Everybody had fun tonight!

These are a few of my favorite costumes

This kid is a woopie cushion - and he was making the appropriate noises!



This is a tiny little Nemo's hiney. He was adorable.


You can't see her feet, but this mermaid had to jump because of her fish tail in this costume.


I call this one Meredith Grey (Gray's Anatomy). I thought she was darling.

Isabel

This is just the cutest thing I've seen in a long time. This is Brenda (Mickey)'s new granddaughter, Isabel. Is she precious, or what? Only two weeks old in this picture, and look how filled out and bright-eyed she is. She's just adorable. Brenda says Isabel is all dressed up for Grandma's birthday.

Thank you SO much for the picture, Brenda!

Do It Yourself Home Improvements

This do it yourselfer makes HANDYMAN an oxymoron.

Friendly Neighborhood SpiderPumpkin

Kristin and Elijah have been working on his pumpkin art project since Sunday. Papa took him shopping and he picked out a white pumpkin. Cool. Then Bama (that's me) took him shopping for acrylic paints and accessories. Then Mom and Elijah put their idea into action. I think it's really cute.

There is a third grade contest, and all the kids took their pumpkins today. They are lining the hallway. Friday is the voting.

Good luck, Elijah!

Do You Remember?

There are 20 questions. Average score is 12. This one will be difficult for the younger set. Have fun, but no peeking!

1. What builds strong bodies 12 ways?
A. Flintstones vitamins
B. The Buttmaster
C. Spaghetti
D. Wonder Bread
E. Orange Juice
F. Milk
G. Cod Liver Oil

2. Before he was Muhammed Ali, he was...
A. Sugar Ray Robinson
B. Roy Orbison
C. Gene Autry
D. Rudolph Valentino
E. Fabian
F. Mickey Mantle
G. Cassius Clay

3. Pogo, the comic strip character said, 'We have met the enemy and...
A. It's you
B. He is us
C. It's the Grinch
D. He wasn't home
E. He's really me an
F. We quit
G. He surrendered

4. Good night David.
A. Good night Chet
B. Sleep well
C. Good night Irene
D. Good night Gracie
E. See you later alligator
F. Until tomorrow
G. Good night Steve

5. You'll wonder where the yellow went...
A. When you use Tide
B. When you lose your crayons
C. When you clean your tub
D. If you paint the room blue
E. If you buy a soft water tank
F. When you use Lady Clairol
G. When you brush your teeth with Pepsodent

6. Before he was the Skipper's Little Buddy, Bob Denver was Dobie's friend...
A. Stuart Whitman
B. Randolph Scott
C. Steve Reeves
D. Maynard G. Krebbs
E. Corky B. Dork
F. Dave the Whale
G. Zippy Zoo

7. Liar, liar...
A. You're a liar
B. Your nose is growing
C. Pants on fire
D. Join the choir
E. Jump up higher
F. On the wire
G. I'm telling Mom

8. Meanwhile, back in Metropolis, Superman fights a never ending battle for truth, justice and...
A. Wheaties
B. Lois Lane
C. TV ratings
D. World peace
E. Red tights
F. The American way
G. News headlines

9. Hey kids! What time is it?
A. It's time for Yogi Bear
B. It's time to do your homework
C. It's Howdy Doody Time
D. It's Time for Romper Room
E. It's bedtime
F. The Mighty Mouse Hour
G. Scoopy Doo Time

10. Lions and tigers and bears...
A. Yikes
B. Oh no
C. Gee whiz
D. I'm scared
E. Oh my
F. Help! Help!
G. Let's run

11. Bob Dylan advised us never to trust anyone...
A. Over 40
B. Wearing a uniform
C. Carrying a briefcase
D. Over 30
E. You don't know
F. Who says, 'Trust me'
G. Who eats tofu

12. NFL quarterback who appeared in a television commercial wearing women's stockings...
A. Troy Aikman
B. Kenny Stabler
C. Joe Namath
D. Roger Stauback
E. Joe Montana
F. Steve Young
G. John Elway

13. Brylcream...
A. Smear it on
B. You'll smell great
C. Tame that cowlick
D. Grease ball heaven
E. It's a dream
F. We're your team
G. A little dab'll do ya

14. I found my thrill...
A. In Blueberry muffins
B. With my man, Bill
C. Down at the mill
D. Over the windowsill
E. With thyme and dill
F. Too late to enjoy
G. On Blueberry Hill

15. Before Robin Williams, Peter Pan was played by...
A. Clark Gable
B. Mary Martin
C. Doris Day
D. Errol Flynn
E. Sally Fields
F. Jim Carey
G. Jay Leno

16. Name the Beatles...
A. John, Steve, George, Ringo
B. John, Paul, George, Roscoe
C. John, Paul, Stacey, Ringo
D. Jay, Paul, George, Ringo
E. Lewis, Peter, George, Ringo
F. Jason, Betty, Skipper, Hazel
G. John, Paul, George, Ringo

17. I wonder, wonder, who..
A. Who ate the leftovers?
B. Who did the laundry?
C. Was it you?
D. Who wrote the book of love?
E. Who I am?
F. Passed the test?
G. Knocked on the door?

18. I'm strong to the finish...
A. Cause I eats my broccoli
B. Cause I eats me spinach
C. Cause I lift weights
D. Cause I'm the hero
E. And don't you forget it
F. Cause Olive Oyl loves me
G. To outlast Bruto

19. When it's least expected, you're elected, you're the star today...
A. Smile, you're on Candid Camera
B. Smile, you're on Star Search
C. Smile, you won the lottery
D. Smile, we're watching you
E. Smile, the world sees you
F. Smile, you're a hit
G. Smile, you're on TV

20. What do M & M's do?
A. Make your tummy happy
B. Melt in your mouth, not in your pocket
C. Make you fat
D. Melt your heart
E. Make you popular
F. Melt in your mouth, not in your hand
G. Come in colors

Okay, are you ready?






Below are the correct answers:
1. D - Wonder Bread
2. G - Cassius Clay
3. B - He Is Us
4. A - Good night, Chet
5. G - When you brush your teeth with Pepsodent
6. D - Maynard G. Krebbs
7. C - Pants On Fire
8. F - The American Way
9. C - It's Howdy Doody Time
10. E - Oh My
11. D - Over 30
12. C - Joe Namath
13. G - A little dab'll do ya
14. G - On Blueberry Hill
15. B - Mary Martin
16. G - John, Paul, George, Ringo
17. D - Who wrote the book of Love
18. B - Cause I eats me spinach
19. A - Smile, you're on Candid Camera
20. F - Melt In Your Mouth Not In Your Hand

56-year-old Gives Birth to Her Grandbabies

I guess that's one way to get those grandkids you've always wanted!

