not fair

I just enjoyed reading this, and thought I’d share with everyone else. #LifeIsNotFair

The Best Advice So Far

life is not fair: big fish in small bowl, little fish in big bowl

I’ve been taking a trip down memory lane lately where this blog is concerned. I love when I re-read a post from years back and have forgotten that I’d even written it, allowing me to read it in a whole new light. I love it even more when I laugh or cringe at all the right parts, wondering what’s going to happen in the story (which is saying something, seeing that I’ve lived all of these stories).

One of my earliest posts, which subsequently developed into three early and integral parts of my book, The Best Advice So Far, came from Carlotta, my friend (and my dear friends’ mom) who passed away many years ago. She left three key pieces of advice that have been mainstays in my own life, and which I’ve passed along countless times since. This post will mean all the more if you take a moment to read that…

View original post 1,300 more words

Cruisin’ through books cause books make life worth living with Aly! #RileyAmosReviews 7/27/2015 ARC part!

Crystal Kingdom by Amanda Hocking

I love this author!  I love so many of her books.  I think she is great so I was glad to get a chance to read this book for her.  I love this series it is great we have so many great points in this book.  If you love Amanda Hocking as much as I do you have to check out this book.  If you are looking for something with action and a fantasy and magic you need to read books from Amanda Hocking!  * I received this book from Netgalley in exchange for an honest review*   5/5

Cruisin’ through books cause books make life worth living with Aly! #RileyAmosReviews 7/27/2015 part 2!

Simpatico: They Will Never Tear Us Apart: A Novel of Romantic Suspense by Dermot Davis

This book was very good!  I enjoyed it very much.  I love books with hidden abilities and magic.  I was caught up in the story line and I wanted Andrea and Fiona to be together and not split apart.  I can’t wait for more from this series.  * I received this book from the author in exchange for an honest review*  5/5

Cruisin’ through books cause books make life worth living with Aly! #RileyAmosReviews 7/27/2015 part 1!

The Evolution of Evil by Steven F. Freeman

I have only read a couple books from this series but I could see this go into a TV show or movie.  I love the way the series is believable. Alton and Mallory solved a series of crimes that entwined  and developed as the story goes along.  I think this was great and my favorite part of this book.  I would read more from this author.  * I received this book from the author in exchange for an honest review*  5/5

Brain to Books Blog Tour a mish-mash 2

Brain to Books Blog Tour

Voices Among Many

From the pen of Charlene Diane Jones

This poem doesn’t appear in any books but free flows through readings I have done over the last couple of decades.
I performed poetry with my poetry partner Linda Stitt across much of Southern Ontario
throughout the last decades of the millenium, and have focused through the new millenium on being at home to write, poetry, prose (my novel The Stain is available at
I have a radio program twice monthly on 102.7 fm in which I interview writers. Let me know if you are interested, by contacting me at
I also have a blog space at I love science, which often sounds in its amazing and surprising details like poetry to me. I particularly love Neuroscience and have just completed a small book called Medicine Buddha/Medicine Mind on the power of visualization as explained by neuroscience. No, really, it’s an easy to read primer to those two subjects.
Anyway thanks for taking time here with me. I look forward to more contact later!

“Beading” by Charlene Diane Jones

Snow falling, near midnight
your voice on the phone.
I walk the long mile to your house
my black cape flaps like a crow’s wing
you remove, down to my eager skin.
That was long ago.
Now, between my skin and this wall
your face appears, rises and dissolves.
Memory and dream
wind on the same skein.
Our waking days bead
the braided string.
This day I wake to cigarettes,
scotch and this wall,
where memory frames
you stepping into my kitchen
or ambling with me through villages
where a your man snakes his hips
under the low-slung silk skirt
his kohl-darkened eyes burning,
beckoning the older man, his partner.
I remember you said then
you wanted a man, a young man, that man.
Memories and dreams
wind on the same skein.
Our waking days bead
the braided string.
Now, I leave my house
to walk in snow
wrapped in ten years of dreams
and a need to forget
that dream about the plague,
you thin, blistered, fevered
choking in delirium
delusion about recovery,
need to forget how you said
last time we met
the dream about the plague was mine
how last time we met you said
that dream about the plague was mine.
How dreams and memory wind
together on the same skein.
Under my skin waking days bleed.
The beads spin.
Your death yanked the string.

From the Desk of B.R. Kingsolver.

