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 |  Thoughts and deeds taking me on my path toward insanity. |
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** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Please visit me for updates on the Myth to Life series as well as other writings, don't forget to leave a message in the guestbook, and join the site at: http://www.eairwin.webs.com I would love to hear from you! |
| Hello everyone; Just a short note because I've been away so long. I'm still alive even though some wish otherwise. I'l be focusing more on my personal website and doing blog posts from there, then putting the links here for people to see. What I'd love more than anything is for you to come to my website, become a member, sign the guestbook and let me know you've been there. Especially those who visit here and never comment. I'd love to hear your comments good or bad about the site. Let me know what you think. I've taken up the gauntlet and will again work on Myth to Life: The Rise of Riley McCabe, finish the novel and get it published. What I'd like to do with the membership is to have feedback from those who read the original series and what they would like to see happen. I want an open relationship with my friends and readers or those merely interested in seeing what's inside my head at any given time. I'm still working 50 to 60 hours a week, have been since about five weeks after my surgery, which has made recouperating that much more difficult. But I miss writing Riley and having her make new friends with her fans. I can't do any of this without you and as I've always said don't want to. Writing is to be shared like rich friendships. So please drop by the site, tell me what you think, and become a member so I can send little notes when new items such as blogs pop up. Oh, and if you want your site listed in my Author Wonderland, please drop me a line and let me know what and where you are and what you're doing. Now, here's the link to my blog, which has a few updates. From there you can visit everything on the site and know what I've been up to in the few hours I'm not asleep. http://members.webs.com/MembersB/editAppPage.jsp?app=blog&pageID=114950107&token... Love you all. Stay close. Ta. Ever the optimist, P |
| Hello Everyone; Since I last wrote here, much time has passed. Some days and months passed quickly while parts of time slowed to imperceptible increments with almost no measure. As many of you know I’ve not been well, battling several things happening in my body I am unable to control. Well, really, I can’t control anything so why pretend I can? Looking back, there were many times I wanted to write and explain my circumstances, yet between extreme exhaustion and not wanting to bore anyone with my illness, retreated from much of life and most of my friends. For that I am sorry … the friends part that is. Life continues at its own speed despite me participating. When last I wrote, I was waiting for news of cancer in my thyroid. After waiting months for appointments, tests, results, the surgeon presented me with lots of information, most of which he almost resented communicating. He was an absolute jerk. From the first word out of his mouth he was combative, and since I’d been through so many doctors and test outcomes I decided I’d just confront everything he said to me, much of which was inappropriate on his part. I left with the knowledge I probably didn’t have cancer of the thyroid (after him telling me if I were to get cancer thyroid cancer would be the best to have since it was extremely treatable.) Good to know if I had the ability to control which cancer invaded my body. After an hour with him, untold rude remarks, him leaving the room and me trailing after him to ask if we were done, he asked me when he should set the surgery date. Umm … what planet did he hail from that made him believe I was hip to him slicing and dicing my throat and trying to save my voice? I told him I’d let him know and never looked back. So at this point I probably don’t have cancer but will ultimately find out when my thyroid is removed and the biopsy is sent to pathology. As I sit and write I am concentrating on not dwelling on the surgery which happens at high noon Monday the 14th. For the several year’s journey to get to this point I can only pack my bag for the overnight stay and pray for the doctor’s abilities and God’s guidance in his life. By the way, this surgeon is a wonderful man of faith, and has answered all my questions with great patience and given me hope at a time when most of my health and hope have evaporated. His parting words to me when I left his office this week were, “We’re going to take good care of you. I’m going to do everything I can to save your voice. This is the first step on a long road to get you back to good health.” Speaking of the voice, that really is a major concern. This surgeon confirmed what every doctor has told me. We talked a lot about that concern as he explained how the vocal nerve lies alongside the thyroid and it just depends if the nerve is clear or wrapped around other nerves and blood vessels. I may have a voice, it may sound totally different, it’s a good chance I won’t be able to sing or if I can my range will be limited. Or if I’m in the unlucky 1 to 2 percent my voice will no longer exist. But he assured me someone would be there to work with me to get even a small sound back. I have to leave the fear there because fear is a demon which steals everything good in our lives. The surgery was supposed to happen a few months ago, but like everything in my life, oddity happened. I was on the way to work and was in a rear end fender bender. No real significant damage to the car, or seemingly to me. Suffice it to say the 18 year old without his license or insurance wasn’t happy when I finally called the police after him begging for me not to. Such is life. The headache continued for three days before I said uncle and went to see a doctor. The diagnosis of a concussion wasn’t surprising, but that I walked around and tried going to work a little confusing to me why I tried to be Superwoman. Pain pills didn’t work, nothing worked to take away the pain. A C.A.T. scan was performed. The results looked weird and I was sent to a neurologist on a search and find mission. The neurologist, an absolutely fabulous woman, gave me a thorough exam and explained I passed with flying colors … oh but there were questionable things on the scan so I needed an M.R.I. just to make sure I could go into surgery. Yeah, me too