P.S. Txt

Wondrous writers laying ideas out on coded paper.

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The Walking Dead Reactions: Saison 7, Épisode 1

Par Josée L.H & Sophie Villeneuve

*The Walking Dead spoilers*

C’est rare que ça m’arrive, mais quand ça m’arrive… je me sens vide. Je me sens vide et déprimée et j’ai l’impression que je ne serai plus capable d’être une adulte pour au moins une journée -ou plus. Pour d’autres, ça peut sembler ridicule, mais, pour moi, c’est difficile. Chacun a ses propres réactions et sentiments envers certaines situations. Des fois on s’attache trop. Et moi je me suis trop attachée.

 Après sept ans à les suivre, c’est normal aussi. Après sept ans de l’apprécier, de l’aimer, et de le perdre si facilement et brutalement… C’est difficile. Extrêmement difficile. On a eu quelques peurs, avant, mais ça s’est résolu. On pensait qu’il était invincible, même si on le savait que ça arriverait tôt ou tard… on espérait que ce soit tard plutôt que tôt.

 Glenn était, et sera toujours, mon préféré. J’étais très triste -mais soulagée- de voir Abraham partir. On ne s’attendait pas à une deuxième mort. Surtout pas comme celle de Glenn. Abraham l’a « pris comme un champion », mais ce n’était pas aussi « gore » que mon préféré… Son œil sorti de son socle… Il essayait de parler, de dire ses mots finals à sa bien-aimée, à sa Maggie. J’étais tellement sous le choc que j’ai à peine compris ce qu’il a réussi à marmonner.

 J’adore toutefois les personnages excessivement intelligents, charismatiques et cruels. C’est le genre de personnages que j’adore écrire dans mes récits. En plus, Negan a un langage coloré, tout comme moi. Ça me semble un peu masochiste, mais si je continue à regarder The Walking Dead, ce sera pour le regarder lui. De plus, il est TELLEMENT sexy !

 Pas comme Daryl. Lui, je ne l’aime plus. J’ai hâte qu’il crève.

It’s fitting for my first blog post be about The Walking Dead. I have been obsessing over the cliff-hanger of the last episode for months now. Re-watching the scene, trying to get the angle right, to figure out who got “Lucilled”. Over the last months, I got spoiled that Glenn died. Which was fine with me, I mean yeah it’s sad but I figured I would be okay. I was snack ready, gave a bone to the dog so she would be quiet and was ready to be there for my friend who is a Glenn fan. “you are it.” I was about to reach for her hand when the bat stopped in front of Abraham. This was not the spoiler I had read. A small yelped escaped my lips. (Don’t judge me, I don’t watch it; I let it consume my soul.) The redhead giant had fallen, he might have taken it like a champ, peace sign telling us it was okay along with one last Abraham one liner. I sat there dumbfounded waiting for the other shoe to drop. And it did, hard, bloody. Everything the comics had promised us.

Be careful what you wish for.

 I had wished and begged for a Negan that could rival the comics and we got it. “that’s the look I wanted to see” The breaking of Rick was hard to watch; even harder than the head bashing. This is a man losing everything he worked so hard for. Every second of Negan’s monologue was to bring us to this moment, the moment where the great Rick Grimes finally broke. If this scene was not good acting, then I don’t know what is. Stay tuned next week for more random thoughts from Josée and Sophie as they process The Walking Dead.

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Just the size of Montréal

By Josée L.H

You know the little kid’s ditty, the Halloween one?

 « Trick or treat

Smell my feet

Give me something good to eat

Not too big

Not too small

Just the size of Montreal! »

 This is the Canadian version apparently. To me, it's much more than just something kids sing for Halloween. The last part at least. It represents something so important for me: I know I love you so much…  but to an extent. My love for you is not too big, not too small, just the size of Montreal.

 I can’t love you less. It feels impossible to me. My heart pounds with the rhythm of our love and it's just starting. I wish it never ends, I hope my heart will beat for you until it stops beating altogether.

But I can't love you more than the size of Montreal. That's just too much. There wouldn't be room left for anything else. I need room in my heart for the fluctuating flow of friends, for my strong family bond, for my fur babies, for the sunsets and the sunrises and all the big and small beauties of the world. I also need some for myself. It's important to love ourselves; it makes life enjoyable instead of only bearable.

I do want everyone to know how much I love you. I want to scream it to the roof tops. I want to sit outside your windowsill with a boom box and blast love songs to you. That's the kind of crazy things you see in Montreal.