From I’ll Sing for my Dinner by BR Kingsolver

I'll Sing For My DinnerWe went up on stage and he handed me a white Fender Stratocaster, a Jimi Hendrix guitar. Jared had been playing a hollow-body Gibson most of the evening, but switched for a few songs.
Strapping on the Strat, I strummed it to hear how it was tuned. And then one of my imps seized control. I launched into Purple Haze, running the entire introductory riff. When I stopped and looked around, everyone in the bar was staring at me.
Stepping to the mic, I said, “Sorry. I’m not used to driving a guitar this powerful. It just sorta got away from me.”
Everyone laughed.
We got me in tune with the rest of the band, and when the other members came back from their break, Jared introduced me.
“We have a special treat tonight, a psychedelic rocker from the East Coast.” That got a laugh. “Those of you who happened to catch her playing here during dinner last night or tonight know what a special talent she is, and she’s graciously agreed to sing a couple of songs with us. Please welcome Miss Cecily Buchanan.”
Their band was tight and I liked playing with them. Jared was an excellent lead guitarist, and their pedal steel player was pretty good. The bassist and drummer were also good musicians. The rhythm guitarist was adequate, but had a nice voice. We played half a dozen Emmylou Harris songs, including Luxury Liner, Quarter Moon in a Ten Cent Town, Roses in the Snow, Boston to Birmingham, Even Cowgirls Get the Blues, and I sang a duet of Hello Stranger with Jared.
I’ve never been shy on stage, and the applause and cheers as I put the guitar down and stepped off the bandstand felt as good as if I’d been playing Carnegie Hall. It’s better than food. I drank it all in shamelessly. For the first time in years, I felt whole, like myself. I remembered that I used to live for that feeling. How had I gone so far astray? This was so much better than any drug.
Jake came out from behind the bar and I skipped toward him. I threw my arms around his waist and gave him a hug. He hugged me back, in a friendly sort of way. His large strong hands on my back felt good. He didn’t try to pull me into him, and for some reason, it didn’t make me feel uncomfortable.
“Damn, Cecily, you’re incredible,” he said.
I looked up in his face. He was smiling and happy for me. Filled with approval. My heart seemed so full I thought it might burst. Where had this man been? Why hadn’t I run into him two years ago? Someone who seemed genuinely happy when I succeeded, instead of jealous?
I pulled his face down to mine and kissed him on the lips. “You can’t imagine how happy you’ve made me, and I’ve barely known you a day,” I said.
teaser 2I turned to the band, and launched into the opening rift ofDance All Night. After the second rift, they came in on time, and I turned to the mic to sing.
It’s been a lousy day
Come home to get away
Boss was a jerk, always down on me
Need to kick loose and move to feel free
Going to go out and
Dance all night
The music makes things right
Shake my ass and forget
Ain’t heard last call yet
Dance all night
Boyfriend called and moaned
Says he has to work ‘til dawn
Thinks I’m too dumb to catch on
He’s gettin’ some on the side
I ain’t staying home while he rides
Don’t want to sit around bored
Short dress and fuck-me shoes, hit the door
Going to go out and
Dance all night
The music makes things right
Shake my ass and forget
Ain’t heard last call yet
Dance all night
<guitar solo>
Don’t want to sit around bored
Short dress and fuck-me shoes, hit the door
Flirt with all the good lookin guys
Gonna find one to make me fly
Going to go out and
Dance all night
The music makes things right
Shake my ass and forget
Ain’t heard last call yet
Dance all night
When I finished, I did think the roof would come off. It was a new song, one I started thinking about in New York and finished in London. It had a dance beat, and the lyrics were inspired by all the women I saw alone in the clubs. I had practiced it with the band, but no one else had heard it. Neither Darlene nor Terrie had great singing voices, but when we practiced it we decided they should come in on the chorus.

Brain to Books Blog Tour a mish-mash

Brain to Books Blog Tour

This and That

I have a few days planned for this blog tour that I’ve set aside for a little something extra to share. A collection of poems and excerpts.
From one of our featured authors, Ed Ireland.
authorpic Ed Ireland is a gypsy wanderer with a passion for words. His life has taken quite a few twists and turns,
some happy and some on the regrettable side. It all shows up in his collection of short stories and
poem, Forgotten Treasure. Each story and poem strikes a nerve of some event in his life or shows his
ability to fascinate or confound his readers.
The poetry is inspired by emotions. Anger, joy, love and spirituality all find their way out in them. The
short stories are studies in different genres. There is humor in the Wiki-esque biography of Popeye the Sailor and the irreverent “When the Music Stops”, fantasy in the “Bonds of War” and drama in “Silver Lining”. No matter what hits the chord with you, chances are you’ll find it in this book. Reviewers have said “Every part of this book has something interesting to say. The poetry especially is quite outstanding, really speaking to the heart.” and “Reading through this book encouraged a wide range of emotions and feelings, and that to me is a sign of a good book.”
Forgotten Treasure will be available for free at for
the duration of the tour. You can also visit Ed’s website and join his member’s area for news on when
Forgotten Treasure 2 will be available.

