tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-73371027288623013062024-02-07T17:08:14.866-05:00Scarlett Rains Sisters of the Hearts Blog<b>Welcome to my blog. You will find writings, musings, poems, reviews and blogging tips here.
Thank you for stopping in. Your comments are appreciated. Blessings to you.</b>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14405923622590679339noreply@blogger.comBlogger89125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337102728862301306.post-69077894921521003092015-01-14T10:27:00.000-05:002015-01-16T10:28:55.829-05:00Stop in at my "nomination" event<br />
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<span style="color: #990000;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;">Stop by</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;">my <a href="http://fb.me/3gtpSV81t" target="_blank">Facebook</a> </span></span></span></span></h3>
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<span style="color: #990000;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;">and </span><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/event/show/951777-nominate-scarlett-s-new-book?utm_medium=email&utm_source=copypasteevent" style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;" target="_blank">Goodreads</a><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span></span></h3>
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<span style="color: #990000;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">events and wish me well.</span></span></span></h3>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">Hi everyone,</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">Stop in at my "nomination" event for</span><br />
<b><span style="background: white; color: #990000; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">The Scandalous Escapades of Lady Prudence</span></b><span style="background: white; color: #141823; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">, my latest book in the Sisters of the Heart series. I'm so excited! The book is being considered for a publishing contract by Amazon.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Your nomination at</span><span class="apple-converted-space" style="color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="background: white; color: #3b5998; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif";"><a href="http://ow.ly/GablV"><b>http://ow.ly/GablV</b></a></span></span><span style="color: #141823; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><b> </b><span style="background: white;">will help to convince them to publish it.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #141823; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">It will<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="textexposedshow">just take a second to nominate. All you do is open the link above, click “nominate”, sign in to your Amazon account, and click “nominate” again.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #141823; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">If I am awarded a contract, you get a free ebook.</span></span></div>
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<span class="textexposedshow"><span style="background: white; color: #141823; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Thanks for your support.</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white; color: #141823; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"> </span></span></div>
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<span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white; color: #141823; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="color: #3b5998; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17.9200000762939px;"><b><a href="https://www.facebook.com/ScarletRains.Author">Scarlett Rains, Author</a></b></span></span></span></div>
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<em>Thank you so much for your comment at Scarlett Rains Sisters of the Hearts Blog. Every comment is read and appreciated. </em><br />
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<span style="color: #990000;"><span style="color: black;">or b</span><strong><em><span style="color: black;">y</span> </em></strong><span style="color: blue; font-family: Consolas; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Consolas;"><a href="mailto:red.rain@sbcglobal.net"><span style="color: #45818e; font-size: small;">email</span></a></span></span><span style="color: black;"> . <em>Hope to see you again soon!</em> </span></div>
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<div class="blogger-post-footer">http://scarlettrainssistersoftheheartsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default
Please, subscribe and spread the love.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14405923622590679339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337102728862301306.post-19040106719267515382015-01-13T10:03:00.000-05:002015-01-16T10:10:18.548-05:00My latest book is being considered for a publishing Contract. You can help!<table border="1" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="MsoTableGrid" style="border-collapse: collapse; border: none; mso-border-alt: solid windowtext .5pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-yfti-tbllook: 1184;"><tbody>
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<span style="color: #990000;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;">Stop by</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;">my <a href="http://fb.me/3gtpSV81t" target="_blank">Facebook</a> </span></span></span></span></h3>
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<span style="color: #990000;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;">and </span><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/event/show/951777-nominate-scarlett-s-new-book?utm_medium=email&utm_source=copypasteevent" style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;" target="_blank">Goodreads</a><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span></span></h3>
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<span style="color: #990000;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">events and wish me well.</span></span></span></h3>
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<b><span style="background: white; color: #990000; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">The Scandalous Escapades of Lady Prudence</span></b><span style="background: white; color: #141823; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">, my latest book in the Sisters of the Heart series, is being considered for a publishing contract by Amazon. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Your nomination at</span><span class="apple-converted-space" style="color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="background: white; color: #3b5998; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif";"><a href="http://ow.ly/GablV"><b>http://ow.ly/GablV</b></a></span></span><span style="color: #141823; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><b> </b><span style="background: white;">will help to convince them to publish it.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #141823; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">It will<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="textexposedshow">just take a second to nominate. All you do is open the link above, click “nominate”, sign in to your Amazon account, and click “nominate” again.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #141823; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">If I am awarded a contract, you get a free ebook.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #990000;"><span style="color: black;">or b</span><strong><em><span style="color: black;">y</span> </em></strong><span style="color: blue; font-family: Consolas; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Consolas;"><a href="mailto:red.rain@sbcglobal.net"><span style="color: #45818e; font-size: small;">email</span></a></span></span><span style="color: black;"> . <em>Hope to see you again soon!</em> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">by </span><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3075.John_Irving"><span style="font-size: large;">John Irving</span></a><br />
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As a person reared in an orphanage, this one struck a chord. Read my review <a href="http://scarlettrainsreviews.blogspot.com/2014/04/scarlett-reviews-cidar-house-rules.html" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
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<span style="color: #990000;"><span style="color: black;">or b</span><strong><em><span style="color: black;">y</span> </em></strong><span style="color: blue; font-family: Consolas; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Consolas;"><a href="mailto:red.rain@sbcglobal.net"><span style="color: #45818e; font-size: small;">email</span></a></span></span><span style="color: black;"> . <em>Hope to see you again soon!</em> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">by </span><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3472.Margaret_Atwood"><span style="font-size: large;">Margaret Atwood</span></a><br />
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I own a copy of this book and found it fascinating.<br />
Read my review <a href="http://scarlettrainsreviews.blogspot.com/2014/04/scarletts-review-of-alias-grace.html" target="_blank">here</a>.</div>
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<span style="color: #990000;"><span style="color: black;">or b</span><strong><em><span style="color: black;">y</span> </em></strong><span style="color: blue; font-family: Consolas; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Consolas;"><a href="mailto:red.rain@sbcglobal.net"><span style="color: #45818e; font-size: small;">email</span></a></span></span><span style="color: black;"> . <em>Hope to see you again soon!</em> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">by </span><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5179624.Bonnie_Bernard"><span style="font-size: large;">Bonnie Bernard</span></a><br />
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I loved <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/20436636.Road_Rash" title="Road Rash by Bonnie Bernard">Road Rash</a>!<br />
Look for my review <a href="http://scarlettrainsreviews.blogspot.com/2014/04/road-rash-is-quick-fun-read-for-adults.html?utm_source=BP_recent&utm-medium=gadget&utm_campaign=bp_recent" target="_blank">here</a>. </div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">by </span><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7031886.Crystal_Clifton"><span style="font-size: large;">Crystal Clifton</span></a><br />
<br />
Read my review of this sweet children's story <a href="http://scarlettrainsreviews.blogspot.com/2014/04/scarletts-review-of-thimble-kisses.html" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
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Please, subscribe and spread the love.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14405923622590679339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337102728862301306.post-12324841884035462042014-02-04T09:00:00.000-05:002014-02-04T17:14:59.178-05:00How to Share a Facebook Page or Banner that has your Like Button on it. And...check out the Giveaway and Tour Schedule<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQOMFyYTv44RDeMyA0cVThVTuI8VYRs3PMc_BzCJZA4lkf7UcCsPvvrPQK9RC35fzvXwah6eL-uMFcYtCX19yK0ECnvusjJ8wHmqUIzhfwV3W3HXebB5gE187gmyA115tyIxZnMSFJmig/s1600/perfectwritingpicScarlett.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQOMFyYTv44RDeMyA0cVThVTuI8VYRs3PMc_BzCJZA4lkf7UcCsPvvrPQK9RC35fzvXwah6eL-uMFcYtCX19yK0ECnvusjJ8wHmqUIzhfwV3W3HXebB5gE187gmyA115tyIxZnMSFJmig/s1600/perfectwritingpicScarlett.jpg" height="250" width="160" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Hello fellow authors.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Today’s tip to increase your Facebook fan page popularity (meaning to increase your page visibility and the number of page likes) involves sharing your page or banner to your own Newsfeed, and/or a friend’s page, and/ or to a group of which you are a member.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The idea here is that you share your page banner several places and friends see it and ‘Like’ it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The flip side of it is that friends may share their page banner to your page.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In this way, all parties benefit. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">So, how the heck do you do this sharing thing? I’ve discovered two ways to share a page or banner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The first method doesn’t work all the time. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I believe it works only on older Facebook accounts?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The second method worked on all my pages.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ll share both and you can choose what works for you</span>.</div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000;">Method One:<o:p></o:p></span></h3>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">From the <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><em>Admin Panel</em></b> of the page you want to share go to <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><em>Build Audience</em></b>, drop down to <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><em>Share Page</em></b>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Continue with Method Two instructions below, starting with number 3.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidyiBOvs9ekw9GqXpJVBDai9dwCSgUjbPEdLm5pSdp_SmpqRbYfee1I__nUgI1zRjlg3y2tMdudZyjf7eeYgbQ2Ye6CGDeWHrGuLlaEWEvqqEzwle5PnmROu8_2mIBowXfEW-dyxwTwcs/s1600/scarlettsharepagelikebadge.2png.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidyiBOvs9ekw9GqXpJVBDai9dwCSgUjbPEdLm5pSdp_SmpqRbYfee1I__nUgI1zRjlg3y2tMdudZyjf7eeYgbQ2Ye6CGDeWHrGuLlaEWEvqqEzwle5PnmROu8_2mIBowXfEW-dyxwTwcs/s1600/scarlettsharepagelikebadge.2png.png" height="60" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000;">Method Two will work if your Build Audience menu does not contain the Share Page option:<o:p></o:p></span></h3>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Go to the Fan page you want to share and find the little wheel image that is to the right of <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><em>Message</em>.</b></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxAO3ycZczJI0P8Nf8Z8IuMRQruwE9LHYmeRXgaXktvt72tJDkTR-eGUkiC37L03VHie-lvWmMIlbmOHwOm6DsdGOAlDmgmvcyC05a-NUTl3gWzN1K6js35mVqBDNLBGAGkiV53Ex2r4c/s1600/ShareMethod2-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxAO3ycZczJI0P8Nf8Z8IuMRQruwE9LHYmeRXgaXktvt72tJDkTR-eGUkiC37L03VHie-lvWmMIlbmOHwOm6DsdGOAlDmgmvcyC05a-NUTl3gWzN1K6js35mVqBDNLBGAGkiV53Ex2r4c/s1600/ShareMethod2-1.jpg" height="168" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Click on the little triangle to open the drop-down menu.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigS4Guzg5RhO1pJZPbPowVJg_r83bTHUlFkFq_lK-0UM9RFZBQEi1GnuSi9Q2RegUJva-aCf3pgyHzPpX1Ranmz2cjuGL8A-heV7i_6RHHdAbseOqrQqg990vWSCtauU_9x2jnrj_RQvo/s1600/ShareMethod2-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigS4Guzg5RhO1pJZPbPowVJg_r83bTHUlFkFq_lK-0UM9RFZBQEi1GnuSi9Q2RegUJva-aCf3pgyHzPpX1Ranmz2cjuGL8A-heV7i_6RHHdAbseOqrQqg990vWSCtauU_9x2jnrj_RQvo/s1600/ShareMethod2-2.jpg" height="155" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Select from the <strong><em>Share this Page</em></strong> drop down menu to share on your own timeline, to a friend’s page or group. I suggest you share to all three locations. Make sure you click <em><strong>Share Page </strong></em>to finish. You will see a pop-up message that tells you the post was successfully shared.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIuDO_JcXjNmP7a4AkfNKTYHTco-hCQaNwNVW9r4S2ASLVmScU1ItCakP7Ch3jn-YNAWpaGx3TCRsXL695RATKeva8qFD8xt3eQSoxfgswDYU3U9Yi6duyRZ7g4XOxdCUy9xY-IMyod8U/s1600/scarlettsharepagelikebadge.3png.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIuDO_JcXjNmP7a4AkfNKTYHTco-hCQaNwNVW9r4S2ASLVmScU1ItCakP7Ch3jn-YNAWpaGx3TCRsXL695RATKeva8qFD8xt3eQSoxfgswDYU3U9Yi6duyRZ7g4XOxdCUy9xY-IMyod8U/s1600/scarlettsharepagelikebadge.3png.png" height="214" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">This is what the result looks like from the receiving end of your sharing.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><o:p><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWJjcrJOSy94vcKPe9uu6sgvYiM5EdjEcbmCcOIpsqG21pSG_MnH-T7gIAsq-B4t-IOwpZwBVK5-lH57o-LWbulgsJcA1WFBUinJlGsib_DNm7N4C383c2QjHsYfTMXYHGBZ-RZSn9mfA/s1600/ShareMethod2-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWJjcrJOSy94vcKPe9uu6sgvYiM5EdjEcbmCcOIpsqG21pSG_MnH-T7gIAsq-B4t-IOwpZwBVK5-lH57o-LWbulgsJcA1WFBUinJlGsib_DNm7N4C383c2QjHsYfTMXYHGBZ-RZSn9mfA/s1600/ShareMethod2-3.jpg" height="147" width="320" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I hope these tips increase your Facebook popularity by leaps and bounds and wish you great success. Remember, success is always best when shared with fiends. I am delighted to share an opportunity for you to win my books. Don't forget to enter the giveaway below by clicking on the Rafflecopter link. Please, check the tour schedule below and stop in and visit with my tour hosts. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Best of luck, friend.<br />
</span><b><span style="color: #cc0000;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">~Scarlett</span> </span></b><br />
<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #cc0000;">Enter for chance to win fun prizes!</span></h2>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><a class="rafl" href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/66b8238/" id="rc-66b8238" rel="nofollow">a Rafflecopter giveaway</a></span></div>
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<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: x-large;">Follow the Tour</span> </h2>
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<a href="http://artemisbooksblog.blogspot.com/">Artemis Books Featured Author</a> </div>
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Jan 27th</div>
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<span style="color: #990000;"><span style="color: black;">or b</span><b><i><span style="color: black;">y</span> </i></b><span style="color: blue; font-family: Consolas; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Consolas;"><a href="mailto:red.rain@sbcglobal.net"><span style="color: #45818e; font-size: small;">email</span></a></span></span><span style="color: black;"> . <i>Hope to see you again soon!</i> </span></div>
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Please, subscribe and spread the love.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14405923622590679339noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337102728862301306.post-41987009484518244022014-02-02T09:00:00.000-05:002014-02-02T20:34:22.082-05:00How Authors can Make Social Media a Win-Win for Everyone Involved<div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMobEpcPT9EvwMIC3TJwBjStd53NmL4hwEyvch7HWZr7hlT0SS0hrgzoBx_ztfU_wFNlBdPS-fUOgfVn_3__ZYPUptaysoG1dfrdE1bH6OeBgOM0okRq4DhjsVTX5fmtrb65X1S6kD6DE/s1600/perfectwritingpicScarlett.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; margin-top: 0.5em;"><img border="2" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMobEpcPT9EvwMIC3TJwBjStd53NmL4hwEyvch7HWZr7hlT0SS0hrgzoBx_ztfU_wFNlBdPS-fUOgfVn_3__ZYPUptaysoG1dfrdE1bH6OeBgOM0okRq4DhjsVTX5fmtrb65X1S6kD6DE/s1600/perfectwritingpicScarlett.jpg" height="290" width="180" /></a>Have you ever visited an author's Facebook page and noticed that every posting on their page is self-promotion? I don't know about you but that totally turns me off and suggests all sorts of negative character traits. BUT! We must not judge, right? Perhaps these folks aren't selfish, they may simply have no idea how to make social media a win-win for everyone. I'm here to help. First, let me say that I am not a Facebook, or marketing, expert.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am sharing what I have learned and hope will be of benefit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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Here are my suggestions for making social media benefit all parties so that you help yourself and other authors or artist friends when you use Facebook. They involve using the <span style="color: #134f5c;"><i><b>Like, Comment</b></i> </span>and <span style="color: #134f5c;"><b><i>Share</i></b></span> functions on posts.</div>