CLEVELAND (Oct. 24) - Not only has a 56-year-old Ohio woman given birth to triplets, but they're her own granddaughters. Jaci Dalenberg, of Wooster, carried the babies as a surrogate for her daughter, Kim Coseno.

The two identical twins and their sister were born by Caesarean section Oct. 11 at the Cleveland Clinic's Hillcrest Hospital in Mayfield Heights and are still in the hospital's care. They were more than two months premature and each weighed less than three pounds.

A Cleveland Clinic news release says infants and grandmother are all doing well.
According to a Clinic spokesman, Dalenberg offered herself as a surrogate when Kim Coseno and her husband, Joe, were waiting to adopt. The couple used in vitro fertilization, and embryos were implanted in Dalenberg's uterus.

I searched like crazy to find a picture for you, and better yet! I found their family blog! CLICK HERE TO SEE THE BABIES AND HAPPY PARENTS!

Sources: The Associated Press and AOL News

Do it yourself home repairs

Would you even want to walk inside this house?

Be Safe

Buckle Up!

CLICK HERE TO WATCH THE TRAILER FOR THE MAGIC OF CHRISTMAS

Last Chance: BADLANDS BRIDE

Here's an opportunity to get one of my books you may have missed! Harlequin is reissuing a classic: BADLANDS BRIDE

SPECIAL RELEASES
SEPTEMBER '08
ISBN: 9780373361892 (#34)

Reporter Hallie Wainwright's introduction to the Wild West included traveling with a bevy of mail-order brides and shooting bandits. But it was the intimate "hello" in the arms of Cooper DeWitt that truly sent her heart racing—and made it all the more difficult for her to tell the brawny plainsman the truth….

When she jumped from the stage, shining with true grit and spewing tall tales, Cooper thought he just might have struck gold. Raised with the Sioux, Cooper needed a wife who could brave the frontier and corral his restless heart. The problem was, his would-be bride had no intention of marrying him!


ORDER THIS SPECIAL RELEASE FROM eHARLEQUIN.com



READ AN EXCERPT
CHAPTER ONE

Ignoring the reflection of the businesses across the street behind her and the words The Daily meticulously painted in gold and black lettering on the glass, Hallie Claire Wainwright observed herself in the window of her father's newspaper office. She adjusted the jacket of her carefully chosen two-piece fitted dress and smoothed a hand over her dark hair, fashioned into an uncharacteristically neat bun.

"I think I've earned the responsibility of reporting on the boxing matches," she said to her reflection. The sporting event would make the front page every day for weeks, and Hallie could think of nothing more exciting than seeing her name beneath the headline.

"I'm sure I could get interviews with the participants," she said convincingly. "Perhaps they'll share insights with me they wouldn't give the men." Forest green curtains obscured the interior of the newspaper office, but she didn't need to see in to picture her oldest brother, Turner, setting type and her father in the office beyond.

"I've been doing the menial jobs without complaint. It's time you gave me a chance. I'll do my best." Hallie gave her likeness a last confident nod and opened the door.

The reassuring smells of ink, paper and grease, which she'd grown up with, boosted her confidence. Turner didn't glance up as she strode pass the Franklin press to her father's office. She rapped twice and opened the door.

Samuel Wainwright glanced up and immediately returned his attention to the papers on his desk top.

"Father, I—"

"No."

Her mouth dropped open. "How do you even know what I was going to say?"

"You have that stubborn look on your face."

"I want to cover the boxing matches." She placed her fists on her hips. "Evan—" her lip curled around the name of the new apprentice "—gets all the good stories."

Samuel shifted his smoking cigar stub from one side of his mouth to the other and leaned back in his creaky leather chair. "Now, Hallie," he cajoled. "Don't get in a huff. You know it wouldn't be acceptable—or safe—for you to take up with that rowdy crowd in the Piedmont district. Any female in Boston with half a brain in her head wouldn't set foot within a mile of the place."

She rolled her eyes. "That's all the brain you give any woman credit for having."

He harrumphed, then shuffled through a stack of papers, finding one he wanted and ignoring her while he checked the list in his other hand against the sheet.

"Hello, Precious," Turner said, entering.

Hallie winced inwardly.

He'd rolled his white shirtsleeves back, and his dark hair stood up on his head in finger-combed waves. He handled the office work, overseeing the typeset and presses. "I want to check this against your copy," he said to their father.

Samuel extended a paper, and the two men concurred. Used to being ignored, Hallie sat on the corner of the ink-stained oak desk and crossed her arms over her chest, unwilling to acknowledge her father's wisdom in this particular case. So what if he was right for once? Her father and brothers, Charles and Turner, always came up with some inane reason that she couldn't handle a story, and ninety-nine out of a hundred times the real reason—the infuriating reason—was that she was a female.

Turner reached for a strand of Hallie's hair that had fallen loose. "You're a sight."

She batted his hand away.

"What are you pouting about now?"

"I'm not pouting."

He laughed. "You're mad as a March hare. Still in a fix over Evan? He says he can't sleep nights for the ringing in his ears. For the last week at supper, you've managed to discredit everything about the man, including his parentage."

Hallie uncrossed her arms and shot a glance at her father. He wore a smile of bored amusement. "I keep hoping someone around here will notice that he's not any more capable than I am."

"And as we've told you a thousand times," Turner said, raising a superior brow, "Father needed Evan."

She tried her best to swallow her resentment. Her father did need help, and she'd worked so hard to prove herself. Samuel had hired the young man to assist Charles with the reporting, so he could devote himself to the book work and editing. It hurt immeasurably that none of them had considered her for the position. And it frustrated her beyond words that they refused to listen to her reasoning.

It was one thing to constantly defer to her brothers, but now an outsider had displaced her! "Perhaps if I put on a pair of trousers, the lot of you will notice I have a whole brain in this head."

Turner scowled. "If you put on a pair of trousers, the men around here will notice more than that. And I'll have to turn you over my knee and discipline the object of their attention."

Hallie resisted the urge to stick her tongue out. Just because they treated her like a child didn't mean she'd give in and behave like one.

"Did you turn in the piece on the quilting society?" Turner asked.

"Now that was an unequaled challenge," she replied, tracing a worn scar on the desk top with an index finger. "Think it'll make the headlines tomorrow?"

"Look," her father said, interrupting. "Remember those classifieds we ran a while back? Here's more of the same."

Turner bent over the desk and read aloud. "'Bride wanted.' Another one—'Wife wanted to cook, do laundry and care for children."'

"What kind of self-respecting woman would answer an ad like that?" Hallie asked, frowning her distaste.

"A woman who wants a husband," Turner replied, directing a pointed glance at his sister. "Unlike you."

She ignored the familiar taunt. "It's barbaric."