 Montreal is a decent sized city. Everyone knows about Montreal; it’s the city of fashion and history. And, of course, Montreal is a diverse city. You can find anything there. We are also diverse. One day we’re sitting on the couch enjoying TV, the next we’re on a road trip going to a dark-roomed restaurant with blind waiters. We follow our silliness wherever it takes us.

You can't really get lost in Montreal either. You just have to locate the nearest subway station and you can go anywhere. I just have to follow the yellow/green/orange/blue lines and it'll zoom me right back to you.

 That's how much I love you. My heart can't take loving you less because I’d miss out on all the small things you do for me, like bringing me some tea while I’m in the bath, or bringing your own blanket to bed to make sure you don't steal mine and keep me awake, or making me food (because I can’t feed myself properly) even though you do that all day at work and you’re so tired.

But I can't love you more either because the universe is so vast and so wonderful, and I need to see it, feel it, appreciate it for what it is. But still, that doesn’t hinder my feelings for you. I love you more and more every day and you are my one and only favorite.

 I love you “not too big, not too small, just the size of Montreal”. And that’s just perfect.

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1 Week in Non-Perishable Food Christmas Basket

By Josée L.H

A week in my project and I only forgot twice. Well, I forgot once and put one item in advance; in my defense, it was just before going to bed and I was exhausted that day. It went well! I never had to ponder for long about what I would put in my basket… and it’s already too small for the items I put in! I need a bigger box… or multiple small ones, whichever I find first.

 We don’t always know what we own. We are privileged enough to be able to acquire things in bulk, sometimes more than we actually need. I always overbuy. Maybe it stems from when I was young and we didn’t have much so I buy more and stock them. Just in case. (I do that in video games too!) I guess I’m the perfect candidate for this project then?

Every day when I thought about putting something in the basket, I would simply go to the pantry or the linen closet and look. Not even for a minute. Everything is over packaged now and wrapped individually. The environmentalist in me rages inside, but the philanthropist is a little bit more content since I can share one roll of paper towel at a time. These cost a fortune now!

 My process is calculated; I need to balance the food, the hygiene and the household items. Approximately one third household/hygiene and two thirds food. The food is immediate; you consume it whole whereas the hygiene and household items last for a while. The first days, it was straight to the pantry! Started with tuna I’ve had for a while (it was a six pack and this is the last one), a bottle of Coca Cola (from a 36 pack), my significant other’s Chef Boyardee Beef Ravioli can (I buy him a ton… I don’t know why he loves them so much), one pack of orange jelly powder (it was a buy 4 sale and orange is my least favorite to be honest), some ramen my significant other bought but never ate (I don’t like this one), some tissues (with lotion!) from a 12 pack (bulk for the win!), paper towels (from Costco, again… see the pattern?) and, finally, some maxi pads.

 I didn’t even know I had maxi pads; I mean a whole package. I was looking in the cabinet and found them; that’s not even what I was looking for! They are widely overlooked, but almost every woman needs some at one point. If I had a little bit more money I’d buy a Diva Cup to give away, but I don’t even own one myself. They are a smart investment!

As I was putting the maxi pads in my basket, I thought to myself… what did I buy recently? What did I use recently? A lot of common non-perishable things; Tylenol, toilet paper, chips, Ketchup, disinfecting wipes… I even found some medicine I bought and didn’t even remember. As a safety precaution because I was sick lately and didn’t feel like driving out (it’s starting to be cold outside!) while feeling miserable.

 I still feel good about this. I like the habit. I want someone else to be able to have the basic necessities I have access to every day. I don’t think I’m going to forget too often; this is a habit I actually care about. I am not a creature of habit, unfortunately for myself and others, but I will keep this simple gesture at heart. I will keep on giving.

 “A generous heart, kind speech and a life of service and compassion are the things which renew humanity.”

Buddha

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Day one of Non Perishable Food for Christmas Basket

By Josée L.H

Every year, I buy food and bundle up everything I have at home and don’t need for a Christmas Basket. In my area, we have what we call the “Guignolée”. Our whole province teams up and sums up generous volunteers to knock door to door and ask for non perishable foods and other necessities.