doc, I don’t want to die on the table because my brain isn’t working. Had the M.R.I. and went back to the neurologist. Apparently the test showed the same problems and she didn’t know why. A grey area in my brain that was patchy. I looked at the pictures as she explained the scan. When I asked her if I should be drooling, she looked at me and told me I shouldn’t be functioning. Okay, that was unexpected. But she said obviously you are highly functioning and I’ve only seen this in one other case so it looks like that’s how your brain is formed. Sounded like a weather report to me – grey and patchy with a chance of drooling. I don’t mean to make light of brain issues because they aren’t a laughing matter. The concern on her face was real, the pain in my head real, the worse news to follow. She pulled up the next set of pictures, the ones after the grey patch which the radiologist didn’t like. She asked if I’d ever had strokes. I said no, why? Apparently there were too many white spots all over my brain which shouldn’t be in someone my age. Holes in my brain. Scarring with no apparent reason. So many questions, so few answers. Did I suffer from migraines? You betcha, since I was ten. She seemed to think this is what had killed the small blood vessels in my brain and scarred the tissue. Brains don’t grow back, hence the egg in the hot pan announcing this is your brain on drugs. But new neural pathways can form. With a new prescription and an order for more tests to determine blood clotting factors (since we wanted to keep me alive on that operating table) I left her office after receiving two large shots in the back of my head (occipital lobes) to deaden some of the screaming pain. The tests came back marginally well, new tests for RA and Lupus, plus a C.T. angiogram of my brain however prolonged the surgery. The lupus test came back positive, I went to a rheumatologist who stated I probably didn’t have lupus but the thyroid was acting so odd with my diagnosis of hyperthyroid (I’ve had all the symptoms of hyperthyroid and hypothyroid) that he felt that was the auto-immune disease I was fighting. The angiogram was a test I really don’t want to retake if I can help it and I feel for people dealing with cancer or undergoing treatment where they inject heated things into your veins. I kept singing ‘You light up my brain’ as I entered the lab. The I.V. was hooked up and the test begun. About ten minutes into the test, the tech grabbed my head from behind and said not to move, he was administering the iodine dye. The dye makes you suddenly hot with the sensation of wetting your pants while the scan spins around you. I’ve never quite experienced a test like that except one where an isotope was injected into my arm and the tech had six minutes to make sure the crap traveled the right way through my veins. This fiery brain concoction hit my head like a hot hammer and spread across my lungs and to my heart with rapid pulsing. For a few minutes I merely gasped while trying to get cool. Then ten minutes later the test was over and I was weaving down the hall in a stupor. My neurologist called yesterday and gave me the good news that she couldn’t find any misaligned blood vessels or blood flow around my brain and I could have the surgery Monday. Next month I go back for a check-up with her since the headaches haven’t really gone away. If they can’t figure out what’s going on new tests might happen, like a spinal tap to determine MS or something else. But at least I’m cleared for surgery and with a sense of relief that my brain isn’t going to explode while on the table. I will be happy to finally have the surgery and hopefully get off some of the medication I’m taking. Between the extreme exhaustion of the thyroid disease, all the prescriptions to regulate my blood pressure, speeding heart, deep depression, and brain pain has left me dragging to the point where some days I get up and go back to bed after only about five hours. But I’m hanging in there. Needless to say all this has affected my writing. I thought (so foolishly) that after the debacle of the Riley series publisher taking a hike, I would blow the new novel out of my head in a few months. I think most of the ideas got blown out another area of my body. Well I’ve been floundering for almost six months with only about 17K written to show my lackluster effort. Hopefully having surgery will allow me to put things behind me a bit more and on to the next chapter in my life as well as Riley’s life. On a happy news front, I have submitted “Kingdom in a Glass” and it will be published in the premier issue of the Mind’s Eye Magazine in January 2010. I put a poem “Punished” on one Ning website on a whim because the poem is so acerbic. The site owner liked it and asked if he could publish it in the next issue of Cold Coffee Magazine, which came out December 1. I agreed and that poem can now be found between the pages of the magazine and as a download. I can honestly say a lot has happened this past year. A rollercoaster of emotions have left me as exhausted as this lump in my throat. I’ve been angry, hurt, felt insane, giddy, exhausted, had two hours one day when I felt like I did when I was younger and more normal, been in untold pain, and have cried a million or so tears. I think the crying jags are the worst, but I’m getting through them with a little help from the pharmaceutical companies. Here’s to little pills. I’ll close with something I’ve often said. You cannot control anything except how you react to the circumstances you’re going through. You cannot change what you are not willing to acknowledge. Sometimes things just aren’t your fault and give up trying to make them your fault. God is always in control of the situation and if you can honestly relinquish that control you can make it through things you thought impossible. Take care, my friends. I miss you much. Hopefully I’ll be back in the near future. I promise not to take so long this time if I’m able to communicate. P |