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<span style="color: #134f5c;"><b>Click the Like button with wild abandon! </b></span></h3>
<ul><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBpoBXT1d0rqVhmD5yydwdQMnXeBjucMpEKQR2GlkoyM-YFP8PdUVYgY2BC1qUKTNBN9vm7jH4gmMfBkJsHf0A56ByM-jzn-MmAZVg-dszpWYMn4PNpW0q_se3o9-MQStagQG9HnCGTx4/s1600/scarlettkissedcat1.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="2" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBpoBXT1d0rqVhmD5yydwdQMnXeBjucMpEKQR2GlkoyM-YFP8PdUVYgY2BC1qUKTNBN9vm7jH4gmMfBkJsHf0A56ByM-jzn-MmAZVg-dszpWYMn4PNpW0q_se3o9-MQStagQG9HnCGTx4/s1600/scarlettkissedcat1.png" height="330" width="223" /></a>
<li><div style="text-align: justify;">
Click the <b><i>‘Like’</i></b> button under the banner on the professional pages of authors.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some naughty authors make these very hard to find.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Look under the <i><b>‘About’ </b></i>section on their home page and you <i>may</i> find their professional pages there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you hover over the page the <b>'Like’</b> button will appear. All you have to do is just click that button.</div>
</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">Click <b><i>'Like'</i></b> under different pictures or posts on the author’s page.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In other words, the word <b><i>Like </i></b>anywhere is an invitation to click. In a matter of seconds, you can scroll through the author's page and just click on things that interest you. (After you click the like button it will change to <b><i>'Unlike'</i></b>. Don't worry, that is OK. It just flags you that you have already liked that comment or image.)</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">Why bother with this? The page owner gets a notification that you <b><i>'Liked'</i> </b>something on their page. They then should come over to your page and show how much they like you in return. This is social marketing.<b> </b></li>
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<span style="color: #134f5c;"><b>Comment on different posts that interest you on an author's page.</b></span></h3>
<ul>
<li> Click the <i><b>'Comment'</b></i> button and a dialogue box will open. Type your comments and click enter.</li>
<li>Click <b><i>'Reply</i></b>' under other people's comments and a comment box opens for you.</li>
<li> I try to include and bring people into discussion by<i> <b>tagging</b></i> them in my comment or reply. Tagging is easy. Just use the @name-of-person format and whoever you named (tagged) gets a notification on their page and typically they then reply directly to your comment on the post.</li>
<li>Why bother with this? This is not a trivial thing. It boosts virility of the page and is a means of actually getting to know the author.</li>
</ul>
<h3>
<span style="color: #134f5c;"><b>Click the ‘Share’ button under posts you like and share them to your page or the page of a friend.</b><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span> </span></h3>
<ul>
<li>I try to remember to credit the person I shared from by using the following format to tag them: @nameofperson.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This gives them increased visibility on Facebook and brings their attention to the post.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Authors love it when you share their posts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></li>
</ul>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih_Ac0iGjnWTB8pG2NymFvMpsOmxpxdjSU2iRP4ZsJ4WxcaudppAoog-Zhae6JOsNybnv2QC8_-5sI89tcoZUenvArW58orMNldRNR49zWkCpwCPDo8nPFFc3xTBYrPVlX-AhbI4z91KQ/s1600/scarlettkissedcat3share1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="2" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih_Ac0iGjnWTB8pG2NymFvMpsOmxpxdjSU2iRP4ZsJ4WxcaudppAoog-Zhae6JOsNybnv2QC8_-5sI89tcoZUenvArW58orMNldRNR49zWkCpwCPDo8nPFFc3xTBYrPVlX-AhbI4z91KQ/s1600/scarlettkissedcat3share1.png" height="188" width="320" /></a></div>
<ul style="text-align: justify;">
<li><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">Use the drop-down menu under <b><i>On your own timeline</i></b> to select where you want to send the shared information. You can share a post or picture to several pages. </span>I have shared some of my favorites onto 6 or 7 other pages. That is what it means to go viral and how you help that author grow a network of interested friends. </li>
</ul>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizI2fbkTzcre-47NK53p0SXkUMKbe_JCIQ1HRC8cp7vNbzrUjhvwSeF5AGQofnDEKTyhI9TyIX8k6x4NpaxNELHJBeN4E86Vz4hFv7R38EKYauCwDepOPyKSWIuEeSi3Nob6gO4a1fU2g/s1600/scarlettkissedcat3share2.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="2" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizI2fbkTzcre-47NK53p0SXkUMKbe_JCIQ1HRC8cp7vNbzrUjhvwSeF5AGQofnDEKTyhI9TyIX8k6x4NpaxNELHJBeN4E86Vz4hFv7R38EKYauCwDepOPyKSWIuEeSi3Nob6gO4a1fU2g/s1600/scarlettkissedcat3share2.png" height="183" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<ul>
<li>Make sure you click <i><b>Share Photo.</b></i> You will see a pop-up message that tells you the post was successfully shared. </li>
</ul>
<hr />
I hope these tips increase your Facebook popularity by leaps and bounds and wish you great success. Remember, success is always best when shared with fiends. I am delighted to share an opportunity for you to win my books. Don't forget to enter the giveaway below. Best of luck, friend.<br />
<b><span style="color: #cc0000;">~Scarlett </span></b><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a class="rafl" href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/66b8238/" id="rc-66b8238" rel="nofollow">a Rafflecopter giveaway</a></div>
<br />
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<i>Thank you so much for your comment at Scarlett Rains Sisters of the Hearts Blog. Every comment is read and appreciated. </i><br />
<span style="color: #990000;"><b><i>Don't forget to subscribe either by <a href="http://scarlettrainssistersoftheheartsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" target="_blank"><span style="color: #45818e;">RSS</span></a> feed </i></b></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #990000;"><span style="color: black;">or b</span><b><i><span style="color: black;">y</span> </i></b><span style="color: blue; font-family: Consolas; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Consolas;"><a href="mailto:red.rain@sbcglobal.net"><span style="color: #45818e; font-size: small;">email</span></a></span></span><span style="color: black;"> . <i>Hope to see you again soon!</i> </span></div>
</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">http://scarlettrainssistersoftheheartsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default
Please, subscribe and spread the love.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14405923622590679339noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337102728862301306.post-80137514132931626132014-01-31T02:46:00.000-05:002014-02-04T17:20:41.142-05:00My Blog Tour and Valentine's Day Giveaway have started....<div style="text-align: justify;">
Hello everyone. I had so much fun with the Book Blast that I just had to follow-up with another event. This one will be a little different in that we have scattered some <i>how-to</i> posts here and there on the tour that are designed to help authors learn how to help themselves while helping others: a win-win, if you will. I hope the tips help you and that you enjoy this tour and take time to get to know the tour hosts. They are terrific people. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Speaking of terrific people...I want to give a special thank you to my Artemis team for all their hard work putting this together. Carolyn and Roberta, you are troopers to forge on even when down with the flu. I appreciate you so much!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Now, on with the event. Don't forget to enter the giveaway. I wish you blessings and luck.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
~Scarlett</div>
<hr />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLJT5lx1Py4mJHpxhveEegK-GEiX56L-W-yHyr9elT_eiQEGhKJS2UwhT41ObNxStvPSuMswYquviyRsZ-lY2SKEYhnYU2Lne7t6jlmiLY78215RczlJIM4JagJGksRQ9EZ1xi53SjTJ4C/s1600/funkyblogtour-giveaway-sistersseriesdated.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLJT5lx1Py4mJHpxhveEegK-GEiX56L-W-yHyr9elT_eiQEGhKJS2UwhT41ObNxStvPSuMswYquviyRsZ-lY2SKEYhnYU2Lne7t6jlmiLY78215RczlJIM4JagJGksRQ9EZ1xi53SjTJ4C/s1600/funkyblogtour-giveaway-sistersseriesdated.jpg" height="150" width="400" /></a></div>
<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Follow the Tour</span> </h2>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://artemisbooksblog.blogspot.com/">Artemis Books Featured Author</a> </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Jan 27th</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://scarlettrainssistersoftheheartsblog.blogspot.com/">Scarlett Rains Sisters of the Hearts Blog</a> </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Jan 28th</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://lynelleclarkaspiredwriter.blogspot.com/">Aspired Writer</a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Jan 29th<br />
<br />
<a href="http://bookreviewsbylynn.blogspot.co.uk/">Book Reviews by Lynn </a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.4writersandreaders.com/"> </a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Jan 31st<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://scarlettrainssistersoftheheartsblog.blogspot.com/">Scarlett Rains Sisters of the Hearts Blog</a><br />
Feb 2nd<br />
<br />
<a href="http://touchofbookmadness.blogspot.com/">Touch of Book Madness </a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Feb 3rd <br />
<a href="http://scarlettrainssistersoftheheartsblog.blogspot.com/"><br />
</a> <a href="http://scarlettrainssistersoftheheartsblog.blogspot.com/">Scarlett Rains Sisters of the Hearts Blog</a><br />
Feb 4th<br />
<br />
<a href="http://bookreviewsbylynn.blogspot.co.uk/">Book Reviews by Lynn </a><br />
Feb 7th<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.4writersandreaders.com/"> </a></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.cluereview.blogspot.com/">Clue Review </a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Feb 8th<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.cluereview.blogspot.com/">Clue Review </a><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
Feb 9th<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://lynelleclarkaspiredwriter.blogspot.com/">Aspired Writer</a></div>
Feb 10th<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.cluereview.blogspot.com/">Clue Review </a><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
Feb 11th<br />
<br />
<a href="http://therisingmuse.com/">The Rising Muse </a><br />
Feb 12th<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.cluereview.blogspot.com/">Clue Review </a><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
Feb 13th<br />
<br /></div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://artemisbooksblog.blogspot.com/">Artemis Books Featured Author</a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Feb 14th </div>
<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Enter for chance to win fun prizes!</span></h2>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a class="rafl" href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/66b8238/" id="rc-66b8238" rel="nofollow">a Rafflecopter giveaway</a><br />
<script src="//d12vno17mo87cx.cloudfront.net/embed/rafl/cptr.js"></script><br /></div>
<br />
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<i>Thank you so much for your comment at Scarlett Rains Sisters of the Hearts Blog. Every comment is read and appreciated. </i><br />
<span style="color: #990000;"><b><i>Don't forget to subscribe either by <a href="http://scarlettrainssistersoftheheartsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" target="_blank"><span style="color: #45818e;">RSS</span></a> feed </i></b></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #990000;"><span style="color: black;">or b</span><b><i><span style="color: black;">y</span> </i></b><span style="color: blue; font-family: Consolas; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Consolas;"><a href="mailto:red.rain@sbcglobal.net"><span style="color: #45818e; font-size: small;">email</span></a></span></span><span style="color: black;"> . <i>Hope to see you again soon!</i> </span></div>
</div>
</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">http://scarlettrainssistersoftheheartsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default
Please, subscribe and spread the love.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14405923622590679339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337102728862301306.post-12964830399682070472014-01-27T11:09:00.003-05:002014-01-27T11:11:14.669-05:00My Book Blast Giveaway Reader Winners are Announced Today!<h3 style="text-align: justify;">
Congratulations and thank you to all participants. If you are a winner, you will be contacted by email today to verify. A follow-up email will then be sent which will contain your book.</h3>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a class="rafl" href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/66b8234/" id="rc-66b8234" rel="nofollow">a Rafflecopter giveaway</a></div>
<br />
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<em>Thank you so much for your comment at Scarlett Rains Sisters of the Hearts Blog. Every comment is read and appreciated. </em><br />
<span style="color: #990000;"><strong><em>Don't forget to subscribe either by <a href="http://scarlettrainssistersoftheheartsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" target="_blank"><span style="color: #45818e;">RSS</span></a> feed </em></strong></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #990000;"><span style="color: black;">or b</span><strong><em><span style="color: black;">y</span> </em></strong><span style="color: blue; font-family: Consolas; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Consolas;"><a href="mailto:red.rain@sbcglobal.net"><span style="color: #45818e; font-size: small;">email</span></a></span></span><span style="color: black;"> . <em>Hope to see you again soon!</em> </span></div>
</div>
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Please, subscribe and spread the love.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14405923622590679339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337102728862301306.post-4926574639505517792014-01-13T09:24:00.003-05:002014-01-13T09:28:04.771-05:00My Book Blast and Giveaway starts today!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<img alt="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=9141759010627857482#overview/src=dashboard" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQfYPFcQFTmbPXNDsUNqrbaW5iY5rNa9VjS2Vi68oo8lqktwdCidxZ8mmy0-gkb_EB0q9YD6_1ebLp94D3zWfsUuG87yg_6W6FGwS28Nz_-tj7LZbbQAluKykK5aoTYV6S1dlUgPzozEI/s320/bookblastgiveawaysistersseriesbanner.jpg" /></div>
<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Follow the Tour</span> </h2>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://artemisbooksblog.blogspot.com/">Artemis Books Featured Author</a> </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Jan 13th</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=7337102728862301306#overview/src=dashboard">Scarlett Rains Sisters of the Hearts Blog</a> </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Jan 14th</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.thenotsofamousauthorsblog.blogspot.com/">The Not so Famous Authors Blog</a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Jan 15th-17th</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.4writersandreaders.com/">4 Readers and Writers Blog</a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Jan 18th-20th</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.cluereview.blogspot.com/">Clue Review Blog</a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background: aqua; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif" mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-highlight: aqua;"><span style="background-color: white;">Jan 21st-23rd</span></span></div>
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<span style="background: aqua; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif" mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-highlight: aqua;"><span style="background-color: white;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="background: aqua; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif" mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-highlight: aqua;"><span style="background-color: white;"><a href="http://readmuse.blogspot.in/">Read Muse Blog</a></span></span></div>
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<span style="background: aqua; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-highlight: aqua;"><span style="background-color: white;">Jan 24th-26th</span></span></div>
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<span style="background: aqua; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-highlight: aqua;"><span style="background-color: white;"><a href="http://artemisbooksblog.blogspot.com/">Artemis Books Featured Author</a> </span></span></div>
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<span style="background: aqua; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-highlight: aqua;"><span style="background-color: white;">Jan 27th</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Enter for chance to win fun prizes!</span></h2>
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<a class="rafl" href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/66b8234/" id="rc-66b8234" rel="nofollow">a Rafflecopter giveaway</a></div>
<script src="//d12vno17mo87cx.cloudfront.net/embed/rafl/cptr.js"></script><br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://scarlettrainssistersoftheheartsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default
Please, subscribe and spread the love.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14405923622590679339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337102728862301306.post-11290283693447445992014-01-08T10:22:00.000-05:002014-01-08T10:22:02.350-05:00Bloggers have chances to win great prizes in my first Book Blast!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="http://artemisbooksblog.blogspot.com/"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGEQuWTYR5c-irESMWdO-wxwR3F5OCN6kyhnS9j9PZ7sRD2YkRf58aoqdlvblC9-HCqq8NILyM-4UdYfi1TZRJrdETgyybPkTakeR9o9EXAf_PHay2VPbC530thqKyvLuI3QYHsCQiawU/s1600/funkybookblastgiveawaysistersseriesbanner.jpg" height="150" width="400" /></a></div>
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<strong><span class="font-size-3">I am so excited, and nervous! This is my very first tour event. I'm relying heavily on Pepto and my friends to get me through this. :-)</span></strong><br />
