tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14123664276992773052024-03-13T13:03:11.588-07:00Books By Jennifer Johnson, Romance AuthorBest Selling Romance Author Jennifer JohnsonJennifer Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07478509572702754984noreply@blogger.comBlogger232125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1412366427699277305.post-39281096786022438652014-02-26T09:56:00.004-08:002014-02-26T09:57:58.535-08:00This is a Totally Random Picture....<br />
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Jennifer Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07478509572702754984noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1412366427699277305.post-46085049234109224752013-02-16T11:13:00.001-08:002013-02-16T11:13:32.320-08:00Books....Not just for dinner anymore.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipJO5pUOMhemf7WPL_KCOsoyJctTc6OdZ0q7oWdkecpwaoNSiZ1Re7TSAD9hAZAwWLgNnoVqiyScJQL0LRAvT37fVyJhmYE6_U-wRXvmusyyEOyXXR-X80TlxDmtPDno6CX9QrKxuclGY/s1600/READING.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipJO5pUOMhemf7WPL_KCOsoyJctTc6OdZ0q7oWdkecpwaoNSiZ1Re7TSAD9hAZAwWLgNnoVqiyScJQL0LRAvT37fVyJhmYE6_U-wRXvmusyyEOyXXR-X80TlxDmtPDno6CX9QrKxuclGY/s320/READING.jpg" /></a>Jennifer Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07478509572702754984noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1412366427699277305.post-85246470680239155202011-06-14T19:27:00.001-07:002011-06-14T19:27:55.046-07:00In the mean time...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilEG8L2X9iF9gy7p4GIVInxr0cOMZriejqAvjCYl7MerfjdnZKTCDXdUHfS2hwVh34vwTvtVwWA3h-R4YlrC1-JufUjQ1NkMpwP_EjYBwXc3qJjUTxW6u2WZ2flmgUXWAuj8kaOSfdpuIn/s1600/ddd_ebook_750.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 207px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilEG8L2X9iF9gy7p4GIVInxr0cOMZriejqAvjCYl7MerfjdnZKTCDXdUHfS2hwVh34vwTvtVwWA3h-R4YlrC1-JufUjQ1NkMpwP_EjYBwXc3qJjUTxW6u2WZ2flmgUXWAuj8kaOSfdpuIn/s320/ddd_ebook_750.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5618071361061303154" /></a><br /><br />Wow. Only six days until Double Dog Dare's release. My editor is giving me all sorts of warm fuzzies about what a great story it is-love to hear that! I am blessed to be associated with three publishers.<br /><br />My first was The Wild Rose Press. They gave me my first break by publishing my first two romances. Last week their web site crashed, and so they had a lot of frantic headaches getting it back up and running. Have you read my two books from The Wild Rose Press? They are still available. Click <a href="http://tinyurl.com/3jnpl9q">HERE</a> to go to my author page there. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2gShX9zYpJxS0yRiIvQv7CJskjAXf3OFyz4mvGw3Hbcv5YuDXWnAcaMzdfr5pgJ6gnZ57-yraf9EqN2PFrgehi8rKnf_gRBVUx70X9QJl-vvS4Nh_i-WiW1KacbB01eybfCZ2is8xXpuz/s1600/the+clergy+affair.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2gShX9zYpJxS0yRiIvQv7CJskjAXf3OFyz4mvGw3Hbcv5YuDXWnAcaMzdfr5pgJ6gnZ57-yraf9EqN2PFrgehi8rKnf_gRBVUx70X9QJl-vvS4Nh_i-WiW1KacbB01eybfCZ2is8xXpuz/s320/the+clergy+affair.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5618072630788713378" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5PPlhFFb-iKY94-usEiUl0FDlC9d7pQAEhu9Uodk74ooRmZBOZHypxxCjWZTUivva_KZ9SY5RbuWUc98UveQ4vOHCkl4N_kItnzq8kHbguQ_til367F0j58X5fg_999YL1tMxavKMLnA-/s1600/the+jinx.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5PPlhFFb-iKY94-usEiUl0FDlC9d7pQAEhu9Uodk74ooRmZBOZHypxxCjWZTUivva_KZ9SY5RbuWUc98UveQ4vOHCkl4N_kItnzq8kHbguQ_til367F0j58X5fg_999YL1tMxavKMLnA-/s320/the+jinx.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5618072634344264690" /></a><br /><br />My next Publisher was Resplendence and this book called Holding Out for a Hero. It's a little darker, a little spicier than any of my others. Still. I love this story. I enjoyed the challenge of writing in first person and the twists that the story took. As of now, it is still only available digitally which means you can read it on your computer as a PDF download or if you have a Kindle or Nook you can go through those websites to buy it. Here's the <a href="http://www.resplendencepublishing.com/m8/197-200-101-463-1--holding-out-for-a-hero-by-jennifer-johnson.html">LINK</a> to Holding Out's page at Resplendence. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE0NJRBGEbctYTr1epKHiv_TApMgj258phMhxMRvc85mjdrwTMVipAfovsovQgTiTvgpcVWRCz7A5_kW70i9MYXsOir9Prw9pEtCKOA9CyzbogH3r4IAfw3bBzIgRwZBle44o0X_4kIa49/s1600/holding+out+for+a+hero.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 206px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE0NJRBGEbctYTr1epKHiv_TApMgj258phMhxMRvc85mjdrwTMVipAfovsovQgTiTvgpcVWRCz7A5_kW70i9MYXsOir9Prw9pEtCKOA9CyzbogH3r4IAfw3bBzIgRwZBle44o0X_4kIa49/s320/holding+out+for+a+hero.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5618072906984499554" /></a><br /><br />Presently I'm with Turquoise Morning Press. Turquoise Morning has allowed me to try my hand at short stories as part of the publisher's anthology line. I really love my two stories I've written. One story is part of the <a href="http://www.turquoisemorningpress.com/2009/10/something-spooky-this-way-comes.html">Halloween anthology</a>; the other is in the <a href="http://astore.amazon.com/turqmorn-20/detail/1935817477">Valentine Anthology</a>. <br /><br />And, of course <span style="font-style:italic;"><a href="http://astore.amazon.com/turqmorn-20/detail/1935817167">Rescue Me</a></span> is my full length contemporary romance from Turquoise Morning. <br /><br />So, this is what the author Jennifer Johnson has written and published. If you haven't read any of these books yet, well, now you have something to do before <span style="font-style:italic;">Double Dog Dare </span>comes out in six days. <br /><br />Have I mentioned <span style="font-style:italic;">Double Dog Dare</span> is going to be released in SIX DAYS!!<br /><br />Yes.Jennifer Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07478509572702754984noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1412366427699277305.post-28148372066320179202011-05-10T10:09:00.001-07:002011-05-10T10:09:48.532-07:00Why Alice In Wonderland?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGb_QUJ217xfKQhRFJd7RWMrnUv-mHp4hIB88Ox3fSDrpWEaLANX2LuspjJPPgk5lAh1TDLxXBIdOkQ5iDpX3msnqfsiUQDBPbgW1LcEYn2PIjTRdhRp-TxgkMaj3g5XOWR_zmBSWqKPqs/s1600/Alice%2527s_Abenteuer_im_Wunderland_Carroll_pic_03.jpeg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 317px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGb_QUJ217xfKQhRFJd7RWMrnUv-mHp4hIB88Ox3fSDrpWEaLANX2LuspjJPPgk5lAh1TDLxXBIdOkQ5iDpX3msnqfsiUQDBPbgW1LcEYn2PIjTRdhRp-TxgkMaj3g5XOWR_zmBSWqKPqs/s320/Alice%2527s_Abenteuer_im_Wunderland_Carroll_pic_03.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5605062789630353954" border="0" /></a><br /><br />As the release of <span style="font-style: italic;">Double Dog Dare</span> approaches, I thought it would be fun to share with you some of the inspiration behind the story.<br /><br />I've explained in<a href="http://jennfrancesca.blogspot.com/2011/05/go-ask-alice.html"> an earlier post</a> how I placed Cheris, the heroine, in an art gala opening in which she samples cake and punch. These are part of the exhibit from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. They have the tags from the story which read <span style="font-style: italic;">Eat Me</span> and <span style="font-style: italic;">Drink Me</span>. If you know the story, as most of us do, then you know when Alice eats and drinks, she shrinks and grows. Alice uses the concoctions to get the key to fit into the door in the sort of holding place-the foyer-to her adventure.<br /><br />Now to tell you the truth, I didn't really like the story of Alice's adventures because it was so insanely crazy. However, it's got some of the best dialogue in any children's story I've ever read. It was this book which gave me the idea of beginning each chapter with a quote from the children's books which would be featured in the art gala opening.<br /><br />Although as readers, we only witness the Alice in Wonderland Exhibit, there are hints of the other exhibits as well-not only in the story, but in the quotations at the beginning of each chapter.<br /><br />But for Alice, here are a few wonderful words I used:<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> <span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);">I wonder if I've been changed in the night? Let me think. Was I the same when I got up this morning? I almost think I can remember feeling a little different. But if I'm not the same, the next question is 'Who in the world am I?' Ah, that's the great puzzle! </span></span><br /><br />or<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 0, 0);">Curiouser and Curiouser</span><br /><br />or<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 0, 0);">We're all mad here.</span><br /><br />or how about this one which is actually from <span style="font-style: italic;">The Looking Glass</span>?<br /><br /><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:trackmoves/> <w:trackformatting/> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:donotpromoteqf/> <w:lidthemeother>EN-US</w:LidThemeOther> <w:lidthemeasian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian> <w:lidthemecomplexscript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> 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mso-style-priority:99; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} </style> <![endif]--><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 0, 0);">It’s a poor sort of memory that only works backward.</span><br /><br /><br />The quotes all lend themselves to a story-any story-about being in an uncertain place outside of your comfort zone. And if the story is good, then the character blossoms while in that uncertain place and changes for the better.