Thursday, January 23, 2014

Justin Bieber: Biebrat or Justinderstood?

This isn’t a slam the Bieb blog. Ok, maybe it is. And honestly, most people do not read my celebrity blogs unless they are about Chopped.  After watching the local news and the most recent antics of pop culture’s ‘I make Lindsey Lohan look like a saint’ sensation, I decided to do this blog.

I mean, really off the top of my head, in the last year, I can list a bunch of Biebcidents.  When I started digging, I was shocked. Some hadn’t made the news, well, they did. But were buried.

Let’s see.  To name a few: Peeing in a bucket on the street, spitting from a balcony on his fans, egging a neighbor’s house, going to brothels, graffiti, abandoning a monkey, kicking the Brazilian Flag, being HOURS late for concerts. All around being that stupid annoying neighbor that they want to get rid of, yet everyone makes excuses for. Really I have a solution for Justin’s neighbors. Move my neighbor next door to the Biebs, he’ll be out of the neighborhood in no time.

In his most recent antic, he was arrested in Florida, for drag racing and under the influence. Apparently, The Biebs isn’t familiar with the curse of being a celebrity and driving really fast. That sort of goes along with being ‘almost famous’ and flying in a small plane.

Bad things happen, and The Biebs is thinking it’s cool. But it's not, he’s not thinking of his mother.

I feel bad for his mother. I really do. I suppose she has gotten to that point when she sees his name come up on her phone, she hits silence, because she doesn’t want to deal with ‘what now’. Much like any mom with a grown child who gets in trouble. She has fond memories of him as a little Bieb. Those days when he looked up to her with those big eyes and probably said, ‘You’re the best mommy in the world.

Well, I bet that mom wants to wring his neck. As a parent, we pretend to see our child through rose colored glasses, we project that, the truth is, we see it. It hurts.

Let’s put aside that he makes the act of ‘twerking’ look virginie. Or the fact, it’s just a bad example. Like he cares. When he does this, he not only is showing lack of respect to the millions of people who misguidedly still worship him, but it's totally heartbreaking to the parents who didn’t raise him to be this way.

Unfortunately this latest Biebcident will be just like the others, unpunished. Everyone will complain, but nothing will be done and he’ll continue his antics, including annoying and making dangerous his neighborhood. I mean, really if being threatened by hulking Six foot Four, Keyshawn Johnson doesn’t scare him, nothing will.

So what’s the solution? Simple. Before someone beats him to a pulp, he mixes the wrong drugs with alcohol, or follows the path of James Dean … deport him. 

I’m thinking that may send a message to the Biebs. Because let’s face it, if it were any other immigrant doing this to his/her neighbors, driving reckless and fast around kids playing, the NIS would be up their ass. Whether it does the Biebs good or not, ignoring him and his misguided and illegal behavior is unfair to every law abiding immigrant who respected this country and their neighbors and were unfairly deported for less.

Monday, January 20, 2014

A Prisoner in My Own Home. YIKES!!!

I’ve been imprisoned within the confines of my own home and I have no one to blame but myself. I usually don’t post personal issues, but darn it, I need advice. Help.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I like being in my house, I get a lot of work done. But this is getting to the point of insanity. I did this to myself. My ‘pushover’ nature, inability to say 'no' and try to be nice, has now caused me to sneak out of my house, not answer my phone, and hide when I hear a knock.

It’s not the police or the paparazzi (Yeah, I wish) or even another stalker. Ok, maybe it is, but this is … my neighbor.

I was given the sign, and I ignored it. It started when she moved into the small one bedroom apartment in the house next door. The house is the same size as mine, but theirs is divided into three units. It started when she parked her SUV on the street blocking any view I had to pull out of the driveway, and also causing a danger because it was parked so close to the intersection, people could not safely pull out on to the road. The police had her move it to her driveway.

That was September.  We spoke. She understood my dismay. She apologized for being crass at first and not moving her car. And I thought, it was a nice woman who had a bad week.

Don’t get me wrong … she is very nice. Jump to October. I find her crying on her porch. Sobbing. She lives with her sick father and he needs medicine and she didn’t have money to pay the co payment or get milk. So, yeah, I know you're cringing, I gave her 20 dollars. She cried and was happy. Then I pulled the fatal error, I gave her my number and told her to text me if her father needed anything.

I know, I hear you yelling at me now. “WHY DID YOU DO THAT?”

