A Day in My LIfe

Right now, it's about nine am on a glorious, early summer morning. I'm sipping a small chai tea, (cold, because that's the way I like them) with a 50 lb chocolate lab under my desk sniffing my bare toes. The chai could be larger ... my daughter, Maya also loves the stuff, and rarely leaves me as much as I'd like. The dog? Well, it would be better if she were smaller, especially since she's always under my desk ... but both she and her sister are only eight months old, so I think they still have some growing to do.

Phoebe and Ursula

Today is perhaps not the best example of a normal day ... we are just beginning our summer break from school, and my daughter is with my husband, standing in line at the DMV where she is waiting to take a written test for her drivers permit. My son, Scott, is downstairs, most likely trying to sleep through the cavorting and playing over-sized puppies making a huge ruckus above his head, and I am thinking about what we can do as a family once everyone is back home again because my hubby has the week off work. 

A normal day in my life? Well ... that goes something more like this ...

I am a homeschooling mom. I have been for thirteen years. I remember our first day well. It was on May 4th, just one day after Maya celebrated her fourth birthday. We were living in Castle Rock, Colorado, just about an hour north of where we're at now. We sat in our red kitchen at the little round dining table and Maya learned how to read and write and tell time. Scott was six months old when we began our homeschooling journey.

Now it's a bit different. Maya turned seventeen a month ago, and Scott is halfway to his fourteenth year. I get up at around 6:30 every morning and release the hounds. (Do you have any idea just how much energy two chocolate lab puppies contain in their strong, sleek, clumsy bodies?) They have a tendency to jump the fence down in the far corner. I guess the grass is greener in our sweet, very patient neighbor's yard, so I sit on the top step of our deck and watch them like a blurry-eyed hawk while they cavort and pee and run and pee and chase one another and pee. Then it's breakfast time for the pooches, and, if I'm lucky, I get a couple of hours to sit and write.

This is Mouse. He lives here, too, but he doesn't cavort. He's a pretty good cuddler, though.

From about sevenish until about nine thirty, I try to be as creative as I can be. Of course this time period includes about a hundred trips back outside where I sit on that top step and holler at the dogs, (mostly Phoebe, who is the smaller of the two, and definitely the most cunning) and drink chai, (if Maya has left me any) or hot coffee sweetened with cinnamon vanilla creamer. When I'm lucky, these two hours produce big word counts ... sometimes, not so much. A lot depends upon how many times I have to defend my toes from hot, soft puppy tongues. It also depends on how distracted I am by Facebook and/or Pinterest. (I'm addicted to Pinterest, y'all. Addicted and not looking for ways of recovery.)

At ten, our school day begins. The kids, especially now that they're older, do a lot of their classes online. Maya has taken and received credit for several college level courses in psychology, biology and English. Scott, who should be ready to start the eight grade because of his age, is about to become a freshman in high school. That kid is much smarter than I'll ever be, so I make sure he gets his core curriculum in, and in his spare time, he writes code, watches documentaries and taps away at the keyboard doing God knows what. I know that he's writing a story, perhaps the beginnings of a book, but he won't let me read it. Since it isn't for school, I don't press the matter. He'll probably be a best selling author one day ... show me up big time.

We usually study until about noon, and that's when we have our lunch break. After lunch, it's back to class until around three. I usually just make sure both kids are following and checking assignments off of their curriculum, (if it isn't a course online, it's one I've gone through and organized for them). They've gotten older now, and are responsible kiddos. (They test like public school kids do at the end of the year with a national standardized test ... not graded by me.) Maya's studying both French and German. The French I'm helpful with ... the German ... eh, not so much. I've re-read many books with her in the last couple of years ... To Kill a Mockingbird, The Crucible, The Scarlet Letter, Huckleberry Finn ... not to mention some of the great poets such as Whitman, Dickinson and Poe (just to name a few). In January, she'll be taking a few classes at Pike's Peak Community College, and will have a good amount of college credit under her belt before she graduates high school in a year. We run around a bit during the day sometimes. We have a great library which houses a homeschooling resource center. That's where we find our science labs and other essentials for class. We don't have a set schedule ... not like we did when they were younger. Now they have a curriculum and they know when everything needs to be done. Sometimes they work on one subject for a long period of time, sometimes they work on six classes in a school day. It all depends on the day.