Excerpt from Forgotten Treasure:

Treasure6“My Regret” by Ed Ireland

In the twilight times of my days
I sit solitary, surrounded by the voices
Of a thousand wrongs I’ve done
Chastising and screaming for honor to be restored
Honor lost never to be regained
Such is the price of fear
Lost in the twilight times of my hours
Surrounded by the specter of loneliness
Gripped by the cold hands of self-imposed punishment
My strongest regrets are the loves I let slip
Through my unwieldy hands
And my unopened heart
Until finally in the twilight of my minutes
The stone hearts of the multitude open
Their searching eyes resting on what is left of my soul
Their grasping hands reach to render my life
All thoughts turn to you
And the hope you saw the child
And forgave my fear

A little something by H.L. Burke

Thaddues Whiskers and the DragonThaddeus F. Whiskers is a pampered palace pet, a kitten enchanted to never become a cat. Princess Clarice loves him, for in the entire kingdom, there is no other kitten as cute or as clever. He leads a life of cushions and cream until a wizard’s “gift” results in his banishment. Determined to make it back to the princess he loves, he escapes into the wilderness where he discovers the lair of a dragon.
Grandious, the dragon, doesn’t care about anything besides himself. He wants to be left alone with his treasure. However, there is something about Thaddeus that has him entranced. He finds himself opening his home and his heart to the little cat.
Thaddeus is a small creature in a big world. Between him and his beloved Princess stand conniving wizards, would-be-step-mothers, and rampaging rats. However, when danger threatens both Clarice and Grandious, Thaddeus won’t allow his size to get in the way of saving his friends.


For the first several steps, the floor was damp, slick stone, but as he moved inward the ground dried. The warm red glow flickered like the fire in a hearth, one of Thaddeus’s favorite things. He glanced up and stared at the great stalactites jutting from the ceiling like teeth. His tiny mouth dropped open. He put a paw forward, and the ground slipped beneath him with a clinking sound. He stepped again. Clink, clink, clink came each paw-fall. He nudged at one of the strange pebbles, flat and perfectly round, smooth and cold, gleaming in the fire light.
Coins? Thaddeus didn’t have much use for such things, but he knew humans liked them. He vaguely remembered when Hermes had chosen him from a farm cat’s litter to be the princess’s gift. Hermes had given the farmer two of these coin things, and the farmer had seemed quite pleased–even though Hermes had clearly gotten the better end of that deal.
Coins were cold, hard, and not tasty. What was the use of such objects? No wonder they’d been left in a cave.
The only treasure that interested Thaddeus was the source of the light. Light meant fire. Fire meant warmth. Warmth meant dry. Also, someone must have started the fire, which meant there might be humans there. Humans who could feed and care for him.
Water dripped from Thaddeus’s whiskers. He left wet paw-prints as he picked his way over the pile of gold. Coins loosened and slid down the hill in a tinkling avalanche. Thaddeus paused. Had anybody heard that?
He listened, both ears stretching towards the ceiling. He heard something: a repetitive wheezing in and out, like the bellows the maid used on the fire. Lowering onto his belly, Thaddeus crept to the top of the coins and gazed into the center of the cave.
There, curled among the coins and chests, gems and pearls, lay the largest creature Thaddeus had ever seen. Terror gripped the kitten. His tail stuck straight up.
It glistened bright green with scales like a fish’s but solid and dry, rather than supple and covered in butter and lemon juice. Claws, similar in shape to Thaddeus’s but twice the size of his whole body, tipped each of the monster’s four limbs. Great bat-like wings rested in folds at its sides. He remembered seeing a picture of one in Clarice’s books. A dragon. Thaddeus doubted if the creature would fit in King Victor’s throne room.
A creature like this could swallow him without even noticing. As bad as outside was, inside the cave was worse. Where could he go now?
Thankfully, the dragon’s eyes were closed. If Thaddeus backed out slowly . . .
He stepped backwards and something within the pile shifted. The surface Thaddeus had been standing on rolled forward, pulling him with it. He landed on his back even closer to the dragon.

“Lies” by Angela B. Chrysler

As seen in “Broken”

“There at love’s bitter end when the deadened heart is done,
The moon it wanes with one last sigh and the silence breaks. It breathes, “The end.”
And Death it calls as the stone crow breaks. Streaks of blood malform its face.
Death becomes its withered eyes and the shadows whisper, “Lies.”
Broken by Angela B Chrysler 1600x2500Now within the dying ground as I hear my maddened sound,
From the eaves the darkness seeps. It is there that the shadows whisper, “Lies”
With outstretched hand, I call, I moan. My fingers graze Death’s withered hand,
“My love,” I gasp. Despair clamps down, yet all I hear are lies.
With words of love, you kiss my face. Your sodden tears they fall like rain.
With twisted smile or upturned frown, you walk away, my death unfurled,
And I regain my heart betwixt your love, my blood, the lies, the pain
Yet you see none, and there I lay remembering your lies.
Belittle were your words of love, despite the warmth within your touch
You made my body sing and cry, and smiling you would watch me writhe
Voiced with words and sweet caress, you impaled me with your flesh
Now, upon my death we part. Still, the shadows whisper, “Lies.”
Throwing back my naked breast, cold death’s grip, I welcome it.
And at last, with final breath I open up, invite him in.
Through me, riddles Death’s cold hand, as he rakes my skin from bone,
Death, in peace, at last I’ll sleep while the shadows whisper lies.
There at love’s bitter end when the deadened heart is done,
The moon it wanes with one last sigh and the silence breaks. It breathes, “The end.”
And Death it calls as the stone crow breaks. Streaks of blood malform my face.
Death becomes my withered eyes and the shadows whisper, “Lies.”