednesday. I heard the freeway was backed up so I decided to take a surface street. There goes a red light and I had to stop. I looked across the street to a commotion and noticed a woman lying in the road and another holding her neck. Several people were standing on the sidewalk just gaping.

I didn't think. I just whipped around the corner, parked my car in a bus stop, jumped out of the car and held up my hand like a New Yorker, screaming at the people whizzing by to stop their cars. Miraculously, they did.

I ran across the street and bent down to the woman, saying, 'I'm a nurse, I'm here to help you.' I attempted to ask the woman her name, but while she tracked my movements with her eyes, she didn't respond. Not knowing what her baseline was, I didn't know if she EVER could share her name, so I moved on. I scanned the area. A mangled bike was laying in the road. Apparently she'd been biking and had been hit by an oversized semi. I later learned that she was riding on the sidewalk, but for some reason had decided to go into what might be considered a bike lane right at that intersection (it could have been due to another bus stop on that side of the road and, with people there, rather than attempt to maneuver around them, she instead went into the street). She apparently hugged the curb but moved out a little too soon, and was clipped by the last axle of the trailer.

She was breathing shallowly, trying not to move. I felt for a pulse. Thready, fast and weak. I looked up at the other woman holding c-spine, so that in case she had a spinal injury she wouldn't paralyze herself by inadvertently moving. I started to get scared for this woman. The other woman said she was a nurse too. I wasn't sure what to do since I didn't have a kit. Someone had called 911. Help was on the way.

I felt for her respirations. I saw a bunch of abrasions on the right side of her body. I felt for broken ribs. It felt like they were all broken. I felt the ribs compress and crackle with each breath. I was more scared. At least one lung was useless. The 'snap-crackle-pop' I knew was subcutaneous air in the space outside her lungs putting pressure on her breathing. Her breathing was agonal. The breathing one gets as they're breathing their last. God, where WAS that damn fire department!

Her eyes stopped tracking my moves. Her vision looked like it was fading. . .

Sirens!

Police and fire showed up at the same time. I stated that I was a nurse. I was given an IV kit, but as I went to start an IV, I noticed her lips turning blue. I yelled at her, 'No no no no no!' She was giving up and I wasn't ready for her to give up! Damn it!

I threw down the IV supplies and grabbed some oxygen, put in an airway (with the help of the other nurse because the woman's jaws were clamping down) and started to breath for her with the mask. Leads were placed. CPR started. Drugs given. Shocks given. She was intubated, IV was started. Shocks and more drugs. PEA. CPR. Didn't matter. Come ON! Come back to us. Helicopter landed. She's gone. We dropped our hands. The code was called. Blanket was placed over her. Helicopter left. A life lost in the street.

I was high on adrenalin for over an over afterward, then I just crashed. I couldn't help it. I just crashed. I could barely keep my eyes open. And when I would close them, I could see her pretty blonde hair, her blue blue eyes, starting at me, scared, confused.

Miraculously, I went to work, put in almost a full day, then drove in rush hour home. I got home and noticed some of the keys were missing from my keychain. They must have fallen off at the scene. How did THAT happen? The next day I called several of the detectives and sergeants before finally getting a hold of the detective in charge who told me that he had my keys locked in evidence and would bring them to me the next day. Wow. I didn't have to come claim them? How amazingly nice of him. He would come to me. So, apparently he'll meet me at work tomorrow. And yet, I still can't get past those eyes, staring at me as life slipped away. . . .

Moving!

denise@denisemcclain.com — 2007-09-10T18:46:00-07:00

A few months ago, I had decided that I was not going to stay in the house I'd been renting. For one thing, it was way too big for just me and my dog. For another, I rented the house to avoid a lot of the grief I'd dealt with over the past year. I've been a home owner before. I didn't want to deal with home repairs, finding lawn maintenance crew etc. And this out of state owner wanted me to do most of the work myself. Uh, no. Time for me to find a smaller, cuter house. The house may have a kitchen with an island the size of Rhode Island and a spa in the backyard, but these pros didn't outweigh the cons.

I found a house about 3 miles away. It's more of a patio home with one shared wall. Actually that shared wall is part of the kitchen and garage. It's all tile floors except for the bedroom which has new carpet. Lots of planter shelves, and it was less expensive than the other house. Oh yea.