×          Diapers

×          Cleaning products

×          Canned goods

×          Tampons

×          Formula

×          Cough syrup

×          Toothbrushes

×          Much, much more…

 Imagine not having these bare necessities at home that everyone takes for granted. My parents have always contributed before me even when they didn’t have much to offer. They still had more than others so they gave a little. I do the same. This year, I am looking at this event differently; if I buy a whole box full of items at once, it can become quite expensive. So this year, instead of buying and giving everything all at once, I will put one article aside every day until the day of the donation. And then I will continue and give an even bigger contribution next year!

 I didn’t come up with the idea myself, I will not take the glory of such a wonderful idea. I saw it on Facebook as a meme. It circulated quite a bit, was really popular… but will people actually do it? I saw this meme approximately two weeks ago. That could’ve been 14 more items in my basket. But I forgot about it.

As I was making myself a coffee this morning, I saw the goodies I assembled for my dear Wrimos. I am participating in the Nanowrimo as a Co-Municipal Liaison and we MLs always prepare “Survival Kits” in which we place tea, coffee, hot coco… So I had these individual packages of instant coffee in front of me. My mind works really fast and linked the individual coffee packages to another bag of coffee I received as a birthday gift. Now I don’t like normal coffee, too strong and bitter for me. I like the fake French Vanilla kind. I wanted to see if the coffee gifted to me was instant and then it hit me. My subconscious went on full blast in my head -in my soul- and I remembered.

 I don’t have a single box in my apartment. I did have this little old basket though, so I went fishing for it. It was lost in a pile of junk I never touch… and maybe I should get rid of but am too attached to do anything about it.

I decided I will mark this day on my calendar. To fully commit to this fulfilling activity, I decided to share my experience with you, forcing me to put an item per day and if I forget for a day (or two… or ten) I’ll be able to trace back to the last day I put something in the basket and fill it as it is supposed to be. I will have witnesses (you) of my commitment.

 The picture above is the first item I put in. I like tuna. It’s healthy. I already have a couple of items lined up to be put in (paper towels, soup, coffee…), but I will resist the urge of taking them now. I like the idea of a ritual of giving -helping- a little every day. Most of what is going in the basket is what I already have at home. I have the tendency to over buy or buy in bulk (thanks to you Costco) or just forget I have some items somewhere in the pantry or linen closet where I store the cleaning products and other non food items. I am excited as I am taking this as another project, one that does not require too much thinking or effort, but has an everlasting effect.

 Here is a quote I appreciate:

“We make a living by what me get, but we make a life by what we give”

Winston Churchill

What are your thoughts? Are you inspired and will try it out yourself? If you are not a Christmas person, it can be for any food drive! You can also modify the whole project and give one item per day to someone you see in need. You don’t have to give it all away on one occasion; you can build up care packages every month, for example. It’s up to you; you don’t have to be rich to be generous.

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I Am Myself

by Johanne Grenier

©SynergyByDesign - flickr.com/photos/_synergy_/11628954813

I have Bipolar Disorder. I am Bipolar.

Same difference? Some will say yes, many will say no. There’s a lot of positive messages out there about the fact that we are not our illnesses.

“I have MS, but MS doesn’t have me.” “I have Asperger, but I’m not Asperger.”

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not criticizing those messages. Indeed, they are positive, optimistic, and even empowering. They remind us to consider ourselves as more than just our illnesses. But, I do have some reservations, too. Or rather, a different angle.

For example, I have Bipolar. Bipolar doesn’t have me, I have it. It doesn’t define who I am – I am still myself. But, does it? The difference is subtle. Who would I be, without my Bipolar Disorder? Would I be the same person? Would I have the same quirks, habits, preferences and dislikes? How much of my Bipolar Disorder makes me… me?

You see, I believe that without it, I simply would not be me – at least not in the way that I am right now. Some of these traits are bothersome: they impose limitations on me (I’ll get into more details on that in a sec), and, sometimes, they take over with a force stronger than a tsunami. But some other traits are just the opposite: they are positive. They make me compassionate, sensitive, empathic. They make me strong.

Yep, I just said they make me strong. Because they do! Battling with your mind day in and day out is difficult. Even with medication that keeps me for the most part stable, I have bad days. There are days that I’m more sensitive, days when I don’t quite function, or even days when I function too much. I can be super depressed for a day (or three), or hypomanic for a day (or three). These are tiny episodes, not long enough to be medically declared as such, but just enough to mess with my day (or week). And when I don’t have “Baby Episodes”, as we could call them, I still struggle with anxiety and panic attacks. Going through all these ups and downs and managing them, while trying to maintain a semblance of a normal life, takes strength. Lots of strength.

