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I have a test scheduled this morning. In fact, I’m here, thirty minutes early because I was afraid I’d get lost in the maze of hospital corridors. In some places, one must go down to go up, or maybe that’s only due to a screw up on my part.

My fingernails could use a trim. And some polish. That’s what I think as I sit waiting to be called back. They’re going to think I’m a doddering old lady. Maybe I won’t need the test to confirm it.

It’s a test of my memory, you see. Lately I’ve done a few things that have made me wonder. Made me nervous, in fact. So I scheduled a test with a neurologist.

And I haven’t known how to study for it. I thought of googling the Pythagorean theorem or the number of degrees in a triangle, but I doubt those questions will appear on this test. More’s the pity. I think I remember those well enough, even without google.

Peace, people.

I published this piece less than a year ago when my first book, Mayhem at the Happy Valley Motor Inn and Resort hit 500 reviews. Just recently, the book hit 1,000 reviews and now it’s at something like 1,040.

My husband, Studly Doright, reminded me of the angst I’d suffered wondering if it would ever get to 50 reviews. I do. Felt like it took forever, but those first fifty were really special. And I have many of my blog followers to thank for supporting me, for taking me to 50 and beyond.

Five Hundred?! About a week ago I realized that Mayhem at the Happy Valley Motor Inn and Resort was nearing five hundred reviews on Amazon, and I …

Pinch Me

My memory is going. I don’t have any measurable proof, at least not yet, but it’s something I fear. I’ve heard of people who’ve forgotten about stuff that happened ten minutes ago, yet can recall obscure knowledge they’d gained decades in their past.

Case in point: socks. I was sitting on the edge of my bed yesterday morning putting on my socks when the word “calcetines” popped into my head. Huh. Socks in Spanish. Where’d that come from?

But ask me what I had for dinner two hours ago. I can tell you one thing— it wasn’t calcetines.

Peace, people.

I have a tendency to eavesdrop. And then out myself by doing something stupid like letting people know I was listening in.

Earlier in the week I overheard a trio talking about the book clubs they belong to. They were sitting behind me at the coffee shop and even as I tried to talk myself out of giving them my card, I turned around and gave them my card, saying, “I’m so sorry for eavesdropping, but I’m an author and here are my books. Just in case, you know.”

They were so gracious, but I kept babbling, apologizing, and I’m certain my cards might’ve been used for kindling later that day.

Then this morning I was in a different coffee shop listening to the cutest college-aged couple play a game. One of their answers was so off base that I burst out laughing, Come on, cereal is NOT a soup, am I right?

I apologized, and they asked if I’d be a referee when they couldn’t agree on an answer. And that is a first for me. Maybe eavesdropping has finally paid off.

Peace, people!

Friday night I’m going to an event hosted by Midtown Reader, Tallahassee’s lovely independent bookstore, where authors James Patterson and Mike Lupica will be talking about their newest collaboration.

I had the opportunity to meet Mr. Patterson several years ago, and I asked him a question that was the equivalent of “how does your main character like his eggs?” I don’t recall the actual question, just that it resulted in a bewildered look on the author’s face.

And that might be why there will be no author signings this go around.

I’ve never been asked to do a book signing, but if I ever am, I’ll be able to answer even the dumbest question. Take that, Mr. Patterson. (He was very gracious, by the way. Just perplexed.)

Peace, people!

Visiting with one of my favorite baristas this morning as he mixed my almond milk chai latte, I couldn’t help but get caught up in his excitement as he told me about his New Year’s Eve plans. He and a couple of friends are headed to Atlanta to a big party. He promised they had a hotel room and wouldn’t drive impaired. He didn’t even roll his eyes when I insisted.

He asked what my plans were. I told him, then we laughed and laughed. Seems going to bed at 8:30 p.m. on NYE isn’t as cool as I imagined.

However you celebrate, be careful. I, for one, plan to wear my slippers with the safety soles so I don’t slip on the tile floor after I’ve had a few drinks. Don’t sip and slide. That’s my motto.

Peace, people! And Happy New Year!

Pecan pie? Check.

Pumpkin bread? Check.

Cornbread for dressing? Check.

Prosecco and Orange juice for mimosas standing by? Check.

It’s going to be a great Thanksgiving.

I write books with a splash of action to them. In my current work in progress, there’s a scene in which police officers converge on a location while my main character, Paula, is on a ride along with a sheriff’s deputy. She witnesses a crime in progress and gleans a key piece of information that could help law enforcement find the perpetrator.

Needless to say, it’s a harrowing experience for Paula, but until this morning I had little idea of just how much such an incident might result in a spike of adrenaline.

I’d been on the phone with my friend, Flo, most of the morning, discussing the above mentioned work in progress. When our call ended, I slapped on some makeup and headed into Tallahassee for lunch at my favorite place. I was running a bit later than usual today, and hoping my lunch destination wasn’t too busy.

Turning into the parking lot, I was startled by the sight of a plain white sedan headed straight for me. Half a second later, I realized the car was an unmarked police cruiser as its discreetly placed lights were activated.

I thought the car needed to get past me to head onto the street I’d just turned off of, but as I moved out of the way, the place was swarmed by additional cars from various law enforcement agencies. I navigated out of their way and back onto the street as smoothly as possible as officers emerged from their vehicles with guns drawn.

Y’all I was shaking.

My first thought was about the employees there who make me feel more like family than a customer. Was the cafe being robbed? Were they hostages?

My second thought was, well, essentially the same as the first.

I drove around the block and kept an eye on the situation from a nearby corner. When the police began dispersing, I got up the nerve to return, and was relieved to find all my “kids” safe and sound.

The details of the reasons behind the incident are still sketchy. I may never know why the officers converged on my favorite eatery, but now, I think I might need to rewrite Paula’s reaction to witnessing the robbery in my book. Her adrenaline levels need to go way, way up.

Peace, people.

Dear Readers,

Did you know that Alexa will read a book from your kindle library? Holy cow! Just a few minutes ago I said, “Alexa, read Mayhem at the Happy Valley Motor Inn and Resort from my kindle library.” And now she’s doing it! 😳

While Alexa doesn’t have a lot of inflection to her voice, it’s not bad! Not bad at all.

I’m blown away–technology just continues to amaze me.

Now pardon me, I need to find out what happens to Paula and Cassie next. Ah, the benefits of a short memory.

Peace, people!

Mayhem at the Happy Valley Motor Inn and Resort (The Happy Valley Series Book 1), available on Amazon, along with books 2 and 3 in the series. Oh, there’s also a stand alone romance of the sweet, yet spicy variety//The Cowboy and the Executive. Might need to listen to that one tonight. Wink, wink.