Note:
Vision and Verse does not store any personal information, such as email addresses or home addresses. We do not give any information to third parties. And cookies? We eat cookies
Note:
Vision and Verse does not store any personal information, such as email addresses or home addresses. We do not give any information to third parties. And cookies? We eat cookies
https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B01N2Q7HOT
Excerpt:
Okay, where the hell am I? What happened to me? The last thing I remember is… nothing comes to mind. Nothing looks familiar here. I turn toward the window. It’s dark outside; cloudy, not a star in the big, black sky. The room is dark. I’m naked in this big, comfortable bed. Judging from the smell of the lavender scent on the perfectly ironed, high-thread-count sheets and pillowcases, I’m either in a very high-end luxury hotel or in one of Martha Stewart's guest rooms.
A snore interrupts my thoughts. Apparently, I am not alone. I glance over at the noisy lump beside me. Nope. Don’t recognize him. There's a strong possibility that I've been teleported back to the free-loving sixties. I get up quietly to go to the bathroom.
A glint of gold catches my eye from the ring finger of my left hand. I'm married? Oh, shit! When did this happen? This isn't the sixties. This must be Vegas, baby. I creep into the bathroom, close the door, and snap on the light.
Definitely a hotel. Plain, antiseptic bathroom. Martha Stewart's guest bathroom would have scented candles and a sense of style, hospitality, and luxury. And not so much white. White walls, white floor, white towels, white shower curtain. A rather bizarre-looking attachment on the faucet, and another one on the showerhead. I look at the mirror. I carefully touch the mirror to make sure it’s a real mirror, not a… what? What else would it be? Oh, God, I’ve gone mad. I peer into the mirror.
Yikes! Well, I give that bony lump sleeping beside me credit for marrying me when I look like hell. Good grief, he must be a total loser. I examine my dull, spotty complexion, wild Einstein hair, and the bags under my blurry, bloodshot eyes. My head hurts. I check myself for bruises, scratches, and sore spots. No, nothing. Well, at least I wasn’t attacked. So, what do I tell that Bony Lump?
‘Hey, Bozo, whatever happened between us, it was just some bizarre mistake. Gather your things and get out of here. I'll contact my lawyer to annul this fiasco as soon as I get home. Now go.’ Then I’ll point to the door for dramatic effect. Oh, yeah, that sounds good.
As soon as I get home. Home? Where is home? I can’t remember. I look back at the reflection in the mirror. I can't remember where I live or how I got here. I can't remember where I work or what kind of car I drive. I can’t remember my name. A…Amy. Ann…B. Barb…Beebee…C. Cianna… Carrie…Carol, no.
Hmm. Did Bony Lump drug me? Did he drug me, take advantage of me, and then marry me? No, why would he do that? That makes absolutely no sense. I wiggle the beautiful gold wedding ring with a large, brilliant-cut diamond solitaire in the center. Weighty. Expensive. Good fit. And… slightly familiar. Oh, look, a little tan line. Now, how can that be? This has to be a dream.
I snap off the light and creep silently back into bed.
Oh, crap. That might have been my last chance at escape if this lump beside me is a kidnapper. The sooner I go back to sleep, the sooner I’ll wake up, and this bizarre dream will be over. D…Diane…E. Emma …F. Francie, no G…Gigi… H. Helen… I…Iona. J…Janie…K… Katie. L…Louise. M…M…Mary…Melanie.
Bony Lump rolls over and pulls me to him gently, hugging me, patting my shoulder.
“It was just a nightmare, my love. I'm right here. You're safe,” he whispers sweetly in a sexy, sleepy voice. “Go back to sleep. You’re safe. I’ll protect you. Always.” He kisses my head gently. He has an incredible, silken voice. British accent. Kind. Reassuring. Gentle. Loving. Very touching.
So, what else could I do but fall asleep in his arms, with my hand on his just-hairy-enough chest, breathing in his familiar scent.
VISION AND VERSE DISCLAIMER
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Welcome to Vision and Verse, the site for Art and Authors. What have you written?
BROKEN SOULS: Chronicles of A Humanitarian Health Worker. Non-fiction, part memoir and part experiences of fellow humanitarians plus a call to action for proactive mental health support for all humanitarian responders.
Before that, The Power of Passion.
I read BROKEN SOULS and it's wonderful. A glimpse into a life of love and service. Truly extraordinary.
What is your favorite genre to write?