My struggles makes me strong.

Would I be as strong if I had never had to navigate all these unstable moods? I’m not so sure. Maybe. But probably not. I could do without all the yo-yo’ing, definitely. But I’m glad to have that inner strength and resilience.

But what about those limits I mentioned earlier? All those positive messages we see everywhere on social media try to steer us away from viewing ourselves as having limits, right? They have us believing that we can reach for the stars, and that anything is possible if we put our minds to it. And isn’t that a good message?

Well, yes.

But also no. Don’t get me wrong, it’s definitely good to have this mindset of not giving up or of not withholding from trying something just because we are scared of failure. And we should NEVER accept limits imposed on us by others. If we have a dream, we should definitely look at how we can achieve it, and go for it.

BUT – it’s also important to understand our personal limits. They will be different for everyone, and might stem from personality, preferences, or circumstances. I do have limitations, and I’ve learned to recognize them. My concentration is not as good as it used to be, I have anxiety, and I do have unpredictable moods despite taking medication. Said medication also has undesirable side effects – for example, I am very fatigued in the mornings until about 10:00 am, and although I do function enough to get my daughters to school, I wouldn’t make any huge morning commitments, and I often do need to go back to bed after school drop off (I am blessed with a great neighbour who will sometimes bring them for me if I judge that I shouldn’t be driving – a good support system is key to living with any chronic illness, but that’s a topic for another blog post!) That being said, the stability the medication brings me far outweighs the side effects, so I take them diligently.

Briefly said, there are situations that are simply not a good fit for me, and fostering the ability to recognize them before throwing myself into them is a good life skill that actually helps me stabilize my moods. Otherwise, I’m exposing myself to constantly be swimming counter-current, fighting my core self – and that’s a fight no one can ever win.

I have Bipolar Disorder. I am Bipolar. They are both intricately part of me.

I am myself.

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Book review: The player - Kresley Cole

By Jessica Clarke

Victoria ‘Vice’ Valentine has always been an artist. A con artist. Coming from a large family of grifters, she’s been taught since she could walk how to pull a con over people.

When the cartel threatens Vice’s family for going after the wrong mark, they strike a deal to raise eight million dollars as payback. But with the deadline looming on the horizon and not nearly enough money, the Valentine’s scramble to pull all the stops on as many marks as possible. Failing isn’t an option: if they can’t raise the money, the cartel will make an example out of Vice’s father.

The problem is, Vice isn’t pulling her weight. The last five cons she’s tried to pull have all hightailed it as far away from her as they could, as though they’d been warned. Believing herself jinxed, she gets desperate to succeed, in order to bring her family closer to saving her father from certain death.

In comes Dmitri Sevastyan, a tech genius billionaire and Vice’s last ditch effort. When their eyes meet across a moonlight terrace at a party, Victoria can’t believe any one man could be so beautiful. From that moment, Dmitri makes it his mission to make her his in a whirlwind pursuit that has Vice’s head spinning.  

Completely surprised by the eager Russian making her job almost too easy, she disregards all the red flags her instincts are flashing at her and goes for the biggest con of all: the milk-cow. In this scenario, there’s only one important thing to remember: do not fall for the mark. It isn’t real.

Victoria is positive she can pull the con and get her father out of the hot seat, all the while keeping her heart intact, if not her body. Piece of cake.

This novel is the last of the Game Maker trilogy. And ladies, what an ending it is! As usual, Mrs. Cole doesn’t disappoint her fans! Words honestly fall short to describe the sheer talent that is Kresley Cole. From her stunning, vivid imagination to her captivating dialogue and her steamy encounters, Kresley leaves no one unmoved. Her ability rests in creating strong, believable characters that she also masterfully makes heart-achingly vulnerable.

This is a must read you simply cannot put on your to-be-read shelf; you need to stop everything you’re doing and delve into it right away!  

Find out more about Kresley Cole’s novel, including an excerpt of The Player, here.

RATING: 4.65 stars.

Purchase your copy via: Amazon.ca Amazon.com Indigo Barnes & Noble

Feel free to share or comment! Or even recommend your favourite novel.

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The Grand Ole Opry

A song by Paulette Dicaire

CHORUS: The radio would be tuned in every Saturday night To hear the Grand Ole Opry; was the highlight of my life. How I love to tap my foot and sing with them all We would all clap our hands, dance and have a ball.

