tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52221033171691607152024-03-14T01:30:52.127-07:00Ava MalloryAVA MALLORY writes laugh-out-loud mysteries with a side of Latin flair!
Viva la amateur sleuth!
avamallory.comAva Malloryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06472020903581415145noreply@blogger.comBlogger49125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5222103317169160715.post-54990307236437895332021-01-13T05:00:00.001-08:002021-01-13T05:00:03.635-08:00What to Read Next<p> </p><p>What kind of books do you like to read? Do you only read one genre or are you like me? I'm an eclectic reader. If it sounds good, will teach me something, make me feel something, will make me cry, laugh, sing, or all the above, I'm all over it.</p><p>Don't tell anyone I told you this. I'll deny it in court. (Kidding!) But I have two Kindles that have over 3000 books each on them. That's just the beginning. I also have what I estimate to be a few thousand books I've read, started to read, haven't read yet, or forgot I owned all over my house. I kid you not. Our house has more books than our local library. My book obsession is real.</p><p>With all these books, you'd think finding my next read would be easy, but you think wrong. I can make anything complicated.</p><p>True story.</p><p>I don't know about you, but my eclectic reading taste stems from needing to be "in the mood" for a specific genre or writing style. Like many people, at the beginning of the year, I am all about self-improvement, learning, growing, purging bad habits, or creating a new healthy habit. And since it's only January 13th (Happy Birthday to my #1 (first-born) child today!), you guessed it. I'm still in the honeymoon phase of the new year where everything is shiny new and bright. (Well, almost everything. I don't want to harp on politics, but let's just say, our national nightmare is almost over. My opinion. You can have your own and blog about it all you want.)</p><p>I found a 2021 challenge that really speaks to my eclectic reading tastes on the <a href="https://booklistqueen.com/reading-challenge-2021/" target="_blank">Booklist Queen's</a> blog. If you're an eclectic reader like me or want to join a 2021 reading challenge or just love books, Rachael at the Booklist Queen has everything you need.</p><p>Check out her page here: <a href="https://booklistqueen.com/reading-challenge-2021/" target="_blank">Booklist Queen</a></p><p>I don't know that I'll read 52 books this year, but I'm sure going to try. The first book I'm reading for this challenge is <a href="https://www.the1thing.com/" target="_blank">The ONE Thing by Gary Keller</a> </p><p>If you join the Booklist Queen's reading challenge or any other challenge this year, share your goal and what you're reading with me. </p><gdiv id="ginger-floatingG-container" style="left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px;"><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG ginger-floatingG-closed" style="display: none;"><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-disabled-main"><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-tooltip">Enable Ginger</gdiv></gdiv><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-offline-main"><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-tooltip"><em>Cannot connect to Ginger</em> Check your internet connection<br /> or reload the browser</gdiv></gdiv><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-enabled-main"><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar"><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-disable"><ga></ga><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-tooltip">Disable in this text field</gdiv></gdiv><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool"><ga class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-edit">Edit</ga><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-tooltip">Edit in Ginger</gdiv></gdiv><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-mistakes"><ga><span class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-mistakes-count"></span></ga><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-tooltip">Edit in Ginger</gdiv></gdiv></gdiv></gdiv><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-contentPopup"><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-contentPopup-wrap"><ga class="ginger-floatingG-contentPopup-close">×</ga><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-contentPopup-frame"><iframe scrolling="no"></iframe></gdiv></gdiv></gdiv></gdiv></gdiv>Ava Malloryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06472020903581415145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5222103317169160715.post-75261771647140984962021-01-10T05:00:00.000-08:002021-01-10T05:00:03.249-08:00How I Write<p> </p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I don't know who, what, where, or why, but somewhere along my almost 7-year journey into this writing gig, I received the distinction of uber-productive writer.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Cue maniacal laughter.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Daily, I invite authors to write with me. I post a daily writing post on my Facebook page and cheer authors on as they write. It's my thing. People look for those posts and enjoy "playing along". </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I'm a reluctant early riser. Lupus, an aging bladder, a brain that never relaxes are to blame. I have the most energy right after I wake up. IF I work out, I can count on my energy level remaining steady throughout the day. When I don't work out, I move slower than the slowest sloth. I spend most of my fighting to keep my head upright. So, when people applaud my productivity and discipline, I always look behind me because surely they're not talking to me.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I'm lazy and mostly unmotivated.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">You're probably wondering why I'm writing this blog post. I mean, I just admitted I'm not the most disciplined person. What do I have to offer the writers of the world?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Well, let me explain my imperfect formula for writing fairly consistently.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Are you ready?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">The answer is I have to fall in love with the story, a character, or the best-case scenario, both. If I haven't exercised AND fallen in love with some part of the story/characters, no workie for me. Not in any real way, anyway.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I need to give my unconscious time to come up with a story/character I like.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Sure, sure. I've written plenty of stories I wasn't in love with. Deadlines, commitments, fear of exposure are short-lived motivators, but the real crux of my sometimes-fail-sometimes-succeed formula is I do what I can when I can... unless I have a deadline then all bets are off. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">There it is in a messy nutshell, folks. I'm a fraud. 😊 If there is a magic formula, point me to it. </span></p><p><br /></p><gdiv id="ginger-floatingG-container" style="left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px;"><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG ginger-floatingG-closed" style="display: none;"><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-disabled-main"><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-tooltip">Enable Ginger</gdiv></gdiv><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-offline-main"><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-tooltip"><em>Cannot connect to Ginger</em> Check your internet connection<br /> or reload the browser</gdiv></gdiv><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-enabled-main"><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar"><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-disable"><ga></ga><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-tooltip">Disable in this text field</gdiv></gdiv><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool"><ga class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-edit">Edit</ga><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-tooltip">Edit in Ginger</gdiv></gdiv><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-mistakes"><ga><span class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-mistakes-count"></span></ga><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-tooltip">Edit in Ginger</gdiv></gdiv></gdiv></gdiv><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-contentPopup"><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-contentPopup-wrap"><ga class="ginger-floatingG-contentPopup-close">×</ga><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-contentPopup-frame"><iframe scrolling="no"></iframe></gdiv></gdiv></gdiv></gdiv></gdiv>Ava Malloryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06472020903581415145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5222103317169160715.post-28598723320673031142021-01-08T05:00:00.001-08:002021-01-08T05:00:04.191-08:00How to Set Reading Goals<p> </p><p>Did someone say reading goals?</p><p>Anyone who knows me knows how much I'm obsessed with making and hitting goals. Do I always hit them? </p><p>Nah.</p><p>Let's be honest. Goal setting is the easy part. We all think we're so much more disciplined and productive than we actually are. When we sit down to write out our goals, we envision having hours upon hours to sit with our thoughts, muse about how productive we are, and check off every item on our to-do lists with broad smiles on our faces and songs in our hearts.</p><p>Then reality hits.</p><p>The kids are whining. The pets are running amok. The husband/wife/partner/roommate is having a bad year and must detail every last second to you. The boss is on your back. Your BFF is blowing up your phone. You know the drill. You're pulled in different directions and that stack of books on your nightstand or all the books you've downloaded to your e-reader eagerly await your attention.</p><p>So, what do you do to fix that problem?</p><p>You create a manageable reading goal. That's what.</p><p>Goals of any kind have to fit into your busy life. They have to be a priority, otherwise, they don't get done. </p><p>How do you make it a priority? Where does it rank in between carting kids off to school or sitting with them as they learn remotely and say dinner?</p><p>Those answers come from you.</p><p>Look at your schedule (if you make one). If you don't, make a list of everything you do on an average day. EVERYTHING. Did you find time to scroll through social media during the day? Did you veg out on the couch while the children went down for a nap? (First of all, do children nap? What is this napping thing and does it work for teenagers?)</p><p>The bottom line is, yes, our days are full. We hit the ground running before the sun comes up. We're busy people, but most of us find time to check Facebook or Instagram, or on Twitter. Most of us catch an episode or two of a show we've seen a thousand times. </p><p>If you can find time for that stuff, you can find time to squeeze in a little reading every day. It doesn't have to be a lot. A few minutes before the kids open their eyes will work. How about dedicating ten minutes after the kids have gone to bed to read a chapter of a book? What about audiobooks?</p><p>I know there are many people who think listening to books isn't the same as reading them with your eyes, but I'm here to tell you to ignore them. Your parents or grandparents, teachers, and librarians read to you as a child. You absorbed the information then. Who is to say you can't do the same now?</p><p>Set a timer if you have to and read until the timer goes off. Read in the car while your kids are at practice. Read before you go to bed. Read first thing in the morning. Listen to an audiobook while you wash the dishes or fold the laundry or while you're on the treadmill or out running errands.</p><p>Figure out what works best for you, then make reading goals that work with YOUR schedule.</p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Happy Reading! </i></span></p><p><br /></p><gdiv id="ginger-floatingG-container" style="left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px;"><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG ginger-floatingG-closed" style="display: none;"><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-disabled-main"><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-tooltip">Enable Ginger</gdiv></gdiv><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-offline-main"><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-tooltip"><em>Cannot connect to Ginger</em> Check your internet connection<br /> or reload the browser</gdiv></gdiv><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-enabled-main"><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar"><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-disable"><ga></ga><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-tooltip">Disable in this text field</gdiv></gdiv><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool"><ga class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-edit">Edit</ga><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-tooltip">Edit in Ginger</gdiv></gdiv><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-mistakes"><ga><span class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-mistakes-count"></span></ga><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-tooltip">Edit in Ginger</gdiv></gdiv></gdiv></gdiv><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-contentPopup"><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-contentPopup-wrap"><ga class="ginger-floatingG-contentPopup-close">×</ga><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-contentPopup-frame"><iframe scrolling="no"></iframe></gdiv></gdiv></gdiv></gdiv></gdiv>Ava Malloryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06472020903581415145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5222103317169160715.post-44101386048479567442021-01-06T06:00:00.001-08:002021-01-06T06:00:00.440-08:00Am I depressed?<p> </p><p>Almost seven years ago, my life fell apart. It wasn't a perfect life. We (my ex-husband and I) weren't even pretending we were happy. We went through the motions. Correction. I went through the motions. He disconnected more and more every day. I saw it. I knew it was happening. I cried, yelled, begged, pretended it wasn't happening. But that's not what this post is about. That's old news. It happened. He left. No forwarding address. No phone number. (In a rage, I had his phone shut off.) He left and didn't look back. I, on the other hand, wallowed, and continue to wallow, in the pain.</p><p>I don't like it.</p><p>I try to ignore it, pretend I'm over it, live life as if none of what happened matters. But night after night, day after day, it's there. It festers under the service. It's behind the smile. It's masked by jubilant social media posts. That's my fault. I let that happen to me. I let that pain become as much a part of me as my curly hair and the dimples on my cheeks.</p><p>Deep down - hell, on the surface - I know I'm depressed. I can see it in my eyes. I hear it in the way my voice shakes sometimes. I feel it in my bones. I carry it like a dead weight on my heart. I let it corrode who I used to be.</p><p>That sorrow is actual weight on my body. The folds that were never there. The circles under my eyes from countless nights of replaying the years we spent together.</p><p>It doesn't matter that 90% of those days were miserable. Depression paints everything roses (for me). He was great. That's what I sometimes tell myself. He wasn't. He did everything for me, for our family. Another lie I tell myself when I'm in the throes of feeling sorry for myself and how I ended up alone. He didn't mean it. He made a mistake. The list goes on...</p><p>The reality is he hurt me. He hurt my kids. He doesn't think about us. He doesn't think about me. So, why do I allow him to live rent-free in my head? The answer is depression.</p><p>Last year was the year that equalized society. Sure, the political differences, the social justice issues, the orange former occupant of the White House did everything to send everyone around the world spiraling in a sea of lies, depression, aggression, rage, mania, etc., etc., etc. But what the year also taught me was that what I was feeling (still feel) isn't because of what someone (he who shall remain nameless) caused my depression. It was me. I was the one who didn't take action. I was the one who swam in the sea of what-ifs. I ate the cookies. I cried until the tears ran out. I yelled. I screamed. I did everything wrong. My body took major hits. My lupus flares were worse than ever last year. All the pain built up and seeped out of me like freshly drawn blood.</p><p>There were days I wanted to die.</p><p>Let that sink in. </p><p>I let something that someone did to me destroy me.</p><p>That's a shame I'll live with for the rest of my life. I'm stronger than that. That's what I always told myself. I'd survived worse. I won't even get into the real traumas of my life. I'll just say, it's a miracle I survived.</p><p>Today, this year, I will do what I need to do to work on my depression and see myself out of the abyss. I have to. It took a long, long time, but after the year that took so much from us, it's time to treat me better and move forward, one small step at a time.