Manic Readers’ Review Myth to Life: The Rise of Riley McCabe - At Death's Door by P. A. Matthews There's supposed to be a cool 4-star icon here from Manic Readers, but WDC doesn't do html for pictures. Braedon Carlisle is a handsome and, some might say, beautiful man or is he? Braedon is definitely not what he appears to be on the outside and the secret of whom and what he is and his unique and unusual way of life will change anyone who comes in contact with him. Braedon is not human and must find shelter during the day in order to survive. He is a vampire and his flock or children are his to protect and care for. Riley McCabe is the one person who he loves and will always protect. But, her secret life is just as unusual and if known to others would cause them to fear her and more. Spending time together and realizing that they need to be apart in order to sort out their feelings, Riley leaves his estate in England and returns home to Scotland. Before she has a chance to really decide what she wants to do, he reenters her life and she is enveloped back into a world filled with the supernatural and more. Riley has psychic powers that Braedon calls upon her to use in order to find out how someone close to him was killed. Sloan, as close to him as Riley, has disappeared or might be dead. He brings Riley back to where he was kidnapped in order to find out what happened and possibly, why. Riley agrees to use her powers and experiences the events of Sloan’s death firsthand not realizing exactly what this would do to her and what the realities would be. The reader becomes totally immersed in the events as if you are really there and experiencing the pain, agony and more that Riley experiences when she sees Sloan’s killer and experiences his death as if it is happening to her. Along with Braedon, his man friend Quinlan and one of his children or flock Desmond are there to protect both Braedon and Riley or are they? With Quinlan’s help and the promise of Braedon’s protection the events that unfold will send the reader into a world that is terrifying, dangerous, and unsettling. Riley’s secret as to whom and what she really is and what part she really plays in the death of Sloan are revealed at the very end of this book on the very last page. The author leaves the reader unsure as to what will really happen to any of the characters. Motive for murder is often revenge. Riley sees an old adversary in one of her visions and realizes that it is something from her past that has caused these events in what seems like her present and will definitely play a part in her future. I really enjoyed reading Myth to Life: The Rise of Riley McCabe and hope that the author will write a sequel. I want to know what will happen to Braedon and Riley and if they have a future in either one of their worlds. I want to know if her adversary will confront her and what will be the final outcome. I would highly recommend this book to a friend. This review is wonderful and bittersweet. After requesting the review in January of 2009, my hopes of receiving a review seemed improbable since sites don’t guarantee they will review your work. I decided I would take the request off my Outlook task list and close the book on this forever. Prior to all this happening, I had also decided to terminate my contract with Mystic Moon Press for many reasons, but wanted to wait for “Blood Betrayal” to come out because there were people who wanted to read it. But I had finally decided if I was never going to be published again, I was satisfied with my decision to leave Mystic Moon Press. Most of you know I became seriously ill in January, so dealing with termination of my contract as well as all the other inconveniences life throws at us got shoved to the back burner until I could physically deal with everything. Then the series took off at Fictionwise eBooks and I related all the great things happening there. I decided it was time to terminate with Mystic Moon, then I received the wonderful review from Manic Readers the day after I closed the Outlook task. How is that for coincidence and a confidence booster? While in the process of writing my letter to Mystic Moon Press all hell broke loose and everything became a moot point. Mystic Moon Press had scammed its authors, not paid them, took the money and denied culpability. The entire staff resigned. All the authors terminated their contracts. The owner remained silent throughout all of the turmoil and still remains silent. Happily, though saddened for everyone involved except the owner and her cohorts, I can report the authors did accomplish something it would have taken attorneys months to fix. Just from last week Mystic Moon Press is out of business (until the owner changes names and starts scamming again) and the site has been taken down. Fictionwise no longer has the publisher listed and all the author’s books have been removed. Mobipocket is following suit. Hopefully, Amazon.com will bring up the rear in doing right by the authors but at least the ‘buy at’ links have been disabled. There are so many affiliated sites and subsidiaries of these carriers that it may be some time before all works issued from Mystic Moon Press never exist. I want to thank everyone who has supported me throughout my writing career and especially with my series “Myth to Life: The Rise of Riley McCabe.” I have always said I cannot do any of this without you, nor did I wish to. Through you Riley has been able to have her voice heard and has proven what she has to say is interesting. But do not fear Riley McCabe is not dead. I am currently writing the first fill length novel in Riley’s series (something I had planned all along) and can’t wait to share more of her life with those interested reading, which I hope is everyone! Sorry, a little self-promotion there. After the dust settles on this, and I am assured all my rights are back in my hot little hands, I look forward to picking up the manuscript once again and settling old scores with Riley’s ancient and new foes. Who knows what evil lurks out there for Riley to encounter? I do! Thanks again for all your support. Riley and I have had a rough several months, but thither onward, mon amis, we’re out of the gate and not turning back. I’m carrying my sword high and running full force toward a new day. Patricia P. A. Matthews http://pamatthews/webs/com |