The road leading me through life was bumpy and long But I grew up with respect, singing a good old country song. Things haven’t changed that much over the years ‘Cause traditional country music; is still what I love to hear The words to the songs...I knew off by heart Even the ones…that didn’t make the charts.

CHORUS: Yeah…the radio would be tuned in every Saturday night To hear the Grand Ole Opry; was the highlight of my life. How I love to tap my foot and sing with them all We would all clap our hands, dance and have a ball.

I heard all the singers, on the grand old Opry To meet them in person was a longing in me. Being from a small town, we were known as country folk We would be the first to laugh at a good old country joke. But each song that was sung to us, was simple and true Some would make us happy and some would make us blue.

CHORUS: So we tuned in the radio every Saturday night To hear the Grand Ole Opry was the highlight of my life. How I love to tap my foot and sing with them all We would all clap our hands, dance and have a ball.

Each song told a story that the singer would convey They either sang on stage or sitting on a bale of hay. So when life and its problems turn your smile into a frown Just listen to country music the rhythm won’t let you down. It will bring you back to moments remembering long ago When we’d turn on the radio and to the Opry we would go.

CHORUS: The radio would be tuned in every Saturday night To hear the Grand Ole Opry was the highlight of my life. How I love to tap my foot and sing with them all We would all clap our hands, dance and have a ball.

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Book review: Bound for hell - Kendra Leigh

By Jessica Clarke

Life for Angel Lawson has been a solitary affair. She has spent the majority of it living on the fringes of her family, looking in. Emotionally scarred and believing herself unworthy of love, she’s allowed her family to push her aside, in punishment for the past.

With the exception of her spunky girlfriend, Jia, Angel has also made sure to avoid any attachments, preferring the ease of a purely sexual relationship with men.  

However, when sexy and charismatic Ethan Wilde crosses her path, Angel is helpless to fight against their instant and intense attraction. And, after a spontaneous encounter that leaves them both reeling, billionaire Ethan makes it his mission to see her again. But believing herself ‘broken’, Angel is uncertain whether she should see him again and if she could remain detached in an effort to protect them both.

Mrs. Leigh’s writing clearly shows the reader that she has a deep understanding of her protagonist, Angel. She delves into her depths, stripping away her carefully constructed façade in order to reveal the vulnerable woman beneath.  

Kendra Leigh’s Bound for Hell trilogy is reminiscent of other series such as Sylvia Day’s Crossfire series and E.L. James’s Fifty Shades of Grey series. Her novel touches on similar themes, such as domineering men. So bottom line is, if you’re a fan of either of those authors or series, then this one is a perfect addition to your bookshelf!

Find out more about Kendra Leigh’s debut novel Bound for Hell here.

RATING: 3.85 stars.

Purchase your copy via: Amazon.ca Amazon.com Goodreads.com

Feel free to share or comment! Or even recommend your favourite novel.

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Come home

By Marielle Dicaire

I said I could live like this. I said I’d be okay. But baby, there’s this part of me that falls apart every time I see your suitcase by the door. I feel my heart constricting when I meet your eyes for the last time. Because I know it might actually be… the last time.

I thought it’d be easier than this. I thought hearing your voice every night would help ease the loneliness and help put me to sleep. But even in the warmth of the summer’s heat, the sheets in our bed always feel cold. I sometimes imagine you lying there, only to open my eyes to the empty space next to me. I reach for your pillow, holding it tight, trying to convince myself that it’s you. But that scent I love so much has been washed away, constantly reminding me that I’m alone.

Honey, I come home every day hoping you’ll be there. Our home, which feels so warm when you’re here, feels so bare when you’re gone. It’s been so quiet since you’ve went away. I sometimes talk out loud, telling you about my day, even though I know you’re not here to listen. You’re not here to smile at me like you used to whenever I walked through the door. You’re not here to wash away the tears I can no longer hold, nor to tell me I’m going to be fine. I keep making your favorite meals, sitting your plate in front of mine. A plate I end up eating the next day so it doesn’t go to waste. I listen to your favourite songs, only to realize I’m the only one singing along. Half of my soul’s missing. It has been for months.

Every night I tell you I love you, I refrain myself from begging you to come back home. Because I knew from the very beginning you’d be gone most of the time. But darling, I never thought loving you would be this hard. I never thought I’d spend most of my nights crying myself to sleep. I never thought I’d wear my favourite sweater of yours until it became threadbare from being worn and washed so much. And I honestly never thought I’d be remembering the time we’ve spent together more than actually spending it with you.