"But newsworthy," her father added. He caught his cigar between two fingers and squinted at her through curls of blue-gray smoke. "Some of the young ladies at Miss Abernathy's Conservatory answered the last ads. Why don't you do a story on them, Hallie?"

"Really?" she asked, jumping up.

"I haven't seen anything in the other papers," he continued. "Maybe, for a change, we can print a story before they get the idea."

The assignment filled Hallie with a new sense of importance. The Daily was always trying to get the jump on the bigger papers, and even though the other newspapers always managed to edge them out, the Wainwrights had increased circulation over the past year. Any newsworthy story that first appeared in The Daily was a feather in their journalistic cap.

"I'll work on it right away." She kissed her father on the cheek and smugly tilted her chin on her way past Turner.

Samuel and Turner exchanged conspiratory grins. "How long do you think that will keep her out of our hair?" Turner asked.

Samuel ran a hand over his balding pate. "Let's hope until Evan has a foot in the door. It's hard enough being a cub, without having to deal with Hallie when she's got her hackles up."

"Well, then, we'll just have to keep her busy."

"Isn't it just the most romantic thing you've ever heard?" The young woman with golden hair and ivory skin ignored the cake and tea on the tiny table and stared vacantly across the front of the lace-decorated establishment where the ladies of Boston came to socialize over afternoon tea.

Hallie thought traveling to God-only-knew-where to marry a man she'd never laid eyes on was the most asinine thing she'd ever heard, but she politely refrained from saying so.

"Where are the northern Dakotas, anyway?" Tess Cor-dell asked, coming out of her dreamy-eyed trance. "One of the girls said up by the North Pole."

"I don't think it's quite that far." Hallie tried to recall her geography lessons. "It's far to the west and up north. Quite remote, I'm sure."

Tess took an envelope from her reticule and carefully removed and unfolded a letter. "His name is Cooper DeWitt. He has a stage line and a freight company, so he must be very wealthy." Her pale blue eyes took on that dreamy quality again. "The only thing he requested in a wife was that she be able to read and write. I think that's good, don't you? He doesn't sound like a demanding sort of fellow."

"Or discriminating," Hallie added.

"Right," Tess agreed, the comment apparently sailing over her head. "He's not superficial like most young men who care only that a woman be from a good family."

Hallie heard the resentment in her voice. Obviously Tess was not from a well-to-do family, or she wouldn't have responded to an ad from a desperate frontier man. "Does he say how old he is?"

Tess frowned at the paper momentarily. "No." Her expression brightened. "But he does mention that he's never had a wife, so he must be young."

Or uglier than a buck-toothed mule, Hallie thought more realistically. What was this poor girl getting herself into? She almost wanted to offer her assistance if the girl needed someone to provide for her so badly she was willing to do this. But she held her tongue. Her family had told her often enough that her thinking was not that of a typical twenty-year-old woman. Tess was obviously delighted with her plan. "What else does he say?"

"Only that the country is beautiful and that I would have everything that I need."

"How romantic." Hallie made a few notes on her tablet. "Are you worried about being so far from anyone you know?"

"Well..." Tess chewed her lower lip. "I don't have family, but a couple of the other girls have accepted positions in the same community, so we'll be traveling together. I'm sure Mr. DeWitt will see that I can visit from time to time."

Hallie noted the term accepted positions for later reference. "Are the other girls as excited as you?"

"Oh, yes!" Her pale eyes sparkled. "This is an adventure of a lifetime!"

"I want to speak with the others, too. Can you give me their names?" Hallie scribbled a list and thanked Tess for the interview.

Hallie met the other young women, then hurried home to write her article. The enormous, masculinely furnished house was quiet, as usual. She slipped into her father's study and seated herself in his oversize chair, arranging paper, pen and ink on the desk top. She loved the room, did her best thinking among the familiar heavy pieces with the Seth Thomas mantel clock chiming on the half hour.

Nearly three hours passed before Hallie noticed the time. Double-checking the information, wording and neat printing, she blotted the pages. Her father would undoubtedly cut it in half, but, pleased with her work, she delivered it to his office.

He read the pages while she waited. "This is just what we wanted, Precious," he commended her.

Gladdened at the acknowledgment, she ignored the patronizing nickname.

"Keep on this," he said.

"You mean...?"

"I mean follow up. Go with them when they shop for the trip, watch them pack, all that. We'll run a series on the brides, right up until you wave them off at the stage station."

Surprised and more than a little pleased, Hallie nodded. "All right." She patted the edge of the desk in satisfaction. "All right."

Hallie read her articles in print each day, delighting in the fact that her father hadn't cut more than a sentence or two. She was so delighted, she didn't allow the fact that her father's new apprentice was covering the boxing championships and making headlines nearly every other day upset her—too much.

The day before her subjects were due to leave, she stepped into the office early. On the other side of the partially open mahogany door her brothers' voices rose.

"I'll take this sentencing piece," Charles said. "I'll be at the courthouse this morning, anyway."

"Right," Samuel said. "Evan?"

"I still have the lawyer to interview and, of course, the matches tonight. I'll try not to take a punch myself this time."

Male laughter echoed.

"That's some shiner!" Charles said.

"Great coverage, son." Samuel added. "You'll do anything to get an unusual angle. That's the stuff good reporters are made of." The aromatic scent of his morning cigar reached Hallie's nostrils, and she paused, a hollow, jealous ache opening in her chest at her father's casual praise of Evan Hunter. "How many more matches?"

"Another week," Evan replied.

Hallie reached for the door.

"What're we gonna do with Hallie?" Turner's voice carried through the gap beside the door. "Her brides leave tomorrow."

Hallie stopped and listened.

"That turned out to be an excellent piece," Charles commented. "We've had good response."

"Plus we got the jump on the Journal," Samuel agreed.

"Who'd have thought that when you came up with something to keep her off Evan's back during the matches, we'd actually get a good piece of journalism?" She recognized Turner's voice.

They laughed again.

A heavy weight pressed upon Hallie's chest. Hurt and self-doubt squeezed a bitter lump of disappointment into her throat. Of all the patronizing, condescending, imperious—

They'd handed her the story like presenting a cookie to a toddler they didn't want underfoot! And now they gloated over their own superiority. Hallie had never felt so wretched...so cheated...so unimportant.

"Do we have any sources in the Dakotas?" Charles asked.

"Why?"

"The real story is on the other end of that stage line."

A moment of silence followed Charles's comment, wherein Hallie imagined them nodding piously at one another.

"Yes, when the men who sent for those gals set eyes on them," Samuel agreed. "No. We don't have anyone that far west."

"Too bad," Turner said.

"Too bad, indeed," Charles said. "We could have had a real follow-up story there."

"Let's just hope the Journal doesn't think of it." Samuel added.