| I often wonder how Julie Andrews truly felt when she discovered she could no longer sing, especially since she’d entrusted her exquisite voice to a surgeon and the end result became the unthinkable. Did she cry? Throw things? Wish she could scream bloody murder only to realize a croak would have to suffice instead of the long wail? Did depression cloak her, or deep inside was she able to live what she showed to the outside world? She is the consummate professional—her attitude toward the outcome of her life in seemingly good balance. I am not Julie Andrews. On any level. Except one. A passion for singing. For weeks I have struggled with how to relate my situation to those interested reading about my hum-drum little life. Well, not weeks, actually months. I stated in an earlier blog there were health issues I’m dealing with, some not so great moments in the annals of living life to the fullest. To put us into today, we have to take a few steps back to several years ago and continual diagnoses which tipped my world on it’s ear … or upside down in my case since I have vertigo and often I find myself hanging onto the bed so I don’t fall off while thinking I’m twirling on the ceiling. Life’s ups and downs take on new meaning in my house. Some of you know I am a singer. It has been my passion since I was 15. I’ll write a blog one day about my life singing, the highs and lows, and some of the personal experiences I’ve had while doing what I truly loved. I’ve often thought about writing a short story about my life in a certain choir and one day may take people on the journey of The Disenchanted Diva. But I digress. Two years ago I developed a hacking cough, dry, irritating … constant. My personal thought at that time was that I was exposed to an unknown environmental situation since one day I was fine and the next day all hell broke lose in my body. To this day I still think I was exposed to something toxic which triggered the decline of my health due to it attacking what was already vulnerable in my body. No time to find out what was wrong since I was in the midst of one of the busiest times of the year at work, plus no health insurance. But I have a limited background in the medical field so I did what I do best and what many out there do best, what I call prairie medicine. You know the kind of stuff your grandmother used, or at least my grandmother used. I did finally go to the doctor when my voice consistently sounded strangled, I couldn’t walk without gasping, and my heart rate soared through the roof. Even I know when to cry uncle. The result of that visit began a long journey into the wasteland of medical opinion. By the time I got to the doctor I couldn’t speak from the gasping and loss of my voice. Two series of cortisone treatments, massive doses of high-powered antibiotics, an inhaler, and a month in forced silence somewhat restored my voice. A late night call from the doctor after a chest x-ray ruled out pneumonia … confirmed other things, possibly a strangled aorta. Okay, give me a minute to digest the info and I’ll get back to you, doc. I will admit fear freely flowed through me, shutting off logical thought, sending my head into overdrive, all while trying to stuff the emotions deep inside me so I could cope with life. I still had to work. Now I got to purchase a C.A.T scan view of the lungs, heart, etc., etc. Let me stop here and let you know money to me is relative. I have never really desired riches, but money does aid you when you need something important like that test. Although, if a record deal had come my way I wouldn’t have refused the cash. The scan confirmed C.O.P.D. and a funky ventricle in the heart, plus a few other issues I’ve still not had a good diagnosis on. What the scan also showed was the goiter on my thyroid, once almost infinitesimal, now growing and displacing my trachea. Huh, well that explained the pain I experienced as I watched my neck changing shape. Oh and by the way it’s going to take a long time to recover from this trauma to your system. Way to go, doc. Think you could learn a better bedside manner? On to the throat specialist/surgeon. The only good report to come out of that visit was that my vocal folds were in great shape. No scarring. No nodes. My years of training and learning to sing properly had paid off. What was shared with me after I was poked, prodded, lump measured, inspection of vocal folds, still upsets me. First, the surgeon told me he didn’t do the type of surgery I needed. Huh? You couldn’t have told me this over the phone weeks ago and I’m now wasting my time and his on something that’s going no where. But wait … more joy to share. I told him I sang. His response to me was this: You will never sing again. Joy. Rapture. Tell me more wonderful news. He told me: In fact, after the surgery you will probably lose your voice altogether and it will never return. How I stayed upright in the examination chair still remains a mystery as my head spun off my body. Do you have insurance? No. Now the words you don’t expect to hear from a doctor: How the hell are you going to pay for this? His actual words. I gathered the silence around me and told him I would figure it out. What I really wanted to do was shove every pointy instrument into his eyes and say whoops, guess you lost your eyesight, hope you can find something else to do with your down time. The final cherry on top of the stupendous sundae was I got to pay his outrageous fee for the consultation. I should have stopped payment on the check. I should have kicked him in the balls and said deal with it. Needless to say at this point I wasn’t hip to surgery. Fast forward to this year. Another health crisis to deal with. Another blog which may not make it to the page. Still no insurance. This time a new clinic had a nurse practitioner who decided to become my health advocate since so many things were happening. Months into the process we could finally address the growth in my neck. The ear/nose/throat specialist fed a camera through my nose to my vocal folds and thoroughly inspected them. Good news. Despite the continuing hoarseness, totally losing the voice, the folds were in excellent condition. He ordered an ultrasound, which I had. The results were in. My nurse gave me the news. Lots of cysts. Okay, that wasn’t bad news. She looked at me with a different expression on her face: The large nodule has great blood supply to it. My breathing deepened as she watched my face. Okay, so it’s a tumor type thing nodule. She nodded, never forced me to answer, then: What do you want to do? My father had thyroid cancer. Had survived thyroid cancer. The nodule rapidly growing in my throat held the possibility of either being benign or cancerous. Something always in the back of my mind, something to deal with in the here and now. Go ahead and order the biopsy. Are you okay? Yes. Can we increase the dosage on the anxiety medication? She smiled and said we could up it as much as needed. I’m not sure I felt brave, in fact, I’m not sure what I felt except the thing growing in my neck like an alien being waiting to burst forth. Hey, could it suture the wound when it left so I didn’t have to pay for surgery? I was brave when I told my mother. Maybe not brave but a little shell-shocked which took the edge off delivering bad news. I do remember going