Some days, you seem like a memory that’s long gone… But when you finally come home, it always feels like seeing you for the first time. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest. I can feel this rush of excitement rushing through my whole body, making it tremble. I look across the platforms at a train leaving the station, hoping to see you on the other side, bags in hands. For a second, I break in two, terrified you won’t be there. But you are, you’re there waiting with arms wide open ready to catch me as I run to you.

And for the first time in months, I too am home.

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In loving memory of Charles Burbine

By Paulette Dicaire

In loving memory of Charles Burbine (Charlie) Who passed away on 09 April 2006...

The years have passed, quickly speeding by, I looked at the date and a tear fell from my eye.

I shook my head, I just couldn't conceive; The calendar says 10 years..it's hard to believe.

Every time I travel down home, I visit your grave,  I talk to you, lay flowers, but it's your voice I crave.

For Father's Day, I try to think of ways to be nice But it isn't easy when I only get home once or twice.

Holidays are weird, but I give something just the same, Only I give to different charities now, in your name.

I won't make excuses, I'll try harder to take care of things I pray when my time comes, I get my own set of wings.

So I hope things are well, it's been so long since you crossed, We are doing pretty good now, but some of us were lost.

Goodbye is not forever, goodbye is not the end. It simply means we'll miss you, until we meet again.

Always missed and forever loved, Your daughter Paulette and son-in-law Paul

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Book review : Revelations - Jennifer Carole Lewis

By Jessica Clarke

Danielle Harris has spent the last several years fighting against the Huntress that inhabits her body―always demanding her due. She struggles with the fear that, one day, she won’t be able to keep a lid on the monster coiled inside her. Even worst, she’s being pressured by her family to do the ritual which will in fact free the Huntress, allowing her to take over her body, in order to help guide their hidden community of gifted people.

Life seems exigent enough as it is, but when a sociopath kidnaps her two brothers in order to use their abilities to create an army of super soldiers, Dani is determined to stop at nothing to save them.

A chance encounter with Michael Brooks, a childhood developmental therapist, leads to a tenuous partnership at first, but soon ignites a deep passion that will leave them both unable to resist each other’s magnetic pull.

Their mission quickly reveals that many more of the Lalassu people have recently gone missing. They also uncover the identity of who’s behind the disappearances, and realize that they are way out of their league.  Even gifted as they may be, what can two people do against the far-reaching hands of an invisible organization lead by a ruthless madman?

With a cast of many unique and unforgettable characters, Mrs. Lewis’s debut novel is a thrilling read that will have you turning the pages long past your bedtime.

Find out more about Jennifer Carole Lewis’s debut novel Revelations here.

Or even read an excerpt of the novel here.

RATING: 4.25 stars.

Purchase your copy via: Amazon.ca Amazon.com

Barnes & Noble Goodreads

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Love me like the old days

By Marielle Dicaire

Let’s be honest for a minute, love isn’t what it used to be.

The thing is, it seems like we forget why we fell in love in the first place. When we fall for each other, I believe there’s a good reason for it. Something clicked. Something in us changed. We found something in the other that makes our lives complete. Something in them that brings out the best in ourselves. And while looking into one another’s eyes, we can’t imagine a day where we’d ever live apart.

I’ve always believed in ‘love at first sight’. Call me a dreamer, but I believe that it’s made me fall in love even more than I ever thought I could. Even when I’d stop believing and would rather be alone than getting hurt again, I couldn’t stop myself from falling in love once again. Who could, anyway? But over the years, I’ve gained experience through loving and being in relationships. They’ve taught me how truly loving someone is actually different from what I’d originally believed.

It seems that we give up so easily. Whenever we hit a rough patch or when everything becomes so messed up, the only way to get through it is to give up. In those moments, it seems like the only option is a clean and easy break. Start fresh with someone new, hoping the relationship will be better than the last. It seems so easy, but it doesn’t mean it’s the right thing to do.

What happened to fighting for what we once believed? What happened to ‘I’ll love you, in sickness and health, till death do us part’? We say those words and mean them whenever they come out. Why can’t we hold on to them, fight for them… be true to them? Why, instead of growing together, we sometimes grow apart?

Love isn’t what it used to be.

Love me like the old days. Fall for me, like I fell for you in the flash of a second. By looking into my eyes, looking at who I am. Love me the way our grandparents loved each other. Fight for us even on the hardest days. Fight for the relationship for which you envisioned your future that first day you told me those three perfect words.