My daughter said, “You shouldn’t have. You’ll regret it. Never feed the strays.” I defended my decision and said she was in a bad way. Well, that bad way only lasted a couple hours, because she was texting me for more money. I declined, then she texted for cigarettes. I declined.

But it didn’t stop. She has texted her father needed food and she had no food, so I went and got her some food. Yes, I did this. Always she said, “I’ll give it back to you. I promise. Monday.”

It’s now January, and not only have I gotten her milk, bread and smokes numerous times, taken left overs to her dad, got her food, she has borrowed pans, utensils and spices … never to give them back. I don’t expect any of it back, I just want it to stop. She’s not a mean person, she is a lost soul. And I’m a sucker.

As you can see I have included screen shots of the texts.  But alas, it has stopped, her phone is shut off. She now knocks on my door early in the morning, mid afternoon and at eleven at night. Saturday she knocked at midnight and told my daughter that not only are her and her father living there, but now her adult son, adult daughter and two grandbabies. She begged my daughter for milk and cereal. My daughter gave it to her. She said, “mom what was ai supposed to do, she had a baby on her hip.”

Tonight she knocked on every door at eleven PM for toilet paper.

It’s not weekly, it’s daily and sometimes hourly. There are four adults and two children living in a two and a
half room apartment and she says there is no money or food for the babies. I can’t leave my house without her asking for something. It’s getting insane.

As I stated before I am not looking for a payback or return of items, just a return to normalcy. I have continued to say no, but she continues to ask. If anyone out there is reading this, I am open to a solution.

Wednesday, January 15, 2014

Why Lodi, Ohio?

It's kind of funny. My book, The Flu has been out for a few years, and only recently have I been asked, 'Why did I pick Lodi?'

For those of you who have asked, THANK YOU.

So here I'll share the story ...

Awhile back, I was en route to Cleveland from Pittsburgh and my friend and I stopped there because we were looking for another little town around there. Seville, to be exact. All in Medina County. It was raining, and I still remember the song we played rolling into town. Kiss Me by Sixpence None the Richer.

Form the moment we pulled in, I just fell in love with it. It was everything you'd imagine a small town to be. The Gazebo, the perfect town square surrounding the small park, and back then a little white house that was the library. It had a sign on it, too. The sign said, "we have a computer;

There was a corner restaurant, for a while it was The Lighthouse, and then there was the Lodi Diner (I think that was the name). I got a mug from there.

And let's not forget the Corn Festival! The people are so nice. They have a festival every year.

Since that day in 1997, for years I would just take day trips up to Lodi. From Pittsburgh it was a little over 2 hours. Just a road trip. Weird I know. I'd pack the kids and tell them we were taking a day vacation to ... Lodi.

It's an obsession and I remember when I went there before writing The Flu, I was telling the lady at the restaurant about it, then I went to the new Library, and next thing I know the police are after me. The Chief of Police (Steve was his name) wanted to talk to me. Here there was a scandal and he was fearful my book was about him.

It wasn't. I'm linking an album to photos I took about six and a half years ago, when me and my boys took a trip to Lodi so I could do an interview with a local paper.

Since that day, I have included Lodi is SO many books.
The Flu
Flu 2
Road to Lodi
Call me Gideon
The Forgotten

Just to name a few.

Of course, I have taken liberties, and added some fiction to Lodi. After all, I do write fiction. But never to I ever portray Lodi in a bad light. Why would I? I love it. And it is the town I plan on one day moving to so I can be that crazy writer lady, everyone talks about.


Monday, January 13, 2014

The Epidemic that Slipped right in? Is this the 'Big One'?

Remember a couple months back when I spoke of the coffins being shipped to FEMA? I have another theory. Only this one has some frightening backbone. It’s scaring even me.

I started thinking and that led my investigation. You know .. what if … Google. How about … Google that.

Initially I thought, maybe the government has a keen foresight into a possible epidemic and doesn’t want to keep the coffins in the US. But honestly, would we notice the deaths of 20k? Tuberculosis kills over a million people a year. Did you know that? It’s an epidemic. It kills more than the common flu in its worst year, yet we don’t hear it.

But I think the flu is on the brink of being not so common and it is starting this year.

It’s often amazing, how stories get buried or barely make the front headlines. Important stories that can impact you and I. Maybe perhaps news sources don’t feel that they are important. Singularly they may not be. But together they are all part of the big picture and clues that we are missing.

Simply Google searches is all you need to do and you’ll be amazed at what comes up.

We had the Spanish Flu, Bird flu, now allow me to introduce you to Eagle Flu. Never heard of it, you may.