</p><p>If you need help, I implore you to seek it. The <span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">National Suicide Prevention Lifeline is</span></p><div class="KaciD" style="background-color: white; color: #3c4043; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px; padding-bottom: 16px;"><div class="y8KuKf" style="display: inline;"></div></div><div class="UTvhje" style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-family: "Roboto Light", Roboto-Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 40px; line-height: 50px; margin-bottom: 16px; white-space: nowrap;">800-273-8255. </div><div class="UTvhje" style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-family: "Roboto Light", Roboto-Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 40px; line-height: 50px; margin-bottom: 16px; white-space: nowrap;"><br /></div><div class="UTvhje" style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-family: "Roboto Light", Roboto-Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 40px; line-height: 50px; margin-bottom: 16px; white-space: nowrap;"><br /></div><gdiv id="ginger-floatingG-container" style="left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px;"><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG ginger-floatingG-closed" style="display: none;"><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-disabled-main"><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-tooltip">Enable Ginger</gdiv></gdiv><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-offline-main"><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-tooltip"><em>Cannot connect to Ginger</em> Check your internet connection<br /> or reload the browser</gdiv></gdiv><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-enabled-main"><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar"><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-disable"><ga></ga><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-tooltip">Disable in this text field</gdiv></gdiv><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool"><ga class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-edit">Edit</ga><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-tooltip">Edit in Ginger</gdiv></gdiv><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-mistakes"><ga><span class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-mistakes-count"></span></ga><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-tooltip">Edit in Ginger</gdiv></gdiv></gdiv></gdiv><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-contentPopup"><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-contentPopup-wrap"><ga class="ginger-floatingG-contentPopup-close">×</ga><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-contentPopup-frame"><iframe scrolling="no"></iframe></gdiv></gdiv></gdiv></gdiv></gdiv>Ava Malloryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06472020903581415145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5222103317169160715.post-37757256341136174312021-01-03T07:00:00.001-08:002021-01-03T07:00:04.634-08:00The Ultimate 2021 Cleaning Checklist<p> </p><p><br /></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I love the new year! New to me means a second chance, a do-over, an opportunity to reverse course or ramp up something good that you're doing. It's time to start with a clean slate.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">And speaking of clean...</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Wink. Wink.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">If you haven't already, this is a good time to organize and - wait for it - CLEAN!</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Listen, I'm a keep-it-simple kind of girl. I don't have time for weeklong cleaning projects. Who does, right? So, if the thought of cleaning makes you cringe, this is the cleaning checklist you need. I promise it won't hurt a bit.</span></p><p><b>For those of you who are everyday cleaners (Who are you and when can I expect you to, you know, clean my house?)</b></p><p>1. Make your bed as soon as you wake up. You can do it. It's a great motivator. If you accomplish nothing else, at least you made your bed.</p><p>2. After you make the coffee or tea, clean the coffee pot/maker or the tea kettle. Why? So it will be ready for you tomorrow morning.</p><p>3. Sanitize all surfaces you use daily like the kitchen sink, countertops, bathroom sink, toilet, bathtub, and shower. Keeping up with it daily with a quick clean up will make your life easier. Trust me.</p><p><br /></p><p><b>Weekly Cleaning Schedule</b></p><p>1. Clean the sheets. No explanation is necessary. Just do it. </p><p>2. Clean out the refrigerator. You don't want to be that person who opens their fridge and find spores from left to right. Clean it out. Dump the takeout you forgot you ordered last week. Get rid of that 1/4 ounce of a dessert you had two weeks ago. You don't need it. A quick clean out of old, spoiled, expired foods will do you good.</p><p>3. Set a kitchen timer for 25 minutes and get to work. Arm yourself with a broom, a duster, cleaning rags, the trashbin, and a vacuum cleaner and go through the house from top to bottom and clean it. One day a week will make a world of difference in your life. You'll feel better, more at ease, and ready to focus on living life if you do this weekly. Look at your calendar/planner and schedule a 25-minute cleaning sprint.</p><p>4. Laundry. Do the dreaded laundry. You need clean clothes.</p><p>5. My personal pet peeve. Clean your microwave. For real. Clean it. </p><p><br /></p><p>Monthly Cleaning Tasks</p><p>1. Clean your large appliances - the refrigerator, oven, freezer, washing machine, dishwasher, and dryer. Don't forget the vents.</p><p>2. Move furniture and clean under it once a month.</p><p>3. Clean out vents and the range hood.</p><p><br /></p><p>That's it, folks. Not too bad. These are easy tasks. If done regularly, you can get most of these done in minutes while listening to an audiobook, binge-watching your favorite series, or listening to your playlist. Who's ready to clean?</p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><gdiv id="ginger-floatingG-container" style="left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px;"><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG ginger-floatingG-closed" style="display: none;"><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-disabled-main"><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-tooltip">Enable Ginger</gdiv></gdiv><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-offline-main"><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-tooltip"><em>Cannot connect to Ginger</em> Check your internet connection<br /> or reload the browser</gdiv></gdiv><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-enabled-main"><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar"><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-disable"><ga></ga><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-tooltip">Disable in this text field</gdiv></gdiv><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool"><ga class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-edit">Edit</ga><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-tooltip">Edit in Ginger</gdiv></gdiv><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-mistakes"><ga><span class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-mistakes-count"></span></ga><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-tooltip">Edit in Ginger</gdiv></gdiv></gdiv></gdiv><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-contentPopup"><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-contentPopup-wrap"><ga class="ginger-floatingG-contentPopup-close">×</ga><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-contentPopup-frame"><iframe scrolling="no"></iframe></gdiv></gdiv></gdiv></gdiv></gdiv>Ava Malloryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06472020903581415145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5222103317169160715.post-2864709339712246832021-01-01T05:00:00.001-08:002021-01-01T05:00:01.507-08:00It's FINALLY 2021! <p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Happy New Year!</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;">And the world breathes a sigh of relief!</p><p style="text-align: center;">There's no looking back because looking back is equal parts heartbreaking and infuriating. I won't do it. I won't forget what we've been through, but I will do my darndest not to dwell on it. Not today Satan, as the saying goes.</p><p style="text-align: center;">I'm not good at resolutions, so I'm definitely not going down that route again. This year is all about one step at a time. I want my eyes forward, my head in the game, and my energy going to what makes me happy and what helps me achieve my quarterly goals. Yep, I said it. I'm only loosely planning one quarter at a time. That's a nice bite-sized chunk of this year.</p><p style="text-align: center;">Because I'm a firm believer in manifesting my dreams (with hard work, dedication, a little luck, & a lot of heart), I will share my Q1 goals with the world (or the one or two people who read this blog).</p><p style="text-align: center;">Here are my Q1 Goals, world. Let's make them happen!</p><p style="text-align: center;">1. I will fast draft three books in Q1. Fast drafting will get the stories out of my head, then the real work begins.</p><p style="text-align: center;">2. I will blog 3x per week; engage daily with my fans on social media, and focus on my relationship with fans because without them I'm just a writer who writes for no one.</p><p style="text-align: center;">3. My third goal is one I can't entirely control, but if I do the two items listed above as planned, goal three will fall into place.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;">Tell me. Do you set goals or make resolutions for the new year? Care to share any of what you have planned for 2021?</p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;">P.S. Want to read my books? (Of course, you do!) Follow this link: <a href="https://www.avamallory.com/books" target="_blank">Ava Mallory's Books</a></p><gdiv id="ginger-floatingG-container" style="left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px;"><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG ginger-floatingG-closed" style="display: none;"><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-disabled-main"><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-tooltip">Enable Ginger</gdiv></gdiv><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-offline-main"><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-tooltip"><em>Cannot connect to Ginger</em> Check your internet connection<br /> or reload the browser</gdiv></gdiv><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-enabled-main"><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar"><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-disable"><ga></ga><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-tooltip">Disable in this text field</gdiv></gdiv><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool"><ga class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-edit">Edit</ga><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-tooltip">Edit in Ginger</gdiv></gdiv><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-mistakes"><ga><span class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-mistakes-count"></span></ga><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-tooltip">Edit in Ginger</gdiv></gdiv></gdiv></gdiv><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-contentPopup"><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-contentPopup-wrap"><ga class="ginger-floatingG-contentPopup-close">×</ga><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-contentPopup-frame"><iframe scrolling="no"></iframe></gdiv></gdiv></gdiv></gdiv></gdiv>Ava Malloryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06472020903581415145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5222103317169160715.post-75170410409839027722020-11-12T15:12:00.000-08:002020-11-12T15:12:34.047-08:00Christmas Cookie Cozies is LIVE on Amazon!<p> <a href="https://amzn.to/35nZrsG" target="_blank">Buy Now!</a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKT3WsWT31HVFW2JF58Ggs50s4W6oP5UKmKoOD6KrDw8LFeyr-GyFJPWBHI2Agbq0psB1czxGvBRHgwNwvUGnWPDpWYqS2z3eHZWkCVWsZ-jjkMXB6uZp-Zk2RsQOiIG4Ocyu-syv52eQ/s1080/release+day.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKT3WsWT31HVFW2JF58Ggs50s4W6oP5UKmKoOD6KrDw8LFeyr-GyFJPWBHI2Agbq0psB1czxGvBRHgwNwvUGnWPDpWYqS2z3eHZWkCVWsZ-jjkMXB6uZp-Zk2RsQOiIG4Ocyu-syv52eQ/s320/release+day.png" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">My contribution to Christmas Cookie Cozies introduces brand-new characters in a brand-new cozy mystery world.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The title is Christmas Cookie Catastrophe.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Here's the blurb:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Blurb:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Consuelo “Cookie” Alvarez is great at a lot of things, but baking isn’t one of them. When she inherits a bakery from her favorite aunt, she’s dead-set on closing the business so she can pursue her dream of becoming a citizen detective and true-crime blogger.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">What she doesn’t expect is a letter from her late aunt asking her to take her place in the county-wide Christmas Cookie Bake-Off.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Now she has two weeks to perfect the super-secret award-winning recipe before the competition, but there are major obstacles in her way: she can’t bake, the recipe is missing, and her competitors are a who's who of shady characters with sticky fingers.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Can she fulfill Aunt Birdie’s wishes, or is this where the award-winning cookie crumbles?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Want to read an excerpt? Scroll down.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">“That’s a first.”</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">The baritone voice startled me. I’d not heard or seen anyone on Main Street as I drove in from the motel near the municipal airport this morning. I found the empty streets an odd sight to see. It’d been a long time since I’d visited the area. Things had changed in the quaint town of about eight-hundred residents.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"> I understood that. So much in my life had changed in the last few weeks.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Plum Cove was always aflutter with activity in the weeks leading up to the holidays. If ever there was a town that loved Christmas, this was it. Residents went all out with decorations. They’d hold a town-wide celebration. Carolers sang. Men and several women dressed as Santa or Mrs. Claus. Christmas was their thing. They did it well.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I looked at my reflection in the splintered glass on the front door of the bakery. The source of the smooth voice stood behind me, staring at me. He didn’t look like a serial killer. Not that I had any actual knowledge of what one should look like. But this man, dressed in full police officer garb, had a kind face. I could get lost in his hazel eyes if the circumstances were different. Call me naïve or out of my gourd, but my instincts told me I could trust him.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I flashed a smile at his reflection. No harm in being friendly, right? If he was a serial killer, the forced smile may make him think twice about making me his next victim.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">“Hi there, sir. I don’t understand what you mean. What’s first?” I asked as I turned on my heels to face him. I slid my hand into my coat pocket to pull out the pepper spray in case he proved me wrong. Even a person in mourning had a right to protect themselves from harm.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">A kind face was pleasant, but it didn’t quiet the voice in the back of my head telling me to keep my distance. What if he had a vendetta against women with zero defensive combat skills?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I’d watched the Ted Bundy documentary on repeat as research for my new true-crime podcast. I knew the boy-next-door good looks could mask his nefarious intent. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I flashed another smile. Not too big. Not too small. Enough of one to prove I wasn’t rude. I was like Goldilocks, only not as cute. My return to my favorite place on Earth wasn’t going as planned. I’d already had to scramble to find a motel room. Visitors had converged from all over to celebrate the holidays. As if I wasn’t under enough stress, someone swiped my purse from my room. Speaking to a stranger on the street, I knew I was seconds away from having my face on the back of a milk carton.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">The handsome officer’s eyes sparkled like dancing stars as he stared back at me. “Could you take your hand out of your pocket, please, miss?”</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">He spoke as if I’d done something wrong. The last I checked, putting my hands in my pocket wasn’t against the law. I could do what I wanted with either.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">He knitted his brows together as he waited for me to do as he said.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">“I’d rather not,” I said.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">He gritted his teeth.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">“It’s freezing out here. I’m not used to subzero temperatures.”</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">“Now, please.”</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">The firm tone worried me, but not enough for me to comply yet.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">He sighed and pursed his lips.