Favorite Day of the Week

We celebrated a big anniversary and it made me reminisce about our lives, about how far we've come. Hubs and I grew up in different states, but in similar fashion ... we often spoke of our favorite things like ... our favorite day of the week. 

This is what writers do - we search our pasts for intersections and meaning. You do that, too? Of course, it's my belief we are all writers at heart. Writers and readers. 

In my current work in progress, I mine past relationships, as always, and try to craft them into something new and what else ... readable. Haha. I didn't say my standards were high, just readable. That's it. Now, I'm back to work on it, that WIP. Another fictionalized story full of me and other stuff so not me. Maybe you will like it ... maybe not. One thing is certain, it's not ready for prime time yet, as the old saying goes, but here's a little bit of my mind talking to itself in the meantime. 

(Comment if you want to share your thoughts. I love hearing from you.) ❤️☕️📚

What’s your favorite day of the week? 

Mine has always been Saturday.
Sleep in
no school
cereal and cold milk
TV on low - Tom & Jerry
or Wile E. Coyote and The Roadrunner - 
The Monkees!
American Bandstand at noon ❤️
Life was good.
No, it was great.

That was me
that was my living room -
do kids even watch TV anymore?
I don't think so 😢

Why does that make me sad?
Because now they doomscroll
and binge series based on violent games -

not a cartoon roadrunner or coyote but men and women

killing each other over and over again.

And that language and the sex - why? Just ... why?

The envelope is torn - not pushed - torn
wide open and shredded, the pieces burned to a crisp -

Innocence left in ashes.

I find I'm suddenly all for censorship - 

no one needs to see what I accidentally glimpse

on so many types of screens now

After all on my Saturday, after Bandstand,

my chariot awaited 

outside in the driveway

a sparkly green bike with white banana seat and 

freedom built on a fast frame of steel, slim spokes,

and rubber

I owned the neighborhood

in fact, the entire town - 

small town life was good.

No, it was great.

That was me

do kids have it that good

anymore? Is this what technology is all about?

I don't think so -

it makes me sad. 😢

All posts © Ann Swann

PS did you know the Coyote's middle name is Ethelbert?

SEEKERS is Here!

Hello friends! Goodness, it's been awhile since I've updated this account. It's not because I'm lazy - well, not much - I've just been busy. SEEKERS came out, (and now the audio is almost ready). Don't you adore the cover? That's a perfect Turq and Snake. I'm working on the third book, REMAINDERS. That's what's keeping me so busy. Well, that and the major move hubs and I made ... clear across the state of Texas. 

Whoo. I'm about to recover, I think. 

In addition to REMAINDERS, I've also got RETURN TO STUTTER CREEK in the works. That is a tentative title, I have another in mind, but we'll see how it plays out. For now, enjoy your weekend and as always, happy reading.

And don't forget to look me up on FB or Instagram, we'll chat. 😊📚😊

 

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A Little Inspiration

On my evening constitutional with Dude -- my hubby -- this old Evanescence song came up on my iPod playlist. It's always been one of my faves, and it seems to fit what my character, Detective Kendra Dean, is going through in this scene from my Work in Progress, COPPER LAKE, the third book in the Stutter Creek suspense series from 5 Prince Books.

This scene is where Kendra and her younger partner, Woodrow, find themselves in a small bar far from home while wrapping up a prisoner transport job. Kendra is a career detective who always tried to keep her job related horror stories away from her home life. She'd thought she was doing the right thing until recently when her husband, Bill, told her he was leaving, he was tired of being in their marriage alone.

Bring Me to Life is the name of the song ...



https://youtu.be/i3MKTm-49uI

Scene:

           After ordering their drinks—beer for him, White Russian for her—Woody excused himself to the men’s room.

            When he returned, his path led directly behind her chair. He must have noticed her rubbing at her neck and shoulders because he stopped and gave her a thirty-second massage.

            “Ahh,” she said. “Everything’s in knots.”

            “I hear ya." He rolled his own head around slowly. “Not used to riding fourteen hours with a perp sitting behind me. Even if he was behind wire and asleep most of the time.” He took his seat across from her again.

            Kendra shrugged and met his grin with a tired one of her own. “The things we do for the job.” She took another sip of her drink and inspected the nearly deserted bar. “Thank God there’s not much going on.”

            Woody nodded. “I’ll be ready to hit the sack after this.” He glanced around. “It’d be our luck for a fight to break out. Guess we’re taking quite a chance having a drink when we’re technically still on-the-job.”

            Kendra raised her short glass. “Here’s to taking chances.”

            “Amen.” Woody clinked his beer bottle against her glass.

            When a slow song came on the jukebox, he stood and held out his hand. “Take another chance?”

            She took one more sip of her drink and then placed her hand in his. It’s only one song, she remembered telling herself. But a flame of longing grew in her belly as she allowed him to pull her in close. He didn’t press her body to his; he simply curled his large hand around hers and held it against his chest while the music led them around the tiny dance floor. When she chanced a glance at his face, she was surprised to find his eyes were closed.

            She relaxed and rested her temple against the shelf of his chin. Even now, chained to the floor in this nightmarish bunker, she could still recall the way she felt in his arms, as if she’d just arrived home from a long, arduous, journey. Kendra also remembered wondering how long it had been since she and Bill had gone dancing. How long it had been since they had held each other so tenderly and carefully.

            When the music stopped, they both opened their eyes. What the hell am I doing? She stepped back, head down, not looking at him until they paid their bill and left.

Lucky 7 Meme

Carolyn Arnold tagged me for The Lucky 7 Meme

Here are the rules:  Go to page 77 of your current work or your Work in Progress and go down to line 7 and copy down the next 7 lines, then post them as they are written.  Then tag 7 authors to let them know.

Here are my 7 lines from page 77 of my new Women's novel   HOW LONG DOES IT TAKE TO FALL OUT OF LOVE? 

         I held her and let her cry a little longer.  “We were happy, weren’t we?  That water was so blue … let’s get out our calendar and see when we have some more time off.  We’ll plan another trip.”  Her little chin trembled as she lifted her face to mine.

            “And will Daddy come this time?”

            If he’d been there at that moment, I would have chewed through his carotid with my teeth.  “No, I don’t think so, but hey …" I made my voice as cheerful as possible.  “Why don't we go and have a mommy/daughter day.  How about it?  We’ll plan our trip later, after we go get our hair done and do a bit of shopping, maybe try out that fancy new tea room across from the university.”

Okay, now I'm tagging:

1. Sara Barnard

2. Kimberlie Orr

3. Elyse Salpeter

4. Gwen Choate

5. Katy Huth Jones

6. Carmen de Sousa

7. Frank Tuttle