School ends at about the same time my husband, Steven, gets home from work. (He leaves the house at 4:30 am!) That's chill out time for a bit until it's time to start dinner. Scotty usually prepares meals with me. (I'm still a bit like Nemo ... one fin is weaker than the other.) Dinner is spread out. We are in the process of remodeling our family room downstairs, and the kids and I work at the dining room table. Sometimes we eat while watching a movie, sometimes I go downstairs and hang out with Steven. Someday soon we'll have meal time back at the table where it belongs. We just kind of go with the flow.

Because Steven gets up before the sun, he goes to bed super early. That's when I go back to work. It's in these couple of hours that I do a lot of my editing and more writing ... and, if I can, I do some reading here, as well. Then it's off to bed for me between ten and eleven ... I'm tired from all the cavorting and peeing and toe licking by then, and it's time to put the puppies to bed. We all need rest so we can start it over again the next day.

Is it glamorous? Not so much. Is it exciting? Well ... sometimes it can be, but I suppose that depends upon individual perspective. It is mine, though, and I love it. I wouldn't have it any other way.

Oh, and I just got word that Maya now has her permit. That means we'll be doing a lot of instructional driving this summer before our normal day to day kicks in again in August. :)

 

A little (or not so little) about a lot

Today is June 1st. The date is significant to me, but not because it marks an anniversary, or a loved one's birthday. It's important because it brings something in my everyday world to a close ... and is the beginning of another exciting chapter in this wonderful thing called life.

I haven't written about this. I've chosen not to. I just needed a little time. I'm ready now.

In February of 2015, I got a job as an editor and proofreader with Booktrope Publishing. I came across the company quite by accident. I learned about them through another indie author whose books I had enjoyed and then later befriended. She announced the acceptance of her manuscript on her Facebook wall, and then mentioned in passing that I might want to check them out. At the time, I had published both The Color of Thunder and Alabama Skye through Xlibris Publishing, and, while my first go around was fantastic, my second experience had left a bad taste in my mouth. I wasn't sure exactly what I wanted to do with a third book, but I knew I wouldn't be going through Xlibris again. I thought maybe I'd like to have a go at self-publishing. I'd had a lot of conversations with other authors who had gone that route and been successful. Editing and proofreading for Booktrope, however ... now that sounded like something I wanted to give some serious thought to. 

I wasn't new to this kind of work. I've loved the written word since as far back as I can remember, and I've been reading and writing since I was a small child. I'd worked with two different publishers; one as a jack of all trades who did a little bit of everything that was needed to put together a nationally distributed magazine, and one as a writer of everything homeschooling. I'd been a photographer, a layout designer, an editor, a proofreader, a writer and all around super secretary. I'd taken a long hiatus, but had it in my mind that I might want to start my own editing and proofreading company someday. I hadn't held a paying job since December, 2000, but this, I thought, this was something I could be good at, and it might give me a little more experience before jumping into something on my own.

One of the requirements to apply for a job with Booktrope was to set up a LinkedIn account. I'd had no reason to do so before, but as I was putting my profile together, filling in all the blanks, I realized that I'd actually accomplished quite a bit, considering the fact that I'd been a stay at home/homeschooling mom for two kids for nearly fifteen years. I took a lot of time building that online resume. (It's here if you'd like to take a look.) 

When I started with Booktrope, I had no idea how to do anything. I was a little intimidated, but excited, too, and I jumped right in. The company was based on a team publishing concept. There was the author, a book manager, a project manager, cover designer, editor, proofreader and a marketing director. I went through and read the synopsis' for many books and chose a couple that I was interested in. The first author I got to work with was Allison J. Kennedy, and then I signed on to work with author Jennifer Sivec. It just kind of snowballed from there.

This past February, I celebrated my one year anniversary with Booktrope. By that time I'd jumped into the self-publishing pool with A Skye Full of Stars, the second book in The Gannon Family Series. I didn't really know what I was doing. The formatting of both print and ebook versions were a bit of a nightmare, but I got through it ... and I had decided that I probably wasn't going to try to become a Booktrope author, although I was still enjoying my role with the company as editor and proofreader. I wasn't making much money, but I was gaining a lot more than financial revenue. I had worked on more than a dozen books by then, and become close to a great number of authors and other Booktrope staff. Quitting, or not being a part of Booktrope at that time, was the farthest thing from my mind. I still thought about starting up my own business, but I was being kept busy working for my BT authors. 

