When I grow up

Tags

biking, creative outlet, lady-like, mud runs, romance writer, running

When I grow up I promise to be more lady-like. No more playing in the mud. No more running with the boys (literally speaking of course).  No more bicycle crashes that leave me bloody and scarred. No more playing outside when I should be working. Yup, when I grow up I’m going to be a responsible woman.

The image I see staring back at me each morning appears to indicate I am all grown up. A mature woman. Great family, wonderful friends, great job. All the signs I’m a grown up. Still, I’m having trouble with all those good intentions.

Like not playing in the mud…

Or not running with the boys…

Or not playing outside when I should be working…

Someday, I will be more lady-like…or maybe not.

Getting closer

Tags

half-sisters, Houdersheldt, search

In December of 2008, I learned that I have two half-sisters. Unfortunately, my biological father took all information about them to the grave. Not surprising he didn’t share that info with my brothers or me. It’s not like we were close. He walked out of our lives when I was pre-schooler. I spoke to him twice in the intervening years for a grand total of maybe 30 minutes–and that’s being generous. Not a lot time to share things like, “hey, want to know about your sisters?” Since his death and the revelation of the existence of the two sisters, I’ve been trying to find them. So far, no luck.

Saturday my cousin called from Texas. My aunt had lost her battle with breast cancer a week earlier and while they were packing up her home, they came across a birth announcement. It was the birth announcement for one of my sisters. A week ago, I only knew they existed. Now I have name: Jean Marie Houdersheldt.

Even with her name, I’ve gotten no closer to finding her, but somehow just knowing her name makes it seem more real.

Simple Pleasures

Tags

fireflies, washington dc

Here I am in Washington, D.C. one of the most interesting cities in this great country. I’m fortunate to be able to spend the week working here and soaking up the culture so different from the other Washington that I call home. With a hotel across the street from the Library of Congress, I’m in bibliophile heaven. At lunch I get to visit the Library of Congress, walk through the Supreme Court, visit the Smithsonian, and watch the beehive of activity at Congress. The weather is incredible and the opportunity to work at the Administrative Office, fantastic.

And yet it was tonight after eating dinner at a lovely small Ethopian restaurant and walking back with two fellow judiciary employees that I experienced the highlight of my trip…fireflies! As we meandered through the beautiful historic capitol hill neighborhoods, talking and sharing, I suddenly came to a dead stop.  Living in an area where fires are a concern come summertime, my first thought was spark! It took a moment for what my eyes were seeing to hit the brain. When it did, I started to laugh. My two companions looked at me as though I’d lost my mind. I had to explain that despite the fact I’m a long way from being kid anymore, I’d never seen fireflies. The pleasure of seeing those little flies sparking with light in the dusk of early evening as we walked along brick sidewalks lined with brownstone homes and old-growth trees is hard to describe. I smiled all the way back to my hotel. I wonder if I’ll dream of fireflies?

Sometimes it’s the simple pleasures that make all the difference.

A Year Gone By

A year ago today, my brother Steve lost his battle with cancer. I think of him often. Not of how he was that day when he let go of the pain and left this world, but rather of his dry sense of humor, his laughter, his funny out-of-the-blue telephone calls. Though he spent the last twenty years living 1800 miles away, he was always there.  Occasionally, he’d make a trip home and we’d visit and laugh. It always felt like we were kids again and that nothing had really changed. On holidays, he’d usually call Mom and we’d all get caught up.

It’s been a strange year. No telephone calls. No visits. No Steve. It’s still hard to wrap my head around the fact that I’ll never see him again, never hear his voice again. Still, the heart remembers. Tonight I rode my bicycle ten miles from my office to my home. It’s a wonderful ride through the gorgeous Riverside State Park. As I pedaled along, I thought of my brother. I remembered how one summer he worked a paper route just so he could buy himself a brand new Schwinn bicycle. It was a special bike, a hot item for kids his age. It was blue with monkey-bar handlebars and a banana seat. He was so very cool!

I hate that cancer took my brother’s life but I’m glad that he was in my life. I’m glad for the memories.

And it’s here!

Tags

lesbian, Romance, vampires

It’s official, Crimson Vengeance, was released on Monday, April 18th. I had such a great time writing the book and partly because it is unusual. I know, I know, vampires are everywhere these days but it’s more than just a vampire story. It’s also a romance. I know, I know, romances are everywhere. But, it’s more than just a traditional romance.

In this book, the main character is a five hundred year old lesbian vampire and one romance in the book is hers. There’s a second romance, a little more traditional, except he’s a vampire hunter and she’s a coroner. It was just a great story to weave and though it’s a bit different, I think you’ll like it. I hope so because I liked writing it.

Now, the work continues as the book number two is in the works with three and four to follow. Yes, the story of Riah Preston, five hundred year old lesbian vampire, will continue. I hope you come along for the journey.

Roots

Tags

eagles, fiction, mountains, Washington

I wasn’t born in Washington State but came here as a preschooler. It’s home and always will be. When you’ve lived somewhere a very long time, it’s easy to miss what’s special about it and I’m no exception. I work across the street from the Spokane Falls and yet rarely look at them. In those few moments when I do, I’m always stunned by their beauty. I tell myself I’ll pay more attention, which, of course, I don’t.  It makes me feel sad that I often don’t appreciate the beauty of where I live.

And then, I read a review on one of my books or I get an email or a Facebook post that remarks how the descriptions of the area are so clear. It never fails to make me smile.  I think to myself that perhaps I do see and appreciate more than I realize.

