An innocent trip to a second hand shop launches Carynn Cinnamon on a life altering adventure. Whisking her back in time to the 1600’s, she lands in the arms of a handsome witch who claims to be her husband. Is her heritage really tied to this man? Has she discovered her own wrinkle in time or is fate playing a cruel prank on this young witch? And what of his claim that the future of magic and witches everywhere depends on her next move? If she agrees to travel back in time again will she find true love or lose her heart and her life in the process?
If you’ve read any of my books, you know that I write about witches—nice witches thrown into every day dilemmas where their magic sometimes is and sometimes is not very helpful. Recently, I’ve had a new story buzzing around in my head, just ready to pop out. I can see my characters and yes, they have paranormal powers, in fact they’re all witches. I may throw in a warlock or two, although I’m not yet sold on that inclusion. I have a sense of where I want to take my characters, what conflicts they’ll meet along the way and even who my villains might be.
But I thought I’d try something different this time, something I’ve never done before. I thought I’d start with a house. Not just any house, but a place with its own personality. A house capable of hosting all sorts of exciting, mystically challenging; paranormal activity. The exact house to function as the hub of my story.
With this in mind, I went in search of the perfect abode for my witches to call home and that’s where I ran into my own dilemma . . . which house to choose? I combed various neighborhoods, searched the internet, looked through real estate sites and visited a historical site or two on a quest to find the right domicile. Once committed to a place, I think the rest of my story will naturally unfold itself.
I’m down to four houses scattered throughout Europe and the U.S.A. and I would love your input. Not only which house would you choose, but why? I chose each house for a different reason and I’ll be curious to learn which house captures your imagination.
One more thing, if you are curious about the stories I’ve written, you can find The Witches Of New Moon Beach in a new boxed set right now on Amazon and Smashwords. Take a look and let me know what you think.
Oh, and those of you who have been following my travels/struggles towards my sixty-fifth birthday – I’ve managed to complete every goal but one. I sadly have not lost my twenty pounds. However, not one to give up, I’m still working on it, including walking 45 minutes a day!
Happy New Year to you all and I can’t wait to hear from you!
Who knew that owning a pair of red shoes could create such magic – inspiring happiness, a feeling of gay abandon and a total fashion reawakening.
But that’s just what they did!
My quickly approaching sixty-fifth birthday motivated me to take on several life changing challenges. Challenges designed to force me to try something new, tackle a problem or simply focus more energy on self-improvement. And silly me, in order to keep myself honest, I chose to share my journey with all of you in my blog, Please Don’t Make Me Have To Learn How To Ride A Camel.
I set several personal goals to meet before lighting up my sixty-five B-Day candles and the clock has continued to click. My face gets red and my heart quickens with anxiety every time I think how soon April will be upon us. I’ve partially met some challenges, made progress on others, and with the purchase of my red shoes, I’ve completed two of the challenge, which included:
And what a thrill, this proved to be. As much as I longed to slip my feet into a pair of flashy Jimmy Choo’s, I just couldn’t muster the courage to spend $2,695.00 on a pair of red beaded stilettos. To be completely truthful, I’m not sure if I was more afraid of the price of the shoes or of tumbling off the glittering stilettos. Either way, I had to pass them by.
However, having taken on this challenge, I refused to back down. I didn’t give in and buy any old run-of-the-mill red pumps, nor did I give up and buy a pair of red Converse tennis shoes either. No way! I bought myself a pair of bright red boots. And to seal the deal, I wore them out to a formal Christmas dinner party and felt wonderful. Perhaps a bit over the top, but none the less eye catching, I danced around the room, kicking up my heels with my glass of Pinot Grigio in hand. Of course their bright color stood out against my black slacks and black velvet top, but what the heck – I took a chance and felt all the better for it.
And here’s the funny part, as I looked around the room, I recognized that I had become a member of the over sixty sisterhood of red shoes. I counted at least ten other women my age proudly sporting red footwear. High heels, low heels, sandals, tennis shoes and even a pair of red clogs all joined in celebrating the night with me and my boots.
Now the writer in me wanted to go around the room and ask why these women had chosen to wear red footwear, but the realist recognized it for what it was. We were all searching for a fun way to celebrate life… and that’s just what we did in our playful red footwear. I’m sure that there was more than one envious woman who left the party anxious to hurry out to buy their own red boots. How could they resist?
I’ve still got sixteen pounds to go, more time walking required and a book to finish editing before April comes. Fingers crossed, I’ll make it! In the mean time, I’m partying away in my red boots. You should try it too!
Happy Holidays to you all!