Fight for all the tomorrows to come. Fight for the memories we’re going to make together. Oh Honey, this adventure has just begun and I can’t imagine living a day without you standing next to me. Kiss me, remembering why you wanted me in the first place. Hold me tight and never let me go. Because I don’t want to leave this place we share. Because I will fight for us even on our darkest of days too. Because love should always be fought for.

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We can't change yesterday, but we can change tomorrow...

Ken Poirot

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Book review: Guilty pleasures by Laurell K. Hamilton

By Jessica Clarke

An incredible debut to the Anita Blake series.

This novel is a little gem that certainly surprises. You wouldn’t be able to tell just by looking at the cover what kind of an incredible adventure you’re about to embark on.

Mrs. Hamilton’s Guilty Pleasures is the epitome of what to read if you love any or all of the following: Horror, a healthy dose of violence and even gore, psychopaths, or lycanthropes―because in this series, you’ll find much more than just werewolves, necromancers, zombie’s, voodoo priests and, of course, vampires. It also has a generous dose of romance thrown into the mix.

Disclaimer: as the series progresses, the novels include more and more sex, so if you’re adverse to reading about characters having sex with multiple partners―sometimes at the same time―then maybe this series isn’t the right fit for you. It does include polyamorous relationships and homosexuality.

Now that you’ve been warned, let’s get back to the fun stuff. The Anita Blake series is a long-running one, with over twenty books.

Anita is a kickass, take names, necromancer who raises zombies for a living. She’s also a U.S. Marshall who, from time to time, receives a warrant to hunt down vampires. She’s a spit-fire in a little package, all of barely five feet something. She definitely embodies the definition of a hard-ass. Then again, considering her ‘metaphorically speaking’ day job, which typically includes welding a machete to slice into a sacrificial animal in order to raise the dead, you can’t really be expecting a prim and proper societal debutant―who likely faints at the first sight of blood…right?  

This first installment in the series leads Anita right to Jean-Claude’s doorstep. Jean-Claude is a powerful master vampire―the preverbal definition of a monster according to Anita―who, little does she know, will become a man she can’t live without. You will also be introduced to a large cast of supporting characters, some whom you’ll follow throughout the series.

To be honest, Hamilton is one of my favourite authors because there is simply no competing with her imagination. I’ve yet to find another author in her genre that even comes close to creating so many unique and memorable characters. I highly recommend this book and the series in general.

Find out more about Guilty Pleasures and even find an excerpt here.

Find out more about the Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter series here.

RATING: 4.5 stars.

Purchase your copy via: Amazon.com Amazon.ca Indigo Barnes & Noble Audible

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The Good Girl

By Marielle Dicaire

It happened again. Just when you thought it’d be different. You let your guard down and let him in, thinking you’d be fine. Everything you believed in crashed right before your rainy eyes. You rewind everything in your mind and think about every single moment, trying to find ‘THE MOMENT’ everything fell apart. And you wonder for days… even weeks what you’d done wrong.

You've always been the good girl. That girl who always follows the rules, who never makes everything about her. That same girl who gives more than she usually gets. But she’s never cared. As long as he's happy, you are too. But good girls sometimes attract the wrong guys. Trust me, I know. One look at him and you know he's ‘THE ONE’. He understands you... Gets you... Takes care of you… Tells you how pretty you are. What you don't know is that he's ‘THE ONE’ who'll actually break you in two. After all you’ve given him, all you wanted was to feel wanted in return.

He’ll make you wonder how you could’ve ever thought that he was the right one. How could I believe that this guy―who took my breath away―was going to spend the rest of his life only looking at me? That’s just how we, the good girls, are. We believe in love at first sight. We believe in its magic, in the strike of lightning jolting us completely still when our eyes meet for the first time. We believe in its fairy tale and although we often get hurt in the process, we keep believing. This is what makes us who we are. The good girl.    

Once you’ve had enough—and you always tell yourself you’ve had enough at the end of each failed relationship—you tell yourself “that was the last time”. But then, the number of ‘last’ times keeps pilling up. You end up forgetting all about your promises to yourself as soon as the next ‘ONE’ shows up. You fall for it again, only to end up hitting rock bottom once more. But don’t close your eyes… at least not yet. Because every failed relationship brings you closer to the right one. How do I know this?

Because I’m one of those girls; because I believe too.  

