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Fall has arrived here in the mountains of western North Carolina and God is painting my world with wondrous, sparkling color.  All I have to do is look out my window to see it, but I’ve been so caught up in all this mess with my publisher–more on that later!–that I haven’t paid much attention.  Until yesterday when, as if to remind me not to take this beautiful array of colors for granted, God steered me in a new direction.

My husband and I were looking at a house that we’d noticed a couple of months ago when it was listed as a lease to own deal.  We liked the house, loved the location, but the price they were asking for rent–with the never certain option of buying–was way too much.  I mean, why would we pay close to two thousand dollars a month to rent–essentially–when we could buy for the same or less.  So, anyway, when the real estate agent called and said they’d listed it for sale, we went to take another look.

It’s located on a road that runs beside the French Broad River then veers off to go up a mountain.  It has an acre of land with it, and is almost completely secluded from houses around it–which is a very big deal for someone like me who isn’t a “people person” and would be happy if she never had to actually talk to another person.  The only thing we don’t like is the amount of development going on around it, but we’re pretty sure we can live with that.  Still, my husband, knowing how I am and being slightly anal on top of that, decided we needed to drive around and check out the rest of the area to look for signs of future development…

and don’t ask me how, but we ended up in Pisgah National Forest on a one-way gravel road that wound up the side of another mountain then back down again.  We still haven’t figured out where we went wrong, but we spent almost an hour on that bumpy, winding road and when we finally got off, we were on the Blue Ridge Parkway, thirty miles west of Asheville.

The thing is…that unplanned drive brought home all I was missing by not looking out my window every day and noticing what was going on all around me.  God is painting furiously and He’s using not just all His colors, but every hue and tint He can find.  My favorites are the yellows, everything from brilliant, sundrop lemon to muted, dusty gold, and the reds, which range from dazzling, garish crimson to intense, smoky burgundy.  The other colors of the rainbow are there too; the oranges, blues, greens, and even touches of deep violet in some of the red leaves.

So, my world is a living rainbow right now.  Is yours?  Take a look out your window…and I hope you see not only the colors all around you, but also the promises and hopes to be found as God swirls the different shades on His palette and creates a glorious, ever-changing masterpiece!

I can’t think of a single thing to write about right now.  So I’m just going to do my personal style of…um, can’t remember what it’s called…you know, that psychic thingie where you have a pencil in your hand, you clear your mind, and let your pencil write without thinking about what you’re writing, only I’m doing it with a keyboard instead of a pencil–and jeez, I hope my editor doesn’t read this ’cause she’ll probably drive all the way up here from Georgia and shoot me for that run-on sentence.

It’s a ho-hum Tuesday in my neck of the woods.  The sun is coming out, melting away the mist that’s hovering around the mountains and we’re supposed to have a high of 73 degrees today.  It was down in the forties this morning when I got up and it’s almost like being back in Maine.  Except here I have the mountains around me, which is something I really missed when I lived in Maine.  Not that there weren’t mountains there, but we lived in southern Maine, about a half hour south of Portland in a little town called Saco.  You had to drive some distance to see mountains, but I could get in my car and be at the beach in about ten minutes.  That was nice, but I’m not a beach type of person, I much prefer the mountains.  I guess that’s because I was raised in Knoxville, at the foot of the Smoky Mountains. or maybe it’s because my dad’s family is from Black Mountain, NC, and I spent a lot of time there while I was growing up.  We always went to the mountains on vacation.  I never even saw a beach until I was eighteen and went to Florida with some friends after my freshman year of college.

Stream of conciousness–is that what this is called?  Hmm, doesn’t sound right, but what do I know?

Since I got up, I’ve been researching publishers, trying to figure out who I’m going to submit my manuscript to–you know, the one I just got the rights back for?  I’ve got a list of five, one of which is located in the South and is looking for books with a strong southern presence, which Snow Shadows definitely has.  It takes place in the mountains of North Carolina and is based on an ancient Cherokee legend–hard to get more Southern than that.

Next, comes the dreaded query letter–blech!  I don’t even want to think about that right now.

Okay, I’ve got to say this and quit putting it off.  Maybe if I write about it, I can put it aside.  The Red Sox lost last night and the Yankees won, which means our lead in the AL East is down to 3 1/2 games.  There are eleven games left and I’m afraid the prediction I made back in May is about to come true–the Yankees are going to come back and take the AL East.  The Red Sox, well, the way we’re playing right now, we don’t even deserve to be in the wild card race, but we’ll probably make it.  I just don’t think we have a snowball’s chance of going any farther (further–there’s those two words again, I’m going to have to look them up on Grammar Slammer and get them straight in my mind once and for all).

And as Forrest Gump said, that’s all I have to say about that.  It’s too painful to talk about.

So, this ho-hum day is going to be spent in the worst possible way–well, okay, maybe not the worst possible, but it’s pretty bad in my book–drafting, and hopefully polishing, a query letter to be sent to the publishers I’ve chosen to submit to.  I probably should read over the synopsis again, I’m sure it could benefit from a bit of polishing too.  I should probably get busy on that right now…

The thing is, there’s this side of me I call the Procrastination Slut and I have a feeling she’s going to come to the forefront today.  Which means I probably won’t get a thing done, at least, nothing of any value.  

Oh, well, that might be the best thing considering my second book is coming out tomorrow, and I’ll be busy all day with promotions.  I hope you’ll check it out, Unwilling Angel by Caitlyn Hunter at  It’s a sweet paranormal romance along the lines of It’s a Wonderful LIfe.


Whistling Woman by CC Tillery

Winds of Fate

Storm Shadows

Snow Shadows

PMS Anthology

Romance of My Dreams