Heartbroken, Hallie gathered her skirts and trod stealthily back out the front door. She walked the brick street without direction. It never entered her mind to go home. Her mother would only tell her as she always did that her father and brothers did such things for her own good. Clarisse Wainwright had been born and bred to be a genteel wife and a mother to Samuel's sons. The fact that Hallie had come along had been an inconvenience to all of them, or so Hallie saw it.

Hallie hadn't been born the proper gender to take a prominent place at the newspaper, as much as she wished to, as much as she knew the same amount of ink flowed through her veins as her brothers'. They'd patted her on the head and sent her on her way since she'd been old enough to toddle after them.

The truth lay on her crushed heart like lead. They would never see her as good enough, as equal, as valuable or necessary.

Question

If you could sit down for lunch with any author, dead or alive, who would it be and what would you discuss? Here's my pick. Surprised?

Examiner.com has listed him as the third richest author in the world, earning a respectable 45 million between June 2007 and June 2008.
#1 is JK Rowling with 300 million, #2 James Patterson barely ahead with 50 million number four is Tom Clancy making 35 million and Danielle Steele fifth at 30 million.

Honorable mentions for the filthy rich authors went to Nicholas Sparks, Janet Evanovich, John Grisham, Dean Koontz, and Ken Follet.

Which stall should you use?

The center stall has more bacteria than those on either end, according to unpublished data collected by Gerba.

No, you won't catch an STD from a toilet seat. But you can contract all manner of ills if you touch a germy toilet handle and then neglect to wash your hands thoroughly.

Don't ever say I'm not looking out for my BFFs!

BUTTERFLY

New Thinking on Memory from PREVENTION Magazine

These days I spend a lot of time in front of my closet. It's not that I'm particularly choosy about what to wear. It's because I can't remember why I opened the closet in the first place. Somehow, between my living room and bedroom, all memory of what I was after went poof, leaving me staring blankly at those shelves. It seems like ever since I hit my mid-40s, my memory has been in a state of rebellion. I certainly remember all the big things: my name, what year it is, the fact that my teenage daughter believes I'm invading her privacy when I ask her what happened at school today. But it's the little things--what I ate last week at that new restaurant or even if I liked that new restaurant (speaking of which, what was its name?)--that sometimes slip away.

Experts say that such "senior moments" are normal even if it will be decades before you can begin to think about tapping your 401(k). Reassuring, yes, but that still doesn't help me remember the name of that restaurant. Brain researchers are on the case. Studies are uncovering how our mundane, everyday habits--what we eat, the pills we take, how we rest, and even our confidence levels--have a big impact on our brain. Here's what experts say are the newest strategies guaranteed to keep your memory quick, agile, and sharp.

Check Your Iron

Iron helps the neurotransmitters essential to memory function properly--and your brain can be sensitive to low amounts. "A poor diet or heavy menstrual periods, such as those during perimenopause, can cause your iron levels to drop enough to affect your recall abilities, even if you don't have anemia," says Laura Murray-Kolb, PhD, an assistant professor of international health at Johns Hopkins University. When she gave memory tests to 149 women, those with low iron levels missed twice as many questions as those with sufficient amounts. Yet after 4 months of taking iron supplements, most of the women, with their iron levels back to normal, scored as well as the best group in the first test.

Murray-Kolb recommends that women who don't get enough through their diets consider taking a daily multivitamin with 18 mg of iron (8 mg for postmenopausal women). If you still suspect you're low, ask your doctor for a blood test to check your ferritin level, which will reveal even a moderate iron deficiency; a regular blood test isn't sensitive enough to pick up levels lower than the threshold for anemia.

Turn Off Background Noise

We all multitask, a necessary survival skill of the digital age. But did you know that just listening to the news while you answer your e-mail can limit how well you're able to recall both? Normally, when you take in new information, you process it with a part of the brain called the cerebral cortex.

"But multitasking greatly reduces learning because people can't attend to the relevant information," says UCLA psychology professor and memory researcher Russell Poldrack, PhD. That's because the brain is forced to switch processing to an area called the striatum, and the information stored here tends to contain fewer important details. Luckily, this kind of memory problem has an easy fix, says Poldrack: Simply pay undivided attention to whatever you really want to recall later.

Refresh Your Mind

Yes, you know that meditation can reduce stress, which research shows can damage brain cells and your ability to retain information over time. But the ancient practice can do more than just soothe your soul: It may also sharpen your memory. According to a University of Kentucky study, subjects who took a late-afternoon test after meditating for 40 minutes had significantly better scores than those who napped for the same period. Even more surprising, when the subjects were retested after being deprived of a full night's sleep, those who meditated still scored better than their study counterparts. How could that be? Meditation, like sleep, reduces sensory input, and this quiet state may provide a time for neurons to process and solidify new information and memories.

Brain scans have revealed that meditation produces a state somewhat similar to non-REM sleep (which many specialists believe is the more mentally restorative sleep phase), in that many neurons of the cortex fire in sync, says Bruce O'Hara, PhD, a coauthor of the study. "However, unlike when you sleep, consciousness is fully maintained in meditation, so there is no grogginess upon 'awakening.'" For regular, highly experienced meditators, the benefits to memory can be substantial.

A 2004 University of Wisconsin, Madison study discovered that the brains of long-term Buddhist practitioners who have meditated every day for many years generated the highest levels of gamma waves--a pattern of brain activity that's associated with attention, working memory, and learning--ever reported in other studies. Good sources to help you get started: A Woman's Book of Meditation: Discovering the Power of a Peaceful Mind by Hari Kaur Khalsa

Control Your Cholesterol

A healthful cholesterol level is as essential for mental sharpness as it is for cardiovascular efficiency. When plaque, caused by "bad" LDL cholesterol, builds up in blood vessels, it can hinder circulation to the brain, depriving it of essential nutrients. One possible consequence: memory problems.

"It doesn't take much plaque to block the tiny blood vessels in the brain," explains Aaron P. Nelson, PhD, chief of psychology and neuropsychology at Brigham and Women's Hospital in Boston. "In addition, several studies have shown that high cholesterol is a risk factor for Alzheimer's disease." While that connection is not fully understood, the take-home is clear: Get your cholesterol checked regularly; if it's high, work with your doctor to lower it.

Double-Check Your Meds

One side effect of taking many prescription and over-the-counter drugs can be a worrisome increase in memory lapses. Antidepressants, antianxiety drugs, antispasmodics, beta-blockers, chemotherapy, Parkinson's medications, sleeping pills, ulcer medications, painkillers, antihistamines, and even statins can all affect your memory, says Gary Small, MD, chief of the UCLA Memory and Aging Research Center and author of The Longevity Bible: 8 Essential Strategies for Keeping Your Mind Sharp and Your Body Young.