The first week of April, I handed over my finished manuscript for Dead Beat Dates & Deities to my beta readers. Book number four! I'd managed to write it in about three months, (wrist injury and all) and I was really excited about it. Once it was in my readers' hands, I took on two more proofreading jobs for Booktrope; Freedom's Treasure by author A.K. Lawrence, and Boys, Dogs & Chaos by Stephanie Kepke. I'd worked with both of these remarkable authors before, and jumped into these projects with enthusiasm. I had just finished work for A.K. Lawrence, and was halfway through Stephanie's manuscript when I saw the announcement on Facebook that Booktrope was closing up shop. That bit of news came on April 30th. It was a Friday, and at the end of the business day when it was revealed.

The first thing I felt was surprise. I wasn't involved, nor did I have any knowledge about the inner workings of Booktrope. I was just happily working with my authors, reading and editing and doing what I love to do. I wasn't sure how the team concept was working, or how successful it was proving to be. I knew I wasn't making much money from it, but I had no idea how the health of the company as a whole was faring. Apparently, not so well. 

It was a really rough weekend. I read countless posts on Facebook from my fellow Tropers, and so many of them were heartbroken and devastated. I do what I always do ... I stayed positive. I was there for them as much as I could be. They were looking at the reality of having their books vanish from Amazon in another four weeks. They were looking at having to self publish, or to find another publisher who would take them and their books on. They were looking at the daunting task of trying to be marketing gurus, managers, layout designers and editors as well as authors, or trying to come up with the money to hire others to provide the services they felt uncomfortable performing on their own. They also had to figure out the legalities of everything. We all sign contracts when a team forms and the process of publishing a book gets underway. Each one of the team members receives a certain percentage ... and those contracts are good for a five year time span. Now those authors were faced with the thought of paying future royalties, buying their covers back from the designers and cutting their way through a bunch of red tape. 

My position was different than theirs. I had just celebrated the cover reveal for Dead Beat Dates & Deities six days before ... and was anticipating a big two-day book launch three weeks later. I'm sure now that I look back on it, that I wasn't really thinking about how the end of Booktrope was going to affect me. I was really thinking about all of my authors, and those other members of the company who I'd grown fond of and close to. I became a co-admin for a new FB group called The Book Lounge in an effort to support and keep morale up, and I absolved every single one of my authors any responsibility for further royalties.

That weekend was also a very productive one. That editing and proofreading business I said I wanted to start? Well, I did it. By Sunday, Wing Family Editing had been born, and it was up and running on May 1st with four jobs in the first week.

 

As the month of May progressed, I kept busy with homeschooling, the cover reveal, and then the huge release party my insanely wonderful PA, Samantha organized and hosted for me. It wasn't until last week, after deciding I should log onto my profile to pull any necessary files before June 1st and the total shutdown of Booktrope, did the reality of it all hit me. I looked at my grid of projects and there they were ... every one of the sixteen books that I'd worked on, listed one by one next to all of their beautiful covers. That's when I got sad. That's when I cried and mourned the end of a wonderful part of the last fourteen months of my life.

The end of Booktrope gave me the kick in the pants I needed to get Wing Family Editing up and running. (It goes to show what you can accomplish in two days when you really set your mind to it.) I'm happy about that. I'm also incredibly grateful for the experience I got while working for the company ... but most of all, I'm grateful that I got the opportunity to meet and work with and get to know an amazing group of fellow authors who became my friends. Some of them became very good friends, and I will treasure them always. I'd say I gained a whole lot more than I lost.

June 1st means I am now officially self-employed. (Deep, cleansing breath. I'm feeling pretty good about this!) It also marks the end of my self allowed writing break. The official launch date for Dead Beat Dates & Deities was May 21 & 22nd. Break time is over. It's time to jump head first into book number two. Brides, Beasts & Baklava, here I come!



 

Character Inspiration

Hey, all! I didn't post last week because I was revving up for my two day long book release for Dead Beat Dates & Deities. I will be posting about that sometime this weekend, but first I was want to write my post for #LifeBooksWriting.