I always thought I’d move away from NE Washington and never did. I love visiting cities like New York, Houston, San Diego, Vancouver. Each time I go to places like that I think how wonderful it would be to live there. Then I come home and suddenly, I don’t want to live anywhere else. I drive to my office and watch a bald eagle soar along the shore of the river. I stop and let a young moose cross the road. I run at lunch through a park in the heart of the city that is lush with trees, grass, and beauty.  I ride my bike through a massive state park surrounded by forests, mountains, and lakes.

I may not have started my life here but my roots run deep. I think I’ll stay.

Running with the dogs

Tags

5K run, Dogs, German Shepherd

Coming up on Sunday is the Leashes and Laces 5K run in Post Falls, Idaho. I’m participating along with my German Shepherd, Falco. He’s a true delight to go places with and a lovely dog. When he joined our household at eleven weeks old I wasn’t so sure about him. Falco was definitely the doggy version of ADHD. Despite going to dog training, he pushed all my buttons and was a handful to put it mildly. More than once I wanted to throw in the towel. Despite his normal mode of operation at about a hundred miles an hour, he was and is a gentle soul with a most congenial nature. Falco is a big dog, weighing in at a good hundred plus pounds. He’s primarily black with big black eyes. He looks tough. He’s not. Without reservation I can say he is the best-natured dog I’ve ever had. Never once in eight years have I seen him get upset about anything. He loves people, he loves other dogs, he’s in love with our little rescued cat. He’s a true gentleman who, when he looks intently into your eyes, seems to be speaking to your heart.

Someone once asked me how I could keep sharing my home with animals when their lives are so short and their passing so painful. I responded, how could I not? Yes their lives are relatively short but the joy they bring in the time we have together is invaluable. Sunday, Falco and I will participate in a worthy fund-raiser for the K9 unit in Post Falls. Our being there benefits a very worthy organization but even more important to me is spending time with a dog who makes my life richer and happier simply with his presence.

With A Vengeance

My last post was one written with sorrow in my heart but today, I want to write about joy and finding happiness in all corners of the world. This weekend I’m at the Bold Strokes Books Lesbian Book Festival debuting my novel Crimson Vengeance. The main character, a 500-year-old vampire is a lesbian and one kick-ass woman! So how does a writer who’s been married (to a man) for twenty years end up writing a lesbian romance you ask? I’d love to give a quick and easy answer except I don’t really have one. This character simply came to life in my imagination and I liked her a lot. In my mind, love is love, and everyone deserves the right to love the person they choose. In Crimson Vengeance, Dr. Riah Preston falls in love with Adriana James. It’s their story, their journey, their joy. Of course, there’s danger, death, and evil, but hey, that’s pretty much standard in all my books! What is more important to me in all my stories is the path to finding a soul mate as cliché as that might sound. Passion is great. Sex is great. Yet finding that one person who touches your soul is like nothing else in the world and everyone deserves that.

Sitting among the warm, encouraging, and interesting women at the BSB Book Festival has been the most fun I’ve had in ages. Had I not written this book I may never have met many of these women and that would have been shame for my life has become so much richer because of it. Joy truly can be found around every corner if you simply open your heart to it.

Choices

It’s so easy when we’re young. We have the whole world in front of us and nothing can hurt us. But, as the years move forward, the lessons come. Some we heed. Some we ignore. It takes some time before we realize that really…life is all about choices. Is there a master plan? Maybe. Maybe not. Why am I pondering on these things? It’s simple–life and death.

In the last year, too many people in my life have left this earth. Some unfairly–cancer, diabetes, accidents. Some by their own hands, whether intentional or not. And some, through a combination of both. My brother who succumbed to cancer chose not to seek medical help until the cancer had progressed so far, the doctors couldn’t stop it. A cousin’s young daughter (27) lost her battle with juvenile diabetes. And yet another, a friend since childhood lost her life after a quiet battle with drugs and alcohol. Choices and fate.

Over 20 years ago, I made a decision that alcohol was a destructive force in my life. I made the choice to walk away from it and my life changed. I thought at the time it would be horrible and how could I enjoy parties or nights out on the town? Funny, it really didn’t take long at all before I realized I didn’t miss it one little bit. Instead, life took on a focus that I could embrace. I got out of an unhealthy marriage and ultimately, entered into another one far healthier and much, much happier. I finished my education and went on to graduate school. I changed jobs and steadily moved up. I published seven novels with number eight due for release in a few months. I began to participate in healthy activities such as running and cycling. In 2010, I began to participate in triathlons. I can say with confidence, one choice opened the door to it all. It was a choice that was right for me.

Last night I sat mulling over the revelation that yet another childhood friend had succumbed to the lure of alcohol and drugs. She wasn’t the first and probably won’t be the last. Her death from these causes was, however, a shock. I never would have guessed. Then again, substance abuse can be a quiet and deadly path. A lonely path. I wish I could have helped. I wish I could have told her that there is another way. But I couldn’t and now it’s too late.

Choices.

Expression comes in many forms

Tags

art quilts, autism, quilting

And this year it’s more than the writing or the triathlons. I was able to join a group of wonderful textile artists and have a small art quilt included in the Autism Speaks exhibit. It was an opportunity to support a wonderful cause and at the same create a piece of textile art. I miss the tactile satisfaction that hand quilting provides but the arthritis in my hands simply doesn’t take well to the fine work required of hand piecing and quilting.  I can run, bike, swim, or type and I’m fine, but put a needle in my hand and my joints scream for a week. So, it was really nice to have a chance to be part of this fine exhibit and support awareness and understanding of autism. When you have a minute, take a peek.

http://btaqe.blogspot.com/

Wishing you a wonderful 2011. May you be healthy, happy, and very creative.