As you get older, drugs tend to stay in your system for a longer period of time, increasing the likelihood of troublesome interactions. Fortunately, any drug-related impairment will likely improve as soon as the drug is discontinued. "Speaking with your doctor about adjusting your dose or switching medications is often a simple solution," says Small.

Munch an Apple

A couple of apples a day may keep the neurologist away. "Apples have just the right dose of antioxidants to raise levels of acetylcholine, a neurotransmitter that's essential to memory and tends to decline with age," says Tom Shea, PhD, director of the University of Massachusetts Lowell Center for Cellular Neurobiology and Neurodegeneration Research. In addition, antioxidants in apples help preserve memory by protecting brain cells against damage from free radicals created by everyday metabolic action, such as the processing of glucose by the body's cells.

A study Shea coauthored with Amy Chan, PhD, published last year in the Journal of Alzheimer's Disease, found that mice suffering from the equivalent of normal human age-related memory loss or early Alzheimer's disease got a memory boost when they consumed a daily dose of apple juice. After just 1 month, those mice did a far superior job on a maze, which tests short-term memory, than the animals that didn't get the drink. Shea has begun clinical trials to determine whether humans get a similar benefit. In the meantime, he recommends consuming two or three apples or two 8-ounce glasses of apple juice each day; even one will give your brain a good lift.

Rev up Your Heart

Old-fashioned cardio can also keep your memory spry by improving a number of aspects of brain functions. Last year, researchers from the University of Illinois, Urbana, put two groups of older, healthy adult volunteers on different regimens. One group did aerobic training three times a week for 1 hour; the other did non-aerobic stretching and toning.

MRIs taken after 3 months showed that the aerobics group actually increased their brains' volume (which could reflect new neurons or cells) and white matter (connections between neurons) in the frontal lobes, which contribute to attention and memory processing. The aerobic exercisers, who ranged from age 60 to 79, had the brain volumes of people 2 to 3 years younger, said Arthur Kramer, PhD, who reported his results in the Journal of Gerontology: Medical Sciences. Taking a 1-hour walk at a brisk, slightly breathless pace three times a week will likely confer the same benefits.

Believe In Your Brain

Do you find yourself worrying about forgetfulness? Give it up! Any anxiety you feel about your occasionally wayward memory later in life may actually make it worse. In a recent North Carolina State University study published in Psychology and Aging, healthy older folks scored poorly on memory tests after being informed that aging causes forgetfulness.

When another group was told that there wasn't much of a decline in their recall abilities with age, however, they scored 15% higher--even better than a control group told nothing about memory and age. "Believing in negative stereotypes can be a self-fulfilling prophecy," says head researcher and psychology professor Thomas M. Hess, PhD. "That's a shame because your memory probably isn't nearly as bad as you fear it is."

High-Tech Brain Power

Your teen knows best: Video games are good for your brain What's an eight-letter word for brain booster? The answer could be Nintendo. Experts say playing one of the new games specially designed to improve your focus could have the indirect effect of getting your memory in shape.

"Whenever you solve puzzles or do brainteasers, you're making the connections between your neurons work more efficiently, which is like putting money in the bank," says Stuart Zola, PhD, an Alzheimer's researcher at Emory University. But if you get too good at one game, quickly proceed to the next level, or try a new one altogether. Your brain is very much like a muscle: It needs constant challenge to grow. For starters, try: Nintendo's Brain Age, a computer game featuring a set of fun reading and mathematical exercises to be done every day.

A "virtual mental gymnasium" at My Brain Trainer, where you can calculate your "brain age" and work to lower it. Check out our selection of games from the "brain fitness" experts at Happy Neuron.

Buyer Beware: Ginkgo biloba Should you take ginkgo biloba for a memory boost? These experts make a less-than-compelling case for the supplement. Maybe: "The jury is still out. Some studies suggest that ginkgo is useful, but more research needs to be done. If you're going to take ginkgo, you should do it with caution. It has side effects, such as reducing the ability of your blood to clot, that could be a problem if you take aspirin or a blood thinner.

So check with your doctor to make sure it won't interact with your medications." --Stuart Zola, PhD, codirector of the Alzheimer's Disease Research Center at Emory University No: "A National Institute on Aging study published in the Journal of the American Medical Association found absolutely no memory benefits when normal people take ginkgo biloba supplements.

And, as is true with all herbal supplements, which are unregulated, you can never be certain what you're getting in the bottle. Consumers should be very wary." --Aaron P. Nelson, PhD, assistant professor, and author of The Harvard Medical School Guide to Achieving Optimal Memory

Glass of Red for your Head
Here's a pleasing Rx for boosting brainpower: Flex your noodle by doing crossword puzzles and brain teasers for an hour or so, then cool down with a glass of wine--it, too, may help preserve your memory. According to research done by Philippe Marambaud, PhD, a compound in red wine, resveratrol, may help ward off Alzheimer's disease. Marambaud, a senior research scientist at New York's Litwin-Zucker Research Center for the Study of Alzheimer's Disease and Memory Disorders, found in lab experiments that resveratrol hampered the formation of beta-amyloid protein, a key ingredient in plaque found in the brains of people who die with Alzheimer's disease.

Alcohol's benefits to the heart--it can help lower cholesterol levels--may also protect against memory loss by improving circulation to the brain, says Aaron Nelson, PhD. But remember, everything in moderation: "Drinking more than a glass won't help, and it just might hurt."

Reasons Why I Love CraigsList

Now, mind you, I have never actually BOUGHT anything from Craigslist, but you know what? A whole heck of a lot of people do. And quite a few of them have been buying stuff from me.

I've been cleaning, sorting, purging and making room in my storage room. I am now able to walk to where the Christmas totes and boxes are. A week ago I couldn't even see the Christmas stuff.

Yes, it's true. Cyndy Salzmann will be so proud of me, especially when she sees her name show up in her google alerts and comes to check out what I said about her. Hmmm, I'll have to remember that in the future. Fun way to attract people to my blog. (*lizzie Starr, are you reading your google alerts? Just checking.)

But I digress. Cyndy is a professional organizer and author of books on organization. I'd love to win her for a week -- or a weekend. And she offers good advice on getting rid of things that clutter your life and cause stress.

Anyone who knows me knows I'm a collector of just about everything. Well, as of now I am no longer a collector of Disney or Pixar toys or brass candlesticks. I sold a kitchen hutch a few weeks ago, also a wicker loveseat that was simply a place to pile clothes in my bedroom, and tons of other stuff is gone, too - toys, puzzles, games.


So why do I love selling things on Craigslist?

