A Message to My Hair Clients

First, I wish to apologize for loosing some of your numbers and e-mails. Secondly, I did not walk out or not show up for my shift. I gave a two week notice last Monday. And this past Monday, the manager called me requesting the shop key back and told me I was not needed to finish out the week. I know as of Monday, most of you have been told something different. Quite a few of you have called me.

And yes, I’m still doing hair. I moved to Fantastic Sams, located at, 13820 Little Rd. (at Hudson Avenue in the Publix Center). The phone number there is 727-869-9396. Also, I have a set schedule, Sunday 10-5, Monday and Wednesday 9-3, and, Thursday and Friday 2-8. You can also call ahead on the same day you wish to have your hair done to schedule an appointment.

I hope to see you all there and if I don’t, have a great holiday.

Shelly

My Field Trip to A Gun Shop

I’ve been meaning to do this post for weeks now, but once again life has weaved it’s tricks in. 

Several Mondays ago, my critters informed me that I didn’t know jack-squat about rifles, shot-guns, and handguns. Well, to be honest, they were correct. A gun is a gun to me. It doesn’t matter how it operates, it still fires holes into things, animals, and people.

Lila, the main character in this novel, doesn’t know anything about them either but gets a fast lesson on them from her best friend, Cynthia. If you’ve read her character blog, you’ll learn she’s got herself in a pickle jar. Her life is in danger.

So I visited my local gun shop slash shooting range, The Firing Line, located on 6123 Ridge Rd., Port Richey, Florida. Their hours of operation are Monday through Friday, 10 AM to 8 PM, Saturday, 10 AM to 6 PM, and Sunday, 10 AM to 4 PM. Phone number: 727-849-7457.

I wanted to shout out a big thank you to Rob for showing me the difference between a shotgun and rifle.

For your information:

Rifles have metallic cartridges that look like little missiles. They are single projectiles and the caliber tells what size it is.

Shotguns have many shots. They're encased in a cylander with many pellet-type objects. A gage determines the size of the bullets.

Either of these can be loaded via a magazine clip.

A small handgun is also known as a glock. One must aim and fire unlike the shotgun and rifle. When holding the handgun pretend your hand is entering a handshake. This can also be loaded with a magazine clip.

These are a few things I learned. This information helps when I watch YouTube videos on the subject.

And before I close this post, I can't stress enough on research for your fiction novels. Do not bullshit your way through a novel. Readers get mad when you do. Become as knowledgable as possible on anything you have no clue about. Yes, it takes time but better to be safe than sorry. You want happy fans of your novels, not ones that will have your head on a platter.

The Tissue Snippet

She looked down at the bedspread.“Well,” she said. “He’s died a couple times but the doctors brought him back.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? How could you keep that from me?”

“Shhh,” she said. “Hate it when you cry.” She jumped up and ran to the bathroom, coming back with a cheap, small no-named box of tissue. She pulled. It made a whoosh sound. She handed a wad of them to me.“Here, blow.”

I did.

“You know,” Cynthia said. Whoosh, whoosh, she handed me two more.

I took the tissue and blew my nose again.

“He and I had plans to sneak you onto a plane to Venezuela. But you derailed me every time, or should I say, your mother’s plans derailed me.”

“Okay. But why didn’t you tell me he died a couple times?” I asked, tossing my gob of used tissues into a wire wastebasket beside the bed.

“I didn’t think that part would matter.” Whoosh, whoosh. She tugged out two more tissues and dabbed at her eyes.

“Is there anything else you haven’t told me?”

She shrugged and looked at the tissue box.

“Cynthia,” I said, grabbing her shoulders, new tears falling on my face.

Her whole body frowned, and she slumped. “There’s water on his brain.” Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh. This time she yanked tissues out of the box and handed me one.

“Oh my God,” I sobbed.

She swabbed at her own tears with the other tissues.“The doctors are keeping him in a coma.”

“Why?”

Cynthia ran her hand under her runny nose. “Because they drilled a hole into his skull to relieve pressure from the fluid.” She took my hand off her shoulder, squeezed it, and sniffled. “I’m sorry, Lila. I should’ve told you sooner but I was afraid you’d—”

“Could he die and never come back no matter what the doctors do?” I asked.