<br /><br />Here's a little excerpt from <span style="font-style: italic;">Double Dog Dare</span> in which Cheris, the heroine, at the Wonderland exhibit meets Geoff, the hero.<br /><br /><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:trackmoves/> <w:trackformatting/> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:donotpromoteqf/> <w:lidthemeother>EN-US</w:LidThemeOther> <w:lidthemeasian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian> <w:lidthemecomplexscript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> <w:splitpgbreakandparamark/> <w:dontvertaligncellwithsp/> 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mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} </style> <![endif]--> <p class="MsoNormal">Dressed in a Tuxedo in front of the completely white exhibit, he seemed to belong within the display. His nearly black hair, a little too long, curled at his neck, and he wore small gold rimmed glasses. Cheris glanced around the room to find they were alone. Was this why he thought it permissible to deface the art? </p> <p class="MsoNormal">“You’re not supposed to eat that, are you? That’s part of the exhibit,” Cheris advised.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“We’re part of the exhibit.” His eyes glittered in amusement from behind the clear lenses. He held out the cake to her. “Take a bite.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“I’m not eating after you. I don’t even know you.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Afraid you’ll catch cooties? I’ve had all my shots.” </p> <p class="MsoNormal">“There is no vaccination against lice, and you don’t catch them by sharing forks.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“How astute of you. Come here.” He motioned for her to follow him to a row of mirrors. “That’s why there are no characters because we are the characters. See?” He walked to a mirror next to the wall, and Cheris followed. Though their faces were theirs, their bodies had morphed. The man was now The Mad Hatter, and Cheris the Chesire Cat. She smiled in delight.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Keep your smile, and watch what happens,” he advised.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“What?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Show that gorgeous grin and look into the mirror.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Uncertain, Cheris glanced at her companion, so tall, next to her.<span style=""> </span>He nodded toward the glass surface, and Cheris turned her eyes back toward it watching in amazement as the fluffy stripped cat disappeared, then Cheris’ own face until only her mouth remained in the darkened mirror. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Oh.” She breathed the word out.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Indeed.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“How does it do that?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“I think the appropriate response is <i>Curiouser and Curiouser</i>.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Attraction for the stranger tugged at Cheris. He seemed familiar to her though she didn’t know why. “Have we met?”</p><p class="MsoNormal">"No, we haven't." He met her gaze in the next set of mirrors. "It appears that I am now the Queen, and you are the Mock Turtle. Can we switch? It's so unbecoming to want to decapitate everybody."</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">And so begins the Adventure for Cheris and Geoff.<br /></p> <span style="font-family: ";font-size:11pt;";"></span>Jennifer Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07478509572702754984noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1412366427699277305.post-90712559866262330462010-11-28T12:38:00.001-08:002010-11-28T12:38:46.677-08:00On being thankful<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM4k6vKfcgy_xydCDLAAozXJzCYbA_20G5axf8sP1lchQ9aTsst4ZrNWpTffXkhjEwIka3qG6NNVhnkiUkCFN5YpJtwmEJ6z7-pe0S-XJhZHJAD0WfirOpEPmxqqsnSGOMY0fuRXo5Wtrl/s1600/083wedFootprint.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 243px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM4k6vKfcgy_xydCDLAAozXJzCYbA_20G5axf8sP1lchQ9aTsst4ZrNWpTffXkhjEwIka3qG6NNVhnkiUkCFN5YpJtwmEJ6z7-pe0S-XJhZHJAD0WfirOpEPmxqqsnSGOMY0fuRXo5Wtrl/s320/083wedFootprint.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544663755162593154" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 153);">I spent Thanksgiving at my parents' new house in Alabama. For years--decades even--they had talked about buying some land in the country and building a house there. I never thought it would happen until in little bits and pieces it did. First the land was purchased, then some animals, then a house. </span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-fwEcmFs5Xs1PKPEP7f58gwM1D_D75sp-6dJ_fEGqGhoJtnLyHdc0Ehr2sXuGKM6JluOgMnaJ2TKYJb5wPU9a5ZZ-0sBuy0DM_jfeMT8RXorzFT668PYP8KxafSTfwgud6ZawcdXXUMyb/s1600/002.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 222px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-fwEcmFs5Xs1PKPEP7f58gwM1D_D75sp-6dJ_fEGqGhoJtnLyHdc0Ehr2sXuGKM6JluOgMnaJ2TKYJb5wPU9a5ZZ-0sBuy0DM_jfeMT8RXorzFT668PYP8KxafSTfwgud6ZawcdXXUMyb/s320/002.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544688125998255314" border="0" /></a><br />Here're Mom and Dad on Christmas morning probably about sixteen years ago. See my dad checking out the Crayola Crayon activity set. I'm pretty sure it wasn't his.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 153);">So what home is has changed. It's not the one on Woodley Road anymore though little treasures from that place pop up at the new location. This time the treasures were one of my spiral notebooks with a few of my unfinished stories inside written in my own hand and a photo album from high school. The pictures are of me as a size five. I remember the size because of the black lace dress I wore to prom with Jody Pounds. Jody and I were never boyfriend/girlfriend though I think the hormonal tension sizzled at times. But I did go to my senior prom with him, and it was the most fun I ever had at a school dance. I think this was because we weren't worried about relationship drama; we just wanted to have a good time. </span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 153);">Back to the new location for home. There's no grass there. Only red dirt. And on rainy days, there is red mud. It gets tracked into the new house with its white tiled floor. I wonder if the parents regret not putting in red bricked floors so that the footprints wouldn't be so prominent. No matter. My daughter had a great time building a burnt sienna Mudtopia outside and using Grandma's Swiffer mop on the inside. Man, that kid had fun. </span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 153);">I thought I'd be sad about not going to the house that I had called home since I was five. Lots of things happened in that house--some bad, some good. Many experiences which shaped me into the woman I am now. I kissed my first boy there--Lane Cook. It was on a dare, and it didn't spoil our friendship. I heard Santa use our bathroom there and received the Barbie motor home (the ultimate Christmas for me, I think). I ate chicken casserole and chocolate bread pudding there. It was there that I learned my parents were divorcing and that my grandmother had died. I smoked my only cigarettes (only a few, and I didn't inhale) there, I read Harlequins under the covers with a flashlight until I finished them even if it was 2 in the morning (hence the flashlight under the covers so I wouldn't get in trouble)there, I wrote my first stories there. </span><br /><br />Lots of memories revolve around Christmas. One of our rituals for many years was the Christmas picture. Most of them taken at the house on Woodley Road. It was hilarious and torturous because somebody always goofed up the picture, so we had to have lots of them taken to insure the perfect one could be sent out via Christmas cards. A few I remember we didn't take at the house were taken in downtown Montgomery, one next to a fountain as children, another as adults after a hellacious fight had erupted. But we sucked it up and got the picture made. Mom finally gave up on us after decades of trying to make us do right in the pictures. It was just too difficult getting us all in one place and cooperative. Thankfully, my great nephew stars in the latest Christmas greetings solo. He doesn't seem to mind. The picture below was taken about 12 years ago in the front yard at Woodley Road. I believe this was my brother's truck. Yep. True Alabama style. Christmas picture in short sleeves with all of us posed on the bed of a Ford Truck. Or maybe it was a Dodge. The important feature is the tailgate is down.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWiGH66rSnuzfOYjsOJhkG5_MEUowvusToIhJ-uPnk_7galRV-9aRtzcQ5hbS5LHa_nZSvkmyx2X2GVpNWllPzCguITwhsEA27_GdtAcBfBEhY3TPXfhgW03C1t9eagtcoZ5Xss3ARsYMT/s1600/001.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 190px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWiGH66rSnuzfOYjsOJhkG5_MEUowvusToIhJ-uPnk_7galRV-9aRtzcQ5hbS5LHa_nZSvkmyx2X2GVpNWllPzCguITwhsEA27_GdtAcBfBEhY3TPXfhgW03C1t9eagtcoZ5Xss3ARsYMT/s320/001.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544688111342400706" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 153);">And it was at Woodley Road on another Christmas that I brought the boy home I would marry. I did not know when I brought him home that he was The One though I think my family did. He stayed all day. He wouldn't leave. The sky darkened as evening approached.. My family invited him to look at Christmas lights. They welcomed him and hugged him. Ick. I didn't really know him. I wasn't ready for hugging, but what could I do? My sister--the Daisy Duke look-alike--hugged him, so I felt obligated to do it too since he was sort of my guest. </span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 153);">In spite of that day--or maybe because of it--he called me the week after and asked to come over to where I was attending college and spend MLK day with me. We played Rummicube in my dorm room. We really did play the game. It isn't a metaphor for sex as my BF Jenn accused me of at the time. One thing about Jenn, if you insist indignantly that it really was Rummicube, that just makes her grin and nod her head knowingly even more.