* I don't have to get ready for a garage sale
* I can list as few or as many as I want at a time
* I can change my mind and delete the listing (I've never done it, but it's a possibility)
* No gas usage - people drive to my house and take away their treasures
* People pay me cash for the stuff I don't need
* I can afford guilt-free pedicures
* I can treat my husband to a movie
* I've met really nice people
* I think it drives my neighbors crazy seeing all the cars coming and going
* My storage room is neat and tidy - I can walk in and find things
* My laundry room is cleared out
* I can park my car in the garage

This could get dangerous. "Honey, do you really need that drill? I can sell it!" LOL
But seriously, I'm in love. With Craig, whomever he may be - I have no clue.

See photos of stuff that is no longer cluttering my house and my pedicure I got today.

Tournament Weekend

Alexis is the one in blue.
It has been so windy here! In Alexis's Saturday games last week, she got three goals. Whoo hoo! On Sunday, she as the goalie for the first half, and every time she stopped the ball and threw it back out, the wind carried it right back toward the goal! The poor kid was so frustrated. The ball stayed near the goal box she was guarding nearly the entire half. But they only scored 2 points against her.


Just so happened the ball came out of bounds right where I was sitting in my comfy sling chair, so I got a fun shot of her throwing the ball back in.

Always check homework

Mommy is not a pole dancer. Mommy works at Home Depot. She was selling a shovel.

patience & wisdom

One of the greatest secrets of life is having both patience & wisdom...

Do it yourself home improvements

This is one of my favorites. Can you imagine the home inspection fellow stopping by?

And who do these belong to? Is there someone inside hobbling around without them?

Sometimes home improvement is an oxymoron. Sometimes the homeownwer is the moron.

Watch that first step

Home improvements?

I've Been Tagged

RULES OF TAGGING:

1. Link to the person who tagged you.
2. Post the rules on your blog.
3. Write six random things about yourself.
4. Tag six people at the end of your post.
5. Let each person know when he or she has been tagged.
6. Let the tagger know when your entry is up.

I was tagged by Anita Mae Draper, a lovely reader friend who has a review blog.

I've been blogging for quite a while. Is there anything most of you don't already know about me?

one - My RWA chapter has a fun incentive award program where we get silver charms for accomplishments. I'm the person in charge of the charm awards. Gee, me handling the bling, how unusual....

two - I have been scheduling and posting all the guest bloggers for Petticoats and Pistols for the past year, and I've had a chance to meet some great authors.

three - My favorite winter nail color is called Bagota Blackberry, and I'm wearing it already because I was tired of my summer color.

four - My current drink addiction is raspberry tea that I make by brewing 4 Luzianne decaf family size teabags in my iced tea maker, then adding two packets of sweetener (no aspertame) and 1 Walmart brand Raspberry Crystal Ice (plain label Crystal Light).

five - I'm teaching an FTHRW online class all next week

six - I'm currently reading Stolen Innocence, a true story about a girl growing up in a polygamist society and getting married off at age 14. It's really good.

Now I have to tag six people. Six? Yikes. And then let them know they've been tagged. Okay, here are my choices:

*lizzie Starr
Rebecca Ryan
Coolest Mommie
Ginger Simpson
Mary DeSive
Tina Gayle

Who made up these rules, anyway?

From Holly Jacobs: Once Upon A Thanksgiving

It's A Time For Giving And Receiving…Love


As if working and raising her family of five—four kids and one demanding cat—isn't enough, Samantha Williams has been volunteered to oversee a Thanksgiving pageant at her kids' school. So a relationship is the last thing on this stretched-too-thin single mother's mind.

Until she meets the new interim principal—sexy, single Harry Remington. Her childhood friend.

Harry is welcomed into Samantha's home as if he belonged. Being part of her sprawling family—even if it's only temporary—makes him realize how much he misses having a real home. Best of all, he and Samantha are starting to trust each other. How can he say goodbye to all that? How can he leave when he's just found the best reason of all to stay?

Holly says:

PTA Mommisms, TOP 10

I ran a little contest at eHarlequin.com inspired by my new trilogy. So how do you know you’re a PTA mom? Well...

YOU MIGHT BE A PTA MOM IF...

10. ...when you appear in the teacher's workroom all the teachers rush over to see what you brought them to eat. ~Ellen Too

9. ...you know the location of every public washroom in town---field trips help that along. ~Kaelee

8. ...you've dressed up in a grass skirt, aloha shirt, and carried around a pink, plastic, blowup dolphin as volunteer reader for the annual Scholastic book fair . . . in a snowstorm.~Shelley Burbank

7. ... your kids' friends call you "Mom." ~Patti Mann

6. You might be a PTA mom if you can sing "Found a Peanut" in your sleep. ~Jody

5. ...you take every school fundraiser to work and then end up having to carry in 100 tubs of frozen cookie dough ~Tammy

4. ...you've popped so much popcorn to sell on Fridays that when you go to the grocery store later that day, you notice people around you sniffing the air and saying, "Do you smell popcorn?" ~JV

3. ...the students wave in the hall and say, "HI Laminating Lady!" rather than "Mrs. ____" ~Donna Alward

2. ...you're so busy with PTA stuff that your husband has to dress out of the dryer in the mornings. ~JV
AND THE NUMBER ONE WAY TO KNOWTHAT YOU MIGHT BE A PTA MOM IS....

1. ... if you've ever forged another mom's name on a volunteer sheet. ~Ellen Hartman

Check out my new American Romance trilogy...Once Upon a Thanksgiving, Once Upon a Christmas, Once Upon a Valentine's...maybe you're a PTA mom too??

Go Bears! Adam

Here's Adam at his last game of th season.




And on the far left, see Adam sacking the opposing team's quarterback!

BLOGGING AT PETTICOATS & PISTOLS

I'm blogging about one of my favorite things to do at Petticoats and Pistols today.

The Magic of Christmas

CLICK HERE TO WATCH THE TRAILER FOR THE MAGIC OF CHRISTMAS

Ryan's Homecoming Night

After playing in the big football game and taking several hard knocks, here's Ryan and his date off to the homecoming dance and after parties. Mom said he did keep his curfew. Today is his mom's birthday.
Happy birthday, LeighAnn! You're a great mom and have some great-looking kids.
Not that I'm partial or anything. Love you.

One More Chance: BADLANDS BRIDE

Here's an opportunity to get one of my books you may have missed! Harlequin is reissuing a classic: BADLANDS BRIDE

SPECIAL RELEASES
SEPTEMBER '08
ISBN: 9780373361892 (#34)

Reporter Hallie Wainwright's introduction to the Wild West included traveling with a bevy of mail-order brides and shooting bandits. But it was the intimate "hello" in the arms of Cooper DeWitt that truly sent her heart racing—and made it all the more difficult for her to tell the brawny plainsman the truth….

When she jumped from the stage, shining with true grit and spewing tall tales, Cooper thought he just might have struck gold. Raised with the Sioux, Cooper needed a wife who could brave the frontier and corral his restless heart. The problem was, his would-be bride had no intention of marrying him!