“No, Lila.” Her teary eyes held mine. “I don’t know, but they’ve brought him back two times that I know of.”

“That explains the dreams.” I inhaled a slow breath and released it slowly.

Cynthia’s brows knitted together. “What are you talking about?”

“Julio’s visiting me in my dreams.”

Where I’m At

Well, I’m still writing and working out Lila’s stuff. You see, when someone like me, an aspiring author, does what we do, most times we have to work a day job. Sometimes those day jobs get in the way but we keep plugging along despite the curve balls. That’s what I’m doing.

I’ve got several more hills of editing and rewriting to do. Secondhand Shoes is rather action-packed. And to be honest, there aren’t too many resting points so I need to create some breather-chapters. I wouldn’t want any reader to pass out from a faint heart or because their blood pressure rose too high from reading the novel. I can remember a movie I went to see with my dad. He had to leave because his blood pressure went sky high and he needed a good dose of his meds to bring it back down. There  were no resting points for a good forty-five minutes.

So my friends, when will I be finished? Hopefully, soon. But I can’t publish something that’s not ready. It would be like eating a half-baked cake. That sounds pretty gross to me. How about you?

For me, it’s all about quality and entertaining you all properly….and to make you all happy campers. I never want my readers to have ask WTF?

My Critter’s Favorite Lines

The Creeps were on their way back. Crapity-crap-crap-crap.

Gram stood at the passenger side. “He thought he was being smart.” She held up a set of spark plugs. “Not everyone has a Gram to watch over them, you know.” She faded into the light as she dropped them into my hands.

My brain muddled memories of how to put the darned things in.

They didn’t seem to notice I was driving. They caught the backend of the Impala. When Vinny hung his arm out the passenger window to wave, I sped off leaving a trail of black smoke. Something Max would do.

Believe it or not, my critters have more favorites. Which one is yours?

Another Small Snippet

The following scene happens after Max and his motley crew catch up with Lila and her best friend, Cynthia.   They’re in a secluded swampy-pond area in the Florida backwoods.

 

Cockroach flipped out a Butterfly knife. “I’m going to use my favorite knife on you.” He drew air pictures with it, his lips pressing down on his tongue.

“I’m going to the truck now.” Coon muttered from behind.

Max shoved me forward. “All you had to do was act like you loved me. That’s all. You took a vow for better or worse, woman.” He pushed me again. I tripped over something sticking out of the mud and fell to my knees.

The black birds and the Cardinal chattered in a frenzy.

“Why’d you have to run from me? Why’d you spray that shit in my eyes? Why’d you steal my car?” His voice got louder and angrier with each question. “Why, woman?” He grabbed the hair at my nape where he butted me with the gun, pulling me up to my feet. “Why are you going to make me kill you, baby doll.”

The birds in the tree went silent again, their wings resting at their sides. A million bird eyes watched us all. Waiting.

Hair raised on the back of my arms and the scent of rosewater filled my nose.

Character Blog: Julio Velasquez

Julio Velasquez is Lila’s x-boyfriend. Unacceptable to Bab’s standards, mommy-dearest, made sure their relationship ended six months before she coerced her daughter into marrying Max.

Sometime before the Lila’s wedding, Julio was in a motorcycle accident.

Beep noises are filling my ears and all I can see is darkness. Sometimes familiar voices speak to me, but I can’t move. I heard the doctor say I was in a coma the other day, a medical induced one.

The last thing I remember was a broken heart I’d been trying to mend when I lost control of my motorcycle and crashed into a tree. Now my time is spent thinking about Lila and how I’m going to get her back.

And a strange thing happened, too. Her dead Gram visited me. Told me Lila’s in a heap of trouble after she married some creep named Max.

But, Gram says there’s a way. Body hopping into someone else's. All I have to do is astral project myself into a willing body. They’d go into my body and mine into theirs. One problem though, if I stay out of my own body too long it might die sending the other participant into the next world, leaving me trapped in theirs.

“Lila, if you can hear me. I love you. Always have and always will. And, I’ll do whatever I can to rescue you.”

Whoever this hot guy is, he would be perfect to play Julio. He’s got the same color eyes and skin. Anyone know who this is?