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I went through a mental checklist of our brief interaction. As I checked all the boxes of things not to do when confronted by a police officer, alarm bells in my head went berserk.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">1. I’d paid no attention to my surroundings.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">2. I didn’t follow an officer’s commands.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">3. I fell for the all-American guy routine.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">4. I let the situation get out of hand.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">5. I let my emotions get the best of me.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">In my defense, he’d appeared out of nowhere and sparked a conversation. He wore a uniform, and well-fitting uniforms turned me into a blathering blowhard.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">“Do you have something to say?” he asked.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I pulled my gaze from his eyes and focused on the black uniform. I didn’t know if it was real and not. What if it was a costume designed to lure unsuspecting women? What if he was dangerous? I had to get away before things went south.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">“Nope. Nothing.” I glanced over his shoulder, hoping to find a witness or anyone to speak up on my behalf. I knew many of the people who lived here. I’d met them when I’d visited my aunt over the years. One of them could vouch for me.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">There were two vehicles on the road. Both drove at a snail’s pace in opposite directions.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">“Okay, well… thanks for the chitchat. Have a good day, sir.” I stepped back. The sound of glass crushing startled me.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I froze in place as the shards crumbled to dust under my weight.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">The officer smirked as his gaze floated to my oversized boots.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">“As much as I enjoy talking to strangers on a cool, crisp December morning, I’ve had my fill for the day. Thank you for stopping by, officer, but I’m good. Merry Christmas.” For some inexplicable reason, I turned my back to him. My head may have wanted to stay safe, but my feet had other plans. I stared at his reflection in the glass, hoping he’d take my words as his cue to leave, but he didn’t.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">He stared at me with one eyebrow arched. The vein on his temple pulsated. He pursed his lips.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Want to read more? <a href="https://amzn.to/35nZrsG" target="_blank">Buy your copy here</a></div><div><br /></div></div></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p></p><gdiv id="ginger-floatingG-container" style="left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px;"><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG ginger-floatingG-closed" style="display: none;"><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-disabled-main"><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-tooltip">Enable Ginger</gdiv></gdiv><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-offline-main"><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-tooltip"><em>Cannot connect to Ginger</em> Check your internet connection<br /> or reload the browser</gdiv></gdiv><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-enabled-main"><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar"><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-disable"><ga></ga><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-tooltip">Disable in this text field</gdiv></gdiv><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool"><ga class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-edit">Edit</ga><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-tooltip">Edit in Ginger</gdiv></gdiv><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-mistakes"><ga><span class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-mistakes-count"></span></ga><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-bar-tool-tooltip">Edit in Ginger</gdiv></gdiv></gdiv></gdiv><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-contentPopup"><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-contentPopup-wrap"><ga class="ginger-floatingG-contentPopup-close">×</ga><gdiv class="ginger-floatingG-contentPopup-frame"><iframe scrolling="no"></iframe></gdiv></gdiv></gdiv></gdiv></gdiv>Ava Malloryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06472020903581415145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5222103317169160715.post-23031595440372446242020-03-30T07:50:00.000-07:002020-03-30T07:50:14.517-07:00Win a Kindle Fire<br />
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Ava Malloryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06472020903581415145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5222103317169160715.post-52860958711103364762020-02-07T10:02:00.000-08:002020-02-07T10:02:10.932-08:00I'm Obsessed with Sleep<br />
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If you'd asked me forty years ago. I would've told you I'm well-rested. I was the kid who woke up at the crack of dawn, wide awake and ready to go. I'm still an early riser, but with a bit of strange twist. (Thank you, weak bladder and noisy children.)<br />
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According to my Fitbit (I affectionately call it The Tattler because it rats me out all the time.), I sleep an average of 1 hour and 39 minutes a night. Yep, read that again. That's per night! What is wrong with me?<br />
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I'll tell you. (Since you asked.)<br />
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I am a five-foot-one-inch on a good day ball of stress and anxiety.<br />
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I never used to be that way. Somewhere between, <i>Mom, can you give me a ride to the mall?</i> and <i>Because I said so, that's why! </i>I lost my way.<br />
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Sure, I could completely blame it on my roommaates. My children, I mean. I could also blame my ex-husband for it (and about a million other things along the way), but we don't speak about him. At least not on purpose. (Don't ask. I mean, seriously. Don't ask.)<br />
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I wear my Fitbit like I used to wear my wedding ring. It reminds me to get up during writing sessions and tells me when I've done enough for the day. (Okay, that's a fib. It's never told me I move too much. Like Shakira's hips, this Fitbit doesn't lie.)<br />
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So, what's on my mind, you ask?<br />
<br />
In no particular order (brace yourself):<br />
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All things associated with the kids: schedules, commitments, homework, health, doctor appointments, teenage angst, young adult drama, and everything in between<br />
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Deadline anxiety. Let's just say my deadlines and I have a complicated relationship.<br />
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Not sleeping. Like this is an obsession for me. I know I'm not sleeping and I'm perpetually angry about it.<br />
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Noise. I hate noise! There's so much of it in my house. I find the older I get, the more it annoys me. What does a girl have to do to get a little peace and quiet these days?<br />
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Also, cold sores-particulary the cold sore in my mouth right now-make me crazy. I never got cold sores before, and now, in the last month and a half, I've had two and I'm SO over it. I blame the children. (Kidding. Sort of. Maybe not. Oh, who knows?)<br />
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What's stressing you out these days? How are you sleeping?<br />
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P.S. Speaking of deadlines. Thrush to Judgment is available for pre-order for 99 cents on #Amazon right now. If I ever finish writing it, it's going to be amazing! Nighty-night. Just kidding. Sleep? Who needs sleep?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL0yDmWJ9lHw9fXXmJup5rr6YmtKhUf7yEpNm2PXaIxNhQHf_rqv4MhPlNuEsi0EPgXGMFpPm5OII8VVKAVUqQ0aBpDYi6NVs-H4F9_D4T2bFgqWI0XDdZkrM024QRwLld2cMiqWv8PKA/s1600/thrush+to+judgment.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1003" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL0yDmWJ9lHw9fXXmJup5rr6YmtKhUf7yEpNm2PXaIxNhQHf_rqv4MhPlNuEsi0EPgXGMFpPm5OII8VVKAVUqQ0aBpDYi6NVs-H4F9_D4T2bFgqWI0XDdZkrM024QRwLld2cMiqWv8PKA/s320/thrush+to+judgment.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<br />Ava Malloryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06472020903581415145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5222103317169160715.post-86368764012179636652020-01-30T09:19:00.000-08:002020-01-30T09:19:38.989-08:00Thrush to Judgment is Available for Pre-Order for only 99 Cents!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPy7aQ46EKnQ2AgTz98VZS0yE99VTBV3c344t7SbTXfdTUTBHmoC7h5tbQvRKM-yFUK5Bj48rtTxgsO2rDu2ah8E6WKH7RK8r82cuwsw34BbDJ65JwgHPt7IgSLjZngvAIPP1MsYXYjvA/s1600/thrush+to+judgment.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1003" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPy7aQ46EKnQ2AgTz98VZS0yE99VTBV3c344t7SbTXfdTUTBHmoC7h5tbQvRKM-yFUK5Bj48rtTxgsO2rDu2ah8E6WKH7RK8r82cuwsw34BbDJ65JwgHPt7IgSLjZngvAIPP1MsYXYjvA/s320/thrush+to+judgment.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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Blurb:</div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: start;">Veteran nurse Mercedes “Mercy” Mares didn’t ask for a change in plans, but after the hospital lays her off, she’s forced into it. Lucky for her, she has friends in high places.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: start;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: start;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: start;">When her best friend offers her a job at her new traveling nurse agency, Mercy jumps at the chance to see the world and meet new people. Unfortunately, her first assignment is anything but something to write home about.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: start;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: start;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: start;">The patient is an eccentric billionaire with about as much charisma as a fruit fly and a few too many quirks for her taste. Throw in his family, employees, and a cesspool of greedy associates, and this assignment is a disaster.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: start;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: start;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: start;">When one of them is found facedown in the Olympic pool, a few hours after a not-so-friendly exchange with Mercy, her visions of living the high life and escaping to exotic locations are dashed. If she doesn’t find the killer quick, she just may earn an all-expense paid trip to the slammer.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: start;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: start;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: start;">Find out how quickly Mercy’s life changes when she least expects it in the humorous cozy mystery prequel to the 12-book Mercy Mares Mystery Series!</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: start;">Reserve your copy before its March 3rd release date!</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: start;"><a href="https://amzn.to/2tFI3iV" target="_blank">Reserve Your Copy Now!</a></span></div>
<br />Ava Malloryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06472020903581415145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5222103317169160715.post-11941527581589412522020-01-24T06:40:00.000-08:002020-01-24T06:40:44.810-08:00Friday Fun<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW0ZWuhyphenhyphenjjtDjEpiQ6D2HvWK9WIGWLlXvAUFZF5oD5uo0WuhhTrzpGIj51GWadbTlnbMv2soxvjMSCziiwpTDjkR1nm8b2E5fTCu_Vfp_rrUVQkJM7rQ9Hl74ib5s6k5lNNHp1hVkQWuQ/s1600/1100_Winter_theme.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1047" data-original-width="1600" height="209" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW0ZWuhyphenhyphenjjtDjEpiQ6D2HvWK9WIGWLlXvAUFZF5oD5uo0WuhhTrzpGIj51GWadbTlnbMv2soxvjMSCziiwpTDjkR1nm8b2E5fTCu_Vfp_rrUVQkJM7rQ9Hl74ib5s6k5lNNHp1hVkQWuQ/s320/1100_Winter_theme.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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As the snow/rain falls where I live, I find my mind wandering. I'm a dreamer by nature. I can build an elaborate world out of nothing. Stories swirl in my head. Most often when I'm supposed to be doing something else.<br />
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Today, like most days, is filled with a long lists of tasks to complete, because deadlines are real. Real stressful? Yes. Real motivating? Yes.<br />
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I've checked what has now become my morning tasks off my list and am working hard to get my head in the game and get to the real work. You know, the one that pays the bills.<br />
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Before I sign off the interwebs for some much-needed quiet writing time, I want to share some things bibliophiles will find fun.<br />
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<b>First, Bewitching, the first book in my Beatrice Montoya Mysteries, is on sale for only 99 cents for a short time.</b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibk8RzR7K_Xzk-O1SDJWwP2EiRbY9ychOs2R-JUlK59uVy4yq7h1aC4doLLppLlJuTmO7n-ARMK1l8SfBFQSqc0WBd5gyiVXw77RsI_tWCpFMjaA3JPSJJwGCml9BB8z4HhL4Y5TRc0o8/s1600/new+Bewitching+cover+July+2018.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1003" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibk8RzR7K_Xzk-O1SDJWwP2EiRbY9ychOs2R-JUlK59uVy4yq7h1aC4doLLppLlJuTmO7n-ARMK1l8SfBFQSqc0WBd5gyiVXw77RsI_tWCpFMjaA3JPSJJwGCml9BB8z4HhL4Y5TRc0o8/s320/new+Bewitching+cover+July+2018.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Bewitching-Beatrice-Montoya-Mystery-Book-ebook/dp/B07GH9C44X" target="_blank">Buy or Borrow with KU</a></div>
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<b>Misbehaving is on sale for 99 cents!</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheUqp5p14OtjvHq4bDHFY1oTjRQnjBGMyhtOKm7XHO3vVuRnwnQvwiolysGluhoqbnOXvpAa5w3_ZE4z86wK-JLLISRJ4wQfTijgQM7phYvc_g6xJChubrDJD3zsynmUntwLfs6THKP08/s1600/misbehaving+cover+again.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="346" data-original-width="231" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheUqp5p14OtjvHq4bDHFY1oTjRQnjBGMyhtOKm7XHO3vVuRnwnQvwiolysGluhoqbnOXvpAa5w3_ZE4z86wK-JLLISRJ4wQfTijgQM7phYvc_g6xJChubrDJD3zsynmUntwLfs6THKP08/s320/misbehaving+cover+again.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://books2read.com/Misbehaving" target="_blank">Buy or Borrow with KU</a></div>
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<b>Thrush to Judgment, the prequel to the Mercy Mares Mysteries is available for pre-order for only 99 cents. Reserve your copy today!</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEnCdug1vR5j6AuTht7DDLsxDB63ZNHWoWex3pneUmWzlf2wPhOW5dWcLp5zuNJSncMKycDVENZQ6UK0l2PubQ5nvPeAd0AWJg0ZErACOkSAI0ZKP0JIYzSipCCLqWOoN8RH_Min_OHEg/s1600/thrush+to+judgment.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1003" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEnCdug1vR5j6AuTht7DDLsxDB63ZNHWoWex3pneUmWzlf2wPhOW5dWcLp5zuNJSncMKycDVENZQ6UK0l2PubQ5nvPeAd0AWJg0ZErACOkSAI0ZKP0JIYzSipCCLqWOoN8RH_Min_OHEg/s320/thrush+to+judgment.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://amzn.to/2tFI3iV" target="_blank">Preorder now!</a></div>
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Books, books, books! What's better than that on wintry Friday morning?</div>
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Happy Reading! 💓💓💓</div>
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<br />Ava Malloryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06472020903581415145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5222103317169160715.post-46587723644653363462020-01-22T07:32:00.000-08:002020-01-22T07:32:57.590-08:00Wellness Wednesday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE6XwO7kRmmydP3XJT_-tI8iAr0fiinGpG1LsmkE5FJl4ibQWwWnmdXMXkKDfluGMQRkDY0z59xl0rlZ6TpdjtT1m5n1-xvYnbiNoSVj170sb0zx4B_qV7esXvgJmE3skta48cTma-GGA/s1600/0427180746a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE6XwO7kRmmydP3XJT_-tI8iAr0fiinGpG1LsmkE5FJl4ibQWwWnmdXMXkKDfluGMQRkDY0z59xl0rlZ6TpdjtT1m5n1-xvYnbiNoSVj170sb0zx4B_qV7esXvgJmE3skta48cTma-GGA/s320/0427180746a.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
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I miss warm days. I miss being able to get outside and walk around one of my favorite places on earth. This park (see photo) is about five miles from my house, but it might as well be a million miles. There, there is no chaos, no children glued to cellphones or other devices (Well, there are, but they're not mine.) There is all about nature and serenity and getting some much needed exercise.<br />
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This whole writing gig is a solitary business. If you want nature, you have to make time for it. That's easier said than done with deadlines looming, words to write, editors and proofreaders to coordinate with, and of course, family and personal obligations.<br />