Character inspiration ... well, now ... a writer's mind is a messy thing. At least mine is. I think that, for me, each one of the four books I've published has started out with one, maybe two characters that have lived in my brain for a while. The rest of the characters are developed to fit around them.

My debut novel, The Color of Thunder, started with Faith Linsey. She's six years old when the story opens, and it progresses for more than thirty years. Faith is not me, but she's pieces of me. I was not alive in 1946, which is the time frame in which the story begins. I have never lived in Jackson, Mississippi, nor have I ever experienced any real, personal racial issues in my life. My father was not a Baptist minister, either. Far from it. I won't go into detail about him, (at least not in this post) but know he was much closer to hell than he ever was to heaven. While they did not have the same profession, my dad and Jacob do have a lot of similarities, and his character was based largely on the man I knew throughout my childhood. He was always right, no matter what, and he enforced his rules and way of thinking through verbal, and sometimes physical, abuse. As for Hope ... well, Hope is special to me ... but I'm not even sure that I can explain why. Perhaps she is the sister I always wish I had, (I'm an only child) and she has the spunk and tenacity I lacked while growing up.

The idea for Alabama Skye was sparked by my grandmother. I called her Mimi, and she inspired the character of Sarah, the matriarch of the Gannon family. Sarah was always at the center of this book for me. She is suffering from Alzheimer's, which is the disease that ultimately took Mimi's life, and much of the story is about Greer, the granddaughter who loves her dearly. (Perhaps there are some pieces of me in Greer, as well.) Cheney McGillivray, also a main character in the story, hails from the Isle of Skye. She was also inspired by Mimi ... or better stated, Mimi's love of Scotland. 

When I wrote Alabama Skye, it was meant to be a stand alone novel. When I published it, I had no plans to visit Kelby, Alabama or Portree on the Isle of Skye again. The book, however, received such a positive reaction, and I was asked many times when the Gannon family was coming back for a sequel. The interest in these characters excited me, and I began thinking about how I could continue the story.

I was happy to bring Greer back ... and even more excited about writing Cheney's character again. (She's one of my personal favorites.) But what I kept hearing about was that readers wanted to know more about Noah Wilson, Greer's lifelong best friend. I love Noah. Again ... she's a lot of things I'm not and wish I was. She was a lot of fun to write in A Skye Full of Stars, and because Cheney is such a colorful, wonderful character, (who doesn't like to write dialect?) I enjoyed coming up with a background for her. I did a lot of research for this book, most of it Scottish. That was Mimi again, and I learned a lot about a land she was so intrigued by.

That brings me to Dead Beat Dates & Deities. Wow. I'm still on an emotional high with this book. It went live exactly two weeks ago today, and the response I've gotten from it has blown me away. It is currently my baby, and I smile every time I think about it. This book has made me so unbelievably happy ... and yes, a lot of that has to do with the characters. Where the inspiration came from for this unseemly group, however, is more of a mystery to me than the rest. Maybe other authors do this ... I'd like to think that writers insert themselves into all of their work somehow ... or maybe they don't and I'm an oddball. It's probably the latter, but that right there ... that's Frances Reed, the main character in DBD&D. So, there you go ... there's a bit of me in her, too. She's successful and kind. She has a crazy family, but they love her and she loves them back. She's got a supportive best friend and a good job. She loves food ... all kinds of food, and coffee. She loves to take bubble baths and sleep in on Saturdays. I can relate to this character ... but she isn't me. As for Archer ... well ... you'll have to read the book to figure him out. There was definitely inspiration for his character. 

Inspiration is a funny thing. Sometimes I can pinpoint exactly where certain characters come from. Other times, I have no idea. I'm just glad they show up at all ... and feel really lucky when they turn into people I come to love and enjoy.

 

My bookshelf/Newest reads

It's Friday, again! That means another blog post for #LifeBooksWriting!

I absolutely love to read. I always have. My mom read to me as a child, as did my grandmother, Mimi, and I remember one of my most favorite places in all the world when I was younger was the library in my elementary school. I read the Nancy Drew and Trixie Belden series'. I read Danielle Steel, even though I was probably a little young for them at the time. When I got older, I loved Sidney Sheldon and V.C. Andrews. Then I got into Dean Koontz, and Stephen King.

