Saturday Snippet: Progress on Sea Dreams & Exciting News

On Saturdays, you can check out a snippet from my latest writing efforts.  All snippets are copyrighted.  These excerpts from my writing are first draft, unedited words, and may not appear in the final work.

This snippet comes from Chapter One of Sea Deceptions Book Three, “Sea Treasures.” As you know, I’m publishing Book One, “Sea Dreams,” just as soon as I finish the first draft of “Sea Treasures.”


Something about the salt water here reminded her of the ocean—a sense of depth belied by the fact that she could see floating lane markers when she turned and looked down. This is definitely a swimming pool, so why does it feel like I’m deep in the ocean? Her twisting motion disturbed the hand in hers. The salty scent of water comforted her, and she lazily stretched. A soft slap hit the water and tiny droplets scattered over her body, snapping her further alert. Her arm felt sore…bruised, and she wasn’t sure why. The hand holding hers tightened, and that sensation, too, felt familiar. Then why did she suddenly feel so forlorn?

“Maryn, are you awake?”

Maryn… Hearing her name brought back her awareness of self instead of all these disjointed memories of the past. She needed to be concerned with where she was and how she arrived here, not with high school swim competitions.

More than the words she heard, the sound of that voice triggered so much more remembrance. Long-buried memories—of anger, lies, and betrayal—flooded her at the sound of that rasping whisper, and she wrenched her hand away, pressing it to her head and trying desperately to will away the crashing thoughts.

A cry of pain—not hers—accompanied her movement, but Maryn couldn’t focus on it as confusing images flickered through her mind. She saw flashes of dark hair and a dark complexion, and her heart throbbed with agonizing recognition. Was this the face of one she’d lost? Was it someone she loved? Or was it someone who hurt her?


Maryn’s a bit confused. Have you ever woken up not knowing where you are?


Exciting News!!!

A short story of mine titled “A Step Through Time” has been accepted to an anthology, “Five Minutes at Hotel Stormcove.” Atthis Arts will be publishing this collection in May, 2019.

I am so honored to have my work chosen for this special collection. Through the editing process, I’ve gotten a sneak peek at some of the stories that are included, and you are in for a real treat.

The premise of the anthology is that the entire story must take place in five minutes, and the story must also occur somewhere on the premises of Hotel Stormcove.

Pre-order your copy of “Five Minutes at Hotel Stormcove” here.

Five Minutes at Hotel Stormcove

A Father’s Day for Building Memories

We’re home from a few lovely days in Orange Beach, Alabama. Generally cooperative on both car rides, the kids still made “are we there yet?” a constant refrain. D napped a bit but T couldn’t get comfortable. I remember road-tripping with my parents in the ‘80s, when we rode in the back of station wagons and could lay out across the bench of the backseat. I could nap pretty comfortably, and as one lovely older woman recently told me, her parents always said “we’ll get there faster if you sleep.” She and I agreed that maybe it was just a ploy on her parents’ part to get some peace and quiet while trapped in a small space with bickering kids for long hours.

Our trip was chockfull of good memories:

My father-in-law and I finally went parasailing. As the only height-loving adventures in the family, we individually longed to go parasailing but never managed to be on the same beach at the same time in cooperative weather and booking conditions. Until this week. While I was expecting a rougher ride, the boat portion of the experience was a bumpier experience than the actual aerial portion. (And the boat ride was just like you’d expect, a few bounces and not rough at all.) Perched high above the water, the boat now toy-sized, the swing harness lazily swayed as we looked down and out to the horizon. Cool breeze on our faces and a solitary peacefulness made me feel like I was on top of the world (certainly more than any Titanic passenger). Dad and I agreed that we could have stayed up there all day. The captain brought us down toward the end of our ride to dip our feet in the ocean before sending us up again and then bringing us back in. We can’t wait to go again. And now that we know that the age limit is 4, it won’t be long until our littlest adventurer, D, joins us too.

The kids got to ride on a small Ferris wheel too, a little ~100-footer, for the first time. They were riveted by my description of the Texas Star (from the Texas State Fair), which is roughly twice as high, and the fourfold-taller London Eye, which I enjoyed on a sunny October day back in 2007.

Although the ocean was plagued by masses of slimy algae, the sand was powdery white and soft. We enjoyed building sandcastles, race tracks, and burying a young wannabe mermaid, who impressed us with her fearlessness in the pool. You can see the fruits of our labors, including her tail and a castle-themed race track, in the picture. Shortly after, our resident demolisher, the “Devinator,” took care of eradicating our carefully constructed infrastructure.

Building Memories for Father's Day

Perhaps my favorite part was during our evening walks on the beach. D came with us but wanted nothing to do with actually walking in the cool sand, making the moonlight walk an actual workout for anyone hauling around a ~26-pound munchkin for over an hour. The first day we collected shells, with T and me finding small shells washing up with the waves. The second day, hundreds of stars glittered brightly over the ocean. We came upon some folks searching for ocean critters. They showed us their bucket, which contained a few small fish, a sand flea, and a very unhappily captive little crab. They even demonstrated how the sand flea burrowed in the sand and offered to let us hold the crab or pet the sand flea. Unsurprisingly, K and T didn’t want to touch anything, D was too sleepy, and I would have touched them except that I was on flashlight duty.

All told, this trip made some beautiful memories just in time for Father’s Day for my father-in-law and my husband. It’s bittersweet that I won’t get to tell my own father about parasailing or hold his hand walking along a beach. But when I think of his last few months, when I think of a friend who just lost her father to a protracted cancer battle this week, I can’t imagine prolonging his suffering just to selfishly keep him with me a little longer.

Previous Posts:

The Hardest Father’s Day