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<strong><span class="font-size-3"><a href="http://artemisbooksblog.blogspot.com/">Artemis Books</a> is hosting my <a href="http://artemisbooksblog.blogspot.com/p/book-blast.html">Book Blast</a> (Jan 13th-Jan 26th) and <a href="http://artemisbooksblog.blogspot.com/p/be-tour-hostwould-you-like-to-join-our.html">Blog Tour</a> (Jan 27th- Feb 14th). Each event has an associated giveaway for participating bloggers and their readers. Check out the details of the first event below and the links attached for more information.</span></strong><br />
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<strong><span class="font-size-3">The following books from my Sisters of the Heart Series are included in the <a href="http://artemisbooksblog.blogspot.com/p/book-blast.html">Blast</a> and <a href="http://artemisbooksblog.blogspot.com/p/be-tour-hostwould-you-like-to-join-our.html">Tour</a>:</span></strong></div>
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<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Promises-Heart-Sisters-Book/dp/0615328911/ref=la_B005D5IQ1W_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1343143194&sr=1-1"><img border="2" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnpRI_dBDK-P3Ef-xr07eHQdE44wLnSuI6Gx53nZ5KMQjbycO9LxC8TehcPZMoB26qpSD1jZZxNwSLKhQc4S9lbYp-R6g8e4nna0px8d4V59bCFUcAhB6-RNkXzWk33ujhxn8c_qrIAdOA/s320/PromisesoftheHeartPhSh.jpg" height="220" width="125" /></a></div>
</td><td valign="top" width="101"></td><td valign="top" width="99"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Seduction-Bluestocking-Sisters-Heart-Book/dp/0983829608/ref=la_B005D5IQ1W_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1343143194&sr=1-2"><img border="2" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgouDaY0Jcrf0GICTLHRtI0_N2M8X9QlCWe_UB53yAgJCGneemjrD09dtFnPS3D8z_ej_tq2GX8aFHNrPmDsGEWvUKGjKSKSbJgUTblTzGdqSqMrZkZF5x1srJkhPBgT0KlDsKr9UhXNmX/s320/SeductionofBluestockingPhShop.jpg" height="220" width="125" /></a></td><td valign="top" width="120"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
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<a href="http://www.amazon.com/The-Finishing-Lady-Amelia-Betrayals/dp/0983829667/ref=la_B005D5IQ1W_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1343143194&sr=1-3"><img border="2" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghlOO12r4v9efU_1ZzFcWrIPAvFwHlXcQjlBMRDJHkxco8AiVxUTK4qjsZMZUxr0dZJjAgynWtVgmP_-sYyCe0JqiSulzgUrgeM8eo1c1YEK7gB-6oge_jc1Xb4o7YxchnASFV2BLMcowH/s320/FinishingFrontPhSh.jpg" height="220" width="125" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="color: #990000; font-size: large;"><a href="http://artemisbooksblog.blogspot.com/p/book-blast.html">Book Blast</a></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;"><u>January 13th to January 26th</u></span></b></div>
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<i><b><span style="color: #990000;">Prizes for Bloggers:</span></b></i></div>
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<li style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 25px;">I am giving a $25 Amazon Gift Card and a Sisters of the Heart series Ebook to the <b>two</b> winning bloggers in a <i><b>Blogging Buddies Giveaway</b></i>. </span><b style="line-height: 25px;"> </b></li>
<li style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 25px;">Bloggers involved in this Blast will receive publicity across all participating blogs in the form of an active hyperlink and will gain followers to the site of their choice as part of the RaffleCopter contest. </span><b style="line-height: 25px;"> </b></li>
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<b style="line-height: 25px;"><i><span style="color: #990000;">Prizes for Readers:</span></i></b></div>
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<li style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 25px;">A separate <i><b>Sisters of the Heart Book Blast G</b></i><b>iveaway</b> will also award one Ebook from the series to 12 readers as part of this Rafflecopter promotion.</span></li>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8pQ0TYrY7bFrMLUjRjQ3pSfHTSr-dKIVlAt3Q7QUtKHsP3xzqr3da11gxtMLxhREwlmwDU3-nMhtYMzXHWsvliPZ_ZW76hy9N3lercxsNpIh0cFjvRKQ5lsP5CLKfh-SYWSmQehsy3LU/s1600/funkyblastitsistersbutton.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a><b><a href="http://artemisbooksblog.blogspot.com/p/book-blast.html">Follow this link if you would like to participate</a>.</b></div>
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<b><a href="http://artemisbooksblog.blogspot.com/p/promo-materials.html">Sample promotional materials may be found here</a>. </b></div>
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Additional materials will be added soon. <br />
Information about the <a href="http://artemisbooksblog.blogspot.com/p/be-tour-hostwould-you-like-to-join-our.html">Blog Tour</a> will be coming shortly.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of several buttons you may use. :-)</td></tr>
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Wish me luck and, please, do what you can to spread the word about these events. All the best to each of you.<br />
<span style="color: #990000;"><b>~Scarlett</b></span></div>
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<em>Thank you so much for your comment at Scarlett Rains Sisters of the Hearts Blog. Every comment is read and appreciated. </em><br />
<span style="color: #990000;"><strong><em>Don't forget to subscribe either by <a href="http://scarlettrainssistersoftheheartsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" target="_blank"><span style="color: #45818e;">RSS</span></a> feed </em></strong></span><br />
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<span style="color: #990000;"><span style="color: black;">or b</span><strong><em><span style="color: black;">y</span> </em></strong><span style="color: blue; font-family: Consolas; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Consolas;"><a href="mailto:red.rain@sbcglobal.net"><span style="color: #45818e; font-size: small;">email</span></a></span></span><span style="color: black;"> . <em>Hope to see you again soon!</em> </span></div>
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Please, subscribe and spread the love.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14405923622590679339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337102728862301306.post-66079981339193351952012-09-17T12:55:00.001-04:002012-09-17T12:56:47.152-04:00PEACE IS BECOMING THE ZEITGEIST, OR SPIRIT OF OUR TIMES<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="http://g-ecx.images-amazon.com/images/G/01/ciu/3b/6c/0bd34284eb8d0ac1d18864.L._V138111988_SX200_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://g-ecx.images-amazon.com/images/G/01/ciu/3b/6c/0bd34284eb8d0ac1d18864.L._V138111988_SX200_.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i><b>Enjoy, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/J.-Frederick-Arment/e/B001K7W212/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1347820652&sr=1-1">J. Frederick Arment's</a> post, and consider his call to action. </b></i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 15.933333396911621px;">Imagine a world of cities dedicated to expanding their local peace economy and encouraging a global culture of peace. Safety, prosperity, and quality of life are universal values that bring peace to our lives.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 15.933333396911621px;">First and foremost in this global adventure is to reject violence and define ourselves as people of peace. How we can each, individually, do that is the central thesis of my new nonfiction work, "<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Elements-Peace-How-Nonviolence-Works/dp/0786468548/ref=la_B001K7W212_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1347820900&sr=1-1"><b>The Elements of Peace: How Nonviolence Works</b></a>." This guide to nonviolent conflict resolution presents thirty methods of maintaining or achieving peace, each with an in-depth case study. Methods covered, and their real-world applications, include the art of diplomacy (the 1995 Dayton Peace Accords), fair trade (the 1997 fair trade certification agreement), civil disobedience (the civil rights movement in the United States), humanitarianism (the rescue of the Hungarian Jews during the Holocaust), the rule of law (the International Tribunal for the Former Yugoslavia), and peace education (the Nobel Peace Prize), among many others. It concludes with a summary of the methods and the virtues of peace.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 15.933333396911621px;">In addition, readers of this blog might be interested in an organization dedicated to fostering peace in communities. International Cities of Peace™ is a formal Association of communities that by history, resolution, or proclamation are doing just this -- self-defining their community as an official City of Peace. This redefinition requires building a consensus network of business, government and community leaders who value safety, prosperity and quality of life.</span></div>
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<b style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 15.933333396911621px;"><span style="color: #4e9585;">WHAT DOES THIS MEAN TO YOU?</span></b></div>
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<span style="line-height: 15.933333396911621px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The International Cities of Peace initiative is a call to community action... a promise... a neighborhood revitalization effort... a business initiative... a government initiative... a creative calling... a sophisticated effort to build a sustainable community with the core value of the World Dream: a life of peace.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #4e9585; font-family: inherit; line-height: 15.933333396911621px;"><b>PEACE IS BECOMING THE ZEITGEIST, OR SPIRIT OF OUR TIMES</b>. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 15.933333396911621px;">Join the celebration! Get involved in the global transformation. Let the world know -- and more importantly, our children -- that our communities can become true Cities of Peace. Get involved today!</span><br />
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<b><span style="color: #4e9585;">J. FREDERICK ARMENT</span></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS7xarg0qBjwz0ByTD0n-8_IPWMBS8-gyeFrVQjzxdVx6SQohn1bUaI4F78cOeOS5YtlLcAXO4IZBKeiOVYsco6PXt5A5r9nDKd3Eu1HeoBQFWceLj0ZGVXPg6p2lNz3lCHGZ8qyuX9l4/s320/Cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 2em; margin-right: 1em; margin-top: 1.8em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS7xarg0qBjwz0ByTD0n-8_IPWMBS8-gyeFrVQjzxdVx6SQohn1bUaI4F78cOeOS5YtlLcAXO4IZBKeiOVYsco6PXt5A5r9nDKd3Eu1HeoBQFWceLj0ZGVXPg6p2lNz3lCHGZ8qyuX9l4/s200/Cover.jpg" width="130" /></a><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In his not-for-profit work, Arment works in Ohio and around the world with organizations that foster a positive approach to community revitalization. He is one of the founders and served as the first director of the </span><a href="http://www.daytonpeacemuseum.org/" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Dayton International Peace Museum</b>,</a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">a nonprofit organization dedicated to nonviolent alternatives to community and worldwide conflict. He serves as founding executive director of </span><b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.internationalcitiesofpeace.org/">International Cities of Peace</a></b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">, a member association of cities of peace dedicated to encouraging safety, prosperity, and quality of life as consensus values for families, neighborhoods, and nations.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Arment served as a first reader for the <b><a href="http://daytonliterarypeaceprize.org/">Dayton Literary Peace Prize</a></b> and on the steering committee for the <b><a href="http://salemavenuepeacecorridor.org/">Salem Avenue Peace Corridor</a></b> vitalization initiative. He is an adviser for the <b><a href="http://www.ufwpeace.org/">Unitarian Fellowship of World Peace</a></b> and their art gallery, the <b><a href="http://www.missingpeaceart.org/">Missing Peace Art Space</a></b>, which will be hosting the <b><a href="http://athensart-2010.ning.com/">AthensArt International Art Festival</a></b>, 2014. Recently, Arment was tapped to provide strategic positioning consultation for the Honolulu-based international <b><a href="http://www.nonkilling.org/">Center for Global Nonkilling</a></b>. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #660000; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><i>Fred is my special guest this week. Read more about his work, and where to here to find his books, <a href="http://scarlettrainsguest.blogspot.com/2012/09/please-welcome-my-special-guest-author.html">here</a>.</i></b></span></div>
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<em>Thank you so much for your comment at Scarlett Rains Sisters of the Hearts Blog. Every comment is read and appreciated. </em><strong style="color: #990000;"><em>Don't forget to subscribe either by <a href="http://scarlettrainssistersoftheheartsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" target="_blank"><span style="color: #45818e;">RSS</span></a> feed </em></strong><span style="color: #990000;"><span style="color: black;">or b</span><strong><em><span style="color: black;">y</span> </em></strong><span style="color: blue; font-family: Consolas; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Consolas;"><a href="mailto:red.rain@sbcglobal.net"><span style="color: #45818e; font-size: small;">email</span></a></span></span><span style="color: black;"> . <em>Hope to see you again soon!</em></span></div>
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Please, subscribe and spread the love.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14405923622590679339noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337102728862301306.post-9388985632731007172012-09-14T08:41:00.000-04:002012-09-14T08:41:09.235-04:00Closing Time, by Scarlett Rains<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> "I should have covered the roses, Anna!" Mary wiped the fog off the cold glass, surveying the damage. The shrub roses, lining the sidewalk along the front yard, glittered like a garnet-studded fence in the moonlight...beautiful, but dead. "Mother would be so disappointed. We used to sit in the swing for hours, drinking lemonade...admiring them, waiting for Daddy to come home." Mary gulped. "I should have protected them." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> "Don't beat yourself up about it," Anna tossed off the heavy blanket and sat up, swinging her legs over the edge of their bed. "They're just flowers."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> "They are more than that," Mary said, watching a deer timidly make its way through the Stevens' yard. Its hooves rapped on the road as it crossed to stand below...grazing on the icy roses. It lifted its head, ears twitching, seeming to feel her gaze. She pressed her hand against the glass, longing to touch it...to calm the frightened beat of its heart. "I won't hurt you," she whispered, frosting the glass with her breath. When she wiped it...the deer was gone. She frowned at her sister. "You just don't understand."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> Anna shrugged. "No, I don't. So what if they die? We'll plant more next Spring, white ones!" She screwed up her face. "Red roses remind me of funerals."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> "Mother wouldn't want that." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> "You would know better than I." Anna plucked at the sheet. "I never knew her. She kicked the bucket when I was a baby, remember?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> Her flip attitude did not fool Mary. "Stop blaming yourself. You didn't kill her, you know?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> "Didn't I?" Ann looked away. "Having me certainly didn't help." She waved her hand. "It doesn't matter anyhow, she's gone." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> "I don't want to think about that anymore." Mary leaned against the window gazing at the full moon- the smile on its silvery face stretched wide across the heavens. "The moon's huge tonight. Come, look at it."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> "I've seen the moon before, Mary."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> "Mother said full moons are magical." She smiled at Anna. "She made everything special. You would have loved her. She was funny, and beautiful." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> "If you say so...she didn't even know I existed." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> The hurt in her voice tugged at Mary's heart. "I wish you could forgive her, Anna. She couldn't see past the pain. Nothing else mattered." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> Anna's lip curled up. "Quit excusing her! You know she didn't care about me at all." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> "She did! She was a wonderful Mother!" Except near the end, of course, she was just a bag of bones then.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> "To you, maybe." Anna crossed her arms. "At least I have Daddy," she smirked at Mary. "You know I'm <i>his </i>favorite."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> "I hate it when you talk like this. It makes me feel helpless." Mary closed her eyes, took a deep breath, filling her lungs...pushing away at the memory of Mother's frail hand sticking out from the sheets, like a twig through a tent, poking at her...reminding her she'd<i> </i>promised to take care of them<i>. </i>She'd have said and done anything to calm those raggedy breaths, wracking a body so wasted and fragile it could never house the spirit of her mother. Eyes stinging, she glared at her sister. "I've done my best to take care of you. You aren't the only one who suffered. We all did!" She brushed at her eyes. "Daddy has never been the same!" <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> "I know. I'm sorry." She patted the quilt. "Come back to bed."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> The room felt suddenly too closed in, like a tomb packed tight with dead things with bony arms that squeezed out the air. She sucked in the stagnant air - swallowed and swallowed...great gulps of it, waving her hand in agitation as her lungs pressed against her chest. "I can't breathe." She heard the rising note of hysteria in her voice.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> "You are all right!" Anne pointed. "Open the window. You just need fresh air, that's all."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> The window stuck in its usual spot. Mary rested her head against the glass letting the cool night air calm her. The downstairs clock chimed. Shivers took hold. She hugged herself tightly against the chill, studying the moon. Flaws she had not noticed earlier stood out in stark relief: the scarred face looked shocked...as if its poked-out eyes had seen too much. The words of Harry Chapin's song popped in her head. She crooned it softly to her sister. "The cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon...little boy blue and the man in the moon..."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> "Stop it! I said I was sorry! You know I hate that song!"