Archive for April, 2021

Gray Lace


Please allow me to introduce a friend, an antique, Gray Lace, an historic fiction.

I wrote her. I can call her whatever I please.

She was published in 2015 and , yes, she is copyrighted, copyrighten?, copywrote? I have the Right!

Speaking of copying, I’m revising her, but decided to at least partially, if not in full, but not today, self-publish now. The term self-publish makes me anxious, not nervous. That is another story. Is it self-publishing if Word Press has to come to my rescue? Possibly. I really do need the security of the agent/editor/publisher package. Someday. Again.

Gray Lace is an important non-human character in my story. Most folks call this plant Spanish Moss. My friends, the characters, travel among her lacey fingers. Today, Trevor Coffman, feeling none too courageous, will be the first to appear in this Word Press production of Gray Lace.

Enjoy my 1908 adventure set in an expensive hunting camp found in the swamps of southeastern Carolinas.

Trevor caught the forceful smack square on his forehead. The thirty-ton engine spit out moisture, a heat that smelled of mold, settling itself above the natural fog, thicker that any he had endured in London. The train, from semi-civilized Boston, had dumped him into a foreign land of strange sounds and smells.

A vendor’s tender song caught his attention before he could find her. “May I serve you a cup of morning coffee and a warm muffin, sir?” She didn’t sound foreign. She sounded smooth and soothing. Almost anyone would after that night on the train from Richmond then Wilmington.

He stopped his progress down the wooden train station platform, allowing the mist to swirl around him. Slowly the fog opened a lovely American gift. Her light brown curls had frizzed into a halo worthy of her warm smile and her green eyes. This green was different. He hadn’t seen a green that wouldn’t let him go. The worn clothing covered the curves he enjoyed imagining. She was unusually tall, nearly his six-three. Her captivating eyes stared bravely in polite deviance, in spite of the subservient body language.

A friendly slap on his back jolted his vision. “Trevor, the camp provides refreshments,” his soon-to-be brother-in-law nodded to the lady and rudely analyzed her appearance. “There’s more entertainment to be had besides this one. Come on now. Our elaborate hunting camp awaits.” He flourished his arm and bowed as his own servant back home in Boston might have done after far too many whiskeys. “Let’s impress everyone with your British title.”

Enough! for now.

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Definition: a person greatly admired, loved, revered, or appreciated


My pandemic idols listed today are all younger than me. That’s fine. There are several more, but these happen to be authors.

I read, really I do read.

All titles were published this year. All helped to save my limited sanity.

Tasha Alexander: The Dark Heart of Florence

C.S. Harris: What the Devil Knows

Deanna Reaborn: The Unexpected Peril

M.J. Ross: The Last Tiara

I have read other titles since 2021 made an appearance, but I’m quite fond of historical mysteries, so I’m highlighting these. They offered escapism, knowledge, and lessons to equate to our problems today…persistence, perseverance, and self-control. Their characters taught, the settings awed, and the plots entertained. One individual compliment goes to C.S. Harris. Her details of smells, sounds, sights of early nineteenth century London make me appreciate the now. I find myself counting my many blessings far more often.


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“Staying healthy” assumes one is already healthy. “Staying healthy” during a pandemic assumes one is planning to escape This Mess! “Staying healthy” is the subject of many authors’ blogs, podcasts, and newsletters. So, I’ll assume you can read one more since I assume that’s why you’re here. You’re ready to escape from This Mess.

Body, soul, and mind are the assumed categories of staying healthy. Yes, I walk daily with The Hubs around an assumed track. I pray daily for my soul, which I assume is where my spirit is hiding from the craziness of This Mess.

Now, on to my assumed mind. On my phone, my pocket computer, there are three mind fitness apps. No, not Face Book nor Twitter. No, not CNN nor NPR. No, not Instagram nor Linked In. For numbers, I like Sudoku. For shapes and logic, I like Ubongo.

For vocabulary strengthening, I enjoy (believe it or not) Words with Friends. I have two. Friends. During This Mess.

We play four or five games silmultaneously. I am always embarrassed. I never win. Yet… I assume that I will win before the end of This Mess.


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