</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz4rrQhPF9sFZNxroCAxuzhFrpoTR1IW0xGgvEMpJkJ5BS26Una0xoMnYbvzXKQ02j9oeg9kSH3zQrC4Id4FZYc4H742abUc59yv1j9L5mnNTjkm4oVCunZf8Z5JgGMaXazPHhKi0mmlGm/s1600/004.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 217px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz4rrQhPF9sFZNxroCAxuzhFrpoTR1IW0xGgvEMpJkJ5BS26Una0xoMnYbvzXKQ02j9oeg9kSH3zQrC4Id4FZYc4H742abUc59yv1j9L5mnNTjkm4oVCunZf8Z5JgGMaXazPHhKi0mmlGm/s320/004.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544688134451235298" border="0" /></a><br />"Daisy Duke" and me. Daisy is the one holding the pillow up to cover our faces. Not only did she look good in shorts, but she has a sense of humor too. We are in the wood paneled 'den' which was the gathering place. One whole wall was devoted to family pictures.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLaEnn0uhsY2xZS-XNl3x8ZPu731MHmKF-toJsRyt8i987D0M5nNW24HXLS-1rEQWb1WjFl1eY0G_XHTSPeKHNcS2Qno7y3MPoRVLHkjTES1T78tGOC2PidO5KILJSzV1rfVEOAb3x17w5/s1600/003.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 230px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLaEnn0uhsY2xZS-XNl3x8ZPu731MHmKF-toJsRyt8i987D0M5nNW24HXLS-1rEQWb1WjFl1eY0G_XHTSPeKHNcS2Qno7y3MPoRVLHkjTES1T78tGOC2PidO5KILJSzV1rfVEOAb3x17w5/s320/003.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544688132925247410" border="0" /></a><br />Here is Daisy's daughter who now attends University of Alabama. Look for her photoshopped Auburn shirt amidst the sea of red at the recent Alabama/Auburn game.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);"></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 153);">The move is appropriate, I think, as my parents are working on their retirement plan, and the new house is part of it. There are still some kinks to work out, like leveling out and grassing over the landscape, but that will come, as the new house has, in increments. And, you know, that's kind of like how life is, too. It happens in bits at a time, as all those moments did on Woodley Road. </span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 153);">And some of them are good though some are not, but you're blessed if you can look at the overall picture, and declare, "Yes. I'm thankful." </span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);">So long, Woodley Road. Thanks for the memories.</span>Jennifer Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07478509572702754984noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1412366427699277305.post-34155868741975213162010-09-23T05:39:00.000-07:002010-09-23T05:40:04.514-07:00And now for something completely different (again)I had to put <span style="font-style:italic;">again</span> on the title above because I'm pretty sure I've already used that most beloved line from Monty Python so...<br /><br />Maybe yesterday's post was a downer, but as my friend Leona says you gotta roll with it, and hear the good news, people. <br /><br />1. They got it all.<br />2. They are cutting some more just to be sure.<br />3. I have ready access to very good medical care (even if I have to wait a few hours to be in the same room as that medical care).<br />4. My life is good enough that I'm not ready to check out yet.<br />5. They caught it early.<br />6. The Frankenstein scar is covered by clothes. All right? <br /><br />So, let us not dwell on the melanoma. It is what it is, and all of those other cliches.<br /><br />As my girl Julian of Norwich is quoted as saying, "All shall be well, and all shall be well, and in all manner of things it shall be well."<br /><br />And now for the completely different something which is fantabulous.<br /><br />I'M NUMBER ONE! I'M NUMBER ONE! I'M NUMBER ONE!<br /><br />And it'll probably only be true for, like, thirty seconds so HURRY! Click <a href="http://turquoisemorningpressblog.blogspot.com/">HERE</a> to go to Turquoise Morning Press' blog and look on the left (that is your left. No. the LEFT side. The OTHER left. Do the finger thumb thing. Right. OOF! I meant correct). Anyway, on the left side of the screen you'll see the bestsellers, and at this moment <span style="font-style:italic;">Rescue Me</span> is the number one bestseller of all time on Turquoise Morning Press' history of the world!<br /><br />Percy? Would you help me celebrate with your funky, happy dance?<br /><br /><object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/0W3ZXQqJWH8?fs=1&hl=en_US"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/0W3ZXQqJWH8?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object>Jennifer Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07478509572702754984noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1412366427699277305.post-45394151052154474352010-09-22T11:45:00.000-07:002010-09-22T11:46:08.489-07:00Perspective<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB6PgVapYWld6WxJ4Ep8srqpVpkkBE_AhcPio1oegE8vQgPhpnC1jh93pt6VZdjdjWfYCufCDdadMnb4_uNO5YbojwkvKd1oAshgM0iT16bvayBJuEcbOnRa8GsuK2yPowScH18UKADj_-/s1600/ain'tlifegrand.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB6PgVapYWld6WxJ4Ep8srqpVpkkBE_AhcPio1oegE8vQgPhpnC1jh93pt6VZdjdjWfYCufCDdadMnb4_uNO5YbojwkvKd1oAshgM0iT16bvayBJuEcbOnRa8GsuK2yPowScH18UKADj_-/s320/ain'tlifegrand.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519718969218321298" /></a><br /><br /><br />Turning forty gave me the opportunity to reflect on my life. I nodded, declared it <span style="font-style:italic;">good</span>, and dyed my hair red. <br /><br />Birthdays are good opportunities to take stock and act, if necessary.<br /><br />But, you know, other opportunities arise as well to do that stock taking. <br /><br />Like, for instance, the words<span style="font-style:italic;"> melanoma</span> and <span style="font-style:italic;">cancerous</span> which were spoken to me last Thursday. Also, the sentence repeated several times, "We got it all" ironically closely associated with the phrase, "more surgery as a preventative".<br /><br />They gave me a book to make me feel better about it which had phrases in it like "quality of life" and "five years", which was supposed to make me feel better, I suppose. But it didn't. Maybe I should do a rewrite for them? Hmmm. That's an idea. <br /><br />And probably if I hadn't had trouble reading the notes on a music sheet the night before without the dreaded "cheaters" this enlightening conversation with the doctor, I wouldn't have been thinking so much of words like <span style="font-style:italic;">old</span> or <span style="font-style:italic;">young</span> (as in I'm too young for this).<br /><br />Or the phrase <span style="font-style:italic;">And so it begins. </span>The beginning of the downhill slope toward death where little pieces of me are cut away and sent to Cincinnati where it is determined is it okay or is it the <span style="font-style:italic;">C word</span>. <br /><br />Am I okay with dying? Sure.<br /><br />Am I okay with dying right now? Well, no. I've still got some stuff I want to do, people I want to hang out with and meet, places to go. You get the idea. <br /><br />So, one day when the answer comes back from Cincinnati I might decide differently, but right now. I will have the margins cut on as a preventative. I will let the doctor do a "full body". I will get a full length mirror and bring it home to check for changes in my skin. I will try to find a sunscreen which smells like something other than sunscreen. <br /><br />And I will not let that jerk who cut me off at the intersection steal my joy. Or seethe in fury because the surgeon still has eleven patients to see ahead of me and my appointment is in five minutes. Will I stay in the crowded waiting room? Not today. But I will make another appointment for another day when I can be first in line. I will smile when I request the other appointment. I will be nice and sweet. After all, maybe they just worked me in. Maybe they worked those 11 people in. Maybe the doctor had to cut on someone unexpectedly so the log is backed up. It matters not. Not really. <br /><br />Because, you know, we really do only get this one life. And I plan on having fun, being useful, and loving the hell out of it until it's only a gooey mass of sweet goodness (non-fattening, of course, but delectable).Jennifer Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07478509572702754984noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1412366427699277305.post-40674042634347215292010-07-19T03:35:00.001-07:002010-07-19T03:35:25.831-07:00Which kind are you?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTJewXfv7G-KEZC1FeTU4VqKZ2Db0I2YhxDbL7CLJp3Vwro2LhBDpqABuN5c6Q-WLhcmfhw3r_sd01mQd4y0cxV5fJb117GYepF4UQrMwzICpIKJy3j8eomI2Xl6vDv_PR6CeQkNJQf_Ck/s1600/roller-coasterfaces.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTJewXfv7G-KEZC1FeTU4VqKZ2Db0I2YhxDbL7CLJp3Vwro2LhBDpqABuN5c6Q-WLhcmfhw3r_sd01mQd4y0cxV5fJb117GYepF4UQrMwzICpIKJy3j8eomI2Xl6vDv_PR6CeQkNJQf_Ck/s320/roller-coasterfaces.