to bed, crawling into a fetal position, putting my arms around myself and rocking since there wasn’t anyone to do that for me. All I wanted was to put my head in someone’s lap who cared and let them stroke my head and tell me it would be all right. I told myself it would be all right. I prayed a lot. I cried a lot. I dealt with the news. The biopsy was this week. For the past several years I have been working on facing fear head on. Fear is debilitating. Fear is that nasty demon which wraps its tentacles around you and doesn’t let go. Fear is that thing which reminds us we have no hope. Fear is mistaken for it doesn’t recognize there is a more powerful person in my life—God. And through God all things are possible. When combing my hair before leaving for the appointment, I had a sudden attack of panic. I felt what the fear was doing in my body, that fight or flight scenario where you feel like passing out, your limbs go cold because blood is rushing to your organs to save you, and you gasp for air like a dying fish. I looked in the mirror to see a grayed replica of me staring back. I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. My sister convinced me to take her with me to the appointment stating I didn’t have to be the big girl and bear the news alone. After the biopsy she told me I looked ragged. Yeah, we don’t spare each other at times, and really what did she expect after 45 minutes with needles being stuck in your neck? I felt ragged, and as the day unwound so did the anxiety level, which left me exhausted, a reminder why none of us is built to live in constant stress. Now I wait for the news of my biopsy. For the next appointment with the specialist to give me the word, whatever that would will be. I say the word cancer to offset the shock of hearing the bad news. Possibly not the best thing but I’d rather be prepared than be in a fantasy state and fall to pieces. My idea is plan for the worst, accept the good news when it comes. Life is so uncertain at times. Through the situations in my life I’ve learned to trust God more, to give Him the problems to deal with and try not to take them back. That’s the key, not taking the problems back, but learning to lean on His understanding even when it is foreign to us. I pray I don’t have cancer. I pray the lump in my throat will someday disappear, and if it doesn’t I pray that the right surgeon will be there when I need him. Everything has a season, and as we travel through each cycle we learn more about the season we are living through and our place in it and are allowed to cherish the experiences those seasons have to offer. To not acknowledge the dismal season in favor of a brighter one does us a disservice. We don’t grow, but remain static. We become weak. Our roots don’t take hold in fertile soil and grow deep enough to withstand the onslaught of life’s storms. I want to be brave. I am a warrior. And one day I hope to sing again. Ta and peace, P |
~ Quote of the Day ~ The reality is more excellent than the report. - Ralph Waldo Emerson Hello everyone; I’m sorry I’ve been away for ages. I’ve been seriously ill since January, as well as working sixty plus hours a week to keep afloat. I’ll write more about some of this in a later blog, however, I wanted to share some truly exciting news with everyone. Friday, I thought I would check Fictionwise eBooks to see how my series “Myth to Life: The Rise of Riley McCabe” was doing. By the way, after waiting almost four months for something to happen, I can also share “Blood Betrayal” has finally been released at Fictionwise and Amazon.com (e-book section), as well as Mystic Moon Press. Getting back to Fictionwise. I checked the site and received a huge shock. ALL the stories in the Myth to Life series were in the TOP 107 in the Dark Fantasy section (where my books are located) and “Blood Betrayal” hit TOP RATED!!!!! But wait … ALL the stories have since moved up, with “Between Myth and Blood” taking spot #31, “Blood Betrayal” in #48, “At Death’s Door” rounding the corner at #68, and “Hunted” bringing up the lovely rear (and what a lovely rear it is) at #75! Yes, this means that ALL Myth to Life stories are in the top 75 in the Dark Fantasy section and the top 15 in the Fictionwise Mystic Moon Publisher section. I’ll tell you I can’t express the all-out shock and exhilarated feelings that coursed through me as I stared at the first placement of “Between Myth and Blood” and wondered where all the other stories were in the lineup. The shock continued as I sat with my mouth open and my eyes bugging out at seeing the brand new covers with my name on them lining the top pages of Fictionwise. I know this won’t last forever, although if people keep buying it could stay for awhile, (please, oh please), so I wanted to share my good fortune with those who understand how difficult it is to write and write hoping one day they will get published, and when you finally do get published you have to wait and wait for something else to happen or the work to appear somewhere, then you have to wait for an eternity for people to even notice you’re on the pages to read … that is if you’re lucky enough to have someone notice, then wait for anyone to take a chance on reading an unknown author and passing on information to others that they enjoyed the book and will read the next installment. Whew! What a rollercoaster ride this has been. Honestly, I put so much hard work into writing what I thought was the best I could write at that moment in my life, I wasn’t sure I could keep going … but I did. I worked like crazy trying to get my name out there by joining different groups and attempting to advertise (I’m so far out of my comfort zone that sometimes I feel it isn’t me doing these things since I’m basically really shy. Yes, I’ve become a writing group whore, pimping my stuff so people will read, waiting for a best seller while I write more.) But I can tell you that I’ve had to stop trying to promote due to the lingering illness. Have slowed my writing to a snail’s pace and less due to working so many hours to keep life (or my pseudo life) going. In all of this, depression, the darkest I’ve been in for a long time, once again reared its ugly head because nothing, including my health, was within my control. I felt trapped by life and circumstance knowing that the small efforts I’d put forth would be meaningless if I ever got back to writing and trying to present my work. That was it … if I ever got back … to anything. I suppose that’s why this news was so important to share. In the very desolate