True stories, in the most comical way possible to shed light in the darkness.
Favorite food.
Chapati and beans.
Tea or coffee?
Tea for sure.
Pizza or ice cream?
Well, pizza.
Wine or beer or soda or what?
Wine… beer… soda… not together. That one time…
Where would you like to visit?
The Grand Canyon
Go, David! The Grand Canyon was one of the most wonderful places I have ever been. It is mystical and magical. Standing on the South Rim looking down and across, you realize all those things that weighed so heavily on your heart and soul and kept you up at night and made you cry were nothing, mere blips on a screen, and in the big scheme of things, you are very tiny.
Do you listen to music when you write?
Yep.
What?
Amapiano, 3 step, or rhumba.
What makes you laugh?
Thinking about my lovely babies… and dark humor.
Favorite work of art or sculpture.
My children’s pieces of art.
How old were you when you started writing?
Circa 35 when I wrote my first book, The Power Of Passion.
Do you plan out your book with outlines and note cards?
Nope.
Or just write?
I just flow with the go… or go with the flow.
Describe your perfect evening.
A relaxed, romantic dinner with my loved one, listening to rhumba music which is her favorite genre.
Where do you get your inspiration?
My experiences and day to day occurrences. The people I serve and serve with most of all.
What do you do when you get writer's block?
I extend myself grace and patience… then we wait. Me, myself and I.
Who is your favorite author?
None really. Yet to pick one.
Last book you read.
Praxis.
What would you do for a living if you weren’t a writer?
I’d continue my work as a humanitarian health worker, stand up comedian, TV actor, Mental health advocate, motivational speaker and gym… so much gym.
I think a humanitarian health care worker/stand up comedian sounds perfect! Who is the one person who has influenced your personal life the most and why?
My late parents and my siblings.
If you could sit down and have a conversation with ONE person, living or dead, real or fictional, who would it be and why?
My late parents. They never got to see me get to this point in life and I’d want to hear what they think and feel.
What advice would you give someone who aspires to be a writer?
Write. Just… write. Then make sure you get a good publisher to help with the finer details and to ensure the book speaks to the audience as intended. But, don’t let the publisher take over your stories.
Do you have some links for us to follow you?
https://linktr.ee/Dreadlocked_Doc
VISION AND VERSE DISCLAIMER
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Vision and Verse does not store any personal information, such as email addresses or home addresses. We do not give any information to third parties. And cookies? We eat cookies.
Shadow of the Desert Queen, A Lady Elizabeth Hawthorne Mystery by Olivia Rose was a 1920s cozy mystery. The feisty Lady Elizabeth wears exquisite gowns, drives a Duisenberg around London, and solves mysteries with style and ease. Great start to a new series. I will be back for more.
“The Journey”
This piece by Texas Collage Artist Parker Kaufman is entitled "The Journey". It's 18" x 22".
It's based on the premise of each person having or embarking on a journey discovering who they are, what their part is in the grand scheme of things, and if they play a part at all.
VISION AND VERSE DISCLAIMER
Note:
Vision and Verse does not store any personal information, such as email addresses or home addresses. We do not give any information to third parties. And cookies? We eat cookies.
VISION AND VERSE DISCLAIMER
Note:
Vision and Verse does not store any personal information, such as email addresses or home addresses. We do not give any information to third parties. And cookies? We eat cookies.
This is a story of love; love discovered in the wrong place and time, love lost, and love found, love reimagined in a new time.
Dr. Olivia (Liv) Bellamy works at a cryogenic facility in Ohio that her grandfather, William Ulysses Bellamy, founded.
One day, an alarm sounds. A tube is beginning the thawing process. But no tube extraction was scheduled for today, this week, or this month.
Liv finds the beeping tube hidden in the basement. Inside the tube is a tall, slim male humanoid who Liv finds fascinating.
Paperback and ebook:
https://www.amazon.com/47-Deseveno-Carol-Ann-Kauffman-ebook/dp/B0B77JPT9M?ref_=ast_author_dp
VISION AND VERSE DISCLAIMER
Note:
Vision and Verse does not store any personal information like email addresses, home addresses, etc. We do not give any information to third parties. And cookies? We eat cookies.
VISION AND VERSE DISCLAIMER
Note:
Vision and Verse does not store any personal information, such as email addresses or home addresses. We do not give any information to third parties. And cookies? We eat cookies.