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495557323164501186" /></a><br />Consider the picture above. Very demonstrative, is it not, of the kind of folks these people in the front are. <br /><br />The poor girl, terror on her face, and yet she is watching death as it quickly approaches in the steep drop down the track. The woman beside her-maybe Mom or Grandmom-is also less than thrilled to be on the thrill ride. But this is how I know she is a close relation. Even with eyes tightly closed, see the arm thrown across the girl's body in the instinctive protective stance? <br /><br />Well, God bless 'em for getting on the thing even though obviously they aren't the roller coaster kind of people. And yet, just behind them a woman wears a hat as she smiled at her young companion. The hat is intriguing. Not only is she taking a fashion risk, but she is breaking one of the cardinal rules of roller coaster rides. <br /><br />She has not removed unsecured objects from her person thereby risking its loss on the ride.<br /><br />Obviously, she is truly the thrill seeker, though one of those understated kind. Note the arms are not high over her head like the happy folks in the very back. You ever do the hand in the air thing? Talk about thrilling. It makes you come off of the seat. <br /><br />I love roller coasters. One of my early memories is throwing up in the Six Flags bathroom after riding the Scream Machine one too many times. At least, I think it was the Scream Machine that brings forth the happy memory as well as...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiua_jcYXRfKU3VO6LkslJ7Bw3RBJQ1PiEgisifq8oMymUa_kJqdufEuup1N1rk9EZv_gkfhXMKyDTg3WJGo4XYYtSedv0Nu4MPPPK5f4O2A7PHNzvhtJB6Zn3II14KlWGxDfvjoWyj8ela/s1600/SixFlagsandHappyCow052.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiua_jcYXRfKU3VO6LkslJ7Bw3RBJQ1PiEgisifq8oMymUa_kJqdufEuup1N1rk9EZv_gkfhXMKyDTg3WJGo4XYYtSedv0Nu4MPPPK5f4O2A7PHNzvhtJB6Zn3II14KlWGxDfvjoWyj8ela/s320/SixFlagsandHappyCow052.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495559264639827106" /></a><br /><br />Ah, here we are. The Scream Machine, that white painted wooden structure in Georgia. Still one of my favorites though I haven't been barred into one of its seats in over a decade.<br /><br />I did get to ride one roller coaster while at an amusement park recently. <br /><br />One.<br /><br />No one else with me were roller coaster people. How sad! So, I sat on a big rock in the kiddie section while people rode Lucky Ducky and some lame ride I can't even remember the name of. And that wasn't all. We did this one, too...<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLq41faR0ULSsiIr6HN2iAZgyzAuPs24_mEGcgHL-IpndnTQotbmNmEViWUcM0IOCF4TdCmPn6Vw0FxWgidPyZbS5UEdN9XMYy72TXrdsOkpfgtmZ3HSKoxhayz_IY4u1-McQsJselDM_0/s1600/Head_in_the_Clouds_by_SynthTwins-1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 222px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLq41faR0ULSsiIr6HN2iAZgyzAuPs24_mEGcgHL-IpndnTQotbmNmEViWUcM0IOCF4TdCmPn6Vw0FxWgidPyZbS5UEdN9XMYy72TXrdsOkpfgtmZ3HSKoxhayz_IY4u1-McQsJselDM_0/s320/Head_in_the_Clouds_by_SynthTwins-1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495557319235356066" /></a><br /><br />It was not fast. It did not squeal as it curved crazily downhill. It was a sedate circular experience. And my stomach rolled uneasily with every rotation. Obviously, I am not a ferris wheel kind of gal.Jennifer Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07478509572702754984noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1412366427699277305.post-71804186976028866792010-07-16T12:10:00.001-07:002010-07-16T12:10:56.038-07:00My life as a proverb<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJYl8wcAzV2oRihEKgdjWh_znkwC0EQb0i5hFDuJJU9C4FsbXizUqsKjGyY2Z2ZAP81TlsZ9hfroeuakUCpBCSCX28X1uJS64lWOJodFTuOAQ3mzvVotEO5DsgXf3Phfdk2z87-izMd2b3/s1600/DSCN0405.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJYl8wcAzV2oRihEKgdjWh_znkwC0EQb0i5hFDuJJU9C4FsbXizUqsKjGyY2Z2ZAP81TlsZ9hfroeuakUCpBCSCX28X1uJS64lWOJodFTuOAQ3mzvVotEO5DsgXf3Phfdk2z87-izMd2b3/s320/DSCN0405.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494578465390309906" /></a><br />It is said that a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush. I think this means that which is out of reach is always more valuable. That treasure which you can see but not touch, that's the one you most yearn for. Unless you've had some time to sit down and really think things through, and you realize how great it is to be content with where you are and how you are.<br /><br />That's not to say that you enjoy life in the mudpit if that is the rut that you find yourself in, but that you've worked hard, you've played hard, and you've served hard. And all of those places are pretty good spaces to occupy when they all are part of the journey.<br /><br />So, above is the picture of my hand in a parakeet place. This was a place I didn't plan to be at, but I had the opportunity to be there, and why not? And it turned out to be a pretty cool place.<br /><br />You can make a plan for your life, and that's good because then you don't drift or waste your time and talents. But you can also be open enough to veer off the path at times, and those times are pretty amazing, too. And then you have not one bird in your grasp, not two beyond your reach, but more in your presence-not to be captured, but to be enjoyed in the midst of the beauty. <br /><br />I had a wonderful week with three, no, four generations of my kin. Blessings rained down, even drenched us, with wet socked feet, trudging on black topped pavement or sun-scorched skin seeking refreshment either in shade or water. I hope, hope, hope these are the days those two newer generations will look back on, smile, and say, "Remember the time when we...?"Jennifer Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07478509572702754984noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1412366427699277305.post-15060905990379978812010-07-07T05:29:00.001-07:002010-07-07T05:29:51.930-07:00Waving<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL37iMhbLRk1IfqmLM6rYJg_XWHLatJ5QvjX_507rSDjnh73zQkgVrxpyW9gbX4g25tHCiKzbPFYniXoUuXfqkCXjPF8IsyOoC1wo9VZfQZy9kZEuvFnUckdMoqgei_gwwUNVPJ_DRBOg0/s1600/sunsetwave.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 226px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL37iMhbLRk1IfqmLM6rYJg_XWHLatJ5QvjX_507rSDjnh73zQkgVrxpyW9gbX4g25tHCiKzbPFYniXoUuXfqkCXjPF8IsyOoC1wo9VZfQZy9kZEuvFnUckdMoqgei_gwwUNVPJ_DRBOg0/s320/sunsetwave.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490776110584134002" /></a><br /><br />When John was imprisoned on the island of Patmos, he had this grand vision-a Revelation you could call it-of justice and setting things right. One piece of this vision was a paradise in which there was no sea. He wasn't a big fan of the sea because it was the sea which separated him from his homeland and all of his loved ones. <br /><br />At least on Gilligan's Island, those seven people had each other to befriend or to fight with. And each person on that microcosm of society represented an archetype, a different personality. We know the person we could count on to make the coconut cream pies, the person who would whack the other person with his hat, that person who often needed to be whacked because he was such an idiot, the Robinson Crusoe figure who never figured out the irony of all of his money not being able to save him, the tragic starlet who never hooked up with the smart guy though I thought that was her best choice, and, of course, the Stepford wife. <br /><br />I think that's all of them.<br /><br />So I'm considering an island and how 'they' have said no man is one. And what it might feel like to be stranded on purpose by myself. How long until I transition from alone to lonely? Would I be like Robinson Crusoe and become king of a hut full of dumb animals, bitter and resentful of the tarnished and useless coins I pulled from the sinking ship? Might I bloody a volleyball and have arguments with it because there's no Gilligan to bully? Or will I recognize the grace of that Subtle Presence who rode with me out there?Jennifer Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07478509572702754984noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1412366427699277305.post-35746522238830031712010-06-28T04:26:00.001-07:002010-06-28T04:26:36.589-07:00Welcome, Rebecca SavageToday I welcome fellow author Rebecca Savage to <span style="font-style: italic;">This is the Life</span>. Recently, Rebecca had a terrible thing happen to her, and she wanted to share it with you so you won't have to go through what she has.<br /><br />Take it away, Rebecca.<br /><br /><img src="file:///C:/Users/Jennifer/AppData/Local/Temp/moz-screenshot.png" alt="" />I Got Hacked: Public Announcement:<br /><br />Please, never send money to anyone, not even a loved one, without hearing their voice. I got my yahoo id hacked and some creep talked my aunt out of $1400. He lied really well. He'd read all my messages to her and knew I'd been at her house. Horrible creatures, these hackers and virus makers. I pretty much hate them. I hope this has never happened to you but if it has, join me in the effort to inform to public about the terrible possibilities.<br />thanks<br /><br />Contest: Comment here and on my webpage contact form and be entered to win free pdf of Rebecca Savage book of your choice ;)<br /><br /><a href="http://rebeccasavage.com/home">http://rebeccasavage.com</a><br /><br /><br />Ciao for now!<br /><br /><br />Rebecca's latest release is:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDTJ6x360QZROiJNRDa2y-q79Civwz4oi-eQEmsfJVHcgDGOmj_lTAf4TzlLrx2btNJxVfpLcAu6KMgqJOJZp8AjSFd-MEBP9XFBHsrFHsb7NuBxfXuGrIbsjzBOIhOqHcchTl4H3hko7y/s1600/guardmybody.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 111px; height: 166px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDTJ6x360QZROiJNRDa2y-q79Civwz4oi-eQEmsfJVHcgDGOmj_lTAf4TzlLrx2btNJxVfpLcAu6KMgqJOJZp8AjSFd-MEBP9XFBHsrFHsb7NuBxfXuGrIbsjzBOIhOqHcchTl4H3hko7y/s320/guardmybody.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5486165966961221698" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Here is the blurb:<br /><br />A hard core CIA covert ops expert like Nash Kincaid takes everything seriously, especially his mission to retrieve classified information from his contact, take it to the right people, and stop the deaths of thousands of children at the hands of home-grown terrorists.