When I was a freshman in high school, just like so many other freshmen in high schools all over the country, I was introduced to Harper Lee's wonderful To Kill a Mockingbird. That, after all these years, is still my all time favorite book. Whenever my life goes pear shaped, that's what I pick up. It helps ... every single time.

I was on a Patricia Cornwell kick for a long time, and I really liked John Sanford. Perhaps my favorite genre is Southern Lit; authors like Karen White, Sarah Addison Allen, Sandra Brown and  Loraine Despres. I've got a lot of James Lee Burke's novels, who is my most favorite author in the history of forever. He writes Southern Lit ... sometimes. He's got a twenty-book series that I absolutely love based in Iberia Parish, Louisiana. Dave Robicheaux, the main character in Burke's series, is so real to me. He reminds me of my biological dad. I can't explain why that's a good thing ... just know I'd happily read any one of the Robicheaux novels 100 times and still never tire of it.

My shelves are filled with all sorts of books ... autobiographies, how-to's, (I'll eventually teach myself how to knit, you just wait and see!) travel books and educational texts. I love books. I love them all.

Newest reads? Well, I'm usually reading a few books at once. I just finished proofreading a wonderful new book called Fortune's Treasure by author A.K. Lawrence. I would include a link, but it is in the process of being republished. I did an author spotlight on this author not too long ago. If you're interested in learning more about her, please click here.

I also had the chance to read a new crime thriller novel by indie powerhouse S.L. Shelton called Hedged. It's in the process of being published, but if you're interested in reading an amazing spy/thriller series, I highly recommend his Scott Wolfe series. Be careful, though ... his books are a little like potato chips. It's hard to read just one.

Another one of my most recent reads has been Billy Purgatory: I Am the Devil Bird by Jesse James Freeman. I'm only about halfway through it, but I'm thoroughly intrigued by the story. Fortunately for me, he's got a second book in the Billy Purgatory series. I like knowing there's more to read from author's I enjoy.

Did I mention that I love to read? Yeah ... I thought so. Thank god for books. They have always been my happy place.

My writing room

For some time now, I've been thinking that I'd really like to write regularly here on my blog. When my friend and fellow author, Jennifer Sivec introduced this challenge to me, I decided to jump in. This was organized by author Sophia Valentine. 

So, here goes week number one ...

My writing room. Well ... I'm one of the few people around (at least that I know of) that works on a desk top. I had a lap top for a long time, and then my writing room was wherever I wanted it to be. I'll admit, though, I didn't cart it around much. I'm old school in that I carry a notebook and half a dozen pens around with me in my bag, and if an idea strikes, I write longhand. 

Notes for A Skye Full of Stars

Notes for Dead Beat Dates & Deities

I even take notes longhand when I'm reading a book I plan to review.

I've had a dedicated writing room in every place we've lived. In several houses, a couple different states ... even in two different countries. I'm a homeschooling mom, as well, so my writing room is also my teaching room. I write in whatever time I have, be it during a forty-five minute class period where the kids are on their own, or while I'm waiting for a lasagna to bake.

My office space in North Carolina

Same desk in a different country. Here's my office space in Germany.

When we moved back to Colorado about two and a half years ago, I settled for an office downstairs, but the placement of my office didn't work for teaching. I moved upstairs to a spare room. I liked it just fine, except that said room is covered in horse wallpaper. Now, I like horses as much as the next person. Truly, I do, but this was a little too much horse for me. As you can tell by the rest of this post, I tend to take photos of my writing rooms. I don't have any of my 'horse room'.

I then moved my office one room over. There's wallpaper in there, too, (our house was built in 1970, and the previous owners really, really loved wallpaper) but this pattern was a bit more understated. Flowers and swirls ... still not what I would choose for the walls, but not as distracting as a field full of horses.

I quite liked this room, and was happy here for some time. 

Horses are great, but I'm more of a giraffe kind of girl.

I mentioned that our house was built in 1970. I moved my office again, this time back to the basement, (although not in the same place as it had been before) when we began remodeling our master bedroom. This relocation happened when we moved our bedroom furniture into the room that was my office. I took pictures of my writing room then, too.

I've been using this desk for a great many years.

I've moved again, just recently. Now the remodel is taking place in our basement, alongside the continuing remodel in the master bedroom. The kids and I are currently at the dining room table. It's not ideal, but it works. Yep. You guessed it. I have a photo.