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> Headlights switched on in O'Malley's lot. Her pulse raced as she watched Mr. Stevens' red Pontiac exit the lot and pass by on the quiet street below. "Mr. Stevens is heading home to his wife." Sounds of laughter floated down the street as the last of the stragglers stepped out the front door of the Pub. One of them walked toward their house, laughing when he tripped on the sidewalk. She could almost see his face in the moonlight. He stumbled against Mother's lovely gate, staggered, leaving a crooked path in her pansies as he fell...breaking off a section of the rose brush. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> "Fuck!" He pulled himself up, panting. "Stupid fucking roses!" He kicked at them, slipped...fell again and lay there, wind-less, clasping his stomach. He rolled to his side and came quickly to his knees, body lurching back and forth as he puked. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> Mary's skin crawled. "Disgusting pig!"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> The drunk wiped his mouth on his arm, grabbed hold of the mailbox Mother had decorated with ivy, and pulled himself up. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> She shrank back when he looked up at her window. "He saw me, Anna!" The girls stared at one another, whimpering in the dark, cringing when the front door squeaked on its hinges. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> "He's coming!" Mary pressed her back in the corner, slid down to the floor. "If we're quiet he won't find us," Anna whispered, wrapping the blanket more tightly about her shoulders. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> He banged against the furniture in the family room...his heavy step clumsy as he climbed the stairs...wheezing as he walked past their room...toward Mother's. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> Mary started to cry. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> The man turned - his footsteps louder and louder as he came to their door.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> "Look what you've done!" Anna hissed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> "I'm sorry!" Mary reached for her sister. "Don't leave me!"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> Anna hid beneath the covers seconds before the door swung open. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> The rancid smell of vomit, alcohol and sweat filled the room when he stepped in. A beam of moonlight through the window touched softly on his face then fell on the form of her sister...huddled beneath the covers. She saw him smile. Nausea knifed Mary's stomach. He's seen her! Then, relief made her giddy. He's seen <i>her</i>...not me! She covered her face, trying to be invisible...but, the promise she'd made Mother weighed heavily upon her. She could not hide. There was no escaping. She had to warn Anna that sound...sight...smell...touch, all had to go away to the place of forgotten things. "Run, Anna!" she screamed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> He jumped! "You scared the shit out of me, Maryann! What are you doing over there?" He undid his belt. "Were you dreaming again?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> She covered her ears, blocking the sound of the zipper ripping against the track. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> "Don't be mad. I'll fix the mailbox in the morning...promise. Come to bed."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> Mary shivered. It was so cold outside. Mother was bundling her up, zipping her warm winter coat right up to her neck to keep out the chill. "Time for our walk, Maryann," Mother said, smiling her special smile. "We'll walk to the bakery and get some cocoa."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> She pointed toward the upstairs room. "But, what about Anna?" <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> "She can't come with us." Mother grabbed her hand and pulled her out the door. "We must hurry! It is almost closing time."</span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #783f04; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;">© Scarlett Rains</span> </div>
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<em>Thank you so much for your comment at Scarlett Rains Sisters of the Hearts Blog. Every comment is read and appreciated.</em><strong style="color: #990000;"><em>Don't forget to subscribe either by <a href="http://scarlettrainssistersoftheheartsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" target="_blank"><span style="color: #45818e;">RSS</span></a> feed </em></strong><span style="color: #990000;"><span style="color: black;">or b</span><strong><em><span style="color: black;">y</span> </em></strong><span style="color: blue; font-family: Consolas; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Consolas;"><a href="mailto:red.rain@sbcglobal.net"><span style="color: #45818e; font-size: small;">email</span></a></span></span><span style="color: black;"> . <em>Hope to see you again soon!</em></span></div>
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Please, subscribe and spread the love.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14405923622590679339noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337102728862301306.post-21837532911360578422012-08-15T11:40:00.001-04:002012-08-15T11:40:26.942-04:00Peace begins with you...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fiobooktours.blogspot.com%2F2012%2F08%2Fthe-peace-tour-is-tomorrow-be-sure-to.htm&h=FAQEUAzzC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZKMDTGO2mFPX4H6biaS4klHBfN8o51GJUna2TgQxv4OXISNGa3XfVBASxh4_NAJ8o3yEztGbag2v-6qLtwdVzbQvgGZnu3HIPWuMtd_Nuhu44KrrzMt54MGVLLmC4nfr78ytMmK3m55k/s400/peaceredocoolframed.jpg" width="395" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Peace begins with you...</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Peace is personal.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Take it in, give it thought.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Peace begins with you, in you. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">It lives or dies in </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">the language you use, </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">the reactions you have to insult, </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">and the programs you sponsor. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Your actions create a</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">living legacy for humankind. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">You cannot separate yourself </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">from the quest for peace. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">You are responsible. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #783f04; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;">© Scarlett Rains</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>I wrote this post in support of my friend, and guest host this week, <a href="http://scarlettrainsguest.blogspot.com/2012/08/multicultural-influences-do-they-tear.html"><b>Catalina Egan</b></a>. Catalina's <b><a href="http://ameliacurzonblogger.wordpress.com/2012/08/09/peace-blitz-august-15th-2012-visit-all-stops/">'Peace Blitz'</a> </b>blog tour focuses on peace, and on an event, that possibly impacted world peace, that she explores in her book, <b><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Bridge-Deaths-M-C-EGAN/dp/1463410417/ref=sr_1_6?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1317579854&sr=1-6">The Bridge of Deaths.</a></b> Please, take the tour today, read more about her book, and the thought-provoking posts of some of the tour participants. I pray you will take in the message that peace begins with you.</i></span></div>
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<b style="text-align: left;"><em>Thank you so much for your comment at Scarlett Rains Sisters of the Hearts Blog. Every comment is read and appreciated. </em><span style="color: #990000;"><em>Don't forget to subscribe either by <a href="http://scarlettrainssistersoftheheartsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" target="_blank"><span style="color: #45818e;">RSS</span></a> feed </em></span><span style="color: #990000;"><span style="color: black;">or b</span><em><span style="color: black;">y</span> </em><span style="color: blue; font-family: Consolas; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Consolas;"><a href="mailto:red.rain@sbcglobal.net"><span style="color: #45818e; font-size: small;">email</span></a></span></span><span style="color: black;"> . <em>Hope to see you again soon!</em></span></b></div>
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Please, subscribe and spread the love.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14405923622590679339noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337102728862301306.post-66001598114195949882012-08-07T21:25:00.001-04:002012-09-06T08:13:38.858-04:00'The Code'. A short story by Scarlett Rains.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="line-height: 18px;"> "Finish up, Jane." It was ten till five. Jane was my last patient of the day. Our half-hour session had already stretched to fifty minutes, mostly consisting of me, wheedling, and her, whining. Getting her to workout was like pulling teeth. The only exercise she liked was jawing.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> I stifled a yawn, nostrils flaring, breathing in the smell of brewing coffee: nectar of the gods. Like Pavlov's dog, my mouth watered. I stood, stretched out a kink in my back and stepped out in the hall. The Nurse's station was abandoned. It was so quiet I could hear the gurgling sound as the last drop of coffee dripped down in the pot. The nurses were all in the break-room...with their coffee. It was shift-change. Nurses coming on were taking report of patient's status from the nurses getting ready to go home. I longed to walk down and join them for a nice cup of java; wanting to be just about anywhere else then stuck here with Jane. I sighed, glancing back at her.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> Jane Mathews, my blue-haired, pink-curlured, hip-replacement-patient-from-Hell, sat, pouting in her wheelchair, dilly-dallying.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> "This one is stupid." Jane pointed a pudgy finger at the instruction sheet I'd given her.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> "Gotta do it, Jane, Doctor's orders." I crossed my arms, waiting. Jane was not one to pass on the opportunity to argue…she thrived on it. If a study was ever conducted on how to burn calories flapping your gums…I’d sign her up.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> Her chin jutted forward. “He’s an idiot.” She tossed the instructions aside, a gleam in her eye, gauging my reaction.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> Dr. Larkin <i>was</i> an idiot for letting her bully him into staying on the unit. No one, including him, wanted to put up with her, but census was low. We needed patients on the unit or staff would be dismissed. Keeping her was the lesser of two evils. Her lack of appreciation was irritating.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> “That <i>idiot</i> extended your length of stay. Remember?” I pasted a smile on my face. “You were supposed to go home last Wednesday.”</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> “Don’t act like he walks on water, Linda,” she snorted. “He’d have booted me out in a heartbeat if I hadn’t told my insurance company on him.“</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> That ticked me off. She was milking the system and we both knew it. </span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> “Most hip replacement patients are home in four days, Jane. You’ve been here a week.” Every second of which was indelibly etched on my consciousness. Every bitchy comment she made, all the times I had to argue to get her to comply with any basic instruction…spoke of her manipulative nature. I couldn’t wait to be rid of her.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> “So, what? That paper I signed when I came here said I wouldn’t leave until I’m ready.” She snatched her exercise sheet up, mouth open, squinting over her bifocals to read it. “And I’m not ready!” </span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> “Just finish your exercises, all right?” Lord, the woman was going to drive me crazy.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> Jane snatched a piece of yellow thera-band off the mat, looped it under her foot and started circling her ankles.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> I turned at the sound of the elevator opening, sighing when Jane’s friend, Millie, stepped out. Crap! Now, I'll never get Jane out of the gym. </span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> "Hi, Linda," Millie said, smiling her sweet smile, walking slowly towards me, listing side to side like a ship rocking on waves. A purse the size of a carry-on dangled from her shoulder, bouncing against her hip. It looked heavy. Her knees rubbed together, making a whooshing sound, with each little step.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> "Hello, Millie." I cringed at the grinding sound of crepitus in her joints as she passed. “You’ve got to get those knees done before they give out, girl. You should talk to Dr. Larkin.”</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> “I know, dear.” Millie waddled through the gym door, breathing heavily.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> “Leave her alone, Linda.” Jane gave me a knowing look. “He’s not cutting up my friend just to get patients in this place.”</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> Lord, help me. I counted to ten… lips stretched over my teeth in a smiling grimace. I wonder if my hands can stretch around Jane’s flabby neck. Dismissing the thought, I walked to the cabinet, got the spray sanitizer and a couple of towels off the linen cart…anything to keep my hands busy.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> Jane forgot all about me…and her exercises. The floodgates opened. She spewed all the latest gossip, eyes gleaming, waddle wiggling in time with her acid tongue. Millie was getting the dirt...all the dirt...and nothing but the dirt, whether she wanted it or not.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> I sprayed the empty mats, wiped them off, than polished the fingerprints and grime from the parallel bars. Environmental Services has cut back so much that the gym hasn’t had a good cleaning for a couple of weeks. Back in PT school they never told me I’d be doing an aide’s work as well as my own, I thought, swiping up a dust bunny that floated out from under the mat. </span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> Jane’s voice buzzed in the background like a gnat at my ear. From the corner of my eye, I saw her toss a two-pound weight on the mat I’d just cleaned. I picked it up, cleaned it and stuck it in the weight-rack. Clearing my throat, I looked at my watch, and pointed at her exercise program. “Finish up, Jane. It’s late.”</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> "I have a visitor! I'm allowed to talk to my visitor if I want to." Jane laboriously leaned her massive bulk left, staring hard at me as she clenched, then released, her butt: making her head bob up and down with each repetition of, what she called, her 'butt crunches'.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> It was amazing she could lift her butt at all, considering she deserved a special dictionary entry under corpulent …a subheading, entitled ‘lard-ass’.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> "Are you happy now? I'm going to tell Dr. Larkin about you. Don't think I'm not," Jane said.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> How does someone become so hateful? Every ounce of the Irish in me wanted to vent. I felt my left eyebrow quirk and took a deep, calming, breath. Remember...first, do no harm: that was the oath I took when I became a physical therapist. Her threats didn't worry me. She could complain to Dr. Larkin all she wanted. Fat lot of good it would do her. He knew what she was like. (He called her the Grey Gorgon in private.) She bullied everyone and couldn't find a nice thing to say to, or about, anyone.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> "Jane! That's uncalled for." Millie's tone was uncharacteristically sharp. The long walk from the parking garage had taken its toll on her. She stood, leaning against the wall, breathing heavily.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> "Don't mind her spite, Linda," Millie said, lips pinched and drawn as she sucked air in and out in a wheezing whistle.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> "Are you all right, Millie?" I eyed the oxygen valve on the wall, relieved to see a bag of tubing hanging there, ready, in case of emergency. I opened the cabinet, reassuring myself that the pulse-ox was there. Respiratory Therapy was so short-staffed that it paid to double-check.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> "I'm fine." Millie shifted her weight. "Just a little tired, that's all."</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> No wonder. Jane could suck the life out of a twenty year old and Millie hadn't seen twenty in years. I brought her a chair. "Why don't you sit down and put your feet up until Jane finishes. She won't be long." I looked pointedly at Jane.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> "What are you, the exercise Nazi?" The stodgy framework of Jane’s jaw stood out stubbornly beneath her jowls.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> Please, Lord, give me patience. He did. I took the high road and ignored her.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> "Mind your tongue, Jane." Millie sighed heavily as she sat down. “Thank you, Linda. I haven't been myself at all today." She patted her chest. "I'm plumb out of steam." Perspiration dotted her upper lip.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> "It's hot outside. Would you like a soda, Millie? Or, some ice water?" I had a soft spot for her. Why she put up with Jane was beyond me.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> "No, thank you." Millie crossed her swollen ankles and clasped her hands, resting them on her ample stomach. "I'm better now. Don't fuss about me."</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> Jane looked askance at Millie over the top of the sheet of exercises she was pretending to perform. "You wouldn't be so winded if you'd lose ten ...or fifty pounds."</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> "Talk about the pot calling the kettle black!" Millie crossed her arms over her potbelly.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> "Oh, be quiet!" Jane frowned at her than turned her venom on me. "What about my wheelchair cushion? I told you this one isn't comfortable." She leaned, tugging hard on a piece of the leather cushion squished flat beneath her. She wrinkled her nose, holding up a piece of the leather she'd just torn off. "Look at that. It's falling apart. This piece of crap better not show up on my bill!" She pushed her bifocals back, the better to glare at me. </span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> I refrained from rolling my eyes. "The cushion will be in tomorrow, Jane." Like I told you ten times already, I thought.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> I sat down at my desk, tuned her out, and worked on finishing my charting. I'd kill for a cup of coffee about now.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> Jane whispered something behind me, hushing abruptly when one of the Candy-Stripers stopped in to deliver her mail. </span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> "Hello, dear," Jane smiled at the girl as she opened her letter, "my, don't you look pretty today." As soon as the she was out of ear-shot, she leaned in to Millie. "I bet she's knocked up. Did you see that panty line? Thong!" She clenched her butt. "That's a slut-slingshot for sure!"