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I'm afraid I'm guilty of ignoring the outdoors. I let myself get into the routine of producing more work, meeting more deadlines, sitting for long, long stretches, then regretting it later.<br />
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On this cold winter day, I'm in my office (of course) eager to get outside. Who cares if it's only five-degress outside, right?<br />
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Whatever it is you do, make sure you don't lose sight of the things that bring you joy.<br />
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Time to put my shoes on and get out the door for a minute or two.<br />
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Coming this Saturday, January 25th!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8xmC_I7ohvk9pbd3hwbv4bIr_OpOqdetTQK7ocRXcRwNfw7j-fnTulCMnisSmfsy6kd5Fjh0NXmCE-QUeF0RECArQKTMSk2d5yrK03TIAVMuD7Z2Rti0_0SNm2L232ZI2EiC-3JdTbxs/s1600/vday+blue+preorder+promo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8xmC_I7ohvk9pbd3hwbv4bIr_OpOqdetTQK7ocRXcRwNfw7j-fnTulCMnisSmfsy6kd5Fjh0NXmCE-QUeF0RECArQKTMSk2d5yrK03TIAVMuD7Z2Rti0_0SNm2L232ZI2EiC-3JdTbxs/s320/vday+blue+preorder+promo.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Pre-order Stirring Up Love & Mystery today!</div>
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<a href="https://amzn.to/2t1LOPs" target="_blank">https://amzn.to/2t1LOPs</a></div>
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<br />Ava Malloryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06472020903581415145noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5222103317169160715.post-75015392315543877592020-01-17T04:49:00.000-08:002020-01-17T04:49:05.066-08:00Cozy Mystery New Releases<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyCsRyzb30Eade83A70NYRDUF_UZeYaTBt0kwf7SlL1AaUuwoD-daU1_PbCbyxcNhsX3YsCzGAY7Jz37ED0IR6-thVHsOBYXvVBH2rDcIlhQTz5WXeiuaRbHjLOnVy8QtjQ5dMJVotl_w/s1600/New+releases+.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="789" data-original-width="940" height="335" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyCsRyzb30Eade83A70NYRDUF_UZeYaTBt0kwf7SlL1AaUuwoD-daU1_PbCbyxcNhsX3YsCzGAY7Jz37ED0IR6-thVHsOBYXvVBH2rDcIlhQTz5WXeiuaRbHjLOnVy8QtjQ5dMJVotl_w/s400/New+releases+.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">See January New Releases here: <a href="https://writeravamallory.wixsite.com/avamallory/mystery-promos" target="_blank">https://writeravamallory.wixsite.com/avamallory/mystery-promos</a></td></tr>
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<br />
Nursing a never-ending cold is no fun, but you know what is fun? New releases! 💓 Check out the list of this month's (so far) new cozy mystery releases!<br />
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Happy Reading! 💓💓💓💓Ava Malloryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06472020903581415145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5222103317169160715.post-13596066015774359582020-01-15T14:49:00.002-08:002020-01-15T14:51:41.815-08:00Yea-Round Trouble is Available Now!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbZnC8b5xGCbYkzoc6Q7Rqj2yXkNOzNTVj6sumIiJ3i0o-HKVbjfjYKyPpDeRzZ3yE2i4GbKEn514NvDS_LFgh-Q5U9H_D0A3oVTZ88ceH9U3WGLgAT6WQGcKaR6QF6HW9aF0SScq7QfA/s1600/year+black+cat+trouble+promo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="502" data-original-width="960" height="167" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbZnC8b5xGCbYkzoc6Q7Rqj2yXkNOzNTVj6sumIiJ3i0o-HKVbjfjYKyPpDeRzZ3yE2i4GbKEn514NvDS_LFgh-Q5U9H_D0A3oVTZ88ceH9U3WGLgAT6WQGcKaR6QF6HW9aF0SScq7QfA/s320/year+black+cat+trouble+promo.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Available for e-book & print: <a href="http://books2read.com/YearRoundTrouble" target="_blank">Buy Now!</a></div>
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Did you buy your copy of Year-Round Trouble yet?</div>
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Here's what readers are saying:</div>
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<span class="_5mfr" style="font-family: inherit; margin: 0px 1px;"><span class="_6qdm" style="background-image: url("https://static.xx.fbcdn.net/images/emoji.php/v9/tb1/1.5/16/1f929.png"); background-repeat: no-repeat; background-size: contain; color: transparent; display: inline-block; font-family: inherit; font-size: 16px; height: 16px; text-shadow: none; vertical-align: text-bottom; width: 16px;">🤩</span></span><span class="_5mfr" style="font-family: inherit; margin: 0px 1px;"><span class="_6qdm" style="background-image: url("https://static.xx.fbcdn.net/images/emoji.php/v9/tb1/1.5/16/1f929.png"); background-repeat: no-repeat; background-size: contain; color: transparent; display: inline-block; font-family: inherit; font-size: 16px; height: 16px; text-shadow: none; vertical-align: text-bottom; width: 16px;">🤩</span></span><span class="_5mfr" style="font-family: inherit; margin: 0px 1px;"><span class="_6qdm" style="background-image: url("https://static.xx.fbcdn.net/images/emoji.php/v9/tb1/1.5/16/1f929.png"); background-repeat: no-repeat; background-size: contain; color: transparent; display: inline-block; font-family: inherit; font-size: 16px; height: 16px; text-shadow: none; vertical-align: text-bottom; width: 16px;">🤩</span></span> "A delightful collection of trouble."</div>
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"I Love Trouble!" <span class="_5mfr" style="font-family: inherit; margin: 0px 1px;"><span class="_6qdm" style="background-image: url("https://static.xx.fbcdn.net/images/emoji.php/v9/t43/1.5/16/1f970.png"); background-repeat: no-repeat; background-size: contain; color: transparent; display: inline-block; font-family: inherit; font-size: 16px; height: 16px; text-shadow: none; vertical-align: text-bottom; width: 16px;">🥰</span></span><span class="_5mfr" style="font-family: inherit; margin: 0px 1px;"><span class="_6qdm" style="background-image: url("https://static.xx.fbcdn.net/images/emoji.php/v9/t43/1.5/16/1f970.png"); background-repeat: no-repeat; background-size: contain; color: transparent; display: inline-block; font-family: inherit; font-size: 16px; height: 16px; text-shadow: none; vertical-align: text-bottom; width: 16px;">🥰</span></span><span class="_5mfr" style="font-family: inherit; margin: 0px 1px;"><span class="_6qdm" style="background-image: url("https://static.xx.fbcdn.net/images/emoji.php/v9/t43/1.5/16/1f970.png"); background-repeat: no-repeat; background-size: contain; color: transparent; display: inline-block; font-family: inherit; font-size: 16px; height: 16px; text-shadow: none; vertical-align: text-bottom; width: 16px;">🥰</span></span></div>
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<span class="_5mfr" style="font-family: inherit; margin: 0px 1px;"><span class="_6qdm" style="background-image: url("https://static.xx.fbcdn.net/images/emoji.php/v9/tc6/1.5/16/1f973.png"); background-repeat: no-repeat; background-size: contain; color: transparent; display: inline-block; font-family: inherit; font-size: 16px; height: 16px; text-shadow: none; vertical-align: text-bottom; width: 16px;">🥳</span></span><span class="_5mfr" style="font-family: inherit; margin: 0px 1px;"><span class="_6qdm" style="background-image: url("https://static.xx.fbcdn.net/images/emoji.php/v9/tc6/1.5/16/1f973.png"); background-repeat: no-repeat; background-size: contain; color: transparent; display: inline-block; font-family: inherit; font-size: 16px; height: 16px; text-shadow: none; vertical-align: text-bottom; width: 16px;">🥳</span></span><span class="_5mfr" style="font-family: inherit; margin: 0px 1px;"><span class="_6qdm" style="background-image: url("https://static.xx.fbcdn.net/images/emoji.php/v9/tc6/1.5/16/1f973.png"); background-repeat: no-repeat; background-size: contain; color: transparent; display: inline-block; font-family: inherit; font-size: 16px; height: 16px; text-shadow: none; vertical-align: text-bottom; width: 16px;">🥳</span></span>"My kind of trouble, my kind of fun!"</div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px; text-align: center;">
"Now THIS is a different kind of Trouble!"<span class="_5mfr" style="font-family: inherit; margin: 0px 1px;"><span class="_6qdm" style="background-image: url("https://static.xx.fbcdn.net/images/emoji.php/v9/t5b/1.5/16/1f60d.png"); background-repeat: no-repeat; background-size: contain; color: transparent; display: inline-block; font-family: inherit; font-size: 16px; height: 16px; text-shadow: none; vertical-align: text-bottom; width: 16px;">😍</span></span><span class="_5mfr" style="font-family: inherit; margin: 0px 1px;"><span class="_6qdm" style="background-image: url("https://static.xx.fbcdn.net/images/emoji.php/v9/t5b/1.5/16/1f60d.png"); background-repeat: no-repeat; background-size: contain; color: transparent; display: inline-block; font-family: inherit; font-size: 16px; height: 16px; text-shadow: none; vertical-align: text-bottom; width: 16px;">😍</span></span><span class="_5mfr" style="font-family: inherit; margin: 0px 1px;"><span class="_6qdm" style="background-image: url("https://static.xx.fbcdn.net/images/emoji.php/v9/t5b/1.5/16/1f60d.png"); background-repeat: no-repeat; background-size: contain; color: transparent; display: inline-block; font-family: inherit; font-size: 16px; height: 16px; text-shadow: none; vertical-align: text-bottom; width: 16px;">😍</span></span></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px; text-align: center;">
Grab your copy from your favorite e-retailer site here: <a data-ft="{"tn":"-U"}" data-lynx-mode="asynclazy" data-lynx-uri="https://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fbooks2read.com%2FYearRoundTrouble%3Ffbclid%3DIwAR32BSyG_VYU_bcU9VB02Jf0MTG3r_FCHBn9RWNfqT-jBLTf0quzjRTPzAQ&h=AT20C6Z_3O7HFmAjhZmfVAHisP5sAR3kVxss56N7tyH6lmmy6PgLFp_YtjqbwGhchuSsPX8UTwQfJXHpOo3MlCn-TXNVFlHQPMyZC_oC0KoWRPtgkSWvIKpwzIger270s6OfNXMMWbjQTrEtoXSEwOkOltD5J_fDkfEG9F9cElcrKjfTCw" href="http://books2read.com/YearRoundTrouble?fbclid=IwAR32BSyG_VYU_bcU9VB02Jf0MTG3r_FCHBn9RWNfqT-jBLTf0quzjRTPzAQ" rel="noopener nofollow" style="color: #385898; cursor: pointer; font-family: inherit; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">books2read.com/YearRoundTrouble</a></div>
</div>
<br />Ava Malloryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06472020903581415145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5222103317169160715.post-83201325789126845542020-01-11T16:29:00.000-08:002020-01-11T16:29:00.483-08:00Stirring Up Love & Mystery is available for pre-order now! <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUlNhv-_Qg9h6WFzNeudDu88-1tQ6wohTF3iyzdoFv8BLmoFq_KQWvDf6MyZt0xhchEyY3x3XY5UTlAwMnJkgTWIoFXEBuosGaTxXvxgtfQktNUb7uvyZcfDh0nq4amECAB5OInj_Gzes/s1600/vday+red+preorder+promo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUlNhv-_Qg9h6WFzNeudDu88-1tQ6wohTF3iyzdoFv8BLmoFq_KQWvDf6MyZt0xhchEyY3x3XY5UTlAwMnJkgTWIoFXEBuosGaTxXvxgtfQktNUb7uvyZcfDh0nq4amECAB5OInj_Gzes/s320/vday+red+preorder+promo.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Preorder your copy here: <a href="https://amzn.to/2t1LOPs" target="_blank">https://amzn.to/2t1LOPs</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span class="_47e3 _5mfr" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 0; margin: 0px 1px; vertical-align: middle;" title="heart emoticon"><img alt="" class="img" height="16" role="presentation" src="https://static.xx.fbcdn.net/images/emoji.php/v9/tf3/1.5/16/2764.png" style="border: 0px; vertical-align: -3px;" width="16" /><span aria-hidden="true" class="_7oe" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit; font-size: 0px; width: 0px;"><3</span></span> <span class="_47e3 _5mfr" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 0; margin: 0px 1px; vertical-align: middle;" title="heart emoticon"><img alt="" class="img" height="16" role="presentation" src="https://static.xx.fbcdn.net/images/emoji.php/v9/tf3/1.5/16/2764.png" style="border: 0px; vertical-align: -3px;" width="16" /><span aria-hidden="true" class="_7oe" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit; font-size: 0px; width: 0px;"><3</span></span> Coming soon! <span class="_47e3 _5mfr" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 0; margin: 0px 1px; vertical-align: middle;" title="heart emoticon"><img alt="" class="img" height="16" role="presentation" src="https://static.xx.fbcdn.net/images/emoji.php/v9/tf3/1.5/16/2764.png" style="border: 0px; vertical-align: -3px;" width="16" /><span aria-hidden="true" class="_7oe" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit; font-size: 0px; width: 0px;"><3</span></span> <span class="_47e3 _5mfr" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 0; margin: 0px 1px; vertical-align: middle;" title="heart emoticon"><img alt="" class="img" height="16" role="presentation" src="https://static.xx.fbcdn.net/images/emoji.php/v9/tf3/1.5/16/2764.png" style="border: 0px; vertical-align: -3px;" width="16" /><span aria-hidden="true" class="_7oe" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit; font-size: 0px; width: 0px;"><3</span></span></div>
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Something deliciously good just in time for Valentine's Day. Reserve your copy here: <a data-ft="{"tn":"-U"}" data-lynx-mode="async" href="https://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=https%3A%2F%2Famzn.to%2F2t1LOPs%3Ffbclid%3DIwAR3g33DzUV7-N6HjhCJXJa1D7W40n1-3BYsltyjmZKTSN6U4qCZ38Utznqk&h=AT16JTVLdjna8Rl6LIV0LRaal7wY6zDaFV0YkKqzZnBLF43TpEThS2Gajdjuuur_gne8TCwNNgQsC2CvM_3m1edhNhOdGq0xEbPjL83e1VwsIsa6x43kArgBH67GzU14luYayrw_ppxggxy8mJSk8R_ncK6zNgEx-DVPpsL49L4go8-rkOiLlgPimiyPk53ddfe_uzJH7YYIumH7gzRl-zTFzlSVVyaJDjLsGEN6bcn6fmBETacv67u2xG5hCHbXyp56JGVOJJeaQKTeO6A8eTPVT_j1Lyucm0hhmwz4wmV0sRSn5vM9vabXYEa2j4eeY3zwj1okdF7_Um888z7yzrXRl4jjGcr5HFL6QY8kPVFzMgpko9j1TlCo83uSRlXWvVtFwQoRRx7KnE5KBoC6o0UPt9Oyqp0i7wrWDtWTGt8xwh8aDwP-TVFmiVYLEpKtRMaE3zwki-22RP8-b9MOnLi5PjPxucS9gQhJ-ZTZnI0hYRxquFNLOy02g7Fj2hND9jNKgnq1df_yzzFrymI_3YgbT-pBiQLKuV5S141y7esfkJgoAKyN97lfPvlKFmtLhsNqW-B_uhWKDK8ZYU4mVZ0_M2-F4HA5IN65JEWU1yTbC0whJqB-7mkfxiE-E17dhGr5Fpzdj5BD2iLx-ugAw2lJ" rel="noopener nofollow" style="color: #385898; cursor: pointer; font-family: inherit; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">https://amzn.to/2t1LOPs</a></div>
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<span class="_47e3 _5mfr" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 0; margin: 0px 1px; vertical-align: middle;" title="heart emoticon"><img alt="" class="img" height="16" role="presentation" src="https://static.xx.fbcdn.net/images/emoji.php/v9/tf3/1.5/16/2764.png" style="border: 0px; vertical-align: -3px;" width="16" /><span aria-hidden="true" class="_7oe" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit; font-size: 0px; width: 0px;"><3</span></span> <span class="_47e3 _5mfr" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 0; margin: 0px 1px; vertical-align: middle;" title="heart emoticon"><img alt="" class="img" height="16" role="presentation" src="https://static.xx.fbcdn.net/images/emoji.php/v9/tf3/1.5/16/2764.png" style="border: 0px; vertical-align: -3px;" width="16" /><span aria-hidden="true" class="_7oe" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit; font-size: 0px; width: 0px;"><3</span></span> <span class="_47e3 _5mfr" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 0; margin: 0px 1px; vertical-align: middle;" title="heart emoticon"><img alt="" class="img" height="16" role="presentation" src="https://static.xx.fbcdn.net/images/emoji.php/v9/tf3/1.5/16/2764.png" style="border: 0px; vertical-align: -3px;" width="16" /><span aria-hidden="true" class="_7oe" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit; font-size: 0px; width: 0px;"><3</span></span> <span class="_47e3 _5mfr" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 0; margin: 0px 1px; vertical-align: middle;" title="heart emoticon"><img alt="" class="img" height="16" role="presentation" src="https://static.xx.fbcdn.net/images/emoji.php/v9/tf3/1.5/16/2764.png" style="border: 0px; vertical-align: -3px;" width="16" /><span aria-hidden="true" class="_7oe" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit; font-size: 0px; width: 0px;"><3</span></span> <span class="_47e3 _5mfr" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 0; margin: 0px 1px; vertical-align: middle;" title="heart emoticon"><img alt="" class="img" height="16" role="presentation" src="https://static.xx.fbcdn.net/images/emoji.php/v9/tf3/1.5/16/2764.png" style="border: 0px; vertical-align: -3px;" width="16" /><span aria-hidden="true" class="_7oe" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit; font-size: 0px; width: 0px;"><3</span></span> <span class="_47e3 _5mfr" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 0; margin: 0px 1px; vertical-align: middle;" title="heart emoticon"><img alt="" class="img" height="16" role="presentation" src="https://static.xx.fbcdn.net/images/emoji.php/v9/tf3/1.5/16/2764.png" style="border: 0px; vertical-align: -3px;" width="16" /><span aria-hidden="true" class="_7oe" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit; font-size: 0px; width: 0px;"><3</span></span> <span class="_47e3 _5mfr" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 0; margin: 0px 1px; vertical-align: middle;" title="heart emoticon"><img alt="" class="img" height="16" role="presentation" src="https://static.xx.fbcdn.net/images/emoji.php/v9/tf3/1.5/16/2764.png" style="border: 0px; vertical-align: -3px;" width="16" /><span aria-hidden="true" class="_7oe" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit; font-size: 0px; width: 0px;"><3</span></span> <span class="_47e3 _5mfr" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 0; margin: 0px 1px; vertical-align: middle;" title="heart emoticon"><img alt="" class="img" height="16" role="presentation" src="https://static.xx.fbcdn.net/images/emoji.php/v9/tf3/1.5/16/2764.png" style="border: 0px; vertical-align: -3px;" width="16" /><span aria-hidden="true" class="_7oe" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit; font-size: 0px; width: 0px;"><3</span></span> <span class="_47e3 _5mfr" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 0; margin: 0px 1px; vertical-align: middle;" title="heart emoticon"><img alt="" class="img" height="16" role="presentation" src="https://static.xx.fbcdn.net/images/emoji.php/v9/tf3/1.5/16/2764.png" style="border: 0px; vertical-align: -3px;" width="16" /><span aria-hidden="true" class="_7oe" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit; font-size: 0px; width: 0px;"><3</span></span> <span class="_47e3 _5mfr" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 0; margin: 0px 1px; vertical-align: middle;" title="heart emoticon"><img alt="" class="img" height="16" role="presentation" src="https://static.xx.fbcdn.net/images/emoji.php/v9/tf3/1.5/16/2764.png" style="border: 0px; vertical-align: -3px;" width="16" /><span aria-hidden="true" class="_7oe" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit; font-size: 0px; width: 0px;"><3</span></span> <span class="_47e3 _5mfr" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 0; margin: 0px 1px; vertical-align: middle;" title="heart emoticon"><img alt="" class="img" height="16" role="presentation" src="https://static.xx.fbcdn.net/images/emoji.php/v9/tf3/1.5/16/2764.png" style="border: 0px; vertical-align: -3px;" width="16" /><span aria-hidden="true" class="_7oe" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit; font-size: 0px; width: 0px;"><3</span></span> <span class="_47e3 _5mfr" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 0; margin: 0px 1px; vertical-align: middle;" title="heart emoticon"><img alt="" class="img" height="16" role="presentation" src="https://static.xx.fbcdn.net/images/emoji.php/v9/tf3/1.5/16/2764.png" style="border: 0px; vertical-align: -3px;" width="16" /><span aria-hidden="true" class="_7oe" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit; font-size: 0px; width: 0px;"><3</span></span> <span class="_47e3 _5mfr" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 0; margin: 0px 1px; vertical-align: middle;" title="heart emoticon"><img alt="" class="img" height="16" role="presentation" src="https://static.xx.fbcdn.net/images/emoji.php/v9/tf3/1.5/16/2764.png" style="border: 0px; vertical-align: -3px;" width="16" /><span aria-hidden="true" class="_7oe" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit; font-size: 0px; width: 0px;"><3</span></span> <span class="_47e3 _5mfr" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 0; margin: 0px 1px; vertical-align: middle;" title="heart emoticon"><img alt="" class="img" height="16" role="presentation" src="https://static.xx.fbcdn.net/images/emoji.php/v9/tf3/1.5/16/2764.png" style="border: 0px; vertical-align: -3px;" width="16" /><span aria-hidden="true" class="_7oe" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit; font-size: 0px; width: 0px;"><3</span></span> <span class="_47e3 _5mfr" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 0; margin: 0px 1px; vertical-align: middle;" title="heart emoticon"><img alt="" class="img" height="16" role="presentation" src="https://static.xx.fbcdn.net/images/emoji.php/v9/tf3/1.5/16/2764.png" style="border: 0px; vertical-align: -3px;" width="16" /><span aria-hidden="true" class="_7oe" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit; font-size: 0px; width: 0px;"><3</span></span> <span class="_47e3 _5mfr" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 0; margin: 0px 1px; vertical-align: middle;" title="heart emoticon"><img alt="" class="img" height="16" role="presentation" src="https://static.xx.fbcdn.net/images/emoji.php/v9/tf3/1.5/16/2764.png" style="border: 0px; vertical-align: -3px;" width="16" /><span aria-hidden="true" class="_7oe" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit; font-size: 0px; width: 0px;"><3</span></span> <span class="_47e3 _5mfr" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 0; margin: 0px 1px; vertical-align: middle;" title="heart emoticon"><img alt="" class="img" height="16" role="presentation" src="https://static.xx.fbcdn.net/images/emoji.php/v9/tf3/1.5/16/2764.png" style="border: 0px; vertical-align: -3px;" width="16" /></span></div>
Ava Malloryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06472020903581415145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5222103317169160715.post-36162974776961149442020-01-08T09:32:00.001-08:002020-01-08T09:32:32.189-08:00Commit to your Goals<br />
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<br />
It's that time of year. We all know it's coming. Many of us plan for it, get our one word ready, buy new planners, make to-do lists, do all the things necessary to prepare for what's next.<br />
<br />
I do.<br />
<br />
December was a race to the finish to check those things I'd ignored in 2019 off my to-do list. I made so much progress. I was a productivity maven. I was ready for the new year.<br />
<br />
Then, 2020 happened and a long Christmas break for the kids hit me like a bag of bricks to the bag of the head.<br />
<br />
Ouch!<br />
<br />
I had goals. They were multiplying. (Sing to the tune of You're the One That I Want from Grease.)<br />
<br />
The problem was even though I'd spent so much time in 2019 telling myself how productive and on task I'd be in 2020, I didn't think realistically about how "busy" (she says in quotes because no one should ever be too busy to pursue their goals) my life truly is.<br />
<br />
Here's the reality. It's cliche, I know, but if you want something bad enough, you will make time for it. You will sacrifice to meet your goal.<br />
<br />
Commitment issues are real. But when you sit down and think about it, it's not really fear of commitment. It's fear of disappointing yourself or someone else. It's not about the thing. It's about messing up the thing.<br />
<br />
I think that's where my issues (already) with my goals and my fail to pursue them as I intended lie. I fear not (insert goal). I fear everything I try will end in failure.<br />
<br />
Why is that?<br />
<br />
That's probably a question for a therapist? Maybe I should start seeing one.<br />
<br />
The point is, look at your goals. Break them down into realistic, bite-size chunks that fit into your life at this time. Make time for them. If that means you don't get to watch a new episode of The Bachelor when it's on, so be it. DVR it. Stream it later. Who cares? What matters - what truly matters - is how you utilize your time and what you do in the here and now to get one step (it doesn't matter how big or how small) closer to your goal.<br />
<br />
Are you ready to do this?<br />
<br />
I sure am.<br />
<br />
#dreamon #BeAGoalGetter<br />
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For more information about Ava Mallory or her books, visit: <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Ava-Mallory/e/B00KREP88S" target="_blank">Ava Mallory on Amazon</a><br />
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<br />
<b>Thrush to Judgment is available for pre-order now: </b><br />
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Ava Malloryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06472020903581415145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5222103317169160715.post-66451521623132007162020-01-03T17:29:00.000-08:002020-01-03T17:29:56.699-08:00The One About Nothing<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
<br />
I find my mind wandering on this cool Friday evening. I have work to do. I always have work to do, but I'm distracted by other things.<br />
<br />
I wish I could say I'm dreaming up the next great series arc or I've finally plotted my passion project, but those would be lies.<br />
<br />
No startling revelations here. My mind is all over the place. Nothing profound was realized today. (In case you weren't aware, I'm really not that interesting.)<br />
<br />
I'm dreaming of gym workouts (YAWN!) and fudge brownies (YUM!) and the weird redness on my cheeks (GROSS!).<br />
<br />
I caught a glimpse of myself in the rearview mirror today and YIKES! My rheumo tells me it has nothing to do with my lupus. My primary says it's an issue for the dermatologist. The dermatalogist shrugged and said (I kid you not) "So what!". That's how that cookie crumbles.<br />
<br />
Why blog about this? Well, because my social media posts give the impression that I'm uber successful and extraordinarily productive. I'm not. I ruminate. I play. I have to push myself to work. I'm like Pavlov's dogs. I respond to an alarm to signal it's time to end a task. Mainly, that's my trick to keep myself off social media. I set a timer.<br />
<br />
The lives of writers can be interesting. Fascnatingly interesting. Many, many travel the world for research or conventions. Many live on the high seas. (Talking to you Hugh Howey.) Many are nomads who climb mountains and swim with sharks and do all the things that make them Instagram influencer famous. That's all great for them. More power to them. But I want to believe there are some out there (like me) who have to pushed to get dressed for the day, let alone travel anywhere beyond their child's school or the grocery store.<br />
<br />
You see, for many of us, this writer life can be lonely, isolating, mundane to someone who doesn't right. As someone who spent their life wishing they didn't have to work for someone else, I can tell you with no hesitation, I'd much rather sit and dream about fudge brownies than sit in the boss's office, waiting for him or her to give you your annual review. No one needs that stress in their life.<br />
<br />
Don't get me wrong; there's nothing wrong with authors who work outside the home at "regular" jobs. That's fantastic for them. Everyone should do what works for them. For me, following orders, meeting other's impossible deadlines, and pretending like I always comb my air and wear normal clothing sounds like my idea of torture.<br />
<br />
Those are my thoughts for a Friday evening. Back to doing absolutely nothing until bedtime.<br />
<br />
#writerlife #authorlife #author #cozymystery #mysteries #productivity #daydreaming #psychology<br />
<br />
<br />
Have you pre-ordered your copy of Thrush to Judgment yet? Reserve your copy here: <a href="https://amzn.to/2MPI4av">https://amzn.to/2MPI4av</a><br />
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<br />Ava Malloryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06472020903581415145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5222103317169160715.post-82759485308161830332020-01-01T10:14:00.000-08:002020-01-01T10:14:48.022-08:002020 Goals!<br />
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<br />
Happy New Year! May your 2020 be filled with love, laughter, and light!<br />
<br />
Nothing excites me more than a do-over. I love them!<br />
<br />
Because I'm a planner girl, a lot of the excitement is all about the set-up, new possibilities, and building my dream. I can't get enough of it.<br />
<br />
This year, 2020, is all about peace for me. That's my one word. I want to demonstrate peace, feel peace, strive for peace in all I do, say, and think.<br />
<br />
Last year was a stressful one for me. I put a lot of pressure on myself. It's a sickness. I overschedule, over-commit, over think. My health and my sanity took a huge hit because I lived under a constant state of chaos and stress.<br />
<br />
I know better.<br />
<br />
Right here, right now, I'm promising msyelf to treat myself better.<br />
<br />
My Kanban board is all set-up with four sections - three dedicated to my writing business and one all about my health.<br />
<br />
If you're not familiar with Kanban boards, here's a great video by Sarra Cannon <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R8wbLgmNJbQ">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R8wbLgmNJbQ</a><br />
<br />
I'm telling you, this is a lifesaver. Mine isn't as big as her's, but it's functional for me. I used a smaller pink dry erase board and placed it on my desk, so I can keep an eye on my goals while I work.<br />
<br />
The planner addict in me has hit a new level, and I don't care what anyone else thinks. I'll be using 11 planners this year. ELEVEN!<br />
<br />
They're not everyday planners. Some will require more time than others, but they're all vital for me to execute what I have planned for the year.<br />
<br />
In no particular order, they are:<br />
<br />
<br />
<ol>
<li>A business (writing) planner. This one will help me keep track of release days, writing days, editing days, Beta readers, ARC readers, ads and promos, cover deadlines, blurb deadlines, and all the stuff that comes with running a writing business.</li>
<li>A health/habit tracker journal that I bought in Target's dollar section. </li>
<li>Not a planner but still vital, I have a journal that I bought at Target on clearance.</li>
<li>A Busy AF planner that I got for a steal on Amazon. That will be my catch-all planner. Everything that MUST be done will go in there. Everything!</li>
<li>A budget planner (also from Amazon) because one must know where they're money is going.</li>
<li>Christmas planner from Target's holiday clearance sale. I got it for 50 cents! Woohoo!</li>
<li>Social Media calendar. This is one I Frankenplanned out of two I bought from Dollar General. It has a dashboard layout. I can divide what I'm doing by time of day and/or social media page or channel.</li>
<li>An on-the-go planner that I'll keep in my purse.</li>
<li>Meditation/Gratitude planner for daily doses of something good. I'll start my day with meditation and showing gratitude. I believe this planner came from Dollar General too. You can be sure I got it on clearance.</li>
<li>A monthly calendar planner, the kind you get for a buck, to keep track of my bills and paydays.</li>
<li>Series/Timeline bible. Not technically a planner, but I used planner pages to build it. I found a pretty binder for a dollar at Target. Pretty planning note pages from dollar racks at the Dollar Store and Dollar General. Stickers from my stash, because I can't live without stickers. </li>
</ol>
<div>
That's my 2020 lineup. Like I said, I won't touch these daily, but I like having them to keep track of what's important to me. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I've said it before, but I'll say it again; this year is all about finding and keeping peace.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Happy New Year! </div>
Ava Malloryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06472020903581415145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5222103317169160715.post-60851023488886586352019-02-20T16:19:00.000-08:002019-05-15T07:02:28.122-07:00Witch After Time - Chapter One<br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /><br /><b>Chapter One</b><br /></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The way I saw it, I had
two options and neither of them was ideal. I could use a forbidden spell and
make this strange kid disappear or I could ignore my motherly instincts and let
him walk out the door with my one and only daughter.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Had I not said goodbye to my penchant for snooping, Camila
wouldn’t have thought she could make a run for it with a boy her father and I
never met. If I’d held on another year, this all could’ve been avoided, but,
no, I ignored my suspicious nature and embraced life as a <i>normal</i>. A lot of good that did me now. My kid had crossed the line
and broken our trust. Nothing would ever be the same again. From now on, I’d
never leave her side.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Mother?” she pleaded, but I needed a minute. I had to
wrap my head around what had transpired before I could respond accordingly. My
gut reaction never did me any favors in stressful situations. In fact, it
almost always made matters worse. I had to tread lightly or suffer the
consequences, which in this case meant, two more years of teenage girl angst.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The bright child who’d spoken her first word at five-months-old
said nothing about this kid to us. Not once. She hadn’t said a word before I made
a special trip to the grocery store for her because she was a vegan again today.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Man alive! When a teenager goes all Jekyll and Hyde, I
knew to be wary, but I let my guard down. That won’t happen again.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Did you hear me?” she asked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I resisted the urge to yell at her.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Mother?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">This afternoon’s events came back to me. I thought it
was odd she’d asked me for anything because she was so pleasant about it. She
even said, “thank you”, which for her, was a lot. After the last several
months, we’d learned she was no longer the polite bundle of joy I brought into
the world. These days she was more like <i>Attila
the Hun</i> on steroids but with better clothes.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I believed she’d made a change for the better. I thought
the “terrorizing teens” were a thing of the past—something we’d boast about on
homemade t-shirts. <i>I survived Camila’s
teenage years.</i> Boy, what a joke! Who knew how far she’d take things?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Had it not been for our keen-eyed next-door neighbor,
who’d spotted them in her backyard and called me to tell me about it, Camila
and her awkward Romeo would be long gone.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">What made this debacle mildly comical was Camila forgot
I wasn’t born yesterday. With two brothers before her, neither of them
particularly ingenious, I’d seen it all. Little went unnoticed in our household.