The normal Flu has a fatality rate of less than 1%,  Spanish Flu had a mortality of 3%, H5N1 (Bird flu) 100% birds, over 50% in humans. This new one may be bigger.

Kill rate of over 50% and it’s not slow. It’s fast, the only thing it has in its favor.

Simply search ‘mystery illness’ go on. Don’t take my word for it. Go on. I’ll wait.

In December of 2013, Bald Eagles began dropping dead from a mysterious illness, it didn’t make headline. Yet, starting at the same time, a mysterious illness caused people in Texas to get sick and die.

Neither story made headlines yet both deal with a mysterious sickness. It looked like the flu, but it tested negative.

Now days later ... there are reports of a woman in Ohio, a man in Pennsylvania, and now a football player in Florida … all deaths from mysterious illness.

History repeats.  The Spanish Flu reportedly started with Albert Mitchell, a cook in Kansas. The first human casualty of the Mystery Flu was a cook at Golden Corral in Texas. How easily a cook can spread a disease.

So now my conclusion on how this is connected to the FEMA coffins. Simply, it’s not an act of nature. It’s not God tossing out another plague. It’s man versus man, and it’s either the start of a biological infiltration or America doing it to itself to make it look like an attack. In either event, those in charge are aware that something big is going to happen.

America’s Demise.

What leads me to the conclusion that it is deliberate? That it is a weapon designed to bring the downfall of America? It started with the Bald Eagle. The Bald eagle is our symbol of freedom. It has fallen. 13 Bald Eagles to be exact were found. 13. How many stripes are on the American Flag?


Sunday, January 12, 2014

Sleepers Prequel 2: Jessie Speaks

Here is the second tale of the Sleepers Prequel.

Jessie Speaks.

There is a link to the Free PDF at the bottom of the page. Enjoy



‘Help me, Daddy. I’m trapped.’ Was the text message that Jessie Stevens got out to her father. Not because she firmly believed her father could miraculously appear from some thousands of miles away and pull her from the rubble. But because that was all she could think at that moment.
            Jessie was playing video games with her friends. At nineteen years old, she could have been like other college students that were away from home. Maybe partying, drinking, but that wasn’t Jessie’s style. She liked games. And the sun was ready to come up when they finished for the night.
            Never had a day gone by where Jessie hadn’t called and sent a text to her parents. She called earlier, but she hadn’t sent her ‘good night’ text.
            Even though she wasn’t doing anything wrong, she didn’t want her mother to know she was up all night. She simply sent her mother an ‘I love you’, and prepared to send her day a text.
            She had the message open, ready to type, when the ground rumbled and shook beneath her feet.
            For some unknown reason, Jessie held on to that phone as she made an attempt to get out of her eight story dorm building. She was still dressed and she tried, she tried her hardest. But the buildings weren’t designed to withstand all that seismic activity and it collapsed with her inside.
            She never lost consciousness and was aware the entire time. When Jessie realized the building was falling, she hurriedly climbed under a desk, clutched that phone and covered her head.

            She didn’t scream or cry. She just closed her eyes, protected herself as best as she could and hoped with all her might she survived.

Thursday, January 9, 2014

Sleepers Prequel 1: Beck's tale

Here is the first story of many in the Sleepers Prequel...

Beck's Tale
Beck is an amazing man, strong and quiet, dedicated. The world wasn't kind to Beck and this is story of what happened to Beck before he met Mera.