<br />A librarian with a wild side could throw a ringer into his plans, but Ayden Devlin takes most things seriously, too, even when she decides to live out the lives of the characters in the books she reads by helping her sister Leigh, a spy for the CIA. She lets Leigh insert classified information into her mouth where there’s a missing tooth, so she can safely transport the info to Nash.<br />Nash and Ayden meet in a biker bar, and a hit man tries to kill Ayden. Nash throws his body in the path of a bullet to save her. A bullet grazes Ayden’s head and knocks her out cold. When she comes to, she and her rescuer have to establish trust. They don’t know each other, and the mission has gone awry. It takes time to convince each other of their respective honesty and identity.<br />It takes no time at all for them to realize they’re hot for each other, and not much more time to realize it’s more than heat. Love blooms, stoked by building passion, the flames rising higher with each new dangerous encounter.<br />Will they survive to share their love and lives?<br /><br />You can read the excerpt and learn how to purchase the download of <span style="font-style: italic;">Guard My Body</span> at Carnal Desires Publishing <a href="http://www.carnaldesirespublishing.com/single.php?ISBN=1-55404-726-9">HERE</a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn48Hchyphenhyphenkc3pH36_qsNCIRryOaTwo-9zsZ5S_cZJpyHvuT7qL-qBWlGEHCp9WpQ6jQOxQMYZuDM5rQeGPtIRvaxYPhQVieD0oS4bjzj86lO6ohIDWOs-5NbH1ni5zX7WstuqHvyR_g3F1n/s1600/cover_Combustion.14181627.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 207px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn48Hchyphenhyphenkc3pH36_qsNCIRryOaTwo-9zsZ5S_cZJpyHvuT7qL-qBWlGEHCp9WpQ6jQOxQMYZuDM5rQeGPtIRvaxYPhQVieD0oS4bjzj86lO6ohIDWOs-5NbH1ni5zX7WstuqHvyR_g3F1n/s320/cover_Combustion.14181627.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5486167036495840050" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Sherri’s heart is a frozen block of ice after what her spouse has done to her. She needs a place of rest, a safe haven, away from the long armed reach of her soon-to-be-ex- husband. He abused her, and she escaped. Now he wants her back, and he’s stalking her, threatening her, promising she’ll not live if she doesn’t return to him. He’s wealthy and powerful, and he’ll accept no betrayal from someone who thinks she can leave him unscathed. She changes her identity and goes in search of a new home, and a brighter future. She finds one, in a rental unit owned by John.<br /><br />John is a fireman. He’s seen people in Sherri’s position before. He despises men who abuse women. He lost a woman to just such a man. He’ll not let anyone hurt Sherri. She’s too beautiful, and he’s falling too hard, too fast. He vows to protect her to the end. <br /><br />Like what you read? Click <a href="http://champagne.vstore.ca/product_info.php///pName/combustion">HERE</a> for the buy link at Champagne Books.<br /><br />And remember, if you comment here and on <a href="http://rebeccasavage.com/contact_form_where_to_find_me__contest">Rebecca's webpage contact form,</a> you have a chance to win a free download of one of her books.<br /><br />Thanks, Rebecca.Jennifer Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07478509572702754984noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1412366427699277305.post-61266229391974464522009-11-29T15:21:00.000-08:002009-11-29T15:21:55.646-08:00The Better than Pudding Mama<a href='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigUsEtUIRUaSC0gBa7Kdy9H6MgY4kJTpctqRvplK7doqymgM6gTR85HxOsMLd-FsfWUFXdDgHvEkWvVf4B7zaIjqT6kEHI0dxUjCMqApny-V5NlUI-pGd1rhZRhMTOfA1AHFiYAwiplTc/s1600/moreCalvinAdrianna08+023.jpg'><img src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigUsEtUIRUaSC0gBa7Kdy9H6MgY4kJTpctqRvplK7doqymgM6gTR85HxOsMLd-FsfWUFXdDgHvEkWvVf4B7zaIjqT6kEHI0dxUjCMqApny-V5NlUI-pGd1rhZRhMTOfA1AHFiYAwiplTc/s320/moreCalvinAdrianna08+023.jpg' border='0' alt=''style='clear:both;float:left; margin:0px 10px 10px 0;' /></a> <div style='clear:both; text-align:LEFT'><a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'><img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /></a></div>Jennifer Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07478509572702754984noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1412366427699277305.post-36106772654045882872009-08-22T14:35:00.000-07:002009-08-23T16:19:05.214-07:00Critique SessionToday Christine Withholn from the Book Cents Literary Agency visited with our local chapter to offer critiques of the first three pages of any person brave enough to read their work out loud. <br /><br />Was IT fun!!<br /><br />We heard all sorts of stories, and even got into some debate as to which genre certain stories were. What did I learn? <br /><br />If one wants to tell a love story between a man and a woman who are not married, it is called "romance". If one wants to tell a love story between a man and woman who ARE married, it is called "women's fiction".<br /><br />Do you see the irony of this? That love between a husband and wife is known as WOMEN'S FICTION???!!!! <br /><br />Okay. I just thought I needed to point that out to you and the world and the sad commentary that is on a) marriage and b) women's fiction. The "b" is a joke, by the way. <br /><br />We met; we ate; we critiqued.<br /><br />We got kicked out by Hannah Montana. Apparently, the library thought showing a tweenie idol movie was more important than any of us in the group having a publishable manuscript. The very idea!!!<br /><br />So, we retired to the patio. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFktY8LnS-dgyYVV5Wt96wc70Dd3IqukVjDqaeKcrvXJMrDusRyv8PYHIP3rQBG4nDRt5ssV4onHB4sK86OlnbVab34jRPQKs85Hy5qaR8Oggd2wlQ9bEzyaThYUwSGMRXanz0bWNqNifa/s1600-h/ChristineVisit.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFktY8LnS-dgyYVV5Wt96wc70Dd3IqukVjDqaeKcrvXJMrDusRyv8PYHIP3rQBG4nDRt5ssV4onHB4sK86OlnbVab34jRPQKs85Hy5qaR8Oggd2wlQ9bEzyaThYUwSGMRXanz0bWNqNifa/s320/ChristineVisit.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372905201604404802" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Here we are retired on the patio. Note those who came prepared with sunglasses.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbEaOxj3vEUnluixwEIaQXrAqXiyb1_6IlksAqAkrAG0mWHkwAxv6SbFacOKVFDSWrXuiYleEFjB8nt1kspP-5vMoSC-bYzWb-9vaPY2GQ4P3ekHnBAf8n6Xk4nZVZQCp245brrsdWi6Ub/s1600-h/IMGChristine&Me.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbEaOxj3vEUnluixwEIaQXrAqXiyb1_6IlksAqAkrAG0mWHkwAxv6SbFacOKVFDSWrXuiYleEFjB8nt1kspP-5vMoSC-bYzWb-9vaPY2GQ4P3ekHnBAf8n6Xk4nZVZQCp245brrsdWi6Ub/s320/IMGChristine&Me.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372905193411503874" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Here I am whispering to Christine after she has informed me my hero needs to meet my heroine earlier. Otherwise, it's women's fiction. And, apparently there's no romance in that (according to the industry).<br /><br />I so beg do differ with the industry. Which may very well be why you won't be able to buy my awesome stories in any and every bookstore near you (unless you define that bookstore as the one you get to via the internet). <br /><br />At least,you won't be able to buy my stories in those bookstores YET.Jennifer Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07478509572702754984noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1412366427699277305.post-91963409579622839732009-08-20T05:18:00.000-07:002009-08-23T16:19:05.228-07:00And Now for Something Completely DifferentSo Monty Python would use to transition from one bit to the next. Do you call it a bit? Clip? Act? <br /><br />ERRRRR.....<br /><br />And Now for Something Completely Different.<br /><br />My friend and author colleague Magdalena Scott posted a chicken salad recipe on her blog which looked rather interesting, so as we've gotten into the habit of doing, we discussed it back and forth in the comment section, and here's the link if you want to see <a href="http://magdalenascott.blogspot.com/2009/08/hot-chicken-salad.html">Magdalena's HOT chicken salad recipe</a>.<br /><br />Magdalena's new book called <a href="http://www.resplendencepublishing.com/m8_view_item.html?m8:item=120-200-101-420-4">Where Her Heart Is</a>, published by Resplendence Publishing has been doing quite well on the Fictionwise website rating higher than some of the giants in the romance industry for sales. Way to go, Magdalena!! What I like about this book. <br /><br />1. It is sweet, and you wouldn't be embarrassed for anyone to know you read it. <br />2. Magdalena did an awesome job capturing the essence of LizBeth Ann, a toddler in the story. <br />3. Mike builds the dream house. LOVE THIS. I love a man who will make my dream his reality.<br />4. Mike has a work ethic. ALSO love this. Hard work is very appealing to me. I think that is my puritan roots showing through.<br />5. Betsy. This is the main character's name. I noticed Magdalena uses "old fashioned" names, and I've thought about this. I don't know if it was intentional or not, but the value of it is that you know this is going to be a clean read. Very smart, Magdalena. It also lends itself to being "any person", that these are people you may have even met.<br />6. World Created. Come on in. This story takes place in Legend, TN. Legend is a setting for several romance novels not only by Magdalena, but by several other Resplendence authors which include Maddie James, Jan Scarbrough, and Janet Eaves. They have a whole series called <a href="http://www.legendtennessee.com/">"The Ladies of Legend".</a>. I own several of the Legend books and find it an enjoyable place to go.<br /><br />And now for something completely different.<br />Sort of.