</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> Millie darted a look at me, blushing to the roots of her white hair.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> Poor, Millie. Jane is an albatross hanging around her neck; making her guilty by association. I smiled, absolving her of complicity, and checked the clock for the hundredth time. <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span> </span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> "You finished your leg raises, Jane," I said, my lips stretched so tight it hurt me to smile. "Fifteen knee extensions and you're good to go." </span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> "Don't hurry me!" Jane frowned, looking like she was preparing to say more. </span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> She is working my last nerve. It will be worth the endless sessions I'll have to undergo with HR, just to tell her what I think. </span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> I crossed my arms, preparing to let her have it.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> Millie must have sensed I'd had enough. "Hurry up, Jane," she said, smiling at me, her face flushed. "We have to get to your room in time to turn in your dinner order." She rocked back and forth a few times, struggling to stand up, heaved herself out of the chair than moved to sit on the mat. "Here," she took the exercise sheet from Jane," you've done all but this one." She kicked her leg out to demonstrate.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> "Not worth the bother." Jane kicked her dimply leg out, paused and lowered it down, clucking like an old hen. "The kitchen help should be fired...the food's not fit for a dog."</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> Yet, you always order two trays, I thought, trying to write something resembling a professional note to justify her stay on the unit. The truth —doesn't need rehab, needs a kick in the butt— would not get it.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> "You should see my bathroom, Millie. It's a mess! “Jane stopped suddenly, right leg extended straight out in front of her. "Are there coloreds on this floor?"</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> "What?" Millie and I spoke in unison. </span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> I put down my pen, unable to believe what I'd just heard.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> Jane pointed at Nurse Edward's back when she passed by. "I hope she's not my nurse tonight!" She cupped her hand over her mouth and whispered, "She's a darkie."</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> Millie’s face was crimson.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> I stared at Jane a moment, not trusting myself to speak.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> “What?" Jane shrugged, clueless. In her world everyone was a racist.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> "You would be lucky to have her," I said, my words clipped and terse.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> Jane snorted, "She's not touching me!"</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> I felt the heat as my face flushed. "That's enough for today." I snapped the chart shut.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> "I'm not finished," Jane said, waving her exercise sheet at me.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> "We'll start out tomorrow where you left off. It's time to go." I opened the storage closet and started gathering up the walkers, canes and loose equipment: anything to keep my hands away from Jane.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> "Fine!" Jane yanked the brakes off her wheel chair and maneuvered away from the mat. "Come on, Millie." </span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> I bent down to get a tissue off the closet floor.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> "Millie! Oh, my God! Linda, help her!"</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> "What is it?" I tripped over a crutch, hurrying to get out of the closet.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> Jane was blocking my way, pointing at the mat. “Help her!”</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> I could just see Millie. She had collapsed back on the mat. “Get out of the way, Jane.” I pushed her wheelchair far enough away to squeeze by and ran to Millie. Her head was to the side, eyes open, drool oozing from the side of her mouth.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> I screamed for help and hit the code alarm button on the gym wall to alert the nurses to come STAT as I went into that, auto-pilot, state all clinicians enter when confronted with a possible 'code'. </span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> I checked Millie's pulse, respiration: none. </span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;">"Go to the nurse's station and get help, Jane!" I yelled: palms sweating as I checked Millie's airway: clear. </span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> Fighting panic, I straddled her stomach and initiated CPR, praying to God she'd live. </span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> "And one, and two and three and four,” I counted my compressions, feeling her sternum press back against each deep thrust. Where are the nurses? The Code Team should be here by now. I tilted Millie’s head, pressed my lips against hers and gave two slow steady breaths, watching her chest wall rise with each. </span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> Please, God...please, God. Where are the nurses? My heart pounded in my throat. </span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> "You're losing her!" Jane rammed her wheelchair into my foot, trying to get close to Millie.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> She threatened the control I desperately needed...clung to... I couldn't take it. </span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> "Get your ass to the nurse's station, now!" I screamed at her, tears rolling down my cheeks as I resumed compressions. </span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> Frightened into action, Jane wheeled herself out in the hall and screamed for help. </span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> Millie was cold, ashen…her gaze: fixed. I checked again for a pulse and couldn't find one anywhere. </span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> "Oh, my God...Oh, my God," I sobbed, continuing compressions I knew were probably worthless. </span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> Finally, I heard the pounding of feet against the tile, heard shouts as the Code Team arrived with the crash cart. Tears blinded me. I couldn't see who touched my shoulder and moved me aside.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> "Get her out of here!" A doctor pointed at Jane. </span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> A nurse wheeled Jane away and shut the door, closing us in. I stood staring, watching as they tried the defibrillator. I knew it was too late. </span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> "Call it," one of the Docs said, checking his watch. "She's gone."</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> She's gone. Gone. Just like that. Gone. I felt so strange standing there, my arms wrapped tight about myself, watching them cover her with a sheet, gather their equipment...putting each item back on the cart...all tidy now.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> "This is just terrible." Nurse Edwards’ voice sounded far away as she rubbed my back. "Are you all right, Linda?"</span><br />
<span again.="again." all="all" be="be" doubt="doubt" ever="ever" eyes.="eyes." i="i" ll="ll" mute="mute" my="my" nbsp="nbsp" nodding="nodding" right="right" span="span" stood="stood" style="line-height: 18px;" there="there" wiping="wiping"> <span style="line-height: 18px;"> "You did all you could do," the Doc glanced at my badge," Miss Smith." He patted my arm. "She was a heart attack waiting to happen."</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> No, she was Millie, and now, she's dead. Soon they'd take her down to that cold basement room where she'd lay, bundled like a cocoon, waiting to be taken to the morgue. </span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> Bile churned in my stomach. I felt like vomiting. </span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> Nurse Edwards took my hand.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> "Come with me," she said. She put her arm around me and walked me to the nurse's station. "Sit down, Linda, you've had a shock." She pulled up a chair and sat down beside me, waving at an aide in the hallway. "Brenda, get her a glass of water...and get a blanket from the warmer." I felt her hand stroking my back. "It will be all right, Linda."</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> After I calmed down a bit, she pulled out the Procedure's binder and handed me the Incident Report form, taking one for her-self. "Better get it over with while it's fresh in our minds," she said, sighing heavily.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> I stared at the form awhile, the scene replaying itself, over and over, in my head. The sick nervous feeling in my stomach got worse. I needed to pinch myself and wake up. I put my cup down, my hands shaking so much I almost knocked it over.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> "Why didn't you come quicker?" I asked, not realizing I'd spoken aloud. "The defibrillator might have saved her." </span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> Nancy Edwards looked up. "What?" She tapped the pen on the paper. "I wasn't going to say anything about that...but, you should have sounded the alarm. If Jane hadn't screamed..."</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> "I did hit the alarm! Ask Jane. She saw me." My head pounded. "Didn't you hear it?"</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> "Well, it didn't go off." </span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> We looked at each other. Several repair requests for that alarm had been submitted over the last two months but Administration put it off. They were nickel- and-diming us to death. Every available dollar was allocated to construction of the new hospital; meanwhile Clinton Memorial was left to die a slow death. We did our best with barebones staff, short on supplies.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> "Maintenance was supposed to fix it." Nancy clicked her pen as the ramifications of a faulty alarm sank in. Click...click...click. "This one's going to have to be flagged for review now. Great," she said, sighing as she started filling in the blanks that must be made to say that nothing untoward had occurred...that this was a 'good' code.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> I was so angry I couldn't sit still. </span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> "I can't do this right now." I stood up and walked out, blood pulsing through my veins so hard I could feel the ridges of the vessels at my temples when I rubbed them. I just wanted to go home and cry...take a bath and try to scrub myself clean. </span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> She shouldn't have died. She shouldn't have died. </span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> I was down the hall, leaning my head against the wall, waiting, listening for the sound of the elevator in the shaft, when I thought of Jane. Crap! I couldn't, in good conscience, leave without checking on her. I turned and walked back down the corridor, feeling like I was in Hell. </span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> I knocked on the door of room 3204. I could hear Jane, crying inside: loud, gulping sobs. I stepped in to the darkened room. "Jane, are you all right?"</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> She was lying with her back to the door, looking out the window. I made myself walk over to the bed "Can I call someone for you?" </span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> "There's no one to call." She put her arm over her face, her body quivering with the effort to control her tears. </span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> "There must be someone." I noticed the deck of cards on her bedside table. She and Millie were big Rummy fans.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> She lifted her arm, looking around for something to wipe her face. It was a swollen mess.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> "Here," I handed her the tissue box, "you shouldn't be alone. Tell me who I can call."</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> She shook her head and blew her nose. "She was my only friend."</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> "I'm so sorry, Jane." I sat down in the chair by her bed, unsure what else to say. </span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> She seemed glad of my company. </span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> "I couldn't stand Millie at first, you know. She got on my nerves," Jane said, blowing again, hard, her breath coming out in quivers. "She irritated the hell out of me, sucking up to the Pastor all the time. I’d never seen such a do-gooder in all my life." She stared out the window. “But, it wasn’t an act.” She gulped, struggling to speak. “She really loved me.” </span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> “She is…was a sweet woman,” I said. </span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> "She was a Saint. You might not believe it, but I can be hard to get along with." Her lop-sided grin made me cry. “Millie…and, John, were the only ones who could see through me,” she gulped. “Now, they’re both gone.” Jane told me how Millie stood by her when her husband, John, died of brain cancer. “He lingered almost two years…it was terrible. I couldn’t have made it without Millie. “</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> We sat there, talking quietly until the dinner trays arrived. I stood up, surprised at the time. "I've got to get home. Is there anything I can get you before I go?"</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> "Can you hand me my Bible?" </span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> That struck me as odd. She certainly didn't seem the religious sort. I picked up her old rag-tag King James Bible. It felt solid and comforting in my hand. I gave it to her and turned to leave.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> "Will you be in tomorrow?" Her words came out in a rush. She avoided my gaze when I turned.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> "Yes." It dawned on me why she was so bitter. She was lonely. Now, she had no one. "I'll check on you first thing in the morning, OK?"</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> “I don’t mind if you do…or don’t,” Jane sniffed, trying hard to sound like her old, testy, self.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> “Well. All right, then,” I said, “I’ll see you in the morning.” </span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> “Don’t come too early. Not before Dr. Phil. You know I don’t want to miss my show.”</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> I raised my brows.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> “Fine, come when you want,” Jane said, a shaky smile quirking the right side of her mouth.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> Driving home from the hospital, I couldn't stop thinking of Millie's sightless eyes, Jane's grief ...and that broken alarm button. I told myself it was an unfortunate reality. Millie was a heart attack waiting to happen that 'happened' on my watch. That was all. </span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> I'll fill out the report in the morning. </span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> But, that plan just didn’t sit right. I sat in my driveway for the longest time, thinking. I saw Jane's face when I told her I'd check on her... felt the weight of her Bible in my hand. </span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> I know what I have to do. </span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> I cannot let my report be filed away where no one will ever see it. Millie...and Jane deserve better. I will fill out the report, copy it ...and those denied maintenance requests, and send the lot of it to the agencies responsible for monitoring patient safety violations. </span><br />
<span style="line-height: 18px;"> Clinton Memorial can go straight to Hell, I thought, remembering the sweetness of Millie’s smile. There are worse things than being unemployed.</span></span><br />
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<em> Thank you so much for your comment at Scarlett Rains Sisters of the Hearts Blog. Every comment is read and appreciated. </em><strong style="color: #990000;"><em>Don't forget to subscribe either by <a href="http://scarlettrainssistersoftheheartsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" target="_blank"><span style="color: #45818e;">RSS</span></a> feed </em></strong><span style="color: #990000;"><span style="color: black;">or b</span><strong><em><span style="color: black;">y</span> </em></strong><span style="color: blue; font-family: Consolas; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Consolas;"><a href="mailto:red.rain@sbcglobal.net"><span style="color: #45818e; font-size: small;">email</span></a></span></span><span style="color: black;"> . <em>Hope to see you again soon!</em></span></div>
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<div class="blogger-post-footer">http://scarlettrainssistersoftheheartsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default
Please, subscribe and spread the love.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14405923622590679339noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337102728862301306.post-26659067662437795032012-07-29T16:53:00.002-04:002012-07-29T16:53:52.810-04:00Meet Jill Elizabeth Arent Franclemont, a kindred spirit, author and poet<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXPZS9POGds-h6k-X4qnRVMLYs8MDG7QAoucaAk7sl6v9w0sW4VTw19OppMjHk_JHpNfjHCeWRRSxSlBQC6d3IXV0TQ5-qEpexMnjMLG2giFfDghGjmisnt9AYqwvhpwqz2ctwts0dfy8/s1600/JillElizforSistersBlogpost.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXPZS9POGds-h6k-X4qnRVMLYs8MDG7QAoucaAk7sl6v9w0sW4VTw19OppMjHk_JHpNfjHCeWRRSxSlBQC6d3IXV0TQ5-qEpexMnjMLG2giFfDghGjmisnt9AYqwvhpwqz2ctwts0dfy8/s200/JillElizforSistersBlogpost.jpg" width="135" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Sometimes we meet kindred spirits who reach us on an intuitive basis, for many reasons. Jill Elizabeth has been my <a href="http://scarlettrainspoeticmusings.blogspot.com/2012/07/my-guest-poet-this-week-is.html"><b>Guest Poet</b> </a>all of the past week and I know, after reading her work, that we are sisters of the heart. Please, welcome my friend, </i><span style="background-color: white;"><i><a href="http://www.jill-elizabeth.com/"><b>Jill Elizabeth Arent Franclemont</b></a>,</i></span><i style="background-color: white;"> and offer her your support. Blessings to all...Scarlett.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">About Me (Jill): The Very Short Version<o:p></o:p></span></h1>