Someone would eventually squeal to gain leverage on someone else. That’s the
way my kids operated. The power dynamics shifted daily. <br />
Sometimes hourly.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Earth to Mother. Are you there? It’s me, your
daughter,” she groaned.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I arched a brow. “So, you like to live dangerously?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">She rolled her eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“How attached are you to those eyebrows?” I made a
cutting motion with my fingers.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">She gasped.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Don’t push my buttons. You’ve already buried yourself
in a deep, deep hole,” I warned.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I did have a third option to consider, but it was drastic.
Way beyond what my family could handle. Honestly, I wasn’t sure <i>I</i> could handle it. The last time I’d
used a deflection spell, things hadn’t gone as planned, and none of the witches
in my family let me forget it. Never! Family reunions, Sunday brunches, special
occasions, it didn’t matter. They found a way to work my epic failure into a
conversation.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Based on today’s events, I could see my long-term
relationship with bad luck was still alive and well. My inability to nip this
in the bud before it became a problem would embarrass my ancestors if they heard.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Only I would snub my family legacy right before a
major crisis. I abandoned my role in typical dramatic fashion. Some called it a
scorched earth moment, but in my defense, I didn’t start the fire, and no one
got hurt. I said goodbye to the witch life. Now I wish I’d held on a little
longer.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“She’s not even listening to me,” Camila whined to her
date. “How am I supposed to change her mind if she can’t pay attention?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Oh, the irony! I’d spent almost two decades of life
wondering if my kids had hearing problems. She had no right to complain about
me.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Reverting to old habits would come with a price. I was
out of practice and way out of my element. I’d never cast a spell on my
children, not even when they refused to sleep through the night. I was always
afraid I’d turn one into a goat, or worse, a witch.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I’d grown up hiding my witch ancestry, and it made
everything more complicated. Not only did I have to keep it from strangers; I
also had to hide it from the people I loved. That included my husband and his
family—the people I liked to call the Goon Squad because they behaved like a
bunch of entitled bullies.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">When you grow up in a house full of meddling witches,
you learn a lot about life, like how upside-down things can turn if you don’t
learn to control your abilities. That was one of my problems. Another was my inability
to keep my mouth shut when the Goon Squad made an appearance, which was more
often than I could tolerate. They were always eager to point out my flaws.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Fine. Since you can’t answer me, I’ll decide for
myself,” Camila declared.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">That got my attention. Her decision-making skills are
what landed us here.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“What did you say?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Nothing.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I narrowed my eyes. “Sure. Let’s go with that. Why not
add another lie to the mix?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“What’s your answer then?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">She didn’t know when to quit.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“That’s a joke. Right?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“No.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I turned away to collect my thoughts. So many scary
scenarios ran through my head. I couldn’t see anything but disaster at the end
of the road. Not that I didn’t trust the young man. I didn’t know him. I didn’t
know anything about him. He never gave me an opportunity to get to know him.
Encouraging my daughter to sneak out of the house wasn’t a great beginning. And
now I’m supposed to hand her over to him? I don’t think so.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">A spell could solve everything, though.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I shook my head at the thought. My secret would ruin our
lives. That’s not to mention what it would do to my husband’s mayoral campaign.
We didn’t spend the last two years pretending to be the perfect couple who’d
raised perfect children and made all the right decisions for nothing. Rob had
worked hard to win the nomination. It was my job to make sure things ran
smoothly at home. It was the least I could do after what happened last year,
but that’s a story for another day… years from now. Like when I’m dead.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Mother, please?” Camila pleaded with her amber-colored
eyes wide like serving bowls. How quickly times had changed. One day, she’s an
adorable curly-haired toddler, who couldn’t get enough of me. The next, she’s
dressed like a <i>Real Housewife</i>,
begging me to let her make the biggest mistake of her life with a guy who hadn’t
even looked me in the eyes yet.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">How did we get here? What had I done to deserve this?
I thought I’d have a little girl and she and I would be best friends. Two peas
in a slightly wacky, hilariously funny pod. When did she decide it was better
to be sneaky? How had I missed that? It’s like I blinked and the whole world
changed.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Can’t do it.” I glimpsed the discarded bags of
groceries on the floor. “Is that why you asked me to go to the store? You thought
you’d hightail it out of here before I came back?” Rage burned inside me. “Do
you know how humiliating it is to get a call from the nosiest woman in town
about something your kid did?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">She rolled her eyes. “That’s why you won’t let me go?
Because you’re embarrassed?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“You know that’s not what I said. You don’t get to
make this about something it’s not.” I took a breath. “What you did was wrong.
And you know what else?” She pursed her lips. “I think <i>you</i> know it was wrong. You wouldn’t have tried to sneak away if you
didn’t.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">She shuffled her feet as a smug grin grew on her face.
She thought she’d outsmarted me. She must not have understood I was a teenage
girl once too. And I was so much better at it than her.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">My downfall was my mother. She wasn’t like other moms.
She didn’t have the eyes in the back of her head thing. Nope. She had <i>much </i>more aggravating<i> </i>skills. Special, if you will. The one
she loved to use most was read minds. I could never get away with anything.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“That’s not why I asked you to go,” Camila protested.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Really? It’s not. This is what we do now? We lie, manipulate,
and—”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“I didn’t lie!” She raised her voice to a level she
knew would prompt a sharp reaction from me. To throw her off balance, I quelled
my anger and smiled. She tried again, “It wasn’t a lie. I never said I’d be
here when you got back.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Priceless. To think I’d waited thirty years to have a
little girl of my own. Four months of morning sickness and an eighteen-hour-long
labor and this is what I got in return?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“You said nothing about him, that dress, those heels,
prom, or anything else. I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but conveniently
forgetting to share your plans with your parents isn’t an adult way to behave.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">She rolled her eyes. That was her superpower. Too bad
for her, I had a few superpowers of my own—all of which wouldn’t help her win
this argument.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“No prom for you,” I said in my best angry soup guy
from <i>Seinfeld</i> voice.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Her body shook with teenage rage.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“And if you keep that up, you’ll never leave this
house again.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">She stomped her foot. “That’s so unfair.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Your abysmal communication skills are what’s unfair.
We make the rules. We decide if you leave this house.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">She held her breath.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I stifled my laughter.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">She exhaled a gush of air. “Dad’s never here. How am I
supposed to talk to him about anything?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Talk about a gut punch. We were all aware of how
little time her father spent at home, but he had good reason to be gone. He
wanted to make a difference in the world <i>and</i>
take care of his family. No one could fault him for that.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I didn’t trust my voice not to shake if I spoke, so I
arched a brow at her instead.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“You can’t do this.” Her tone shifted to a whiny
ballad like a sad old country song.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Was that the best she could do? Puh-lease!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“The answer is no. End of discussion. Game over. End
of the line. Better luck next time.” Satisfied I’d done the right thing, I
turned. I didn’t know this boy. I didn’t understand what his intentions were,
and I never gave her permission to go to prom.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">She looked at Prince Not-So-Charming as he wrestled
with a gnarly fingernail, then looked at me as if I was the one who’d told him
to put his finger in his mouth.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Charming,” I mumbled. “Now I see what the appeal is.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Mother! Can you not? Like, he’s right in front of
you. He can, like, hear every word you say.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Can I not what? Can I never let you out of my sight
again?” I mentally patted myself on the back for that one, then continued,
“Sure.” I blinked like the genie from the old television show—the one who lived
in a bottle and married the handsome Air Force guy. “There. It’s done. You’ll
never leave my side again. You and I will be besties.” I threw my arms around
her.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Boy Wonder belched, oblivious to the debate.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I was so taken aback by what Camila had on her back; I
hadn’t noticed his fancy get-up—black jeans, black Converse gym shoes, neon
green socks to match the stripe on the side of his head, an over-sized shirt
with a starched Dracula collar and a thin red Bolero tie with the devil
imprinted on it. Snazzy in a <i>Ducky</i>
from <i>Sixteen Candles</i> sort of way.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">In addition to his questionable style, his five
o’clock shadow made my eye twitch.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“How old are you?” I asked. I suspected he had a few
years on her based on the facial scruff.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Nineteen,” Camila answered for him in a tone that
made the hair on the back of my neck stand at attention.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">He winked at her like she’d done something adorable.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Did he not have one clue? Come on, even a toddler
could sense danger.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“And you’re still in high school?” I ignored the eye
roll from my young spawn. “Why? Did you start late? Get held back? Love high
school so much you couldn’t bear to leave?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Camila answered for him again, “Why do you have to be
so nosy? Yes, he’s still a student. He had to do the tenth grade twice. It’s no
big deal.” I arched a brow again. “It doesn’t matter. You don’t have to be the
smartest person on the planet to get a job these days. It’s not like we’re in
the Dark Ages.” I could see she hadn’t paid attention in Social Studies class.
“He plans to be his own boss someday.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Funny, I didn’t recall ever dropping her on her head.
Maybe I was wrong.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Camila made her next move, and it wasn’t a good one. “You
can’t convince her of anything when she’s like this. Let’s go before she finds
something else to yell at us about.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> “Excuse me? I
don’t recall yelling. Do you?” I asked the fake <i>Ducky</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Count Lackluster quirked a brow up like he didn’t
understand the words that had come out of my mouth. “Huh?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I took a cleansing breath before I blew up on this
man-child. “Let me try that again. This time I’ll say it a little louder and
slower so the people in the back can hear me. Do. You. Always. Let. Others.
Speak. For. You?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Nah, I can talk.” He sucked his teeth. “She don’t
have to talk for me.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">See? A real charmer. What was I worried about? He’s
the ideal guy for my daughter. He speaks so eloquently.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“You mean she <i>doesn’t</i>.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">He shrugged. “Yeah, that’s what I said. She don’t have
to talk for me. I can talk for myself.” He laughed. “See, I just did.” He
snorted as he spoke, “Get it?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Don’t blow up. Keep your cool, Mariana. He’s a child.
Remember the Golden Rule.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“So, explain. Why did you have to repeat your
sophomore year?” I asked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Apparently, that was a bridge too far for Camila
because her cheeks turned a deep shade of red. “Mother! That’s none of your
business. It’s like personal.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">If she said <i>like</i>
one more time, my head would explode.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The ever-present nagging voice of my late-mother
whispered in my ear, “Why are you worried about him? Look at the kid. I doubt he
can even tie his own shoes. He’s harmless.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“You can’t know that, Mama. You don’t know him. None
of us know him,” I blurted without thinking.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I got a reaction out of the future Rhodes scholar—small
but enough to make me rev up the crazy. “You will not take her anywhere
tonight, tomorrow, or any other night—at least not until she gets a refresher
course in how to communicate with her family. Is that clear?” Thankfully, he
didn’t question me about the Mama comment. The last thing I needed was for a
stranger to know I held conversations with my dead mother. I hadn’t even told
my family she was still with us. Why would I tell a kid I didn’t know?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Camila looked at me like I'd sprouted an arm out of my
head. “And you think I have a problem? Maybe you should, like, look in the
mirror. You, like, threatened a teenager. Isn’t that against the law or
something?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">She was brave in front of her little friend. Too bad
for her I wasn’t in the mood to indulge her.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I fanned my face to shoo unpleasant thoughts out of my
mind before I said or did something I’d regret.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“You’re a big, fat chicken,” Mama scolded. “I blame
your father for that. He coddled you. I told him that would come back to bite
us in the—”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I stepped away from the kids before they caught on to
our conversation. “Watch yourself, Mama. You want to see those pearly gates
someday, don’t you?” That almost always worked with her since her death. She
may have been ornery, but she wasn’t ornery enough to risk eternity. “Let me
handle this. And for the record, I’m not fat.” I stepped into the dining
room—close enough to keep an eye on the kids but far enough away that they
wouldn’t hear me.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“You’re not exactly skinny either.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“You would think death would make you kinder and
gentler.” I exhaled out my frustration. She wasn’t the one who’d upset me, but
she sure did like to push my buttons. “I don’t know why you always make me
remind you that Dad is still alive. You know that. I’m sure you mess with him
all the time too.” A thought occurred to me. “Have you?” I wasn’t sure I wanted
the answer, so I went back to the original question. “Why do you talk about him
like he’s gone? He’s alive and well. The last I checked, he was still very much
in love with you, so don’t talk about him like he’s a bad guy. He’s the best.
He loves you to the moon and back.” A lump of emotion nearly choked me. “Ugh!
Why do you make me do this?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Without me,” she said with a hint of sorrow in her
voice.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Do what without you?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“He’s alive and well without me,” she clarified.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Emotion welled in my throat.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Besides, he’s moved on. I see him. He stops
everything to watch what’s her name on television. When will he get it through
his head, it will never happen? She’s happily married.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Who?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">She clicked her tongue. “Don’t make me speak her name
out loud.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“You’re jealous of a movie star?” I never understand
how her brain worked. She could go on a tangent about anything. It didn’t
matter. When she got something in her craw, she never let go. “He hasn’t moved
on without you. He’s grieving. We all are.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">She clucked her tongue. “He has. You know how I know?”
I shrugged. “He put that ugly leg lamp up in my picture window. Do you know how
much I detest that lamp?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I knew. It was a whole <i>thing</i> for most of my life. My parents bickered like no other couple
ever had before, but they also loved deeper than anyone I’d ever met.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Kinder and gentler is for old people. What happened
to you? Just because you volunteered to bake cookies for the band doesn’t mean
you have to eat them too.” She laughed as if what she’d said was remotely
funny. “That woman is <i>Salma Hayek</i> and
she knows what she’s doing.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I’d forgotten about her issue with Salma. “Mama, he’s
not obsessed with her.” Was this for real? Did I really have to reassure his
wife of almost sixty years? “He thinks she looks like you.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Mama didn’t have an off button. If she had an opinion,
she made sure everyone knew about it.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“She wishes she looked like me!”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I couldn’t do this. “All right. Enough. She’s happily
married to a billionaire.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Fine. Whatever. Don’t believe me. When it happens, don’t
say I didn’t warn you.” She cleared her throat. “Anyway, Camila isn’t your
problem.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Then who is?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The sound of her laughter made my throat swell with all
the emotions I hadn’t yet allowed to come to the surface. I missed her so much.
Even though she was the biggest pain in my backside, she was also the person I
turned to for everything. Having her here in spirit wasn’t enough, though.
Sometimes I needed her to walk me through this whole parenting gig. I don’t
know how she did it. She and my father had six children. Six different
personalities. Six mouths to feed. Six kids with wonky attitudes and more
hotheadedness than a forest full of angry bears.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Your problem is your gut.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I shrugged. “In case you forgot, I got these curves
from you.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Not your curves. I mean your instincts. You don’t
trust yourself enough.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“I don’t know what that means.” She always suckered me
into a conversation. I poked my head around the corner to check on Camila and
her friend. Neither was interested in me. They both held their phones in front
of their faces, seemingly oblivious to each other.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Mama chuckled in that I-told-you-so way. “Yes, you do.