ORDER THIS SPECIAL RELEASE FROM eHARLEQUIN.com



READ AN EXCERPT
CHAPTER ONE

Ignoring the reflection of the businesses across the street behind her and the words The Daily meticulously painted in gold and black lettering on the glass, Hallie Claire Wainwright observed herself in the window of her father's newspaper office. She adjusted the jacket of her carefully chosen two-piece fitted dress and smoothed a hand over her dark hair, fashioned into an uncharacteristically neat bun.

"I think I've earned the responsibility of reporting on the boxing matches," she said to her reflection. The sporting event would make the front page every day for weeks, and Hallie could think of nothing more exciting than seeing her name beneath the headline.

"I'm sure I could get interviews with the participants," she said convincingly. "Perhaps they'll share insights with me they wouldn't give the men." Forest green curtains obscured the interior of the newspaper office, but she didn't need to see in to picture her oldest brother, Turner, setting type and her father in the office beyond.

"I've been doing the menial jobs without complaint. It's time you gave me a chance. I'll do my best." Hallie gave her likeness a last confident nod and opened the door.

The reassuring smells of ink, paper and grease, which she'd grown up with, boosted her confidence. Turner didn't glance up as she strode pass the Franklin press to her father's office. She rapped twice and opened the door.

Samuel Wainwright glanced up and immediately returned his attention to the papers on his desk top.

"Father, I—"

"No."

Her mouth dropped open. "How do you even know what I was going to say?"

"You have that stubborn look on your face."

"I want to cover the boxing matches." She placed her fists on her hips. "Evan—" her lip curled around the name of the new apprentice "—gets all the good stories."

Samuel shifted his smoking cigar stub from one side of his mouth to the other and leaned back in his creaky leather chair. "Now, Hallie," he cajoled. "Don't get in a huff. You know it wouldn't be acceptable—or safe—for you to take up with that rowdy crowd in the Piedmont district. Any female in Boston with half a brain in her head wouldn't set foot within a mile of the place."

She rolled her eyes. "That's all the brain you give any woman credit for having."

He harrumphed, then shuffled through a stack of papers, finding one he wanted and ignoring her while he checked the list in his other hand against the sheet.

"Hello, Precious," Turner said, entering.

Hallie winced inwardly.

He'd rolled his white shirtsleeves back, and his dark hair stood up on his head in finger-combed waves. He handled the office work, overseeing the typeset and presses. "I want to check this against your copy," he said to their father.

Samuel extended a paper, and the two men concurred. Used to being ignored, Hallie sat on the corner of the ink-stained oak desk and crossed her arms over her chest, unwilling to acknowledge her father's wisdom in this particular case. So what if he was right for once? Her father and brothers, Charles and Turner, always came up with some inane reason that she couldn't handle a story, and ninety-nine out of a hundred times the real reason—the infuriating reason—was that she was a female.

Turner reached for a strand of Hallie's hair that had fallen loose. "You're a sight."

She batted his hand away.

"What are you pouting about now?"

"I'm not pouting."

He laughed. "You're mad as a March hare. Still in a fix over Evan? He says he can't sleep nights for the ringing in his ears. For the last week at supper, you've managed to discredit everything about the man, including his parentage."

Hallie uncrossed her arms and shot a glance at her father. He wore a smile of bored amusement. "I keep hoping someone around here will notice that he's not any more capable than I am."

"And as we've told you a thousand times," Turner said, raising a superior brow, "Father needed Evan."

She tried her best to swallow her resentment. Her father did need help, and she'd worked so hard to prove herself. Samuel had hired the young man to assist Charles with the reporting, so he could devote himself to the book work and editing. It hurt immeasurably that none of them had considered her for the position. And it frustrated her beyond words that they refused to listen to her reasoning.

It was one thing to constantly defer to her brothers, but now an outsider had displaced her! "Perhaps if I put on a pair of trousers, the lot of you will notice I have a whole brain in this head."

Turner scowled. "If you put on a pair of trousers, the men around here will notice more than that. And I'll have to turn you over my knee and discipline the object of their attention."

Hallie resisted the urge to stick her tongue out. Just because they treated her like a child didn't mean she'd give in and behave like one.

"Did you turn in the piece on the quilting society?" Turner asked.

"Now that was an unequaled challenge," she replied, tracing a worn scar on the desk top with an index finger. "Think it'll make the headlines tomorrow?"

"Look," her father said, interrupting. "Remember those classifieds we ran a while back? Here's more of the same."

Turner bent over the desk and read aloud. "'Bride wanted.' Another one—'Wife wanted to cook, do laundry and care for children."'

"What kind of self-respecting woman would answer an ad like that?" Hallie asked, frowning her distaste.

"A woman who wants a husband," Turner replied, directing a pointed glance at his sister. "Unlike you."

She ignored the familiar taunt. "It's barbaric."

"But newsworthy," her father added. He caught his cigar between two fingers and squinted at her through curls of blue-gray smoke. "Some of the young ladies at Miss Abernathy's Conservatory answered the last ads. Why don't you do a story on them, Hallie?"

"Really?" she asked, jumping up.

"I haven't seen anything in the other papers," he continued. "Maybe, for a change, we can print a story before they get the idea."

The assignment filled Hallie with a new sense of importance. The Daily was always trying to get the jump on the bigger papers, and even though the other newspapers always managed to edge them out, the Wainwrights had increased circulation over the past year. Any newsworthy story that first appeared in The Daily was a feather in their journalistic cap.

"I'll work on it right away." She kissed her father on the cheek and smugly tilted her chin on her way past Turner.

Samuel and Turner exchanged conspiratory grins. "How long do you think that will keep her out of our hair?" Turner asked.

Samuel ran a hand over his balding pate. "Let's hope until Evan has a foot in the door. It's hard enough being a cub, without having to deal with Hallie when she's got her hackles up."

"Well, then, we'll just have to keep her busy."

"Isn't it just the most romantic thing you've ever heard?" The young woman with golden hair and ivory skin ignored the cake and tea on the tiny table and stared vacantly across the front of the lace-decorated establishment where the ladies of Boston came to socialize over afternoon tea.

Hallie thought traveling to God-only-knew-where to marry a man she'd never laid eyes on was the most asinine thing she'd ever heard, but she politely refrained from saying so.

"Where are the northern Dakotas, anyway?" Tess Cor-dell asked, coming out of her dreamy-eyed trance. "One of the girls said up by the North Pole."

"I don't think it's quite that far." Hallie tried to recall her geography lessons. "It's far to the west and up north. Quite remote, I'm sure."

Tess took an envelope from her reticule and carefully removed and unfolded a letter. "His name is Cooper DeWitt. He has a stage line and a freight company, so he must be very wealthy." Her pale blue eyes took on that dreamy quality again. "The only thing he requested in a wife was that she be able to read and write. I think that's good, don't you? He doesn't sound like a demanding sort of fellow."