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Mine was an average, small-town childhood. I read everything in sight, went to school, played with friends. I imagined a lot of things and places, and decided I wanted to see them all – which meant leaving that average small town as soon as possible. I went to D.C., studied philosophy, put myself through school. I worked for five years, realized I wanted more and decided on law. Enter Chicago. Despite a hairy beginning (pick-pocketed my first day!), I survived law school and two bar exams, and headed to a law firm in Philadelphia. The billable hour and I did not get along. Within a year I was job hunting. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Enter the magical world of pharmaceuticals (employment, not consumption). It seemed like a dream – prestigious title, high pay, regular hours, travel, Corporate perks. At first it was. Then my boss (an amazing woman) retired. Then her boss (another amazing woman) retired. Then I learned how much those two women had shaped my experience – and how much I didn’t fit the mold of a Corporate American. Bored and frustrated, I took a sabbatical and started thinking. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I couldn’t stay. I didn’t enjoy anything about it anymore. The company was being acquired – a golden opportunity, since I wanted out. Back-of-the-envelope math told me I could decide what I wanted to do next based on what I wanted, not money. I wanted something utterly unlike the regimented bureaucracy of Big Pharma. I loved to read, people told me I turned a clever phrase. Why not write? A zillion months later, the company was sold and I was free. And a mess. I moved back to my hometown for a comfortable environment. It was a little too comfortable. But it helped bring back my long-lost sanity and let me be a real daughter, aunt and friend for the first time in twenty years. It was amazing, but a year passed without a single written word.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Eek.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I couldn’t believe how time flew – or how easily entropy set in. I was tired of people politely asking how the book was going, and politely responding that it wasn’t. I was also tired of being unproductive. I needed a kick in the ass, and got one when I fell in love with an amazing man – an amazing, diligent, focused man. Score! Suddenly things looked different – in the best possible way. When I said I felt like writing, he said that was good because he was setting me up a blog. When I whined I didn’t feel like writing, he reminded me this was my dream and if I started, I’d be surprised how easily I’d keep going. He was right.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Here we are a year later. Amazing Man and I are married. I have two step-kids, a blog, a collection of stories and novel in the works, and more ideas than ever. Things are clicking along – some days more slowly than I’d like, but still: progress. I don’t know where exactly this will all go, but it sure is one hell of a ride…</div>
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<em>Please, comment on Jill's post below. Every comment is read and appreciated. </em><strong style="background-color: white; color: #990000;"><em>Don't forget to subscribe either by <a href="http://scarlettrainssistersoftheheartsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" target="_blank"><span style="color: #45818e;">RSS</span></a> feed </em></strong><span style="background-color: white; color: #990000;"><span style="color: black;">or b</span><strong><em><span style="color: black;">y</span> </em></strong><span style="color: blue; font-family: Consolas; font-size: 10pt;"><a href="mailto:red.rain@sbcglobal.net"><span style="color: #45818e; font-size: small;">email</span></a></span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: black;"> . <em>Hope to see you again soon!</em></span></div>
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</div><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://scarlettrainssistersoftheheartsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default
Please, subscribe and spread the love.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14405923622590679339noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337102728862301306.post-40259542280887174592012-07-26T02:00:00.001-04:002012-07-29T17:00:32.104-04:00WHY SHOULD I COMMENT ON A BLOG…AND HOW THE HECK DO I DO IT?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">These may seem like a ridiculous post, but, readers have let me know that they are confused by how to ‘comment’ on blogs. Not so surprising that a novice would be intimidated, considering how many variations on the ‘commenting’ theme exist. If you are having trouble, I hope this tutorial will help you develop into a person who actively comments.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #4e9585; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 14.5pt;"><b>Why should I bother to comment on a blog?</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">It is considered a courtesy to comment on blogs that you read, and find interesting. Doing so functions in much the same fashion as commenting on <a href="https://www.facebook.com/ScarletRains.Author"><b><span style="color: #0c343d;">Facebook</span></b></a>. It is the foundation of a dialogue and a means of interacting with the blogger to form friendships. Most blog owners are conscientious about replying to comments posted on their blogs and are diligent about reciprocating and leaving comments on their visitor’s blog. This is how the blogging community flourishes. Bloggers not only value your opinion, and friendship, but the number of comments (and followers) a blog has is also a measure of the blogger’s success. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #4e9585; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 14.5pt;"><b>All right. You sold me. So, how the heck do I comment on a blog?</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">That’s the tricky part. It depends on the type of blog:<span style="color: #0c343d;"><b> <a href="http://www.blogger.com/start"><span style="color: #0c343d;">Blogger</span></a>, </b></span></span><a href="http://wordpress.org/"><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>WordPress</b></span></a> <b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">or others.</span></b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> </span> Don’t run! I’ll make this painless and give you plenty of clear examples. Put down that Zanex!!!</span></div>
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<b style="background-color: white; color: #4e9585; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS',sans-serif; font-size: 14.5pt; line-height: 19.2pt;">Posting a comment:</b><span style="background-color: white; color: #4e9585; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 14.5pt; line-height: 19.2pt;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 19.2pt;">The following is a common means of posting a comment on </span><b style="background-color: white; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 19.2pt;">Blogger</b><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 19.2pt;">:</span></span></div>
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<li style="text-align: justify;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 19.2pt; text-indent: -0.25in;">3.<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 19.2pt; text-indent: -0.25in;">And now for WordPress (WP).</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 19.2pt; text-indent: -0.25in;"> With WP, you may find the comment box anywhere. The first example is from my friend, <u><a href="http://nancyjillthames.wordpress.com/2012/04/09/queen-of-afternoon-tea-celebrity-author-interview-3/"><span style="color: #0c343d;"><b>Nancy Jill Thames’s</b></span></a></u> blog. Nancy’s comment box link is at the top.</span></li>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 19.2pt;">Another WP example is found on my friend, </span><u><span style="font-size: 10.5pt;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b><a href="http://aecurzon.wordpress.com/2012/05/27/my-time/"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #0c343d;">Amelia Curzon’s</span></span></a></b></span></span></u><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 19.2pt;"><u><b> </b></u>lovely blog. Amelia has the number of comments as a link at the top of the post. If you click it, the second box opens up. </span><b style="background-color: white; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 19.2pt;">OR!</b><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 19.2pt;"> Just ignore that number and scroll down to the bottom of the post and…</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">4.<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">the typical WordPress comment box awaits that will require entering your email address, username and website in a secure log in.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 19.2pt;">As you can see there are</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 19.2pt;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 19.2pt;">variations on the theme but, now that you have the idea, it is not so<b> </b>difficult to find the </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 19.2pt;">comment links.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #4e9585; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 14.5pt;"><b>One more thing: </b></span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">Don’t freak out if your comment doesn’t show up right away, or a message pops up that says something like, “Your comment will be available after moderation”. The blogger is just screening comments for spam and that sort of nonsense. No harm, no foul. You can test your readiness to conquer your commenting fear by leaving me a lovely comment below. </span></div>
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<b><span style="background-color: white; color: #0c343d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">About <a href="http://scarlettrainssistersoftheheartsblog.blogspot.com/">Scarlett Rains</a>: </span></b></h4>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivNBKOvOHTfeDCdVZ-iI50xlkN6DSFKpzM35Hf44ibY0Tj9aSuOJs4cB2ygrCIGrq63iRvZqppT38QeNmxYRj9xacTCQjGyRPpRqyQ1rjnMtMd6KPrP4pg2iY8CEggBvPpb-SDug7XDkCg/s1600/Scarlett+Rains+Publicity+Photo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivNBKOvOHTfeDCdVZ-iI50xlkN6DSFKpzM35Hf44ibY0Tj9aSuOJs4cB2ygrCIGrq63iRvZqppT38QeNmxYRj9xacTCQjGyRPpRqyQ1rjnMtMd6KPrP4pg2iY8CEggBvPpb-SDug7XDkCg/s1600/Scarlett+Rains+Publicity+Photo.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Scarlett is a mom, wife, granny, loyal friend, blog-a-holic and, </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">oh yes, author. </span><b style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;"><a href="http://www.facebook.com/pages/Scarlett-Rains/106562882774614?sk=wall">Scarlett</a></b><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> loves to laugh and believes most people would benefit from a few, soul-cleansing, belly laughs.</span></div>
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<i>Thank you so much for your comment at Scarlett Rains Sisters of the Hearts Blog. Every comment is read and appreciated. </i><b style="background-color: white; color: #990000; text-align: left;"><i>Don't forget to subscribe either by <a href="http://scarlettrainssistersoftheheartsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" target="_blank"><span style="color: #45818e;">RSS</span></a> feed </i></b><span style="background-color: white; color: #990000;"><span style="color: black;">or b</span><b><i><span style="color: black;">y</span> </i></b><span style="color: blue; font-family: Consolas; font-size: 10pt;"><a href="mailto:red.rain@sbcglobal.net"><span style="color: #45818e; font-size: small;"><b>email</b></span></a></span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: black;"> . <i>Hope to see you again soon!</i></span></div>
</div><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://scarlettrainssistersoftheheartsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default
Please, subscribe and spread the love.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14405923622590679339noreply@blogger.com30tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337102728862301306.post-45463003675270534442012-07-22T13:32:00.002-04:002012-07-22T13:32:46.907-04:00Peace, community, and sustainability begins with us.<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;">How we envision ourselves in connection with others impacts our world. Are we alone in it, with individual desires and goals that must be attained at any cost to others and our environment? Or, are we part of a collective humanity, with the common goal of the greater good? Each person must decide the answers to these questions.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;">In this troubling time, I believe it is more important than ever to see beyond our individual needs and reach out, neighbor-to-neighbor, to establish how we, as a society, will move forward. Only by doing so can we create a world in which our children, and theirs, may thrive. <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Elements-Peace-How-Nonviolence-Works/dp/0786468548/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1342977611&sr=1-1"><b>Peace</b></a>, <a href="http://www.communitysolution.org/"><b>community</b></a>, and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sustainability"><b>sustainability</b></a> begins ultimately with each of us.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">I am grateful to <b><a href="https://www.facebook.com/fred.arment">Fred Arment</a>, </b></span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;">for sharing this thought-provoking video.</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><b> </b>Fred is an area author who is instrumental in the success of </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><b> </b>the <b><a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/internationalcitiesofpeace/permalink/10151155571897784/">International Cities of Peace</a>.</b> </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">Please, view the video, share it on your social media channels, and consider any means by which to implement this message in your life. </span></div>
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<em>Thank you so much for your comment at Scarlett Rains Sisters of the Hearts Blog. Every comment is read and appreciated.</em><strong style="background-color: white; color: #990000;"><em>Don't forget to subscribe either by <a href="http://scarlettrainssistersoftheheartsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" target="_blank"><span style="color: #45818e;">RSS</span></a> feed </em></strong><span style="background-color: white; color: #990000;"><span style="color: black;">or b</span><strong><em><span style="color: black;">y</span> </em></strong><span style="color: blue; font-family: Consolas; font-size: 10pt;"><a href="mailto:red.rain@sbcglobal.net"><span style="color: #45818e; font-size: small;">email</span></a></span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: black;"> . <em>Hope to see you again soon!</em></span></div>
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Please, subscribe and spread the love.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14405923622590679339noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337102728862301306.post-30514277986407894542012-07-20T20:10:00.000-04:002012-08-01T09:22:49.235-04:00How to get rid of that annoying wrench icon on the side of your widgets<div style="margin-right: 1em; padding-left: 1em; padding-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV9vjE6_gqUuOC_PuimzTt-6xBRO5DC2erUV-3GHskLTkErr8mBx6cNtyWF4cOJmKFs4UV_ppuhagJS33hIZGPaZJozBNylxLaVPJzw3iPLts7BRWDdTN9S8PDgeaFcga1ox-U5TiorM4/s1600/ScarlettsBeginningBloggertips.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV9vjE6_gqUuOC_PuimzTt-6xBRO5DC2erUV-3GHskLTkErr8mBx6cNtyWF4cOJmKFs4UV_ppuhagJS33hIZGPaZJozBNylxLaVPJzw3iPLts7BRWDdTN9S8PDgeaFcga1ox-U5TiorM4/s320/ScarlettsBeginningBloggertips.jpg" width="175" /></a><br />
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<div style="text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG9jL2t89rl6AgQwZ5z9GaikMrwzAljrZiLHRCMmvJUS8-j-tK5KJjYCStau0hNlnUehqeHsHRbT21lAymWoky36sOmFPc1z4ryGCVhDBS4-pB1SO52NL8-waqvxvZpZV4UT2DicZx38c/h120/wrenchiconframed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG9jL2t89rl6AgQwZ5z9GaikMrwzAljrZiLHRCMmvJUS8-j-tK5KJjYCStau0hNlnUehqeHsHRbT21lAymWoky36sOmFPc1z4ryGCVhDBS4-pB1SO52NL8-waqvxvZpZV4UT2DicZx38c/h120/wrenchiconframed.jpg" width="175" /></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">This stupid wrench icon was driving me crazy! I finally figured out how to get rid of it...after DAYS of trying this-and-that! I thought you might appreciate a little time-saving information, so, here you go! I hope it helps.</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: .35in;"><hr /><ol><li><span style="text-indent: 0.35in;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Go to </span></span><b style="text-indent: 0.35in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Template</span> </b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: 0.35in;">and</span><b style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: 0.35in;"> </b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: 0.35in;">click </span><b style="text-indent: 0.35in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Edit HTML</span></b><span style="text-indent: 0.35in;">,</span><span style="text-indent: 0.35in;"> then</span><b style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: 0.35in;"> </b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: 0.35in;">click </span><b style="text-indent: 0.35in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Proceed.</span></b></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: 0.35in;">Back up your template</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: 0.35in;">Click on </span><b style="text-indent: 0.35in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Expand Widget Templates</span></b></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: 0.35in;">Click </span><b style="text-indent: 0.35in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Control-f</span></b><span style="text-indent: 0.35in;"> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">key (for find) anywhere inside the template and a search box will open above the template.</span></span></li>
<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Type </span></span><b style="text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></b:template-skin></span> </span></b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: -0.25in;">in the<b> </b></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: 0.35in;">search </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: -0.25in;">box. T</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: 0.35in;">his will highlight </span></li>
<b style="text-indent: 0.35in;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></b:template-skin></span></b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: 0.35in;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: 0.35in;">within the code</span>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: 0.35in;">Type </span><code style="text-indent: 0.35in;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 115%; padding: 2pt;">.quickedit{display:none;}</span></b></code><code style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: 0.35in;"><span style="line-height: 115%; padding: 2pt;"> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">just<b> </b><span style="color: red;"><b>above</b></span> the </span></span></code><b style="text-indent: 0.35in;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></b:template-skin> tag</span></b></li>