So the day of the move arrived. The movers showed up bright and early. They had everything on the truck within 90 minutes. Oh, well it helped that I was 'one of the most organized people they'd ever seen' (their quote) and had all of my boxes in the garage stacked by room, as well as the smaller pieces of furniture like file cabinets, end tables.

We drove the three miles to the new house, and within another 90 minutes the boxes and furniture was unloaded. I then went back to the other house to finish cleaning, mopping and shampooing the carpets. I'd done the two smaller bedrooms and my mother came down from her house to help me clean and shampoo the rest. After this, we were so wiped. I wanted to take off and eat lunch, but I had to wait for the cable guy. So mom left while I started unpacking. . .and unpacking. . .and unpacking. Over the next three days, I unpacked, organized, cleaned, decorated and set my house in order. I slept a couple hours then got up to do some more.

Sounds normal right? Well, I knew I had to do most of the unpacking on my own. I also knew that I would go crazy waiting for someone else to help me. So, I started doing some things on my own, like hanging my 70 pound mirror, and assembling my u-shaped desk. While putting the desk together, however, I managed to drop a piece, right on my laptop monitor. After swearing, crying and generally acting despondent, I remembered that I'd taken a rider out on this computer and it was fully insured. After being on the phone with the insurance company for 30 minutes, I was told that in 48 hours, I would have the money in my checking account to go buy a new computer.

I used to have an Apple Powerbook G4. I now have a Mac Book Pro. This thing, I think, makes coffee. It has a backlit keyboard, and this super drive that will, in essence, allow me to record my entire iTunes library on one disk. Have I shared how many audio books and songs I have on there? Anyway. . . .

I'm finally moved in. Pictures and curtains are hung. Boxes are empty and broken down. AND I have a new computer. Life could be much worse.

I won a trip to Enchantment Resort in Sedona!

denise@denisemcclain.com — 2007-08-13T18:49:00-07:00

Last year, as I was getting ready for work, I heard our local jazz radio station talking about giving away tickets to the Sedona Jazz on the Rocks. They were giving out their last set of tickets. They called out for ‘Denise McClain of Queen Creek’. OK. I haven’t lived in QC for at least 1 1/2 years. I can’t imagine there was another resident with my name, but hey, stranger things have happened. So I called in.
They asked me to verify my DOB, and then said that, yes, it was me they were talking about. Wow, concert tickets. I hadn’t won anything in a while, so this was a pleasant surprise. But I was cautioned to not come in to the radio station until at least Monday, when they’d be drawing their grand prize. What was it? A weekend getaway to The Enchantment Resort. OOOOK. The likelihood of that happening was slim. But, sure, I’ll wait. ~snort~ Fast forward to Monday, when lo! I got an email from the station mgr. stating that I did indeed win the grand prize drawing. You have GOT to be kidding!
I get to the station and have to sign a 1099! How much ARE these rooms anyway!? Fast forward again to last weekend. I finally ask my friend Deb to come with me to the resort. We both had Friday off and we head up there, with Diva in tow (that’s the puppy). We drop her off at the doggie hotel and head out of town into National Forest area, in Boynton Canyon were the resort was located. We crest the last turn leading into the canyon and there was the resort. It took my breath away. How can something like this be so beautiful? We had to give our name to the guard at the gate to even be let on property, and drove to the front desk area, where the notice of our arrival was called ahead. After checking in, we followed our bellman to the parking area just below our casita, where he then loaded our bags onto his cart and drove us to the room. Unreal. Our beautiful room even had a skylight in the bathroom to view all the stars. Since our casita was at the top of the property, we had an unimpeded view from our balcony AND the front door. The pictures on my picture page will show those views. I can’t believe I won this! It truly was the best views of Sedona I’d seen yet, and I’ve been going there for years! Nestled in the canyon, away from the tourist traffic and noise, pitch black at night where you can count all the stars. Unbelievable. A slice of heaven.
OJ and newspapers left on the doorstep every morning. Inspirational cards and plush robes left on our turned down beds in the evening, with filled ice buckets. It was unparalleled service.
Our first night included an exclusive invitation to Mii Amo (which means ‘one’s journey’ in a Native American dialect) Spa for a book signing by Perry Garfinkel, National Geographic journalist who wrote the book ‘Buddha or Bust’. Then we enjoyed a wine and cheese party. The spa itself is listed in several books as one of the top spas in the world. I can see why. From their immense array of services to the meditation ashram and medicine wheel garden, it really is a place to behold.
We spent our time on the grounds, as well as in town where we found fun books on the paranormal, crystals, clothes and amazing food, like Picazzo’s and the Cowboy Club, which had a filet mignon among the best I’ve ever tasted. We also went on a 3 hour hike to various vortex/rock sites, like Coffeepot, Cathedral rock, Thunder Mountain and Airport Mesa. Sunday came way too fast, and an exhausted Deb and Denise picked up the Diva and headed home. It was a journey I’ll not forget any time soon. I can’t wait to go back!