"Or discriminating," Hallie added.

"Right," Tess agreed, the comment apparently sailing over her head. "He's not superficial like most young men who care only that a woman be from a good family."

Hallie heard the resentment in her voice. Obviously Tess was not from a well-to-do family, or she wouldn't have responded to an ad from a desperate frontier man. "Does he say how old he is?"

Tess frowned at the paper momentarily. "No." Her expression brightened. "But he does mention that he's never had a wife, so he must be young."

Or uglier than a buck-toothed mule, Hallie thought more realistically. What was this poor girl getting herself into? She almost wanted to offer her assistance if the girl needed someone to provide for her so badly she was willing to do this. But she held her tongue. Her family had told her often enough that her thinking was not that of a typical twenty-year-old woman. Tess was obviously delighted with her plan. "What else does he say?"

"Only that the country is beautiful and that I would have everything that I need."

"How romantic." Hallie made a few notes on her tablet. "Are you worried about being so far from anyone you know?"

"Well..." Tess chewed her lower lip. "I don't have family, but a couple of the other girls have accepted positions in the same community, so we'll be traveling together. I'm sure Mr. DeWitt will see that I can visit from time to time."

Hallie noted the term accepted positions for later reference. "Are the other girls as excited as you?"

"Oh, yes!" Her pale eyes sparkled. "This is an adventure of a lifetime!"

"I want to speak with the others, too. Can you give me their names?" Hallie scribbled a list and thanked Tess for the interview.

Hallie met the other young women, then hurried home to write her article. The enormous, masculinely furnished house was quiet, as usual. She slipped into her father's study and seated herself in his oversize chair, arranging paper, pen and ink on the desk top. She loved the room, did her best thinking among the familiar heavy pieces with the Seth Thomas mantel clock chiming on the half hour.

Nearly three hours passed before Hallie noticed the time. Double-checking the information, wording and neat printing, she blotted the pages. Her father would undoubtedly cut it in half, but, pleased with her work, she delivered it to his office.

He read the pages while she waited. "This is just what we wanted, Precious," he commended her.

Gladdened at the acknowledgment, she ignored the patronizing nickname.

"Keep on this," he said.

"You mean...?"

"I mean follow up. Go with them when they shop for the trip, watch them pack, all that. We'll run a series on the brides, right up until you wave them off at the stage station."

Surprised and more than a little pleased, Hallie nodded. "All right." She patted the edge of the desk in satisfaction. "All right."

Hallie read her articles in print each day, delighting in the fact that her father hadn't cut more than a sentence or two. She was so delighted, she didn't allow the fact that her father's new apprentice was covering the boxing championships and making headlines nearly every other day upset her—too much.

The day before her subjects were due to leave, she stepped into the office early. On the other side of the partially open mahogany door her brothers' voices rose.

"I'll take this sentencing piece," Charles said. "I'll be at the courthouse this morning, anyway."

"Right," Samuel said. "Evan?"

"I still have the lawyer to interview and, of course, the matches tonight. I'll try not to take a punch myself this time."

Male laughter echoed.

"That's some shiner!" Charles said.

"Great coverage, son." Samuel added. "You'll do anything to get an unusual angle. That's the stuff good reporters are made of." The aromatic scent of his morning cigar reached Hallie's nostrils, and she paused, a hollow, jealous ache opening in her chest at her father's casual praise of Evan Hunter. "How many more matches?"

"Another week," Evan replied.

Hallie reached for the door.

"What're we gonna do with Hallie?" Turner's voice carried through the gap beside the door. "Her brides leave tomorrow."

Hallie stopped and listened.

"That turned out to be an excellent piece," Charles commented. "We've had good response."

"Plus we got the jump on the Journal," Samuel agreed.

"Who'd have thought that when you came up with something to keep her off Evan's back during the matches, we'd actually get a good piece of journalism?" She recognized Turner's voice.

They laughed again.

A heavy weight pressed upon Hallie's chest. Hurt and self-doubt squeezed a bitter lump of disappointment into her throat. Of all the patronizing, condescending, imperious—

They'd handed her the story like presenting a cookie to a toddler they didn't want underfoot! And now they gloated over their own superiority. Hallie had never felt so wretched...so cheated...so unimportant.

"Do we have any sources in the Dakotas?" Charles asked.

"Why?"

"The real story is on the other end of that stage line."

A moment of silence followed Charles's comment, wherein Hallie imagined them nodding piously at one another.

"Yes, when the men who sent for those gals set eyes on them," Samuel agreed. "No. We don't have anyone that far west."

"Too bad," Turner said.

"Too bad, indeed," Charles said. "We could have had a real follow-up story there."

"Let's just hope the Journal doesn't think of it." Samuel added.

Heartbroken, Hallie gathered her skirts and trod stealthily back out the front door. She walked the brick street without direction. It never entered her mind to go home. Her mother would only tell her as she always did that her father and brothers did such things for her own good. Clarisse Wainwright had been born and bred to be a genteel wife and a mother to Samuel's sons. The fact that Hallie had come along had been an inconvenience to all of them, or so Hallie saw it.

Hallie hadn't been born the proper gender to take a prominent place at the newspaper, as much as she wished to, as much as she knew the same amount of ink flowed through her veins as her brothers'. They'd patted her on the head and sent her on her way since she'd been old enough to toddle after them.

The truth lay on her crushed heart like lead. They would never see her as good enough, as equal, as valuable or necessary.

I missed My Fake Baby!

MY FAKE BABY – U.S. PREMIERE
Dolls may seem to be just a children's plaything, but a closer look reveals much more. This documentary delves into a small niche of adult women who collect and care for shockingly life-like baby dolls that cost hundreds of dollars. Known as “reborns,” some of these dolls have beating hearts and others have tiny veins. They are treated like real babies – with walks in the park, cuddles and regular diaper changes. The documentary follows several women including one who travels to Washington D.C. to pick up the fifth addition to her family of life-like dolls.

My Fake Baby premiered Wednesday, October 1, 9:00 p.m. ET/PT

I'm out of breath!

Whew, I'm getting whiplash dashing from one site to another talking about the new book in stores now!
Check out The Pink Heart Society blog today.
And I'm up at Petticpats and Pistols, too, blogging about the Fillies's first attempts at writing.

and see the fun trailer that Denise Lynn made us for The Magic of Christmas by clicking here.

on being yourself....

Stop over at cata-romance today!

I'm doing promo around the web this month for the release of The Magic of Christmas. Today I'm at cata-romance.

enjoy the show

Freaky cool to watch these gorgeous faces in a montage by Phillip Scott Johnson.
Watch their eyes.