I'm in the middle, book ended by both kids.

So, I've had many, many writing rooms. (Five different ones in just this house alone.) Where would I like my writing room to be?

Who knows? Maybe someday it will be. God knows relocating won't be a problem. I'm a pro.

 

A little taste of Dead Beat Dates & Deities

Hello, readers!

Well, Dead Beat Dates & Deities is written! My beta readers have had it since April 7th. I've heard back from almost all of them, and I've gotten a lot of positive feedback. I'll start working on my final edits May 1st when I have all the readers' notes back. I thought you all might like a little sneak peek before the official release on May 21st. 

I had a great cover reveal on Facebook yesterday. I had more than 200 guests! I was amazed! I have some of the best readers in the world. I'm very excited about this cover, and now that it's been officially revealed, I'm going to post it here because I love sharing it.

Click to enlarge

Isn't Eros beautiful?!?! This is what the front cover will look like for the eBook:

Now one more thing before I hand over the first chapter of Dead Beat Dates & Deities. Here is the book trailer I unveiled yesterday at the cover reveal: 

Okay, here it is ... chapter one. Please leave me a comment, let me know what you think. Thanks for reading!

Dead Beat Dates

&

Deities

Goddess of Tornado Alley Series

BOOK ONE

J.C. Wing

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Dead Beat Dates & Deities – Goddess of Tornado Alley Series Book One

©2016 by Jennifer C. Wing. All Rights Reserved.

1

“You’ve got to be kidding with this,” Frank muttered as she scrawled her signature across the bottom of the lengthy receipt. “Eighty bucks, and for what?” The pen rolled close to the edge of the table. Frank didn’t reach for it to put it back in the sticky, alcohol covered folder that still held her Visa. Instead, she shoved both the receipt and the credit card into her bag and scooted awkwardly across the booth. She glanced over her shoulder and blew out a sigh of relief when she didn’t spot Ben anywhere between the enormous potted plant near the restrooms and their table. She decided to get out while the getting was good.

Her legs didn’t engage quite as quickly as she would have liked them to and she stared down at them in irritation. The feet she saw were undoubtedly familiar, but the black Gianvito Rossi pumps wrapped around them were brand spanking new. The sight of the shoes briefly took the edge off of her annoyance. For a few seconds they distracted her from the catastrophic state of her love life, and this evening in particular where she’d just endured a real stinker of a date at the Habanero Hotspot. The restaurant was what the town of Sparrow had to offer in Mexican cuisine. It wasn’t fancy, but it was convenient considering it was situated in the busiest part of Pleasant Valley Mall. Frank’s meal had been mediocre at best. The whole experience had left her with a moderate buzz from three margaritas and a blazing case of heartburn. She smiled at her feet. At least she still had the shoes.

Frank wore her collection of dates like a string of unfashionable pearls draped around her neck. The necklace had grown longer and uglier throughout the eleven years since her high school graduation. Each man that asked her out held such promise at first. At least that’s what Frank liked to tell herself once things went all pear shaped at each date’s disastrous conclusion. There had been lawyers, businessmen, web designers and even a couple of doctors thrown into the mix. She’d dated a veterinarian, a horticulturist and a museum curator. There had been a Channel Three weather forecaster who stuttered terribly unless he was talking about air streams, Ball lightning or sustained winds. She’d had to stop watching Channel Three news after that. If it was going to snow, someone else could tell her about it.

Try as she might, and she had tried, it was hard to forget the guy who drank four martinis’ before admitting to Frank that he’d been a member of Alcoholics Anonymous for seven years. It turned out that he believed the group to be nothing more than a well-organized cult, but there was always people dropping in and out of meetings making it a great place to meet women. Frank was fairly certain she’d seen and heard it all, so when Ben had informed her halfway through their meal at the Hotspot that he’d forgotten his wallet, she’d simply slumped against the back of the red vinyl covered booth in silent defeat. A truly good date would be the only thing at this point to get Frank’s attention, and that had happened, well … never.

Frank reached up and tucked a frizzing strand of dark brown hair behind her ear as she walked across the mall’s main corridor. A glance at her phone informed her that it was not quite eight. The stores lined up on both sides of her were brightly lit and enjoying a booming rush of after holiday business. She moved quickly, occasionally glancing behind her to make sure Ben hadn’t returned from the bathroom. It would be just like him to decide he’d like some ice cream from the food court. No Ben in sight. So far so good.