Lisa's Gift by Mackenzie McKade

denise@denisemcclain.com — 2007-04-24T18:50:00-07:00

(Click on the book cover to be directed to Mackenzie McKade's site.)

This was first entered on my Bebo page, but I love this book so much I wanted to enter it here as well. So, as mentioned in my other blog. . . Let me say that while my blogs very well may contain my own ramblings, they will, as the opportunity presents, also contain what I will call my ‘Keepers’. These are stories that I’ve read and have found their place on my Keeper Shelf. They are not good reads. They are not even great reads. They are FABULOUS reads, that I highly recommend. And ones that, like me, you’ll want to keep.

I belong to a Yahoo! group of writers, reviewers and readers. We chat about everything, from a good book we've read or reviewed, someone’s new release, the weather, the wording on the back of Fruit Loops boxes, whatever floats our boat at any given moment.

A couple of days ago, Mackenzie McKade announced that the ebook version of Lisa’s Gift was finally available. Let me first say that I REALLY didn’t have time to read this book! I have over 50 books (haven’t counted, recently, and to be honest, I shudder, just thinking about doing so!) in my TBR pile. I originally placed the email in my TBR mailbox, to tackle it another day. Then, a couple of authors and reviewers posted that they’d read their ARCs and LOVED it. Well, shit.

Out came the debit card, and on to the site I went. I purchased the book, and hit ‘download’, and went about my other business. On my screen, at the time, I had Word open as I was jotting down notes for a review I was doing and Adobe Reader as I was reading the book on the laptop (instead of on my eBookwise). I also had open Yahoo Messenger, (chatting with the ever lovely Jacki Frank), my internet browser, and my email program. Things were pretty busy on the computer.

DING! File’s done downloading, and it automatically opened. I saw the cover of Lisa’s Gift in all its glory. I’d seen the cover before as Mac had given us little snippets along the way. Then, I looked up at the top of the reader. ~blink~ 264 pages?! Ok, there’s NO way I was going read this puppy today. WAYYY too much to do. But. . . just a peak. That’s not, errr, harmful, is it?

Apparently not, because next thing I know, I was starting Chapter 6. And ALL those other projects sitting on my monitor remained there, untouched. As I continued to read the story, time passed without my knowledge. Night fell. I realized that I had been sitting at my table poring over the story, and hadn’t had lunch. I decided I was going to go out to dinner, get out of the house, since I’d been there all day. I stopped reading, took a shower, did my hair, put on my make-up, and went back to the laptop, before I left for dinner, to check my mail and check the hours of operation for the restaurant. BIG mistake.

That damn little Adobe Reader Icon was sitting in my dock, open, beckoning. So I clicked on it. And I read. . .and read. . .and finished the story. I haven’t read a story in one fell swoop like that in a LONG time.

So, what is this book about anyway? Well, it’s the story of two incredibly close Arizona friends, friends that couldn’t be closer if they were sisters. Due to a rough upbringing, the moment that Jana gets the chance to go to school in California, she takes it, even if it means leaving her best friend, Lisa, behind.

After receiving a job offer at graduation, she returns home. . .to see her best friend in a compromising position with Nicolas, the man she’s had a crush on since high school. Even more surprising is Lisa’s full acceptance and even invitation to Jana to join them, as a threesome. Jana can’t quite wrap her mind around the idea at first, but soon begins to open up.