and uncertain state of my life, God allowed something new to spring forth from barren ground. Hope. The part of me I had almost lost as I struggled through the mire of sickness and mental death. So when I share the great news of people buying my work, I realize it is selfish on my part, but in this I wanted to say I have learned so much during this time of separation from what I knew as my life. To wait doesn’t necessarily mean something isn’t ever going to happen, no matter how dim the prospects. No doesn’t necessarily mean that’s the final word, but perhaps a chance for something better to come along which will make you say I didn’t expect that good outcome. Today I got to realize the success I’d already envisioned between my ears—where real success resides, and got to acknowledge once again I cannot do any of this without all of you reading, reviewing, and sharing my work with others. I once said I would take you on my ride through publishing, today we get to stop and take a breather while people read my work. Tomorrow we begin again, traversing through the unknown of writing and publishing, knowing we got to experience and taste the sweetness of this current success. I do not want to do any of this without all of you. If you are interested reading the Myth to Life series, I would love it. Tell me your thoughts, let me know what you think of Riley, Braedon, Quinlan, Desmond, Andrew, and the many miscreants attempting their destruction. Fictionwise eBooks: http://www.fictionwise.com/eBooks/pamatthewseBooks.htm?cache Here’s to making Myth to Life: The Rise of Riley McCabe number 1! Yes, a girl can dream, and I’m dreaming big. Ta and peace, P http://pamatthews.webs.com |
St. Patrick's Day blessing upon you! ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Happy St. Patrick's Day from this wee lass as I wish you all blessings from my little corner of the Irish world. In closing, I shall leave you with these bits of Irish wisdom. What Shall I Say About the Irish? The utterly impractical, never predictable, Sometimes irascible, quite inexplicable, Irish.Strange blend of shyness, pride and conceit, And stubborn refusal to bow in defeat. He's spoiling and ready to argue and fight, Yet the smile of a child fills his soul with delight. His eyes are the quickest to well up with tears, Yet his strength is the strongest to banish your fears. His hate is as fierce as his devotion is grand, And there is no middle ground on which he will stand. He's wild and he's gentle, he's good and he's bad. He's proud and he's humble, he's happy and sad. He's in love with the ocean, the earth and the skies, He's enamoured with beauty wherever it lies. He's victor and victim, a star and a clod, But mostly he's Irish— in love with his God. The Irish... Be they kings, or poets, or farmers, They're a people of great worth, They keep company with the angels, And bring a bit of heaven here to earth An Irish Welcome Here's Céad MÃle Fáilte to friend and to rover That's a greeting that's Irish as Irish can be It means you are welcome A thousand times over Wherever you come from, Whosoever you be ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Ta and peace, P |
~ Quote of the Day ~ “I should have let them stick that hot poker in both of your eyes while they ripped your insolent tongue from your ungrateful mouth. Then I could have thoroughly enjoyed them flaying you open while you were still alive to experience the torture. I never should have brought you over, but I did so out of compassion for you, and you show your gratitude by disrespecting everything I have ever given you. You have destroyed my trust.” Braedon Carlisle to Desmond Blood Betrayal - P. A. Matthews ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Myth To Life - The Rise of Riley McCabe: Blood Betrayal Riley McCabe vanished without a trace . . . or so Braedon Carlisle, master vampire, is led to believe. In a pact to save Braedon and his bloodline, Riley agrees to enslavement by the Host’s maniacal leader Doran for one year. With the caveats she sever ties with Braedon and the House of Carlisle without a reason, and agreeing not to use her psychic or Seelie powers, Riley is taken to a hidden corner of the evil Unseelie kingdom very few escape. Sworn to secrecy by Riley, only two people know of this pact to ensure their safety and protect Braedon as well—Quinlan, Braedon’s human servant and wereleopard Andrew, Braedon’s main blood donor and Riley’s friend. In this Carlisle Chronicle, enemies assault from every side, including those from Braedon’s monster-filled past. As Braedon mourns losing Riley, his life becomes erratic, and the ensuing power struggle between his human and vampire identities leaves lingering doubt which side will win. Can anyone survive the consuming betrayal inside the House of Carlisle . . . including its master? Hello Everyone; I'm pleased to inform you that Blood Betrayal was finally released on February 28, 2009! Yay! In this novelette we peek inside the House of Carlisle as well as reveal part of Braedon Carlisle's inner thoughts as its master. At the end of Hunted Riley left without a word to say she'll return ... that is if she is allowed to return. But does this constitute betrayal in Braedon's world? To him personally? Enemies. Friendships. Love. Murder. Betrayal. Everything changes as the game of life and death plays out inside the House of Carlisle. Blood Betrayal is now available at Mystic Moon Press http://www.mysticmoonpress.com/authorpages/pamatthews.html and will soon be available at Fictionwise eBooks http://www.fictionwise.com/eBooks/PAMatthewseBooks.htm, Amazon.com and other eBook outlets. I would love for you to read the newest novelette and give me feedback on the stories. And, while you're at it, why not catch up on the three previous Riley adventures which led to this new story. All works are available at the previously mentioned outlets. I can't do any of this without your support, nor do I want to. I hope you enjoy the reads. Riley McCabe awaits you. Ta and Peace, P |