The combination of the four inch heels on her new Italian shoes and the drinks she’d downed at dinner made the journey to the other end of the mall somewhat difficult. She found it fortuitous that Cupid’s Closet stood halfway between where she was standing and the exit of the mall. It might be best to wait a bit before climbing behind the wheel of her Jeep Liberty, she reasoned. Shopping for a half an hour would be a great way to clear her head. Besides, it was lingerie! What girl couldn’t use a few new pairs of panties? It just so happened that she’d received an email just this afternoon. Cupid’s Closet was having a big sale on their Aphrodite Ultra Sleek push up bras. She sighed when she looked down at her bust line and noticed the less than plentiful rise of cleavage that peeked out of her scoop neck sweater. It had already been an expensive trip to the mall. At least if she came home at the end of it with a bright purple bag filled with silky unmentionables she would have something worthwhile to show for it.

The atmosphere changed as soon as Frank was three feet inside the store. The décor was done in various shades of purple. Instead of the popular, upbeat tunes playing over the speakers in the mall proper, the little boutique was filled with a classical mix of strings and piano. The air smelled of perfumed lotions and flames danced upon the wicks of colorful candles. She could hear the bubbling of a stream further in. She snorted to herself when she realized it wasn’t a stream at all but a fountain at the far end of the store.

A white stone figure surrounded by a large, round pool stood among rows of neatly hung push up bras. Frank set off to find one, or maybe five, in her size. So intent was she on the lingerie that she failed to see either the wrinkle in the carpet below her feet or the middle-aged woman studying the price tags on the stack of boy shorts and demi-bras she held in her long, manicured fingers. Frank’s heel caught on the carpet. The rest of her body bumped hard into the woman who issued a loud gasp of surprise as Frank fell, her arms wind-milling around her. Bras and panties flew up in the air like confetti, and the bubbling sound of the fountain grew louder as she stumbled forward. Her body performed a swan dive, her legs bent at the knees and splayed in two different directions. One of her shoes flew clean off her foot landing seconds before she did in the pool of shimmering water.

The pain was sharp when it came, not in the middle but to the right side of her forehead. It was powerful enough to make her skull feel as though it was splitting into two unequal halves. She felt the cold splash as her body crumpled behind her head and fell into the water. There was a stillness, an unexpected lull where there was no music or noise of the fountain. It was utterly tranquil until Frank realized she wasn’t breathing. She pushed herself up to a sitting position and opened her mouth wide, dragging great breaths of watery air into her lungs.

“My goddess, you’re an embarrassment.”

Frank spluttered and coughed feeling the sting of water inside her nasal passages. Her head throbbed and a reasonable explanation as to why she was soaking wet from head to toe eluded her.

“Just look at you.”

She reached up to push sodden strands of hair from her eyes and realized she was in a tub. She had a marvelous bath tub in her townhouse. It was a wide oval, sunken and jetted. She owned just about every bath salt and bubbly concoction ever made, and spent a great deal of time in the watery haven after long days at the office. Wait, she thought to herself. This water was cold and it smelled funny, not at all like the flower and rain scented potions she liked to use.

“You’re a mess,” the voice chided. “I’d venture to guess that you are always a mess, but you’re even more so now. It’s fortunate for me that there are so many other mortals in your world nearly as messy as you that don’t belong to me.”

Frank couldn’t hear everything the voice was saying because she was coughing the water out of her lungs with a loud ferocity that nearly drowned it out.

“No doubt you’ll need a medic,” the voice continued. “You cut your head right open, and on my scallop shell, too. It’s not the nicest of statues, but definitely not the worst. I do believe you chipped it. Look, right there. You did. You chipped it.”

“What?” Frank’s voice was loud as she rubbed the water from her eyes, smearing the mascara she wore into dark smudges on her pale skin. When she looked around all she could see was a haze of purple light and the stream of water that bubbled over the lip of the statue. Maybe it was a trick of the light, or perhaps it was because she had wiped the contacts out of her eyes, but Frank was almost certain that the statue in the middle of the fountain was speaking to her. As unbelievable as it seemed, she could have sworn that the ivory sculpted woman was looking down at her with a disapproving scowl on her pretty and perfect face.