Nicolas is sexy, intelligent, dominant and successful. He cares for Lisa, but is incredibly attracted to Jana. As Lisa and Nicolas begin to include Jana in their lives, and their bed, Nicolas begins to realize that he wants more from Jana than just play. The more he pushes, the more Jana backs away, not wanting to step between him and Lisa. It seems like a no-win situation. Can love conquer all?

When I first heard about this book, I have to say I wasn’t sure what to make of it. It involves some BDSM and an f/f/m ménage. I’m not a stranger of reading either one of those types of stories, don’t get me wrong. But, if you’ve ever read BDSM or ménage subgenres you know what I mean when I say that including those elements is always a risk to not make it read like printed porn.

Now that I’ve read LISA'S GIFT, all I can say is WOW. That book was packed full of emotion. The characters were all so likeable, even with their flaws and baggage. I actually think that’s what made them so endearing, because their past made them REAL. The plot was stimulating, drawing me in on several levels. I looked at all the elements, including the BDSM, the f/f/m ménage and f/f scenes and came to the conclusion that the book could be written in no other way. Leaving out even one scene would have some how altered the story in a way that would leave us, the readers, bereft, and unsure why.

LISA'S GIFT was such a spectacular read. I felt the tension in the growing attraction between Jana and Nicolas. I was overcome by Lisa’s love for her best friend, bringing her out of her shell. I laughed, I got angry, I was aroused, I cried, I felt empty. And when the book was done? I was sad to see it end. I wanted more. Thank you Mackenzie, for the unbelievable read. The rest of you? Sprint, don’t walk to the site, and buy it. You won’t be sorry you did.

LUSH by Sasha White

denise@denisemcclain.com — 2007-04-23T18:56:43-07:00

(Please click on the book cover to be redirected to Sasha White’s website.)
3 strong women. 3 Alpha men. Can it get any better?
This anthology by Sasha White is a scorcher, so break out the oven mitts and get to reading! In The Principles of Lust, Teal, overcome by the sensuality presented in a painting, her own passion motivates her to open an erotic art gallery. Nothing and no one will distract her from doing so. Not the pranksters who are trying to keep her from opening the gallery, not the hot carpenter she's hired to help her. . .well, maybe not. After all, Zack IS one hot Dom, and her libido is in overdrive with all the sexual 'reminders' all over her gallery.

This story made me laugh as it seemed the roles were reversed somewhat. She was the randy, ready for sex, skip the foreplay kind of woman and He was the one who wanted her to feel the connection, revel in her emotions. The intensity of their bond, his patience with her as she re-discovers her inner sensual energy is wonderful, making the story fairly hum.

The second story Passion Play is about Mia and Dominick, Teal's brother. Have you ever wished, in your own journey for a heart mate, you were able to just know who he/she was? Perhaps fate would bonk you over the head with him? This is what happens to this couple. Literally. Of course, Mia is not going to allow a man into her life, and she just walks away, even after a sizzling kiss. But don't you love Love at work? They meet again, and as it's said, 'there's no such thing as coincidences.'

There are many readers out there who don't care for stories in first person. However, this story is a bit unique as it weaves a tale of two, alternating between his and her points of view. Almost like a he said, she said and it takes you on an almost voyeuristic ride, peeking into their personal diaries, as they discover each other and themselves. You have to love the scene when Mia takes Dom to a family event. Most of us have family members who are too self-absorbed for their own good. This scene left me cheering. My favorite part of the story was when Mia realized that perhaps she did want to love and be loved. And the way Sasha tied this story into the first? Seamless transition.

The last story, Sexual Healing, I'll admit, is my favorite. While I'm not a massage therapist, Caitlyn and I share a lot of similar traits. I just love how she's so incredibly REAL and comfortable with herself. Caitlyn is Mia's best friend and soul sister. There's another seamless transition in novellas, as she's sent to Jack, a photographer to be the model for some of Mia's jewelry. Caitlyn doesn't need fate to intervene, she's intuitive enough to know that Jack is meant to be with her. Now, she just has to convince HIM, and heal his fragile heart in the process. Can she win him over? Will he realize she's what he needs? Did you REALLY think I'd share the ending with you!?