Friday, August 31, 2012
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Monday, August 27, 2012
Sunday, August 26, 2012
My author blog: http://laurelhawkes.blogspot.com/
Saturday, August 25, 2012
Friday, August 24, 2012
Thursday, August 23, 2012
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
Sneak Peek excerpt:
"Matthew," Elizabeth hissed.
He grinned, unrepentant. "My sister instructs me I am not to ply you with my myriad questions, at least, not yet."
"You're incorrigible," she muttered. It was all she could do not to clamp her hand over her mouth. She'd never meant to utter the words aloud.
Mr. Jonathan Silverton turned his full attention on her, his gray-eyed gaze flicking over her from head to foot and back again.
Vague discomfort rippled through her. She knew she was unaccustomed to a man's attention, but had he lingered overlong in his perusal of her? Had she ever endured such scrutiny? Under her sire's critical gaze, of a certainty, and perhaps his cronies as well. This had felt different. The latter invariably filled her with the sensation of being one of her father's breeding mares, but not coming from Mr. Silverton. Instead, she had sensed something more -- familiarity or perhaps recognition -- and yet how could such a thing be when they'd never met before this moment? She would remember if they had, without a doubt. His brooding world-weariness and striking appearance were unforgettable.
She concentrated on keeping her own gaze directed to the gentleman's face, endeavoring not to notice his broad shoulders and chest, encased in a close-fitting coat and waistcoat, or his trim waist and lean hips and legs, in tailored trousers and boots, all of chocolate brown. In contrast, his shirt was stark white, and the cravat was tied with practiced carelessness. She suspected his piercing gray-eyed inspection of her discerned a great deal more than she wanted to reveal. Dragging her gaze away from his eyes to the rest of his face, she noticed it was tanned, his cheekbones high, his forehead broad, framed with light brown locks curling in disarray. His straight nose drew her perusal to his bow-shaped lips, the lower being fuller than the upper, and accentuated by his square jaw.
He stepped forward, and she offered her hand, smiling, hoping her own nervousness did not show. As handsome as he was, a darkness overshadowed him, a burden on his soul.
Tucking away her contemplations, she interjected, "Please pay no attention to my brother. He may be three and twenty, but when it comes to horses he is more like three and ten."
"Ellie, never say so. Seven and ten, at least, was when I knew enough to appreciate quality, when I saw it, and even you cannot deny those horses were prime quality."
Though Mr. Silverton offered a pleasant smile, it did not reach his eyes.
Various e-formats are available at Desert Breeze Publishing: http://stores.desertbreezepublishing.com/StoreFront.bok
Also: Amazon, Barnes and Noble, iBookI've started The Impossible program. (I'll talk more about it later.) In the email that arrived, last night, this was Joel's final line: "...you might want to get some sleep tonight, tomorrow's the most important day of your life." How did he know? He didn't, but God did, and He inspired me to sign up when I did, so this message arrived exactly when I needed. It isn't that having my book published is more important than anything else. Each day is the start to the rest of my life, and today, I've taken a step I never dreamed I'd take. I thought it was impossible. I can live with being wrong. :-) Thanks, God.
Monday, August 20, 2012
Sunday, August 19, 2012
Saturday, August 18, 2012
Friday, August 17, 2012
Thursday, August 16, 2012
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
Monday, August 13, 2012
Six years ago, this month, my 17-1/2 year old dog went home. I still miss her. I'm still in mourning.
Every year, I acknowledge the day and try to soldier on. This year, I just can't.
This year, maybe it's the excitement of being published, and I'm afraid of being happy.
Actually, I wish she were here to share it. She was there when it all started. She put up with the writing into the wee hours of the morning because I couldn't turn off the story.
Arthur, the dog in A Promise of Possibilities, was actually created with my furry baby as the model.
Maybe, this year, I finally feel like I don't have to pretend like everything is okay when it isn't. I want a peaceful, orderly room, but then I'm all too aware of her absence.
She won't care if the book is a success or a failure. She didn't care if I was fat or skinny, pretty or ugly, rich or poor, famous or anonymous. She didn't care what an emotional moron I was or how damaged I was or how scarred. She only cared that I fed her, played with her, cuddled her when she wanted it, and took her outside when she needed. When I felt the least lovable, she still thought I was. She created the game to let me know when she wasn't cross with me anymore and allowed me to use the same method to let her know when I wasn't cross anymore.
Sunday, August 12, 2012
Saturday, August 11, 2012
Friday, August 10, 2012
Thursday, August 9, 2012
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
Sunday: Slept 12 hours. Wow. Friend came to visit bearing croissants. We shared the two different flavors. Love doing that. Feel like I've had two without all the guilt. I was more mindful.
Monday: The only way to slow down my eating, at this point, is to force myself to do something else between bites. Two hours sleep last night. Hate when this catches up to me.
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
Monday, August 6, 2012