It had been the first time Gavin Back had been out of uniform in three weeks. It was the first weekend he had off in a long time. Being Executive Office at Ohio’s Army largest training base took its toll on his home life.
            But he had off. Finally. A weekend where the weather was supposed to be perfect.
            Beck had plans.
            One of them being to sleep in, but he couldn’t. His wife, Robyn, was always with the children and when his two month old son, Levi, cried his first ‘hunger’ whine of the morning, Beck was glad to handle it.
            It was his son. His pride and joy.
            Beck was a big man, six foot five, intimidating in bulk, and in comparison, his son looked like a baby doll in his huge grip.
            He changed the baby’s diaper, kissed his sleeping wife, pulled the covers over her and carried the baby into the kitchen. One arm, one forearm was all Beck needed to carry his son. Head cradled in his hand, Beck kept him close to his chest, like a football player, as he prepared the bottle.
            “You hungry?” he asked softly. His voice cracked as he did. Whispering wasn’t vocally possible for Beck. His voice was deep and trying to soften it only caused it to squeak and miss. “Yeah, you are.”
            He turned on the kitchen television to watch while he fed the baby, and as the formula heated, Beck brewed his coffee.
            His phone sat on the counter and he lifted it.
            Six missed calls? All from base.
            “Are you kidding me?” He grumbled and thought, ‘bottle for the baby, a sip of coffee, it can wait.’.
            The coffee was faster than the bottle, that new machine Robyn got brewed it in an instant.
            Beck took the cup, took a sip, and grabbed his wits.
            “Hey Daddy.” His daughter, only three, darted in the kitchen. Still in her pajamas, her ponytails tossed from sleeping.
            “Hey Sweetie,” Beck accepted a kiss. “You’re up early.” The baby squirmed in his arms, fussed vocally and Beck started to feed him.
            “No, silly. I always get up early.” She giggled. “Can I watch cartoons?”
            “Yeah, let Daddy have some coffee, make his call and I’ll get you food, too.” Holding the baby and bottle in a single wraparound grip, a task he was quite good at, he reached for the remote and that was when he saw it.
            Across the screen were pictures of devastation. The headline read, ‘earthquake in Seattle’.
            “Oh my God,” Beck said.
            “Are they hurt, Daddy?” Dakota asked.
            “I don’t  know––” his phone rang. “Damn it.”
            “You swore.”
            “I’m sorry.” Beck answered the phone. “Major Beck.” He sighed out. “No, Benson, I haven’t checked my voice mail, what’s up?” he paused. “National emergency, how is this affecting us it’s in Seattle …” Beck’s eyes widened. “How many?”
            “Twenty-seven? Are you serious?”
            “Daddy?” his daughter tugged on his leg.
            Multi tasking. Beck was good at it. He noticed the baby consumed a few ounces and placed him against his chest to burp him. “We’re mobilizing?” he spoke on the phone.
            Beck placed down the bottle and sipped his coffee as he listened. “Where are they putting the center? You don’t know.” He exhaled. “Get the Intel, have it ready, I’ll get dressed and be at base in an hour. Thanks.” He hung up. “What the hell is going on?”


The rest is FREE (just too big to post here) If you are interested in reading the story, please simply CLICK HERE, or right click download the PDF.



I have been getting a lot of emails and facebook messages about it, so I thought I'd address it here.

Sleepers (1, 2, 3) is alive and well and ... getting ready to awaken via the hands of Permuted Press.

2014 Brings you Sleepers 1, 2, 3, 4 and Sleepers: Respite.

On the eve of the re-release of the Sleepers Series, I have decided to do something different for those of you who have read it or plan to. I will be posting on this blog, a series of short stories, prequels, to Sleepers. They show the different characters, that we’ve come to love and know,  as they experienced the event that started the end of the world.

Sleepers is told from the POV of Mera Stevens and she meets some great characters in her plight. But we never see what happened to them before meeting Mera. Through the prequels you will.  I hope you enjoy them as we get ready (and pumped) for the Permuted Press release of the Sleepers Series. (And yes there is a Sleepers 4 – look for that here on this blog as well)

You are invited to bookmark or follow this blog, because in a few short hours, the first story will be posted … Beck’s Story.

Wednesday, January 1, 2014

Happy New Year

I know, I know, I haven’t blogged in forever. But like last year, I will resolve to try to blog more.
It’s that time of year and whether I have been blogging faithfully or not, I always do a resolution blog. Why? It helps me look back at what I did and didn’t do.

Actually, 99% of what I resolved to do, I actually did. Except the world peace thing. Yeah, admittedly, that was ambitious.

Ok, so here I am, making my resolutions.

In 2014, I resolved …

  • To blog more, tweet more and keep up with my book reviews. I know, that’s a ‘yeah right’
  • To write 7 books this year, including starting Zombie Battle: Requiem, Two new Beginnings books, Sleepers 4 and of course, Sleepers: Respite
  • I also resolve to make sure Beginnings gets a shot. I plan on querying production companies and big houses. It’s a good solid series. This is its year.
  • Exercise more. Yeah, I know, even if it’s dancing ten minutes a day. I want to do that.
  • Get back to drawing again, my cartoons weren’t too bad. Maybe a children’s book.
  • Learn to budget.
  • Be even more diligent with my website.
  • Get every Beginnings book available in Paperback.
  • Believe it or not, writing and life has made me a loner. I just keep to my couple friends and only go out by myself. I’m gonna try to change that.  Stop feeling so ‘burdened and anxious’ when someone outside my core group wants to get together.
  • And finally my ambitious resolution to make a million dollars.