It was Sunday night before I knew it and I still hadn’t finished rewriting the next chapter of my book, nor my blog for a Slice of Orange. I was stuck, the clock was ticking and I had no one to blame but myself. I’d made too many alternate life choices this month when I should have been writing!
You might have seen my blog last month (Please Don’t Make Me Have To Learn How To Ride A Camel) where I shared with you that I’m turning sixty-five in a few months and I’ve set all these goals for myself. My conscience is killing me as I check back in with you.
Over the past month, not only have I not spent enough time writing, I’ve sadly made no noticeable downward movement on the bathroom scale. I have been walking as you can see from the attached picture. And walking on the beach requires a lot more hard work, although my FitBit refuses to take that into consideration. Traitor!
Tonight I discovered that one of the goals I’d made turned out to be a bit wonky. And although I could use it as a time consuming excuse for not writing… I won’t. I have to admit that I got swept up by the title of a book and made a big assumption. I thought that it sounded like a motivational piece that might help me to focus on personal self-improvement strategies. I said I was going to read Paul Arden’s best seller – It’s Not How Good You Are, It’s How Good You Want To Be. And I did and I liked it. Only it wasn’t what I thought it would be. It was designed for readers who want to improve their status in the workplace. I’m retired.
But wait, having read it once – it’s short – I returned and read it a second time searching for nuggets of guidance that might prove helpful… and I found some.
Keying on Arden’s last truth – “Ambition trumps talent”, I humbly got back to work, ambitiously typing away on the keyboard to write this blog. I even finished editing the next chapter of my book tonight, pleased that I’d re-found a bit of my writing JuJu in a most unexpected place.
I had a startling epiphany today. I realized that it’s six months and counting until the day I turn sixty-five years old. OMG, I cannot even relate to that number. I still see myself as that college girl who wore peasant blouses and sandals. My husband often says that I looked like a hippie the first time he saw me, but that is so not true.
Okay, I’m not foolish enough to miss the wrinkles that crinkle around my eyes when I smile or the blonde hair that has grown more gray than blonde with each passing year. But come on, in my heart of hearts, I’m still somewhere around twenty-five years old.
After accepting that I’m not as young as I used to be, I got a little melancholy today and resurrected an old journal I kept after graduating college. I couldn’t help but laugh revisiting some of the issues I wrote about with such heart stirring emotion. Okay, I admit it. I was a bit of a drama queen back then.
On the last few pages of my journal, I was surprised to find six goals that I pledged to accomplish before I turned thirty…I guess that thirty must have sounded old back then. As if!
These were my goals:
1)Get my Masters Degree – check.
2)Become the greatest high school teacher or counselor – check and check. That is, I became both a teacher and high school counselor. I know for a fact that I wasn’t the greatest by far, but I had a great time trying.
3)Get married – checkety, check, check – still going strong after thirty eight years!
4)Have kids – check times three. I squeaked by with this one, having my first child at thirty.
5)Write a book – I did not even remember writing down that goal, but check.
How I raced so swiftly through the past wonderful, challenging, joyful, trying, amazing years is a mystery to me. But with the understanding that the clock is still ticking and not wanting to waste even a minute, I thought I better get cracking and come up with a few new short term goals that I might actually accomplish by the time I turn sixty-five.
Goals To Be Accomplished Over The Next Six Months & Before I Turn Sixty-Five.
1)Walk thirty minutes a day at least five days a week. Since I spend so much time sitting, either writing or sewing this will be one big chunk of a goal for me to reach.
2)Finish writing my book, The Witch of Bergen. This is also a tough one as I have been working on rewrites for what seems like forever! I’m keeping my fingers crossed that some kind of magic kicks in soon.
3)Read Paul Arden’s best seller – It’s Not How Good You Are, It’s How Good You Want To Be. I understand that it’s an engaging book with tons of clues for positive self- improvement and I’m always looking for ways to improve myself.
4)Lose twenty pounds. Or at least make attempts to lose twenty pounds – after all, I am a realist.
5)Buy a pair of flashy red shoes. Why? Just because I’d really like a pair of red shoes and I’m getting older and better do this before I’m too ancient to actually look good in wild and crazy red shoes! Perhaps I better just look for some red tennis shoes.
You may have noticed that I only have five goals. I have yet to finalize the sixth one. Learn how to bake, fly a plane, ride a camel? Perhaps you have an idea or two that you’d like to share, especially since I really don’t want to have to learn how to ride a camel.
Will they have a normal Christmas? Probably not.More info →
Her quirky assignment: solve a famous cold-case mystery for a magazine article. Then the killer reawakens.More info →