<br />My OWN chicken Salad recipe<br /><br />There's this place in town called Jack's South Ashland Market. They have awesome chicken salad. It is at 1920 29th Street close to the health department. Drive there. Tell them you want some chicken salad. You will have to give them money in exchange for the chicken salad. <br />Enjoy.<br /><br />What intrigues me about Jack's is the bulk of their business is providing food for the tugboats going back and forth on the Ohio and Big Sandy River, maybe even Little Sandy, too. I met this woman last year named Sally. I saw her just yesterday at a local restaurant. She was a cook on one of the boats. When I spoke to her, she completely didn't remember me, and expressed surprise that I remembered her name. I told her that her vocation had impressed me so much, I couldn't help but remember her. Alas, she is now a farmer and no longer spends weeks at a time going up and down the river cooking for boatmen. Still. I'd love to interview Sally and maybe use her cook job as the profession of a romantic heroine. <br /><br />That was definitely something completely different, wasn't it?<br /><br />And NOW for something completely different (and yet related to a much earlier topic). The Clergy Affair is still on the homepage at <a href="http://www.fictionwise.com/">Fictionwise</a>! I'm getting some sales there - #973 of over 11,000 romances overall. WOOOO HOOOO!!<br /><br />So many things completely different. Where Her Heart Is, Chicken Salad, Sally, and Fictionwise.<br /><br />And yet related.<br /><br />Wow.Jennifer Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07478509572702754984noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1412366427699277305.post-79140017413534401592009-08-19T05:37:00.000-07:002009-08-23T16:19:05.241-07:00See what Happens When I Don't Get Enough Sleep?Here's something kind of fun and stupid.<br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/jmQRmHgExV0&hl=en&fs=1&rel=0"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/jmQRmHgExV0&hl=en&fs=1&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br />I put the video at the very top because if you scroll down on my blog, my playlist will start, and I hated for the Dave song to have to compete with another song I wanted to tell you about. If the song does start up automatically, just go to the right and click the pause button on the playlist. I'd hate for you not to hear the "Dave Song."<br /><br />I've been told that the most common first name in the world is "Mohammed" and the most common last name in the world is "Lee". Ironically, I've never met anyone named "Mohammed Lee". Go figure. <br /><br />As a person with both a common first and last name, at times I have wished to have some really unusual name so that I would never have to be known in class as "Jennifer J." or "No. The OTHER Jennifer J." or....well...you probably get the picture. <br /><br /><br />Was I right about the Dave video? Fun and stupid? Let us hope the tune doesn't linger with you. <br /><br />Years ago I discovered that my name is actually the title of a song. It was sung by Mac Davis and a few other folks. It was written - if you can believe it - by Shel Silverstein. I actually found it on my playlist - cool.<br /><br />And while I was searching I even found an artist whose name is guess......Yep. Jennifer Johnson. Someone should start a club.Jennifer Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07478509572702754984noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1412366427699277305.post-3424458489240393272009-08-18T13:26:00.000-07:002009-08-23T16:19:05.257-07:00AWESOME!!!<span style="font-style:italic;">The Clergy Affair</span> is getting some great exposure just recently! Today it was the first book on the home page of Fictionwise!! That's right! Right up there with Dan Brown - well, in close proximity to Dan anyway.<br />Probably by the time you see this, it will have changed, but it is the very top on on the left right now - COOOOOLLLLL!!<br /><a href="http://www.fictionwise.com/">http://www.fictionwise.com/</a><br /><br />Yesterday I went to the library in South Point, Ohio to do a program and sign some books at the invitation of Christine, one of their librarians. Christine submitted a press release for the program to the Herald Dispatch. And - WOW - it was a great article!!<br /><br /><a href="http://www.herald-dispatch.com/news/ohio/x1562574643/No-Headline">http://www.herald-dispatch.com/news/ohio/x1562574643/No-Headline</a>Jennifer Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07478509572702754984noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1412366427699277305.post-80532503091588666772009-08-15T16:33:00.000-07:002009-08-23T16:19:05.274-07:00Same, but different<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGmJiJNuht1CY7ij5s_JSJOu4k20QGkvf8QsRY4CUjwtd2j3YQJdJovEpifIjElgekWh9g6PbfS8GGvooUAjFTLryOS25vt_-Ke2PS0wk9wIFPHtbcLrtUX2lmJL8QzeDon3CNtAGnm9HB/s1600-h/IMG_0846.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGmJiJNuht1CY7ij5s_JSJOu4k20QGkvf8QsRY4CUjwtd2j3YQJdJovEpifIjElgekWh9g6PbfS8GGvooUAjFTLryOS25vt_-Ke2PS0wk9wIFPHtbcLrtUX2lmJL8QzeDon3CNtAGnm9HB/s320/IMG_0846.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370338153151778882" /></a><br /><br />I had my second book signing last night at BJ's Books in Ashland. Why this picture? Well, it shows the shoes, first of all. And I can tell you that in the event, there were several "hits" - the shoes, the peanut butter fudge, and (I hope, I hope, I hope)<span style="font-style:italic;">The Clergy Affair</span>. <br /><br />The night was a bit different than the fist signing we had a couple of months ago. Different how? Well, Sheri, the owner of the bookstore, had moved furniture around a bit. Because of that people lingered. There were chairs so that folks could sit. It was nice!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimIa9kpf9-jwy47tA2TCUzj7qIT0VTHL1Xe9FrwsUBJ3nHZdPDXmmbr_2ZW8h6J3jhZHQWOSWVvIi7rF3xP3xgV_PDDN27E2GyDIzgxWttB_1nAbs0bSv0bSDVXHfZurQUVAiLCI3Tbjox/s1600-h/IMG_0833.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimIa9kpf9-jwy47tA2TCUzj7qIT0VTHL1Xe9FrwsUBJ3nHZdPDXmmbr_2ZW8h6J3jhZHQWOSWVvIi7rF3xP3xgV_PDDN27E2GyDIzgxWttB_1nAbs0bSv0bSDVXHfZurQUVAiLCI3Tbjox/s320/IMG_0833.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370341094583481586" /></a><br /><br />In a lot of ways, <span style="font-style:italic;">The Clergy Affair</span> was me coming to terms with being a romance author. Here is a woman named Deborah who is a little uncomfortable with being feminine and maybe even human. I picked the name "Deborah", by the way, because she was a Judge in the Old Testament, known for her wisdom and also the respect of the community. How will the church respond to realizing that the preacher has a love life? Though there are a few bumps, the biggest obstacle is Deborah herself. The church backs her up. I get that. I have lived that. <br /><br />I'll restrain myself from getting too sentimental. Let us suffice to say that in every created episode, God looked at the day's events and pronounced each "Good." You can read it in the Genesis account. Even though as a Presbyterian, I'm largely a Calvinist which is to say I believe we're completely depraved, I also have to say in many moments, I have experienced the goodness of people in their love and acceptance. I have been a recipient throughout my life of grace which I did not deserve. Not the least little bit. What if each of us lived in moments of gratitude? What if we realized that we didn't deserve what we're living, but we appreciated the goodness of it anyway? What if?Jennifer Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07478509572702754984noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1412366427699277305.post-22732062440939058242009-08-12T05:10:00.000-07:002009-08-23T16:19:05.286-07:00Back to SchoolIt is really loud there. And the teachers seem as excited as the children to be back. I surprise myself that I get weepy when this isn't the first first day of school for my kids. We went through this last year, but it still feels like letting go. <br /><br />Randy Pausch in his book <span style="font-style:italic;">The Last Lecture</span> talks about carrying a crayon around in his pocket. Every now and then he would pull it out and take a good whiff. I thought it was weird...until I tried it. There really is something distinctive about crayon wax that transports you back in time to childhood and school days. Randy was a black and white crayon kind of guy. And if you haven't read his little book, you should. I think I should warn you, though, he does die. Still. That's the point of the book - making what was left of his life really matter. Is it right to waste this one life, this only life we have being miserable and making everyone else around us miserable as well? Is that really how any of us want to be? Especially when we realize this really is the only life we get - on this earth, anyway. <br /><br />I know on some days it is SO MUCH easier said then done. But I get that when you realize you have a limited time to do something - whether it is live or ride one more ride at Six Flags or I don't know, eat only one more Little Debbie snack, wouldn't you be deliberate about your choice?<br /><br />Boy, is this turning into a macabre discussion. And if this were my last blog, I think I would go back to...<br /><br />Crayons.<br /><br />My favorites in the box were sea green and sky blue. They were the prettiest to me. The sea green reminded me of the truck my Aunt Willie Pearl used to drive. It was a big honkin' Ford truck. I fell out of the back of that truck one time and lived to lie about it. Well, I'm not sure I lied about it so much as some of my older cousins did because maybe we weren't supposed to be riding with the tail gate down. Or maybe it was okay to do it, as long as the runt cousin didn't get skinned up.