~ Thought for the Day ~  Hey All; My friend C sent this to me this morning. It's a two-fer from both sides of my DNA. Now, who might I ask, doesn't love an Irish Blonde? Especially when there is a joke involved. Enjoy, complements of C. Ta, P AN IRISH BLONDE IN A CASINO An attractive blonde from Cork , Ireland arrived at the casino. She seemed a little intoxicated and bet twenty-thousand Euros on a single roll of the dice. She said, 'I hope you don't mind, but I feel much luckier when I'm completely nude'. With that, she stripped from the neck down, rolled the dice and with an Irish brogue yelled, 'Come on, baby, Mama needs new clothes!' As the dice came to a stop, she jumped up and down and squealed...'YES! YES! I WON, I WON!' She hugged each of the dealers and then picked up her winnings and her clothes and quickly departed. The dealers stared at each other dumbfounded. Finally, one of them asked, 'What did she roll?' The other answered, 'I don't know - I thought you were watching.' MORAL OF THE STORY - Not all Irish are drunks, not all blondes are dumb, but all men...are men.  |
~ Quote of the Day ~ The most wasted of all days is one without laughter. e e cummings (1894 - 1962) Hello All; I was going to place something else here to read, however I spent seven out of eight hours of work today in mind-numbing, brain-smoothing meetings. What little brain was left seeped out my ear on the way home, so basically I'm just going on brain stem hoping my directional ability is still intact so I can fall into bed. I thought I'd share something funny today. And what is funnier than children explaining things ... this time the ocean. Enjoy the laugh, P 1) This is a picture of an octopus. It has eight testicles. (Kelly, age 6) 2) Oysters' balls are called pearls. (Jerry, age 6) 3) If you are surrounded by ocean, you are an island. If you don't have ocean all round you, you are incontinent. (Wayne, age 7) 4) Sharks are ugly and mean, and have big teeth, just like Emily Richardson. She's not my friend any more. (Kylie, age 6) 5) A dolphin breaths through an asshole on the top of its head. (Billy, age 8) 6) My uncle goes out in his boat with 2 other men and a woman and pots and comes back with crabs. (Millie, age 6) 7) When ships had sails, they used to use the trade winds to cross the ocean. Sometimes when the wind didn't blow the sailors would whistle to make the wind come. My brother said they would have been better off eating beans. (William, age 7) 8) Mermaids live in the ocean. I like mermaids. They are beautiful and I like their shiny tails, but how on earth do mermaids get pregnant? Like, really? (Helen, age 6) 9) I'm not going to write about the ocean. My baby brother is always crying, my Dad keeps yelling at my Mom, and my big sister has just got pregnant, so I can't think what to write. (Amy, age 6) 10) Some fish are dangerous. Jellyfish can sting. Electric eels can give you a shock. They have to live in caves under the sea where I think they have to plug themselves in to chargers. (Christopher, age 7) 11) When you go swimming in the ocean, it is very cold, and it makes my willy small. (Kevin, age 6) 12) Divers have to be safe when they go under the water. Divers can't go down alone, so they have to go down on each other. (Becky, age 8) 13) On vacation my Mom went water skiing. She fell off when she was going very fast. She says she won't do it again because water fired right up her big fat ass. (Julie, age 7) 14) The ocean is made up of water and fish. Why the fish don't drown I don't know. (Bobby, age 6) 15) My dad was a sailor on the ocean. He knows all about the ocean. What he doesn't know is why he quit being a sailor and married my mom. (James, age 7) |
~ Thought of the Day ~ What has he been smoking and why does he feel the need to channel President Lincoln? Today, we in America celebrate the birthday of our First President of the United States, George Washington, along with our sixteenth and other great President of the United States, Abraham Lincoln. I offer the following commentary from Rational Liberty - Where Reason and Government Collide. No other words are necessary, except those of us who do not wish to rewrite history know our true heros. Cowardice is not counted among a hero's traits. Peace, P Defeating the Obama-Lincoln Myth This post was written by RL Admin on February 13, 2009 It is amusing to witness Barack Obama, with the help of his staff and the sycophants in the media, constantly invoking the name of Abraham Lincoln and comparing his now three-week old administration to Honest Abe’s. The painfully obvious differences between these two men demonstrate how ridiculous the comparisons have been. Their philosophies could not be more fundamentally opposed to one another. The 200th anniversary of Lincoln’s birthday was yesterday and we were subjected to more asinine blathering from the media and political commentators who neither understood Lincoln, nor comprehend Obama. These men have very little in common, especially when it comes to politics. All one has to do is merely observe how their philosophies relate to government. So, let’s do that. (Lincoln quotes are in italics.) “I am a firm believer in the people. If given the truth, they can be depended upon to meet any national crisis. The great point is to bring them the real facts.” From the very beginning we can see that Barack Obama and Abraham Lincoln have two very different views on truth and the American People. Obama has done everything in his power to deny access to documents from his past and to deny relationships with people of an unsavory character. He also perpetuates blatant lies to the public about topics such as global warming (that it’s caused by man), the source of our economic problems (greed and deregulation), and even somewhat trivial matters about earmarks in the current “stimulus” bill (he claims there are none). When given a chance to offer the People the “real facts,” Obama is either strangely absent, or he sticks to his partisan guns and puts nearly all of the blame on his opposition and their philosophies. The real fact is that Lincoln was a brilliant statesman. Obama is just another typical politician. “I don’t believe in a law to prevent a man from getting rich; it would do more harm than good. So while we do not propose any war upon capital, we do wish to allow the humblest man an equal chance to get rich with everybody else.” “Property is the fruit of labor; property is desirable; it is a positive good in the world. That some should be rich shows that others may become rich, and hence is just encouragement to industry and enterprise. Let not him who is houseless pull down the house of another, but let him work diligently and build one for himself, thus by example assuring that his own shall be safe from violence when built.” In direct opposition to Lincoln’s sentiments about increasing wealth – or becoming rich – Barack Obama attacks those who live in luxury and wages political and rhetorical war on the upper class. Instead of helping to promote the lower classes into the upper class on their