You always do. They told you they’d come back for you.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Who?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Camila poked her head around the corner. “What?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Huh?” I turned, embarrassed. “Who do you think you
are?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">She shook her head. “Can we get this over with
already? We don’t have all night.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Let her go. I’ll explain what I meant later,” Mama
said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I shook my head. “No, I can’t. If I do that, who knows
what she’ll try to pull next. Besides, when did you become the softy? You never
let me go anywhere.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“That’s because you never listened.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I covered my ears. It was better to keep my mouth
shut.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">She grumbled something unintelligible.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Bye, Mama.” I closed my eyes to get my thoughts
together and wait for her to leave.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">When I opened them, I found Camila and her friend locked
in a too-close-for-my-comfort embrace in the hallway.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Do you mind?” I signaled for them to separate. “Leave
room for—”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Ah, give it a rest. They think they’re in love,” Mama
said. “Don’t act like you and Rob never sucked face in public. I don’t know how
many times I had to spray cold water on you to tear you guys apart.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">That never happened. She always confused me with my
sisters. I never understood why. Both my sisters were heads taller than me and
entirely different people. They were Ying and Yang; I was Sasquatch.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Sigh all you want. It doesn’t mean I’m wrong,” she
said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“But you are,” I whispered.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">She ignored me. “Here’s what you have to do. Let the
girl go. It’s a dance, not a wedding. Drive them there. Who cares? The more you
protest, the more she’ll rebel. If you don’t want that kid to be your
son-in-law, act like it’s not a big deal. Trust me. I learned that the hard
way.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I gasped.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Oh, don’t act surprised. You remember how I felt
about Rob when I first met him… Well, not him—his father and the demon woman.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Rosie, his mother,” I corrected her. “She’s not a
demon.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Who? Me?” Camila turned in a huff. “You can’t call me
a demon. I’m your daughter.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“No one called you a demon.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Camila’s bottom lip quivered.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“See what you did? You made the girl cry,” Mama scolded.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“No, I didn’t,” I whispered. This was a disaster. As
difficult as it would be, I had to ignore my mother, or I’d lose my daughter. I
couldn’t let that happen. “Sweetheart, you are my baby. Me and you against the
world, remember?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">She sniffled.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I walked over and draped an arm over her
glitter-covered shoulders. “Never mind what I said.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“So, I can go?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“No. Let me finish.” The scowl returned to her face.
“If you’d done this the right way, I might have let you go.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“How am I supposed to do it the right way when you
never told me what the right way was?” She thought she had me, but she was
wrong.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“You think your father and I didn’t teach you right
from wrong?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">She signaled for her date to follow her out the door.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Don’t you dare.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">It was two seconds, but it felt like an hour-long
standoff before she chose her next move.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Mother,” she started, “I want to go. It’s a dance. We
have a limo and everything. You’re the one who always says not to waste money,
so why force me to waste his?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">My gaze floated down her flimsy dress to the stripper
heels on her feet.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Don’t say a word,” Mama warned.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Did you forget about what Harriet told us?” I asked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">That threw Camila off guard. We almost never spoke to
the kids about anyone associated with Rob’s campaign.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“What?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Let her go,” Mama said again. “She’s young. She’ll
learn.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I couldn’t believe these words were about to leave my
mouth, but I was desperate. My gut told me prom was a bad idea. “We promised <i>Harriet Not-the-Spy</i> we wouldn’t do
anything to jeopardize your father’s campaign.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Camila was a smart girl. She knew how much I detested
being handled by a woman who knew nothing about children, but Rob insisted she
was the best in the business. A scandal would ruin him. It was bad enough we
had to distance ourselves from his father’s dubious business practices. If
something went wrong tonight, not only would it net me a jail sentence for
killing Camila’s date, but it would kill Rob in the polls.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Seriously? I thought you didn’t like her,” Camila said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“I never said that.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Yes, you did.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I couldn’t think of anything to defend my sudden
change of heart. Desperation? Perhaps.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Okay, so just so you know, she’s the reason I decided
to go to prom.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Mama and I gasped at the same time.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Wait, what?” I asked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /><br /><br />Buy or Borrow with Kindle Unlimited here: <a href="http://mybook.to/WitchTime">mybook.to/WitchTim</a><a href="http://mybook.to/WitchTime">e</a></span><br />
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<a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07NGQZ7DK"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Buy or Borrow the A Witch in Time Mystery Series here!</span></a><br />
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Ava Malloryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06472020903581415145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5222103317169160715.post-35084588454466795572019-01-19T16:38:00.000-08:002019-01-19T16:38:36.501-08:00I'm Obsessed<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPlSjNPBQSuZQNoLdl0VjHpf_c0trDzAPycuNUZddgUgDEIWPWzk1sCd9FBg6vemO4cuVajRx3i9Y2_4UsywJHmtvmXT3tArUA19es-tE6q6Gd5MswAAF8d9uLFYOLMGP5EQ6Yxgs5JTU/s1600/1968+promo+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="801" data-original-width="502" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPlSjNPBQSuZQNoLdl0VjHpf_c0trDzAPycuNUZddgUgDEIWPWzk1sCd9FBg6vemO4cuVajRx3i9Y2_4UsywJHmtvmXT3tArUA19es-tE6q6Gd5MswAAF8d9uLFYOLMGP5EQ6Yxgs5JTU/s320/1968+promo+3.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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Image Credit: <span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", "Roboto Oxygen-Sans", Ubuntu, Cantarell, "“Fira Sans”", "“Droid Sans”", "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, "ヒラギノ角ゴ Pro W3", "Hiragino Kaku Gothic Pro", メイリオ, Meiryo, "MS Pゴシック", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 16px; letter-spacing: -0.4px;">Simplicity Home Catalog - Fall, 1968</span></div>
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I've researched places. I've researched names and crime scene details. They've fascinated me in every way, but I think I've hit the mother load when it comes to all things 1968!<br />
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Look at the party gowns above! Are they not to die for?<br />
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I can say that, you know. I write about murder on a daily basis. To. Die. For.<br />
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But wait! There's more!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ8LOhc4PucuRm8lyGmLv-XIJwFlAxmiFcxDZRaVAv2wmEBVTKGB1sLAzd7yyPZhPKywi-Kgmn9-b_61L_tclBaJu-T3uInVZTpyck6iPhcjSzCL81Dzd8M3qr2sXu2buKSsVSXVXimXI/s1600/1968+promo+13+julia+aired+then.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="397" data-original-width="400" height="317" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ8LOhc4PucuRm8lyGmLv-XIJwFlAxmiFcxDZRaVAv2wmEBVTKGB1sLAzd7yyPZhPKywi-Kgmn9-b_61L_tclBaJu-T3uInVZTpyck6iPhcjSzCL81Dzd8M3qr2sXu2buKSsVSXVXimXI/s320/1968+promo+13+julia+aired+then.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Image Credit: <a href="https://www.goldenglobes.com/tv-show/julia-tv" target="_blank">https://www.goldenglobes.com/tv-show/julia-tv</a></div>
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This image from the Julia series appeals to me because I used to be a nurse. When I was growing up, nurses still wore their whites with the Kay's cap. They were everything to me! Everything! And who didn't love Julia? She had <gwmw class="ginger-module-highlighter-mistake-type-3" id="gwmw-15479432381496355065525">heart</gwmw>. She was tough as nails and got the job done!</div>
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If you're not familiar with Julia, you can get more information here: <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0062575/fullcredits" target="_blank">Julia on <gwmw class="ginger-module-highlighter-mistake-type-1" id="gwmw-15479434022554970248307">imdb</gwmw></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6hDIImWKACouGXgP2wTaCfPUwKDG5sPml-6J8JNoy3PsbIwub5segX-RWVdJfl9w1ueRpioqlipstlOwLLWJNf64OpfJnyiZB1yPZ-qXvMB0-qItLlEq5FFxjU1cm4VClL7bCCph-uT0/s1600/1968+promo+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="285" data-original-width="236" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6hDIImWKACouGXgP2wTaCfPUwKDG5sPml-6J8JNoy3PsbIwub5segX-RWVdJfl9w1ueRpioqlipstlOwLLWJNf64OpfJnyiZB1yPZ-qXvMB0-qItLlEq5FFxjU1cm4VClL7bCCph-uT0/s1600/1968+promo+2.jpg" /></a></div>
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Image Credit: <span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", "Roboto Oxygen-Sans", Ubuntu, Cantarell, "“Fira Sans”", "“Droid Sans”", "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, "ヒラギノ角ゴ Pro W3", "Hiragino Kaku Gothic Pro", メイリオ, Meiryo, "MS Pゴシック", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 16px; letter-spacing: -0.4px;">McCall's - May, 1968</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", "Roboto Oxygen-Sans", Ubuntu, Cantarell, "“Fira Sans”", "“Droid Sans”", "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, "ヒラギノ角ゴ Pro W3", "Hiragino Kaku Gothic Pro", メイリオ, Meiryo, "MS Pゴシック", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 16px; letter-spacing: -0.4px;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", "Roboto Oxygen-Sans", Ubuntu, Cantarell, "“Fira Sans”", "“Droid Sans”", "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, "ヒラギノ角ゴ Pro W3", "Hiragino Kaku Gothic Pro", メイリオ, Meiryo, "MS Pゴシック", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 16px; letter-spacing: -0.4px;">These dresses! I can't love these more! </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUPnH_ZNNlPhCzcQQJSVC2mSGVKmqTBA1FMxfGRGE1wD6WNBSyG3V2SEU3KuqYtpoAX6pFQS-0ToPaZnY0Mz7Qt5ePL0kYKdo9W87UViibY-UXlCEEjtfhUFfZaoQpQOUxuL2YxAyaTt4/s1600/men+pants+1968.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="827" data-original-width="564" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUPnH_ZNNlPhCzcQQJSVC2mSGVKmqTBA1FMxfGRGE1wD6WNBSyG3V2SEU3KuqYtpoAX6pFQS-0ToPaZnY0Mz7Qt5ePL0kYKdo9W87UViibY-UXlCEEjtfhUFfZaoQpQOUxuL2YxAyaTt4/s320/men+pants+1968.jpg" width="218" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", "Roboto Oxygen-Sans", Ubuntu, Cantarell, "“Fira Sans”", "“Droid Sans”", "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, "ヒラギノ角ゴ Pro W3", "Hiragino Kaku Gothic Pro", メイリオ, Meiryo, "MS Pゴシック", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 16px; letter-spacing: -0.4px;">Check out this ad for Men's Trim <gwmw class="ginger-module-highlighter-mistake-type-1" id="gwmw-15479441665785176036713">Tapered</gwmw> Ivy's! </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", "Roboto Oxygen-Sans", Ubuntu, Cantarell, "“Fira Sans”", "“Droid Sans”", "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, "ヒラギノ角ゴ Pro W3", "Hiragino Kaku Gothic Pro", メイリオ, Meiryo, "MS Pゴシック", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 16px; letter-spacing: -0.4px;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", "Roboto Oxygen-Sans", Ubuntu, Cantarell, "“Fira Sans”", "“Droid Sans”", "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, "ヒラギノ角ゴ Pro W3", "Hiragino Kaku Gothic Pro", メイリオ, Meiryo, "MS Pゴシック", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 16px; letter-spacing: -0.4px;">I'll be the first to admit I don't know one single thing about what the guys were wearing in the late '60s. The '60s were before my time, but the research is a blast! Stay tuned for more 1968 fun and don't forget to pre-order your copy of Witch After Time to find out what happens when a modern day mom/retired paranormal crime-solver/psychic medium finds herself in the middle of a murder investigation in 1968 Chicago.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsiw1mS9c1PT6ssYJgiWTAYw57iuE43R-peprc3hyphenhyphenF6Rd9oXC-_ZePeTd4WIM0weV2wO9vKNNfiEaEXigNzQ2XFbCn6q6UpFledS3OWv2uWHyCx1P1RfMT9hVIATNd3TmGUCVU3KIkipE/s1600/Time+Promo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsiw1mS9c1PT6ssYJgiWTAYw57iuE43R-peprc3hyphenhyphenF6Rd9oXC-_ZePeTd4WIM0weV2wO9vKNNfiEaEXigNzQ2XFbCn6q6UpFledS3OWv2uWHyCx1P1RfMT9hVIATNd3TmGUCVU3KIkipE/s320/Time+Promo.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", "Roboto Oxygen-Sans", Ubuntu, Cantarell, "“Fira Sans”", "“Droid Sans”", "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, "ヒラギノ角ゴ Pro W3", "Hiragino Kaku Gothic Pro", メイリオ, Meiryo, "MS Pゴシック", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 16px; letter-spacing: -0.4px;">Pre-order here: </span><a href="http://mybook.to/WitchTime" style="font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", "Roboto Oxygen-Sans", Ubuntu, Cantarell, "“Fira Sans”", "“Droid Sans”", "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, "ヒラギノ角ゴ Pro W3", "Hiragino Kaku Gothic Pro", メイリオ, Meiryo, "MS Pゴシック", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol"; font-size: 16px; letter-spacing: -0.4px;" target="_blank"><gwmw class="ginger-module-highlighter-mistake-type-1" id="gwmw-15479445753848620382905">mybook</gwmw><gwmw class="ginger-module-highlighter-mistake-type-3" id="gwmw-15479445753840502468615">.</gwmw>to/WitchTime</a></div>
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<gwbm class="ginger-module-correctionBubbleService-mistake-type-3" id="gwbm-15479443678213375461997">a murder investigation<gwbmo><a class="ginger-module-correctionBubbleService-mistake-bubble-approve" href="https://www.blogger.com/null" title="Approve the Suggestion"></a><a class="ginger-module-correctionBubbleService-mistake-bubble-ignore" href="https://www.blogger.com/null" title="Ignore the Suggestion"></a></gwbmo></gwbm> in 1968 Chicago</div>
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Ava Malloryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06472020903581415145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5222103317169160715.post-9400847119033365692019-01-16T07:00:00.000-08:002019-01-16T07:00:02.316-08:00Along Came a Needle<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRmfhFULXStPJAWisk6_89iwckHRo6DfxYAEbBDy5AHmZX0CcbNaErBMDa0IMpMNcXCrwHihp11z2Gr2jtaZrkEvbUPqKJIYxkNNuuSlaULk5LqhyXDOl0gG-DKiW8e3Mh3cwAkfXU940/s1600/Along.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRmfhFULXStPJAWisk6_89iwckHRo6DfxYAEbBDy5AHmZX0CcbNaErBMDa0IMpMNcXCrwHihp11z2Gr2jtaZrkEvbUPqKJIYxkNNuuSlaULk5LqhyXDOl0gG-DKiW8e3Mh3cwAkfXU940/s320/Along.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Along Came a Needle is on sale!</div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://twitter.com/avamallorypens/status/1085341330572750848" target="_blank">Buy or Borrow Here</a></div>
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Some authors - not me - are really good about alerting readers to sales. The hard sell is like a mental block for me. I get so mixed up in what other authors are doing. I one-click my day away because they're all so talented. I'm blinded by my need for more books.</div>
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I'm pretty sure there is a DSM diagnosis for it. <span><gwmw class="ginger-module-highlighter-mistake-type-3" id="gwmw-15476051032540157162584">(</gwmw></span>DSM = Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders) That's not a joke. I have a degree in psychology. I worked as a psychiatric care nurse for many years. I know there's a name for it. I just can't pinpoint it yet<gwmw class="ginger-module-highlighter-mistake-type-3" id="gwmw-15476045168490326807215">...</gwmw>but give me time. As with any other thing I forget in a given day, it will come to me. Most likely in the middle of the night, when everyone else has already forgotten about the conversation.</div>