<li><b style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: 0.35in;"><span style="color: red;">DO NOT HIT SAVE YET!</span></b></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: 3.25in;">Click </span><b style="text-indent: 3.25in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Preview </span></b><span style="text-indent: 3.25in;">and check your blog. The wrench icon </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: 3.25in;">should be gone.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: 0.35in;">If so, click </span><b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-indent: 0.35in;">Save.</b></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: 0.35in;">If it is not, just hit </span><b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Clear Edits </b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: 0.35in;">, then </span><b style="text-indent: 0.35in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Close</span></b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: 0.35in;">.</span></li>
</ol><hr /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3VYc5mYQJ-PUngep86PT7F3O6k4EyV2FURGK-aYNwMhlePGIPrlCHVMDLmKYCb0bhaiXjEuNCg5yq6HveZIckpoxzcJci6rtTQ5SnqWjnAx_OEY9Lh-6ZIKhUV5fVnudX7GqJl7DgqTM/s1600/rss.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3VYc5mYQJ-PUngep86PT7F3O6k4EyV2FURGK-aYNwMhlePGIPrlCHVMDLmKYCb0bhaiXjEuNCg5yq6HveZIckpoxzcJci6rtTQ5SnqWjnAx_OEY9Lh-6ZIKhUV5fVnudX7GqJl7DgqTM/s1600/rss.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><em>Thank you so much for your comment at Scarlett Rains Sisters of the Hearts Blog. Every comment is read and appreciated. </em><br />
<span style="color: #990000;"><strong><em>Don't forget to subscribe either by <a href="http://scarlettrainssistersoftheheartsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" target="_blank"><span style="color: #45818e;">RSS</span></a> feed </em></strong></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span style="color: black;">or b</span><strong><em><span style="color: black;">y</span> </em></strong><span style="color: blue; font-family: Consolas; font-size: 10pt;"><a href="mailto:red.rain@sbcglobal.net"><span style="color: #45818e; font-size: small;">email</span></a></span></span><span style="color: black;"> . <em>Hope to see you again soon!</em> </span></div></div></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://scarlettrainssistersoftheheartsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default
Please, subscribe and spread the love.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14405923622590679339noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337102728862301306.post-62770711654517535152012-07-20T20:02:00.000-04:002012-08-01T09:45:06.537-04:00How Blogging Murdered my Next Best Selling Novel!<div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQOMFyYTv44RDeMyA0cVThVTuI8VYRs3PMc_BzCJZA4lkf7UcCsPvvrPQK9RC35fzvXwah6eL-uMFcYtCX19yK0ECnvusjJ8wHmqUIzhfwV3W3HXebB5gE187gmyA115tyIxZnMSFJmig/s1600/perfectwritingpicScarlett.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQOMFyYTv44RDeMyA0cVThVTuI8VYRs3PMc_BzCJZA4lkf7UcCsPvvrPQK9RC35fzvXwah6eL-uMFcYtCX19yK0ECnvusjJ8wHmqUIzhfwV3W3HXebB5gE187gmyA115tyIxZnMSFJmig/s1600/perfectwritingpicScarlett.jpg" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; tab-stops: .5in;"> “I really was working on my book…” I say, not quite meeting her squinty eyes. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"> “I doubt it. You haven’t even brushed your hair this week.” She scrunched her nose and plucked a piece of lint, or something, off the top of my head.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"> It’s bad enough being caught out, but, being groomed like a chimp is really too much. I swat at her, and miss…wads of hair obstruct the view of my —always -perfectly- coiffured —editor. “What kind of thing is that to say?” I hold the wads of hair apart, the better to glare at her. “I don’t know why I put up with you.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"> Her look tells me the lack of feeling is mutual. “Is <i>Betrayals of the Heart</i> finished,” she asks, studying the pointiest of her acrylic nails…probably planning to poke me with it. “Have you even worked on it today? …This week? You know we’ve been waiting 6 months. “ </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"> Betrayals….the next great American historical romance novel, hasn’t seen the light of day in about a week now, but miss two-hundred-dollar-hairdo and dangerous-looking-nails doesn’t need to know that. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"> “I’ve been writing a lot lately as a matter-of-fact,” I say. True. I had ten lines written …when I noticed a cool cloud widget floating in my news stream, and a couple of other neat features I just had to have.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"> Well, Carolyn, my editor, didn’t get where she is today by not being able to read between the lines. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"> “Hhmm” she says, leaning over my shoulder to read the traitorous print telling all on my monitor. “<i>How to Make a Blue Tweety Bird Nest on Your Right Sidebar</i>. That’s just Riveting!” When I tried to hit the escape key, she pinned my hand to the desk with that pointy nail, and read on. “<i>How to Change the Background Color of Your Post from Lime to Pea Green When You’re Having a Pissy Day</i>. Interesting stuff. They’ll be lined up at the bookstore for that one.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"> How does she get her eyebrows to stand up like that, I wonder —looking for mercy as I yank my hand away— They look like perfectly penciled ‘M’s. (I hope I didn’t say that out loud. Sometimes my internal dialogue gets rambunctious …and she’s got some lethal tips on those nails.) </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"> “Well” I say, nursing my hand, my brows straining with tension like a tightly strung, under-appreciated, Ukulele, “you told me I had to promote my work. Well, blogging is how I network.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"> Those M’s look about ready to fly off her head! </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"> “I told you to promote…not procrastinate.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"> “I’m not procrastinating! I’m Blogging! “I put my hand over my heart. I can hear the National Anthem …La Marseillaise, and even —believe it or not—haunting strains of “O Canada” playing. Why can’t she? It must be a character flaw.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"> “When I suggested you join Book Blogs, I never thought you’d become so obsessive about it.” </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"> “Come now,” I snort …perfectly underscoring my sophisticated, avant-garde, style, “we both know me better than that.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"> “This is serious, Scarlett. You’re going to have to stop this blogging nonsense and finish your book. The Publisher’s going to withdraw if you drag this out any longer. We’ve been very patient with you.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"> That <i>is</i> serious. She’s right. The blogging is becoming a problem. “I know, Carolyn. But, it’s so fascinating. I love it. “</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"> Those eyes of hers have a way of seeing through me. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"> “Are you sure it’s not an elaborate avoidance mechanism?”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"> I really don’t like her.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"> “I’m not on Face Book. I don’t need to be liked,” she sniffs.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"> Crap! I must have said that out loud!</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"> She poked me hard with a copy of the contract. “Get off the blog and get back to work. “ She paused at the door. “By the way, stop embarrassing Mom and be on time Sunday. If you’re late again, I swear I’ll have Pastor Hendricks put you on the Prayer List.” </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"> “Don’t say it!” I can read her mind sometimes.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"> “Why didn’t I think of that before?” Her smarmy grin could shame a Cheshire cat. “Divine Intervention’s the only way I’m ever going to get Betrayals, isn’t it?”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"> I made a face at her back, clicked the mouse without looking and ….Oh, no! The dread 404 error…File Not Found! My blog file….gone! No back up…no blog! Snort! Sniffle. Beads of salty sweat floating on tears splash on my keyboard. I drum my bitten nails against the desk. “I’ll think about it tomorrow, “I murmur (in true Scarlett fashion). My choices right now are bleak: a) clean the house, or b) work on Betrayals. I’ll leave it to you to decide what happens next. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p> </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4BhBChHJWU7CrPWGeubBdDUxkEbyhYz2G3cPWxwLO9jDwzp62ekTzDcT5kfgteZk8Fo4qrKbA0JzoK3xMeKaxSkRwfVzt2ipBk9y_xmZfdhVPTdmImyuKFCd70HOPBsvz7-eY4N6fCt8/s1600/Scarllettheartsignatureiconamended-002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4BhBChHJWU7CrPWGeubBdDUxkEbyhYz2G3cPWxwLO9jDwzp62ekTzDcT5kfgteZk8Fo4qrKbA0JzoK3xMeKaxSkRwfVzt2ipBk9y_xmZfdhVPTdmImyuKFCd70HOPBsvz7-eY4N6fCt8/s1600/Scarllettheartsignatureiconamended-002.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3VYc5mYQJ-PUngep86PT7F3O6k4EyV2FURGK-aYNwMhlePGIPrlCHVMDLmKYCb0bhaiXjEuNCg5yq6HveZIckpoxzcJci6rtTQ5SnqWjnAx_OEY9Lh-6ZIKhUV5fVnudX7GqJl7DgqTM/s1600/rss.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3VYc5mYQJ-PUngep86PT7F3O6k4EyV2FURGK-aYNwMhlePGIPrlCHVMDLmKYCb0bhaiXjEuNCg5yq6HveZIckpoxzcJci6rtTQ5SnqWjnAx_OEY9Lh-6ZIKhUV5fVnudX7GqJl7DgqTM/s1600/rss.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><em>Thank you so much for your comment at Scarlett Rains Sisters of the Hearts Blog. Every comment is read and appreciated. </em><br />
<span style="color: #990000;"><strong><em>Don't forget to subscribe either by <a href="http://scarlettrainssistersoftheheartsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" target="_blank"><span style="color: #45818e;">RSS</span></a> feed </em></strong></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span style="color: black;">or b</span><strong><em><span style="color: black;">y</span> </em></strong><span style="color: blue; font-family: Consolas; font-size: 10pt;"><a href="mailto:red.rain@sbcglobal.net"><span style="color: #45818e; font-size: small;">email</span></a></span></span><span style="color: black;"> . <em>Hope to see you again soon!</em> </span></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://scarlettrainssistersoftheheartsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default
Please, subscribe and spread the love.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14405923622590679339noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337102728862301306.post-46892830514003934182012-07-20T15:55:00.002-04:002012-07-20T15:56:31.151-04:00Scarlett's YA-Historical novel: Promises of the Heart<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<table border="1" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="MsoTableGrid" style="background-color: #e2bcdd; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-collapse: collapse; border: none; margin-left: -0.5em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center; width: 300px;"><tbody></tbody><tbody>
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<img border="0" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXHQxXPlSVLM0R-WWsNybf-sNX6VsNyIuvp_ukPasIFW4h5QbPLO7iT0uYn99mI37qUti1jb_YYQj4dQBcfZ23PH98w-dotXexabNGkBWgilSs8_DHndQwawTQuKS76MLnpzGVqFY5W9I/s200/Snapshot+Promises+Final+for+mag+_news.JPG" width="200" /></div>
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<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Promises-Heart-Sisters-Book/dp/0615328911/ref=cm_rdp_product"><span style="color: windowtext; text-decoration: none;"></span></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16pt;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Promises-Heart-Sisters-Book/dp/0615328911/ref=cm_rdp_product">Promises of the Heart</a></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">(Sisters of the Heart, Series: Book 1)<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<a href="http://scarlettrainssistersoftheheartsblog.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 22pt;">Scarlett Rains</span></a><span style="color: #c00000; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 22pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/review/R2NAWIXEQL6OMG/ref=cm_cr_dp_title?ie=UTF8&ASIN=0615328911&nodeID=283155&store=books">Pulls You In...</a></span></b><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 9.5pt;">By</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 9.5pt;"> </span><span style="color: #996633; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 9.5pt;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/pdp/profile/A1EXQ2B4ZCFFQ7/ref=cm_cr_dp_pdp">Nancy Jill Thames</a></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">"Promises of the Heart" is an eighteenth century tale of a young girl's coming of age. The first thing I really liked about this book was the lovely graphics reflecting the time period in London, England. The reader is also pulled into the story at once with carefully crafted prose appealing to all five senses.</span><b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"> </span></b><a href="http://www.amazon.com/review/R2NAWIXEQL6OMG/ref=cm_cr_pr_perm?ie=UTF8&ASIN=0615328911&linkCode=&nodeID=&tag=" target="_blank" title="Read the full review by Alle Wells"><b><span style="color: #0084b4; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; text-decoration: none;">Read more</span></b></a><b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; text-decoration: none;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/review/RE7MAUJO1I9KK/ref=cm_cr_dp_title?ie=UTF8&ASIN=0615328911&nodeID=283155&store=books">Rompin' Historical Romantic Fun</a></span></b><span style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 9.5pt;">By</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 9.5pt;"> </span><span style="color: #996633; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 9.5pt;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/pdp/profile/A21YYDTDDCSCX8/ref=cm_cr_dp_pdp">The Notebook Blogairy</a></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“Promises of the Heart is a lovely first book in the Heart series. Fans of historical fiction &/or historical romance would do well to read it.”</span><b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"> </span></b><a href="http://www.amazon.com/review/RE7MAUJO1I9KK/ref=cm_cr_pr_perm?ie=UTF8&ASIN=0615328911&linkCode=&nodeID=&tag=" target="_blank" title="Read the full review by Alle Wells"><b><span style="color: #0084b4; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; text-decoration: none;">Read more</span></b></a><b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; text-decoration: none;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/review/RM1A798DHLU8C/ref=cm_cr_dp_title?ie=UTF8&ASIN=0615328911&nodeID=283155&store=books">Promises of the Heart</a></span></b><span style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 9.5pt;">By</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 9.5pt;"> </span><span style="color: #996633; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 9.5pt;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/pdp/profile/AKAJW0A1OL4IJ/ref=cm_cr_dp_pdp">Nanasthoughts</a></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“I found this book to be most enjoyable. The story line kept my interest with romance, laughter, and mystery. The adventure is all wrapped in a delightful story stamped with the propriety of the 18th century. I am looking forward to the next book.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<em>Thank you so much for your comment at Scarlett Rains Sisters of the Hearts Blog. Every comment is read and appreciated.</em><strong style="background-color: white; color: #990000;"><em>Don't forget to subscribe either by <a href="http://scarlettrainssistersoftheheartsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" target="_blank"><span style="color: #45818e;">RSS</span></a> feed </em></strong><span style="background-color: white; color: #990000;"><span style="color: black;">or b</span><strong><em><span style="color: black;">y</span> </em></strong><span style="color: blue; font-family: Consolas; font-size: 10pt;"><a href="mailto:red.rain@sbcglobal.net"><span style="color: #45818e; font-size: small;">email</span></a></span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: black;"> . <em>Hope to see you again soon!</em></span></div>
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Please, subscribe and spread the love.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14405923622590679339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337102728862301306.post-40824432206606111852012-07-20T15:19:00.000-04:002012-08-01T09:29:05.940-04:00My latest poem, and an invitation to be a Guest Poet on my blog...<hr /><div style="margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpQhk37vUoOX9y0Jtt8LQ9FzhCVmH9f-EL94Sp7Xl8CxzYxLghxBp_q2ZVnLA2zGQRB4kuImC3WTTTvUh0kkPLOa6PognKPh-9iyxuU7n_wb5hU2-2d9zMqMtCLMfIVgwO9VSpCpLf6V8/s1600/elderlywoman.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpQhk37vUoOX9y0Jtt8LQ9FzhCVmH9f-EL94Sp7Xl8CxzYxLghxBp_q2ZVnLA2zGQRB4kuImC3WTTTvUh0kkPLOa6PognKPh-9iyxuU7n_wb5hU2-2d9zMqMtCLMfIVgwO9VSpCpLf6V8/s320/elderlywoman.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large; text-align: justify;">I hope you enjoy my poem, <b><a href="http://scarlettrainspoeticmusings.blogspot.com/2012/07/it-was-just-thing.html">It Was Just a Thing</a>.</b></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large; text-align: justify;"> This poem is about the damaging impact of lost trust, particularly at a vulnerable juncture in one's life.</span></div><div style="margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">If you are a poet, read my guidelines for being a Guest Poet</span><span style="font-weight: normal;"> </span><a href="http://scarlettrainspoeticmusings.blogspot.com/"><b>here</b></a><span style="font-weight: normal;">. </span><span style="font-weight: normal;">I'd love to feature your poetry on my blog. </span> <span style="font-weight: normal;">I intend to promote the work of fellow poets whenever possible by providing a forum for sharing and discussion. So, don't be shy. :)</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div><hr <div="" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3VYc5mYQJ-PUngep86PT7F3O6k4EyV2FURGK-aYNwMhlePGIPrlCHVMDLmKYCb0bhaiXjEuNCg5yq6HveZIckpoxzcJci6rtTQ5SnqWjnAx_OEY9Lh-6ZIKhUV5fVnudX7GqJl7DgqTM/s1600/rss.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3VYc5mYQJ-PUngep86PT7F3O6k4EyV2FURGK-aYNwMhlePGIPrlCHVMDLmKYCb0bhaiXjEuNCg5yq6HveZIckpoxzcJci6rtTQ5SnqWjnAx_OEY9Lh-6ZIKhUV5fVnudX7GqJl7DgqTM/s1600/rss.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><em>Thank you so much for your comment at Scarlett Rains Sisters of the Hearts Blog. Every comment is read and appreciated. </em><br />
<span style="color: #990000;"><strong><em>Don't forget to subscribe either by <a href="http://scarlettrainssistersoftheheartsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" target="_blank"><span style="color: #45818e;">RSS</span></a> feed </em></strong></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span style="color: black;">or b</span><strong><em><span style="color: black;">y</span> </em></strong><span style="color: blue; font-family: Consolas; font-size: 10pt;"><a href="mailto:red.rain@sbcglobal.net"><span style="color: #45818e; font-size: small;">email</span></a></span></span><span style="color: black;"> . <em>Hope to see you again soon!</em> </span></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://scarlettrainssistersoftheheartsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default