own merit, Obama’s plan is to confiscate the riches from the wealthy and simply give it to those who have less. There cannot be a difference more elementary than that between these two men. Compare the quotes above with one of Obama’s most publicized from the recent election cycle: “My attitude is that if the economy’s good for folks from the bottom up, it’s gonna be good for everybody. I think when you spread the wealth around, it’s good for everybody.” We also heard him say his policies would bankrupt the coal industry: “So if somebody wants to build a coal-powered plant, they can; it’s just that it will bankrupt them because they’re going to be charged a huge sum for all that greenhouse gas that’s being emitted.” And just recently, he issued orders and statements telling CEO’s and businesses that they shouldn’t be giving bonuses to their employees or going to Las Vegas for corporate trips – which has drawn ire from the mayor of that city. Obama’s visions of government healthcare are also at the opposite end of the spectrum from Lincoln. To pretend that Lincoln would support this type of program, or even the philosophy behind it – that the federal government should be the provider of such a service to every individual – would be an absolute sham. It would be dishonorable to his name to associate Lincoln with any policy or philosophy that involved an enormous transfer of individual responsibility to the powers of the federal government. “This is essentially a People’s contest. On the side of the Union, it is a struggle for maintaining in the world, that form, and substance of government, whose leading object is, to elevate the condition of men — to lift artificial weights from all shoulders — to clear the paths of laudable pursuit for all — to afford all, an unfettered start, and a fair chance, in the race of life.” Equal opportunity is the message here – not equal outcomes. Giving people a fair chance and lifting unnecessary burdens from their shoulders is the ideal environment for individuals to succeed. Lincoln understood this. Barack Obama does not. For the better part of his adult life, Obama has participated in the “social justice” movement, which is based on redistributionist philosophies created and promoted by socialists. His work in community organizing was based entirely upon those principles. Unfortunately, these attitudes have carried over into his political career and the policies of his administration. Obama’s populist message has catered to the moochers, beggars, and robbers of society and his government growth policies will ultimately put additional “artificial weight” on the shoulders of many Americans. The earlier quote about the coal industry is a perfect example. Lincoln certainly would have been disgusted by this. “Let every American, every lover of liberty, every well wisher to his posterity, swear by the blood of the Revolution, never to violate in the least particular, the laws of the country; and never to tolerate their violation by others.” This one is too easy. With the recent tax-evading cabinet appointees for his new administration, Barack Obama indisputably isolated himself from any legacy that could be compared to Lincoln. Not only did Obama “tolerate” the violations of law – he openly supported his choices despite those facts. He didn’t even think they were a big deal – that is, until Tom Daschle resigned and there was a backlash from the public. And let’s not forget about his past relationships with criminals like Bill Ayers and Tony Rezko. Obama’s track-record of toleration for violators of the law is enough to make any lawyer sick, let alone Abraham Lincoln. “In stating a single condition of peace, I mean simply to say that the war will cease on the part of the government, whenever it shall have ceased on the part of those who began it.” With the rash of executive orders in the opening days of his administration and the appointments to various intelligence and legal positions in the federal government, it is quite clear that Obama is ready to end our war against Islamic extremism before the enemy decides to discontinue their agenda. Even during a time of war, Obama and Lincoln are incompatible. The former knew that in order for a war to end, the aggressors must be willing to cease their offensive strategy. In his first three weeks in the White House, Obama has signaled to our enemy that the government, under his authority, is ready to give up. Imagine if Lincoln had done the same when dealing with the Confederate army. “Passion has helped us, but can do so no more. It will in the future be our enemy. Reason – cold, calculating, unimpassioned reason – must furnish all the materials for our future support and defense.” There is little reason in this new administration. We are being force-fed policies that have long been proven to fail. It is blind passion that influences these decisions to increase our debt when it is already astronomical. It is passion that has guided the decision to let up in our efforts to defeat our enemies. It is passion – not cold, calculating reason – that leads this new government to campaign for the implementation of state-controlled healthcare and energy. If reason was their guide, they would fully comprehend the perils of surrender and of expansive, overpowering government. They would also recognize the failures of the past and not promote the exact same policies for similar circumstances today. Reason is practically non-existent in every aspect of this new administration, from the cabinet appointments and the executive orders to the desire to rapidly inflate our national debt. Lincoln must be spinning in his grave at the mere thought of the Obama administration. When it comes to Lincoln and Obama, there is absolutely no comparison. To try to make one is utterly dim-witted. In all seriousness – Obama isn’t even from Illinois. And neither was Lincoln. They don’t even have that in common. What the mainstream media and other Obama flatterers are doing is pretentious and quite pathetic. They are expecting the ignorant masses to accept their historical revision – or rather, their prevision of the Obama legacy. The saddest part of it all is that it seems to work with the uneducated population which travels en masse to the polls on Election Day. What a fine way to celebrate such an important bicentennial birthday of one of America’s greatest presidents…and one of its greatest men. http://rationalliberty.com/index.php/2009/02/13/defeating-the-obama-lincoln-myth... |
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