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So, all of this is to say, Along Came a Needle is on sale for only 99 cents.</div>
<br />
You're probably wondering how I can justify that awkward segue. <gwmw class="ginger-module-highlighter-mistake-type-3" id="gwmw-15476046709922858159974">(</gwmw>I'm the queen of awkward segues.) Well, let me explain.<br />
<br />
Along Came a Needle is about a nurse - my favorite nurse - Mercy Mares. She, like me, is in constant need of a vacation. When her two best gal pals surprise her with a weekend getaway, she reluctantly tears herself away from home and work. Within hours of their arrival, things go horribly wrong.<br />
<br />
The inn owner is dead. A handful of people, including Mercy and her gal pals, had access to the victim. And when the investigation begins, it appears more than one of them had the motive and the means to kill him.<br />
<br />
Buy your copy of Along Came a Needle to find out how this story ends!<br />
<br />
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<gwbm class="ginger-module-correctionBubbleService-mistake-type-3" id="gwbm-15476044521582897142468"> (<gwbmo><a class="ginger-module-correctionBubbleService-mistake-bubble-approve" href="https://www.blogger.com/null" title="Approve the Suggestion"></a><a class="ginger-module-correctionBubbleService-mistake-bubble-ignore" href="https://www.blogger.com/null" title="Ignore the Suggestion"></a></gwbmo></gwbm>DSM</div>
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Ava Malloryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06472020903581415145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5222103317169160715.post-29619811523285890472019-01-13T16:01:00.000-08:002019-01-13T16:01:57.703-08:00Celebrate!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbTsP5wQewymMvLYzaNc9RoT9xj7avb08f3xmIasD1OQL7bOHLkTEYrIGzz0ZMqZRJJfSXV2i4jWroLlZ2if26P2h2Td_FqjBuHNs6M5kdbQQBMbrxTZ47HiVOyxnSYZXSm2XXE_1PEqA/s1600/happy-birthday-wishes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="720" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbTsP5wQewymMvLYzaNc9RoT9xj7avb08f3xmIasD1OQL7bOHLkTEYrIGzz0ZMqZRJJfSXV2i4jWroLlZ2if26P2h2Td_FqjBuHNs6M5kdbQQBMbrxTZ47HiVOyxnSYZXSm2XXE_1PEqA/s320/happy-birthday-wishes.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Twenty-seven years ago, I gave birth to a human being. That's what I tell my son all the time. I went in blindly at all of twenty-two-years-old. I naively believed that natural childbirth meant you have the baby the natural way - meaning like a human being. Duh! Don't tell me. I know how ridiculously ridiculous that was. I should've asked someone.<br />
<br />
Well, when the time came at precisely ten p.m., right after a movie starring Pam Dawber started on t.v., my water broke. I didn't know that at the time. I mean, I felt something - obviously - but I didn't know that's what it was. I thought my bladder had given out. Again, I wasn't the brightest bulb in the box.<br />
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I quickly jumped into gear to clean up the mess and change clothes. After that, I marched my ignorant behind to the kitchen to grab the food I'd been craving for hours - peanut butter, chocolate chips, and tea.<br />
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For the record, anyone who knows me knows tea has never been my beverage of choice. (No offense tea drinkers. The coffee gods found me first.)<br />
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I ate that gastric disaster in a flash, then the contractions hit me. Hard!<br />
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At the time, my husband was deployed overseas. I'd just moved into a new house. My little sister (She was about 13 at the time.) was visiting over her holiday break from Spain. Let's just say, no one really thought things through in this situation.<br />
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Of course, neither of us had any idea what to do. All I knew is that those beginning labor pains were no joke. They hurt!<br />
<br />
Somehow - I don't remember how exactly - one of us called a friend. She showed up, calm as a cucumber and a little disturbed by the peanut butter/chocolate concoction. She drove me to the hospital. My labor pains went through the roof.<br />
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I have a distinct memory of begging her to take me to McDonald's, not the hospital. Don't ask me why because I have no idea what was wrong with me. (Do I need to mention how dumb I was in those days?)<br />
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By the time we arrived at the hospital, I'd realized my little sister wasn't with us.<br />
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WE FORGOT MY SISTER!<br />
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Let me just say panic and labor pains make for a deadly combination. I refused to let anyone touch me until someone went to get my sister and assured me she was fine.<br />
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Now, I don't recall many of the other events in order. I was a little preoccupied, but I do remember that I had a male nurse and I may or may not have been the nicest patient he's ever had.<br />
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I screamed bloody murder. I said things I'd never said before that day. I went berserk.<br />
<br />
That poor nurse tolerated me like a champ - I think. I know a few minutes before it was time to push, he held me under a warm shower and told me I was going to have the baby, I wasn't going to get McDonald's until I "mommed up", and no, he would not let me change my mind.<br />
<br />
To that patient and stern man, I'm sorry for anything I said or did that night. The good news is the kid I swore was gas and not a baby is alive and well. I didn't screw him up too badly. You, sir, are an angel, but a word of advice, the next time I demand McDonald's, get it for me.<br />
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Happy Birthday, Baby Boy/Man!Ava Malloryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06472020903581415145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5222103317169160715.post-4201619222918499552019-01-06T15:09:00.001-08:002019-01-06T15:12:26.428-08:00Ode to my To-Do Lists<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXrvNJ24LJlxlO6Ag5x8Jcby7V10ZeqPZ5jrKSUWMVGFkxDnzfx-StIk08wA_DrS8E-Y4vI2r1E9tW3jSnK6NJw0HnZL2SV2sUirn__T3FHM99QEgoqw_difZluO3FBbNPn_D34DzEOTg/s1600/feet+fire.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1097" data-original-width="1600" height="438" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXrvNJ24LJlxlO6Ag5x8Jcby7V10ZeqPZ5jrKSUWMVGFkxDnzfx-StIk08wA_DrS8E-Y4vI2r1E9tW3jSnK6NJw0HnZL2SV2sUirn__T3FHM99QEgoqw_difZluO3FBbNPn_D34DzEOTg/s640/feet+fire.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Okay, folks, I've said it before, but I must say it again. I am a list maker. The problem is I have so many lists and always struggle with which list to tackle first.<br />
<br />
Yes, I probably should make one master to-do list, but the thought of dozens of tasks on what (or several) sheets of paper gives me hives. Seriously!<br />
<br />
As I sit here on a Sunday evening, feet up, laptop in front of my face, Bears game going strong (Da Bears!), I find myself once again checking my lists and created a list for the new week. I can't help myself. To-do lists make me happy.<br />
<br />
If you've ever parented teenagers or tried to herd cats, you'd understand.<br />
<br />
I need a roadmap to get through the day, not because I have no idea what to do. There's always something to do. My need to list things is for the joy it brings me to check things off that list.<br />
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Pick up Male Child #1 from school. Check.<br />
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Drop off suit at dry cleaners. Check.<br />
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Write all the words. Check.<br />
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You don't want to know what happens when I don't make a handy list. Pure chaos, folks. Pure chaos.<br />
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All my fellow list makers unite! We have tasks to check off and, of course, new tasks to add. Get to it!<br />
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And, oh, yeah, Go Bears!Ava Malloryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06472020903581415145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5222103317169160715.post-55072364844055277972019-01-01T05:00:00.000-08:002019-01-01T05:00:00.561-08:00My 2019 Reading Challenge<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLai4u1Rd3qZsAGhTdujiMuoL-KsiuZYSAF6HZldBrBGTd_dsaMTf2PiOh7aizpf37PeMb5sxiDdtUwVNbkpQYisdNOhFA6pJnxz4i_Lb88-nPwRqljdQrL_LANhHLBj0giVoxfyvIZ08/s1600/Me+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="744" data-original-width="750" height="396" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLai4u1Rd3qZsAGhTdujiMuoL-KsiuZYSAF6HZldBrBGTd_dsaMTf2PiOh7aizpf37PeMb5sxiDdtUwVNbkpQYisdNOhFA6pJnxz4i_Lb88-nPwRqljdQrL_LANhHLBj0giVoxfyvIZ08/s400/Me+%25282%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me with my head in a book.</td></tr>
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My name is Ava and I'm an e-book (And print book!) hoarder. There, I've said it. They say the first step is admitting you have a problem. I'm admitting it.\<br />
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I have thousands - THOUSANDS - of books. Between two Kindles and mountains of books in every nook and cranny in my house, I could fill a library, like an actual New York City Library size library.<br />
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I'm that person.<br />
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You know the one who never saw a book she absolutely, positively didn't have to own.<br />
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Books make me happy.<br />
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I don't discriminate. I love them all.<br />
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Mysteries. Of course! Romance. Yes! Thrillers. Give me more! Nonfiction. Please! Fantasy. Why not! Horror. Want! Memoirs. I'm your girl!<br />
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I have to own all of them.<br />
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It's a blessing and I haven't quite figured out if it might possibly be a curse yet. But, like my very close personal friend (I wish.), Oprah Winfrey would say, what I know for sure is books bring me comfort. I must be surrounded by them.<br />
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Here's where the problem (if there is one), I have incredibly talented writer friends. Seriously talented. They entice me with their witty turn of phrase, humorous banter, and irresistible story lines.<br />
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I can't resist.<br />
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I must buy the books.<br />
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Now, you might say the solution is simple. I thought so too. I mean I could just pull a Nancy Reagan and just say no, but that's the thing. I can't!<br />
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I read a lot.<br />
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Currently, I'm reading - count them - one, two, three, four, five (?) different books.<br />
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Can you say addiction?<br />
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Then, to top it all off, I joined a book club. A real life, real people, have to leave my home to meet with them book club.<br />
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I know. I know.<br />
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Need I remind you?<br />
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I am a book hoarder.<br />
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So, since that's probably never going to change, here's what I've decided to do to both feed my love of great books and not have to shell out a small fortune to add an actual library onto the back of my house. I'm going to read like a madwoman.<br />
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Yep, you heard it hear first. I'm challenging myself to read all the books I currently own. I cannot buy another book until I've finished another. End of story.<br />
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It's going to be tough. My one-click trigger finger is already itching. I might not be able to resist temptation for long, but my hand on a huge stack of books, I promise to try. T-R-Y.<br />
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Wish me luck!<br />
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<br />Ava Malloryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06472020903581415145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5222103317169160715.post-40370807570976118112018-12-31T07:00:00.000-08:002018-12-31T07:00:04.533-08:00Farewell, 2018! <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIK-GvOKeIjy8VzPSlhK0kLpZWtBmNdyfIpCEkea420v3SvpeOs6EAimJMp4XukSwTxDFQN2nBJOwKl8fz_PW7vFUs5SfDnk_u0BjjoK54M0K6QkatBb23XBN3xODUyJfo2VI2FlCCIFQ/s1600/2018+review.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="800" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIK-GvOKeIjy8VzPSlhK0kLpZWtBmNdyfIpCEkea420v3SvpeOs6EAimJMp4XukSwTxDFQN2nBJOwKl8fz_PW7vFUs5SfDnk_u0BjjoK54M0K6QkatBb23XBN3xODUyJfo2VI2FlCCIFQ/s400/2018+review.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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There's something about the end of the year that gets me excited. It's kind of like when a new school year begins, except for adults. </div>
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I love a fresh start. It feeds my love of planning and plotting. The stores and e-retailers put out their new line of planners and calendars, and I gear up to dive in and beg them to take my money.</div>
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I'm that girl.</div>
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I have a planner for every aspect of my super busy life. I have a large author planner for all my business needs. (<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Ultimate-Authorship-Planner-Comprehensive-Entrepreneurs/dp/1732515123/" target="_blank">The Ultimate Authorship Planner by Audrey Ann Hughey</a>) In addition to that I have what I call my everything planner, a small purse-size planner, a planner to track my health and fitness goals, a mental health planner (gratitude, morning pages, the Miracle Morning exercises, and scripting pages), an extra-large desk calendar for calendar journaling, and a regular wall calendar to keep track of bills and school schedules and activities.</div>
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You see, I have a bit of an obsession.</div>
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That's not to mention my publishing calendar and my editorial calendar. Those I printed offline and posted on the cork-board in front of my desk.</div>
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I want to say I'm armed (with planners) and ready for 2019 to begin. The reality is things change quickly.</div>
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That's something I learned the hard way in 2018. I planned for a big publishing year, and to some extent, that's what I accomplished. I made the USA Today and the Wall Street Journal Bestsellers lists. (An absolute dream come true!) I also had the opportunity to collaborate with some amazing authors. I learned a lot from them. Our efforts helped to fund some much-needed causes, like the fight against domestic violence and meeting the needs of two no-kill animal shelters and a farm refuge program for pets.</div>
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Amazing feats. Amazing causes.</div>
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I also started to come out of my shell on many fronts. I'm a homebody by necessity. You see, I have lupus, and unfortunately, it has a mind of its own. The last year has been especially difficult for me physically. Let's just say lupus and I don't play well together.</div>
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I had many ups and downs with my kids. Learning to navigate parenting adults and a teen at the same time should include training classes. I find myself in that weird space between Mom! and Not You! We're still working out the kinks and probably will be for some time, but at the same time, I couldn't be prouder of the wonderful human beings they have become.</div>
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And in addition to the many, many things above, I also managed to publish a few titles. Nine to be exact. I call that a win.</div>
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You can find all the books in my growing catalog here: <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Ava-Mallory/e/B00KREP88S/" target="_blank">Amazon</a></div>
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I love my job! love the ability to tell stories that I love. It took many long years to get to a place where I feel like I'm exactly where I belong. Writers are my tribe. I've made wonderful friends in the writing and reader world. I'm forever grateful for the life I have and eternally grateful for the people I've met along the way.</div>
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So, with that, farewell, 2018 and watch out, 2019. I'm coming for you!</div>
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Happy New Year!</div>
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<br />Ava Malloryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06472020903581415145noreply@blogger.com0