<br /><br />I remember the pride I felt when I bought (in my twenties, mind you) a big box of 96 Crayola. They were so special. I let my oldest niece Jessica (who was maybe six at the time) color with them<br /><br />and she broke one.<br /><br />I pointed out to her, "You broke my crayon!" and with very little concern, she said, "Well, you have all these other ones."<br /><br />So, I think there was a lesson there in that conversation. <br /><br />Sometimes a crayon breaks. But when you have lots of others, it's no big deal. Not worth getting upset over. <br /><br />And it wasn't the sky blue or the sea green one, so I think she had a valid point. And although there were 95 other crayons, there was only that one time that she used them. Not because I didn't want her to, but because the opportunity never arose again. <br /><br />Go ahead. Take in the aroma of the crayon. It does remind you, doesn't it, of elementary school days? Did you have a favorite color?Jennifer Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07478509572702754984noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1412366427699277305.post-82669144338580908472009-08-10T05:32:00.000-07:002009-08-23T16:19:05.299-07:00Bats in my Belfry<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRcWrc57rYPCvqL5gx5bivgGr9lThaOUTb7ErTyaCD9fWNFVGZXTvchzytCbue6o358fjjUHazaH5QwKuFSyywzwZW5BsVhhyphenhyphenc4GoLfg9bFzEMqfgwc-JPf28ClAfwJ2ALEDq-w0kOgO6a/s1600-h/IMG_0819.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRcWrc57rYPCvqL5gx5bivgGr9lThaOUTb7ErTyaCD9fWNFVGZXTvchzytCbue6o358fjjUHazaH5QwKuFSyywzwZW5BsVhhyphenhyphenc4GoLfg9bFzEMqfgwc-JPf28ClAfwJ2ALEDq-w0kOgO6a/s320/IMG_0819.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368316631477789490" /></a><br />No. Actually the bat was in my transom. Do you know what a transom is? It's a small window above the door. It's found in hundred year old houses like the one I live in. Last night it was hot - like The Long Hot Summer kind of hot (the one with Paul Newman). My husband opened the transom and promptly left the room. I was in the parlor (yes, we DO call it the parlor) and saw the dark fluttering through the air -back and forth.<br /><br />"There's a bat in the house! There's a bat in the house!"<br /><br />Oh, my gosh. There is a BAT IN THE HOUSE!!!!<br /><br />Let me pause here to say I love bats because they eat bunches of mosquitoes (which I do not love). I've built bat houses. I've stayed out of caves to protect their habitat, but<br /><br />EEEEEEEEEKKKKK! THERE'S A BAT IN THE HOUSE!!!!<br /><br />Somehow the little guy had gotten into our transom, and when it was opened to let in some cooler evening air, well, here came the bat as well. After some tense moments, the bat was contained and taken outside where it was thrown in the air. Of course, it took off like a bat out of....er...like a bat recently released. Later I discovered a small tear in the screen where it meets the frame.<br /><br />Transoms are cool. Our transom lends character to our already cool (as in attitude, NOT temperature) house. My friend Mary wrote a scene in one of her stories in which a woman gets caught in a transom. She entered it in a contest and lost points because the judge didn't know what a transom was! <br /><br />We've had other adventures with our transom since we've lived here. I myself have never tried to use it as an entrance, but I have lowered a kid through it.Jennifer Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07478509572702754984noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1412366427699277305.post-45866248537761633612009-08-06T11:24:00.000-07:002009-08-23T16:19:05.308-07:00Mississippi MeanderingIn years past, I lived in Mississippi. I stepped in Mississippi mud. I knew the correct pronunciation of the state which is, in case you were wondering:<br />Mis'sippi. I drove across the Delta and watched cotton being harvested by a full and hovering-over-the-horizon moon, so big you could ride right into it.<br /><br />Good memories.<br /><br />Mississippi is one of those places where the setting IS the character. <br /><br />Recently, I had a voice in my head of a poem I heard years ago while driving in Oxford at Ole Miss where I did campus ministry. I googled that voice and found it was Beth Ann Fennelly, a poet and associate professor at Ole Miss. I told her I had remembered one of her poems I had once heard on a local radio station, and did she know the one I meant? She most definitely did. We arranged for me to buy a couple of her poetry books at Square Books in Oxford so she could sign them for me, and Square Books would ship them to me in Kentucky.<br /><br />I like Square Books because it is an independent bookstore, and the story goes that when John Grisham was just starting out, Square Books was about the only bookstore who would give him the time of day and space in their bookstore. As an author I really appreciate that. Square Books is on the corner in the actual square of Oxford, Mississippi. On another corner of the square, you can sit on the bench next to William Faulkner - well, a statue of him anyway. <br /><br />This morning I received my books and want to share with you one of Ms. Fennelly's poems. She is only one year younger than I am, so that may be why I recognize her voice so very well. I won't tell you which poem made me contact her, but the one that brought tears to my eyes and made me smile as well is called<br /><br />"Elegy for the Footie Pajamas"<br /><br />No snap between your legs,<br />for months. But how? When did I last<br />gnaw sausages cased in terry-cloth?<br />When did I last unsnap-snap-snap?<br />I've gone to the door and I've shouted.<br />I am missing some-ping. Hey, you,<br />in your big-girl pj's, don't you have <br />a little sister? You're giant,<br />lying down, musing on beanstalks.<br />What is Mommy doing? I am reading<br />in a disco. No, it's not a disco,<br />it's my office with your finger on the switch.<br />Two years lived under a strobe light-<br />when I look up, you're there,<br />then there and there. When I look up,<br />you've nailed the cha-cha, the fox-trot.<br />What is Mommy reading?<br />A book with pages torn out<br />by Kenny Mullins in grade four.<br />Kenny Mullins why do you do that I said<br />he said Because you're fat.<br />Twenty years later in Starbucks<br />Kenny Mullins says Sorry about the book<br />it was a joke! He says Ha-ha-ha!<br />He says Don't put me in a poem!<br />Now <em>he's</em> fat, and also bald. Yes,<br />now I say Ha-ha-ha. I don't like<br />myself like this. I am leaving <br />some-ping out. Like me. Do you? Tomorrow<br />you'll ask for the keys. Answer's no.<br />buttering me up, you say, Let's play,<br />Mommy, I be the snake, you be the dark.<br />Fast child of a fast mother,<br />it's been years but I haven't forgotten<br />being the dark. It comes right back. It's like<br />pushing someone off a training bike.<br /><br />It is from Beth Ann Fennelly's book called <em>Unmentionables</em>. <br /><br /> If you ask really nicely, I may let you see my signed copy.Jennifer Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07478509572702754984noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1412366427699277305.post-21099952026163549312009-08-04T05:33:00.000-07:002009-08-23T16:19:05.318-07:002+2=4Last night I received a call from a call from a desperate mother. She needed someone to watch her kids because she had a job interview she had just found out about. Frantic. That was her tone of voice. Was there any way I could help her out? <br /><br />Well, sure. She's a church member, so I thought I could consider it pastoral care. Any, really, what's two more? I was forgetting, of course, that the two more are 3 and 1. My kids are older, and therefore, a bit more self-sufficient. Still, they could pitch in, right? This works well for the three year old. The one year old just wants those pesky older kids out of his face. There is crying. Wow. I'm really out of practice here.<br /><br />Still.<br /><br />I was present at this baby's baptism. In fact, I did this baby's baptism. I, along with the gathered church, promised to nurture this child, to teach him about the love of Jesus Christ. I consider helping his mom out every once in a while part of his nurture. While we're hanging out, I'll bounce my sermon ideas off of him. I'm considering if him falling asleep during my homily means it is so soothing that it helped him sleep or it was so boring it helped him sleep.<br /><br />Uh oh. More crying. Gotta go.Jennifer Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07478509572702754984noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1412366427699277305.post-1129975889987286212009-08-01T10:10:00.000-07:002009-08-23T16:19:05.326-07:00So far, so good!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF1mLmhlZVKhuI68cicXW-BFYb3FNdiWab5uhfShUPx6YRvF55HEFbMT-b9ktKeYfT9sx4E8vQ98Pr76EvyRfpedxwS5f0WFNEuhzvN4GninaVQkYiEwcWsvO6yyimP5M7uwOK19KvQDvm/s1600-h/LeonaAndBook_s.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 130px; height: 119px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF1mLmhlZVKhuI68cicXW-BFYb3FNdiWab5uhfShUPx6YRvF55HEFbMT-b9ktKeYfT9sx4E8vQ98Pr76EvyRfpedxwS5f0WFNEuhzvN4GninaVQkYiEwcWsvO6yyimP5M7uwOK19KvQDvm/s320/LeonaAndBook_s.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365049581700018082" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />I'm getting great comments from people I know who are reading <span style="font-style: italic;">The Clergy Affair</span> - great news!<br /><br />And, The Clergy Affair is already showing up as a best seller in the Champagne Rose line at The Wild Rose Press. This means that people are purchasing it from Wild Rose's site - also great news!