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Book Review: Rocky Mountain Shelter – Vivian Arend

By Jessica Clarke

Those Coleman boys have some serious mojo going on. Time after time I read the new releases of Mrs. Arend’s Six Pack Ranch series and marvel at how unique each and every one is.

You really can’t help but fall in love with every Coleman you meet through her novels. They are a kind, generous lot with enough passion to cause spontaneous combustion.

The heroine, Becky Hall, is on the run from the life she’s always known. She’s haunted by her past and lives in fear of the future. Fortune lands her in Rocky Mountain House and into Trevor Coleman’s path.

Fate shined down on Trevor when he first spotted a small figure on his neighbors’ roof. From the moment he meets Becky, he’s determined to stop at nothing to ‘be neighborly’ in the hopes of getting to know her better.

Their love story is one of compassion and healing.

It may not be my favorite of the Six Pack Ranch novels, but it is by no means a bad read. If you love stories about a strong woman learning to land on her feet after a difficult life and cowboys who are swoon worthy, then this book is for you.

Find out more about Rocky Mountain House’s Six Pack Ranch and its characters here.

RATING: 3 stars.

Purchase your copy via: Amazon.com  Amazon.ca  Indigo  Barnes & Noble  Audible  

Feel free to share or comment! Or even recommend your favorite novel!

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THE RUMBLING OF THE WHEELS

By Paulette Dicaire

“The rumbling of the wheels reminds me of why, I’m on this train and trying not to cry.

I got a phone call from mom a day ago, She said, “things don't look so good and I thought you ought to know”.

I always knew this day would come, but I was unprepared, When the realization hit me, I was oh so scared.

After eighteen hours, to the hospital I arrived, But his health wasn't good his oxygen was deprived.

I got on my knees and prayed to God up above, I spoke to an angel with the wings like a dove.

She spoke so lovingly and calmed my shaking nerves, She said, “things will be all right the road has many curves.

You know death really isn't the end of it all, We just have to be prepared when Jesus on us calls.

Give respect to all living things that we meet, So when our final day arrives your Savior you will meet.

Things turned out for the best, my dad had some bad days, But on his 80th birthday he was happy and gay.

The lord doesn't give us more than we all can bear, I spent a week with him, so he knows how much I care.

The doctor sent him home in pretty good health, I think we all did okay with the cards we were dealt.

So the rumblings of the wheels, is better this time, I heading back to my home cause things turned out just fine.”

I hope all reading this enjoy reading my poem it was written in March 2006 and I was feeling pretty sad when I started writing the first part because I did not know what I was going to see when I got to the hospital in Yarmouth so believe me when I say it was a nerve wrecking train ride. I tend to write in times of stress to get my mind off things it helps me relive the tension. I have written many poems and songs that way, unfortunately this one didn't quite end here... On the morning of April 9, 2006... not even one month later my sister called with the news that I didn't want to hear. My dad went to bed the night before and just didn't get up the next morning, I was devastated to say the least and I will forever miss him. But I will be thankful I had the chance to take that train ride to see him one last time.

I wrote this poem as an obituary for him one year later...

I WONDER...

“I wonder about so many things as the days go slowly by,  I wonder about the world, at large and why we even try.

I wonder can you see us as we go from day to day?  I wonder can you hear us when we're on our knees to pray?

I wonder if you are watching and see our teardrops fall? I wonder if you realize how missed you are by us all?

I wonder is it true that you're now so young and free?  I wonder are things exactly the way they're supposed to be?

I wonder are you with family members that left us long ago?  I wonder are the answers what I wish or does my heart already know?

I wonder why we are afraid of the things we cannot see?  I wonder if everyone feels this way or is it only me?

I wonder  if we are doing the things the way you'd want us too?  I wonder if they look and notice the vacant spot in your church pew?

I wonder will I see you when my final day grows near?  I wonder will you be there to comfort me so I will not fear?

I wonder although I don't have to about all these things,  I wonder but really I know you are with the king of kings.

Just a year ago you left us when God called you home,  We know that you are with us although we feel so alone.”

As everything in life the days pass and before we know it another year has come and gone and I decided to pen a new obituary which would be my final one.

“It has been two years since you went away, God took you home on that cold April day.

The days have gone by slowly since you've gone, Oh how I miss you, but life does go on.

As we go through life we feel you with us. And smile as we think you'd laugh at the fuss.

But, even through we miss you so much,   We know you're happy to feel God's touch.

You were Charlie to most of the guys at the mall, But a "Father" and missed by Paulette and Paul.”