Please, subscribe and spread the love.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14405923622590679339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337102728862301306.post-49494189842926315832012-07-19T10:34:00.000-04:002012-08-01T09:19:57.508-04:00Short-Story Feature: The Moments Between...<span style="font-size: large;"><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 2em; margin-right: 2em; text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUJBXYagIQtOF_va-nYdsJPa_DR1ahzxGPZbhw5bpE50-LSMC5lrCCE0Ow3CaPx8ML1wrxQJ3RJ7oyROsG6xYiUPkqmslyq_sl5Tt7jyEf6t6iTtpqm6qtJOamJhsCcqkZHFysC_bfFho/s1600/ScarlettsAdviceFortheLovelornframed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="235" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUJBXYagIQtOF_va-nYdsJPa_DR1ahzxGPZbhw5bpE50-LSMC5lrCCE0Ow3CaPx8ML1wrxQJ3RJ7oyROsG6xYiUPkqmslyq_sl5Tt7jyEf6t6iTtpqm6qtJOamJhsCcqkZHFysC_bfFho/s320/ScarlettsAdviceFortheLovelornframed.jpg" width="250" /></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>The Moments Between</b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 2em; margin-right: 2em; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It can't be five o'clock already!</i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> "Move, Scrappy!" I scoot the pesky dog out of the way, open the microwave and bend down to stick the broccoli casserole in, almost pinching kitty's tail in the door. He’s so busy cleaning every inch of himself that he doesn't notice. "Get down, Marshall Dillon." </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> The fat cat slinks out of arms reach, licks his paw and flattens out on the cutting board like a placemat. Seconds later, he is airborne out the front door. I stick my foot down, blocking the wily critter's attempt to get by me and slam the door before he sneaks back in. His paw prints, clearly visible on my beautiful counter, erase any niggling guilt. I yank out a handful of antiseptic wipes and clean the counter, finishing up just as the phone rings.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> "Hi Honey, what's going on?" I half-listen to John’s reply, rifling through the mish-mash of odds-and-ends in my utensil drawer. </span><i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Where's that frigging paring knife? Onions, tomatoes, lettuce...I need the cheese.</i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> "Good,” I mumble, “It's almost ready." I give up my hunt for the knife and fish in the refrigerator drawer for fixens. Slim pickens. Mold makes the Cheddar look like Monterey Jack. Gross! Fortunately, the slime ball that used to be lettuce still has one light green leaf. I salvage it and pitch the rest. </span><i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Maybe I should ask John to pick some up? Forget it. He'd never remember. Poor guy has to have a shopping list for two items. Speaking of memory.</i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> "Don't forget to get the mail," I remind him, before hanging up.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> A wad of cat fur clings to the receiver. </span><i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">That is disgusting. I should have bought stock in Clorox.</i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I push the stack of bills and odds-and-ends back to clear a spot for the plates. I'd just finished setting the table when the unmistakable vroom of our old VW's muffler announces John’s arrival.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> "Don't let the cat in," I yell, as he opens the door.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> "What?" he hesitates, one foot in. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Put him out." I point at the grey ball of fur trying to make him-self invisible on the barstool. "I just cleaned the counter." </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “In a minute.” He slips off his shoes. “I’ve been dying to take these off. It’s hot as Hell. “</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “Here, Honey.” I hand him a tall glass of iced tea. He looks like he needs it.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> "Thanks." He took a long drink. "What a crappy day." He tossed his tie on the chair and unbuttoned his collar. His permanent press shirt stuck to his chest. Sweat rings peak out from under his arms as he reaches for Marshall Dillon.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 2em; margin-right: 2em; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Well, Marshall Dillon had never walked away from a showdown, and he isn't about to coward-out now. He spits, hisses and takes a swipe at John then hooks his paws around the slats of the bar stool and holds on for dear life. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> John wins their tug-of-war. He pitches the mewling cat out and slams the door, narrowly missing Marshall's paw.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> "You shouldn't be so rough with him!" I’m the only one qualified to give Marshall flying lessons. He’s my cat. I know his limits and he knows mine. I shake the mustard bottle, turn it upside down and pound it hard against the counter trying to free the last glob, sticking like yellow glue, at the bottom. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> "He's fine." He empties his pockets on the counter, not troubling to put a single coin, key, or piece of pocket lint in the proper receptacle. “He’s got at least 8 lives left.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I gather up the pile he made and toss it in the bin which, in a perfect world, was intended for such odds- and-ends. "Where's the mail?" I watch for tell-tale signs, sensing the answer. The look on his face says it all. "You're kidding me, John. I </span><i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">just</i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> reminded you fifteen minutes ago." Whack, whack, whack! Squirt! The last bit of mustard sprayed on the bun. "I think you have Old-timer's disease. I swear I do," I said, picturing him as a demented old fart with spittle running down his chin. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> "I had things on my mind." He leans against the counter, watching me. "It's probably just bills anyway."</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> "Well ignoring them won't help matters, will it?" I rummage in the cutlery drawer. "Where's the stupid paring knife?"</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> "Here," he pulls it out of the rack and hands it to me. "Lighten up, all right? I'll get the mail after dinner."</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> "You should have gotten it on your way home." Slice and count...slice and count. "You put everything I ask you to do last on your list." Ten perfectly even slices of onion, and teary eyes, speak of my frustration.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> "You're making a big deal out of nothing." He opens the fridge, gathering condiments. "Where's the ketchup?"</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span><i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Heaven help me</i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">. I study the crack in the ceiling tile over the corner cabinet. </span><i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">How does he make it through a day?</i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I look down. </span><i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Crap!</i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> The spoon I thought I stuck back in the mayo jar is lying on the electric bill, leaving its outline on the envelope like a CSI prop. I blot the oily blob off and quickly hide the bill in my purse. I needn't have worried. He didn’t notice. He’s still on his ketchup quest. Amusing as it is to watch his head turn left and right in the fridge, I detest cold dinner. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> "Top shelf, back left," I say, slapping a patty on another bun and slathering mayo on it. I pitch the spoon in the sink.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> "We're out." He closed the fridge, looking at me with his brows raised in that annoying fashion. "We're not that broke. Why didn't you get some?" He sighs heavily, eyeing the turkey burgers as if he'd sell his soul for a big slab of artery-clogging beef ...slathered in ketchup.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span><i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In</i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span><i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">through the nose and out through the mouth...that's it...count to ten. This man is the love of your life.</i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I put down the paring knife, open the fridge, grab the ketchup bottle, and put it in his hand.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> He narrows his eyes, looking at me as if he thinks I slipped it from beneath my skirt or from some top-secret- hidden- fridge compartment that Frigidaire sales-folk only reveal to women. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Dinner is an exercise in monosyllabic responses. The click of his jaw as he chews echoes annoyingly in the silence. He seems to realize it. He finishes quickly, flashes me a tight smile and starts clean up. The droop of his shoulders as he works begins to make me feel guilty. Watching him scrub the same bowl about fifty times, it dawns on me that his mind is on something else. Then it hits me! </span><i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Crap! Today was his review</i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> "I'm sorry I was so bitchy." I wrap my arms around him, pressing my head against his back. "How did your review go?"</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> "I'm not getting that raise." He tossed the rag in the sink.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> My gut clenched. The bills were stacking up. No point dwelling on it, he felt bad enough already. "Those bastards don't deserve you." I squeeze him tighter. "Don't worry about it, Honey, we'll manage." The dryer buzzed. I give him a quick kiss. "Will you put Scrappy out? He looks like he's ready to squirt...or something." </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> As if on cue, Scrappy licks his gonads like they are shellacked in gravy.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> "Yeah," he nods, turning as his cell phone rings.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> "Who calls at dinnertime?” I ask. “That's so rude." </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> He shrugs, checking caller ID. "It's, Mom," he sighs.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> I point at my watch, reminding him to watch his minutes. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> He waves me away, turns his back and settles in for another long, one-sided, conversation we can't afford.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 2em; margin-right: 2em; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I busy myself folding laundry, trying not to find the long lulls in conversation, which are costing us money, too annoying. His Mom, though sweet in her peculiar sacchariny way, does not appreciate the finer points of silence...unless it is someone else's. Poor guy can't get a word in edgewise. After twenty minutes of listening to ‘uh-huh's’: fired-up by the image of dollars disappearing down the drain, I march into the kitchen... stopping suddenly when moisture seeps through my cotton sock, wicking up between my toes. I lift my foot, looking to see what I've stepped in. </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A yellow puddle pools on the white ceramic tile, filling the grout line ...pointing right at John!</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> "</span><i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You </i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">are cleaning that up!" I yank the disgusting sock off, wave it at him and stalk away. When I return, he is sprawled in his favorite chair: beer and remote at the ready.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> I plop down on the couch and snatch a magazine off the table. "I swear I think you do this crap on purpose, just to piss me off!"</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> "The phone rang and I forgot, all right?" He changes the channel and props his leg up. "At least it wasn't poop. Chill out!" He twists the cap off an icy cold Bud, downs about half of it and reclines his chair...wiggles around, and settles in his football-watching pose.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span><i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Chill out?</i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> My eyebrows make a run for my hairline! </span><i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">If he thinks he's going to tune me out and watch the game he, and the NFL, are S.O.L!</i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I snatch the remote from the table and switch the channel to Masterpiece Theater.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> "Cut it out!" He is, mid-snatch, reaching for the remote ...when the power goes out.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span><i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Oh no!</i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I bite my lip and put the remote down.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> "Didn't you pay the bill?" He asks, staring at me.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 2em; margin-right: 2em; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Well, I'm no Saint. It crossed my mind to blame it on him...tell him it was one of those bills in the mailbox that he<i> forgot</i> to bring home. But, I just couldn't do it. Sometimes you have to woman-up and take your medicine. "I'm sorry." Tears welled up. I sat silently in the dark, trying not to sniffle, waiting for the lecture I deserved.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 2em; margin-right: 2em; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> "It's not the end of the world." He pats my hand. "C'mon. Let's go to bed. We can watch the game on my phone."</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I wipe my runny nose. "You want another beer?"</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> "Sure."</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 2em; margin-right: 2em; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> We drink our Buds snuggled together, watching a team I knew nothing about maul another bunch of crazies…all for control of a goofy pigskin. I didn't see the point of the game at all, but I enjoyed every minute of it...hooting and hollering right along with the love of my life. <i>It's all about these moments</i>. I hand him a tissue when beer trickles down his chin. <i>The rest is just filler</i>. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 2em; margin-right: 2em; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 14px; text-align: center;">© Scarlett Rains</span> </div><hr /><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #660000; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Message: Be tolerant, keep a sense of humor and...pay your bills on time. :0)</span></b></div><hr /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3VYc5mYQJ-PUngep86PT7F3O6k4EyV2FURGK-aYNwMhlePGIPrlCHVMDLmKYCb0bhaiXjEuNCg5yq6HveZIckpoxzcJci6rtTQ5SnqWjnAx_OEY9Lh-6ZIKhUV5fVnudX7GqJl7DgqTM/s1600/rss.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3VYc5mYQJ-PUngep86PT7F3O6k4EyV2FURGK-aYNwMhlePGIPrlCHVMDLmKYCb0bhaiXjEuNCg5yq6HveZIckpoxzcJci6rtTQ5SnqWjnAx_OEY9Lh-6ZIKhUV5fVnudX7GqJl7DgqTM/s1600/rss.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><em>Thank you so much for your comment at Scarlett Rains Sisters of the Hearts Blog. Every comment is read and appreciated. </em><br />
<span style="color: #990000;"><strong><em>Don't forget to subscribe either by <a href="http://scarlettrainssistersoftheheartsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" target="_blank"><span style="color: #45818e;">RSS</span></a> feed </em></strong></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span style="color: black;">or b</span><strong><em><span style="color: black;">y</span> </em></strong><span style="color: blue; font-family: Consolas; font-size: 10pt;"><a href="mailto:red.rain@sbcglobal.net"><span style="color: #45818e; font-size: small;">email</span></a></span></span><span style="color: black;"> . <em>Hope to see you again soon!</em> </span></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://scarlettrainssistersoftheheartsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default
Please, subscribe and spread the love.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14405923622590679339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337102728862301306.post-6080164810570845342012-07-19T08:50:00.000-04:002012-07-19T08:50:24.893-04:00My Featured Guest is Patricia Paris<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgex81UCYIwt0kOi5jvW5VxpMUeqmCRE8tiAnJFRNoivTvN4D_oMYLrz_jNzweUHGNf-XRL74WPg9k-2i6QZu_Z6QnSJCTkLnGZAcOBZs-HFDw9dlrWHAmBWeNO2muRt1cROenppq9OFPE/s1600/catholicschoolframed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><img border="0" height="163" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgex81UCYIwt0kOi5jvW5VxpMUeqmCRE8tiAnJFRNoivTvN4D_oMYLrz_jNzweUHGNf-XRL74WPg9k-2i6QZu_Z6QnSJCTkLnGZAcOBZs-HFDw9dlrWHAmBWeNO2muRt1cROenppq9OFPE/s200/catholicschoolframed.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">M<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 15px; text-align: justify;">y featured guest this week is my new friend, </span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 15px;"><a href="http://patriciaeparis.blogspot.com/"><b>Patricia Paris</b></a>. </span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.2em; outline: none;">Today, Patricia is sharing </span><span style="background-color: white;"><b><a href="http://scarlettrainsguest.blogspot.com/2012/07/patricia-paris-shares-her-short-story.html">Memories That Mold Us</a></b></span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.2em;">. I read this story and fell in love with it. Stop over, read this sweet story and leave a comment for Patricia</span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 1.2em;">.</span></span></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;">
<em style="background-color: white;">Thank you so much for your comment at Scarlett Rains Sisters of the Hearts Blog. Every comment is read and appreciated.</em><strong style="background-color: white; color: #990000;"><em>Don't forget to subscribe either by <a href="http://scarlettrainssistersoftheheartsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" target="_blank"><span style="color: #45818e;">RSS</span></a> feed </em></strong><span style="background-color: white; color: #990000;"><span style="color: black;">or b</span><strong><em><span style="color: black;">y</span> </em></strong><span style="color: blue; font-family: Consolas; font-size: 10pt;"><a href="mailto:red.rain@sbcglobal.net"><span style="color: #45818e; font-size: small;">email</span></a></span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: black;"> . <em>Hope to see you again soon!</em></span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://scarlettrainssistersoftheheartsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default
Please, subscribe and spread the love.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14405923622590679339noreply@blogger.com5