<br /><br />I peeked on Amazon to see how things were going and I'm getting some purchases there as well. <span style="font-style: italic;">The Jinx</span> has only one left in stock, so there will be more going to print, and also this at the bottom of <span style="font-style: italic;">The Clergy Affair</span>: <br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 51);">"Frequently Bought Together</span> <span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 51);">Customers buy this book with The Jinx by Jennifer Johnson</span>" <span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 51);"></span><br />That's right - multiple purchases!<br /><br />I suspect this is because my mom told me she ordered several copies of each one. Maybe I should give loved ones complimentary copies instead of making them pay with the rest of the world, but I figure over 90% of my book sales have been to people who knew me, so I'd be cutting into my royalties big time if I gave out free copies. And since I only get one complimentary copy from the publisher, I'd definitely be losing money if I had to buy as many copies as I had people who owned the book.<br /><br />That's right. I get only one free copy for myself. So, it isn't that I'm cheap - well, actually, I am pretty cheap, but I'm also paying for my copies, too. Except the one. <br /><br />If you are cheap as well, you might want to look into a digital download of a book. Digital downloads are inexpensive, and you can read the book on your computer, laptop, or one of those cute little electronic devices you may own already. Me? I am still trying to make my way out of the dark ages. I have been listening to an audiobook on a borrowed MP 3 player, and I have to say, that is pretty cool. However, the little ear phone thingies do not suit my dainty ears. Wonder if I could get a hold of some of those big honkin' ear phones from the 70's. Then all I would need was my knee high socks and my roller skates, and I'd be ready!Jennifer Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07478509572702754984noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1412366427699277305.post-45897627252069660032009-07-31T05:21:00.000-07:002009-08-23T16:19:05.338-07:00It's here!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWIMRveSvo-x9pLlo20wVeIZ3v6ZtKvmwk-gwlhH-Zwm6c-LpmVjR89OYRDrZZmleL1ZYAGxFeHumUmp1KWb4h2OLq0YQqo3yK3ti9E0L8f8EMiYHYQpg26069cAprA8j-gqTDBJDVxpXs/s1600-h/TheClergyAffaircov_w1811_120.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 80px; height: 120px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWIMRveSvo-x9pLlo20wVeIZ3v6ZtKvmwk-gwlhH-Zwm6c-LpmVjR89OYRDrZZmleL1ZYAGxFeHumUmp1KWb4h2OLq0YQqo3yK3ti9E0L8f8EMiYHYQpg26069cAprA8j-gqTDBJDVxpXs/s320/TheClergyAffaircov_w1811_120.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364598553917878882" /></a><br /><br />The release date for The Clergy Affair - how exciting! I'm on my way to deliver an autographed copy to a nice lady who had surgery this week. She liked The Jinx, and said she couldn't wait to read the next one. <br /><br />I figure it will give her something to do while she's recuperating. <br /><br />It's been raining here most of the time for two days now. It makes me uneasy for my friend, Cheri, who owns the book store. So, say prayers that we'll get only the rain we need and that Meade Station can stay dry.Jennifer Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07478509572702754984noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1412366427699277305.post-91073057362279460482009-07-30T05:26:00.000-07:002009-08-23T16:19:05.345-07:00Water, water everywhere....<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicA0rPvI6WIE20a2aVawHgn7MJWUoxJJiFMpQ4Oy8qSYRnP7mlocPTUHorx7_pV4CJb7EDxxq8IjWnJjXiXLZjNFHuNs6K4wOOsEKG6yHb62Aed6Wk9ge8Jb3VwlQuXBe3yYUEBCSs_inQ/s1600-h/flood.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 316px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicA0rPvI6WIE20a2aVawHgn7MJWUoxJJiFMpQ4Oy8qSYRnP7mlocPTUHorx7_pV4CJb7EDxxq8IjWnJjXiXLZjNFHuNs6K4wOOsEKG6yHb62Aed6Wk9ge8Jb3VwlQuXBe3yYUEBCSs_inQ/s320/flood.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364230047815691842" /></a><br />Tomorrow, the world premiere of <span style="font-style:italic;">The Clergy Affair</span> (although interestingly enough the print version is already available) was to be the occasion to celebrate and sign books at BJ's Discount Books. Unfortunately, BJ's flooded about two and a half weeks ago, so Cheri is working hard to get the bookstore back in good shape.<br /><br />We rescheduled the Celebration/Book signing for August 14th although I plan to be there for a little while tomorrow night in case any desperate reader can't wait two more weeks. Cheri's husband is in a band, and they're performing in Huntington tomorrow night, but I'll stay until the flood of customers is a trickle and Cheri kicks me out to go see her sweetie play.Jennifer Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07478509572702754984noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1412366427699277305.post-75116182286475740452009-07-28T16:44:00.000-07:002009-08-23T16:19:05.352-07:00Maybe this isn't a fluke.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjamqbK12KJR8r-1RjYKuoXmIT8X-8BMQnKkaWoz1g9I8yyztzukyj_6l865Z0f6hlVirNR4zLtiN6jd5fbOwLcRxyBsgQLBV_aQvTNgogMPqja59CFMJG0p6wAcAJ8_WW-ZdzY40ZTeenx/s1600-h/Fluke.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjamqbK12KJR8r-1RjYKuoXmIT8X-8BMQnKkaWoz1g9I8yyztzukyj_6l865Z0f6hlVirNR4zLtiN6jd5fbOwLcRxyBsgQLBV_aQvTNgogMPqja59CFMJG0p6wAcAJ8_WW-ZdzY40ZTeenx/s320/Fluke.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363663278193975650" /></a><br /><br />Was submitting my two manuscripts to Wild Rose Press, a fledgling and aggressive publisher, and consequently getting published a fluke? <br />Fluke can mean a stroke of luck, or it can mean the lobe of a whale's tail. For my purposes, I mean the former definition, although the latter makes for a better picture. <br /><br />Would I just be a very small blip on the publishing screen of....er...the world? I mean, my goal since a kid was to be published. I succeeded. And as happens a lot of times when we've dreamed and dreamed for something to happen, and then it finally becomes a reality, we, like Inigo Montoya (from the Princess Bride, one of my favorite movies) feel a little out of sorts. <br />Inigo has finally accomplished the goal he has had since HE was a child - avenging his father's death. He says to Westley, "You know, it's very strange -- I have been in the revenge business so long, now that it's over, I don't know what to do with the rest of my life."<br />And, oh, that wonderful, wise Westley replies, "Have you ever considered piracy? You'd make a wonderful Dread Pirate Roberts."<br /><br />Well, it isn't exactly like that for me. For one thing I'm not Mandy Pantinkin. And secondly, this goal of being published has always been the hobby. I wrote stories for fun and as a reward for getting school work done, and later on for getting work work done. And I did all the real life things while Inigo was just getting better at sword fighting. I went to college and seminary, got married, had children - all those real life kinds of wonderful things. <br /><br />And in the midst of it, something very unexpected and wonderful happened. While I was working on the dream of being published, the real life kind of thing took wings, too. But it took getting rejected by Silhouette - and the phone call from a dear friend - to make me realize it.<br /><br />I sent in <span style="font-style:italic;">The Jinx</span> and was rejected. When I called and told my friend Tara about it, she wasn't home, so I left a message - poured out my huge disappointment on her answering machine. Then I went on with my day. While I was out, she called me back and said, "You write for God." <br /><br />She said some other things, but that one sentence is what I remember. And I kept that message on my machine for months until the electricity blinked off and erased all my messages. But the truth of Tara's statement hit me in just the right place. <br /><br />Every Sunday when I preached and every week when I prepared that sermon I was writing for God. And, really, could I have a higher writing gig than that? Absolutely not. So, the dream of being published was still important, but it also became relative. If I ever became published, that would be wonderful, but if I didn't that would be okay, too, because I was using the gift and passion I had for writing in the very best way I possibly could - glorifying God. <br /><br />I had these two books published, so my goal had been obtained. Was it greedy to want more? Sometimes I think so. But I did have this other story I was working on. And I thought it was pretty good. And why not submit it since it was finished anyway, right? <br /><br />On the advice of an author colleague, I submitted to another publisher, and<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp0lAAViQHJqxYDbj7FVNeP9-PyfSRD_OxjzPR1ZcHRf0JO6zYIhWjtIYNLjDr0mA-opdtiVtpekI_T-NpBAxS-mFdjCG0s_nd3Desf1TtuLDLA-faqqaugtQT4wWi5FDvYxWerRSQYs2e/s1600-h/Coming+Soon+LgResplendence.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 207px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp0lAAViQHJqxYDbj7FVNeP9-PyfSRD_OxjzPR1ZcHRf0JO6zYIhWjtIYNLjDr0mA-opdtiVtpekI_T-NpBAxS-mFdjCG0s_nd3Desf1TtuLDLA-faqqaugtQT4wWi5FDvYxWerRSQYs2e/s320/Coming+Soon+LgResplendence.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363676753868721410" /></a><br /><br />YAY! They offered me a contract! So maybe being published isn't a fluke. Maybe my books are worth reading. I've claimed they're pure fluff. But, you know, fluff isn't a bad way to spend an afternoon.<br /><br />If you want to know more about the book Resplendence Publishing has contracted with me, go to my website<br /><br /><a href="http://booksbyjenniferjohnson.com/holdingoutforahero.aspx">http://booksbyjenniferjohnson.com</a><br /><br />We're early in the process, but I already have a release date: April 13, 2010. How awesome is that?!Jennifer Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07478509572702754984noreply@blogger.com