Someone Always has to Piss in Someone Else’s Bowl of Cheerio’s

Well, Secondhand Shoes is not only a paper back but an ebook for Kindle now, on Amazon. The blog party will happen. Probably in February. I’ve got to put together some things first. Work gets in the way, you know.

My friend, Marcella and mwa at my silent book signing in Starbuck’s.

A lot of people in New Port Richey have been very supportive of me. I’ve sold thirty books and have given away two. So far, I have gotten rave responses.

“You are going to write a sequel, aren’t you?”

“Lila’s mom was sooo mean.”

“Your descriptions were awesome. I could feel everything your characters were feeling.”

AND THEN THERE WAS THE PISS-IN-MY-CHEERIO-BOWL-COMMENT:

“I haven’t had a chance to read your book. But my husband has. And he says the car in your book never existed back then.”

I said, “Really?” I didn’t feel the need to stick around and argue. Besides, she didn’t say which car and well…like I said, I didn’t bother to ask. It all struck me strange.

So as I got into my car, I got to thinking about all the cars I mentioned in the book. Because I know I lived in 1984. I was nineteen and married to a mechanic who owned a 1975 Impala.  The pic below is from the internet, of course. The one we had was burgundy colored with a black vinyl roof.

Anyway, the man was a genius when it came to cars. Not to mention, he loved them. He’d spend hours polishing and tinkering with them. He even built race cars from scratch for Tom Stiemenz.

The Impala we had, he reconstructed the engine for drag racing. It was truly an awesome car.

I also mentioned a Town and Country station wagon. My mom owned one and terrorized the streets in it. A real lead foot looney.

When I was a teenager, my first car was a 1971 T 37 Leman’s Pontiac. I bought it from an older couple for seven hundred fifty eight dollars. It had thirty thousand miles on it, in 1983.

My grandmother drove a chevette.

My brother drove a 1979 Trans Am. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find a pic for that one.

And almost every redneck boy in Manatee County drove either a Ford or Chevy monster truck.

Guess you all now know where I got my cars from. I thought I was writing about what I knew. ***shrugs*** It’s all good though. We can’t please everyone.

At least her husband read the book, right? Another writer friend reminded me of this.

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Before I end this, my good friend, author Lorelei Bell would like to give you all a peek of her new book cover to her third book in the Sabrina Strong Series.

Hugs and chocolate,

Shelly