PARAPROSDOKIANS (I have no idea what this means)
1. Do not argue with an idiot. He will drag you down to his level and beat you with experience.
2. The last thing I want to do is hurt you. But it's still on my list.
3. Light travels faster than sound. This is why some people appear bright until you hear them speak.
4. If I agreed with you, we'd both be wrong.
5. We never really grow up, we only learn how to act in public.
6. War does not determine who is right - only who is left.
7. Knowledge is knowing a tomato is a fruit. Wisdom is not putting it in a fruit salad.
8. Evening news is where they begin with 'Good Evening,' and then proceed to tell you why it isn't.
9. To steal ideas from one person is plagiarism. To steal from many is research.
10. A bus station is where a bus stops. A train station is where a train stops. On my desk, I have a work station.
11. I thought I wanted a career. Turns out I just wanted paychecks.
12. Whenever I fill out an application, in the part that says, 'In case of emergency, notify:' I put 'DOCTOR.'
13. I didn't say it was your fault, I said I was blaming you.
14. Women will never be equal to men until they can walk down the street with a bald head and a beer gut, and still think they are sexy.
15. Behind every successful man is his woman. Behind the fall of a successful man is usually another woman.
16. A clear conscience is the sign of a fuzzy memory.
17. I asked God for a bike, but I know God doesn't work that way. So I stole a bike and asked for forgiveness.
18. You do not need a parachute to skydive. You only need a parachute to skydive twice.
19. Money can't buy happiness, but it sure makes misery easier to live with.
20. There's a fine line between cuddling and holding someone down so they can't get away.
21. I used to be indecisive. Now I'm not so sure.
22. You're never too old to learn something stupid.
23. To be sure of hitting the target, shoot first and call whatever you hit the target.
24. Nostalgia isn't what it used to be.
25. Change is inevitable, except from a vending machine.
26. Going to church doesn't make you a Christian any more than standing in a garage makes you a car.
27. A diplomat is someone who tells you to go to hell in such a way that you look forward to the trip.
28. Hospitality is making your guests feel at home even when you wish they were.
30. When tempted to fight fire with fire, remember that the Fire Department usually uses water.
31. Words of Wisdom "The early bird may get the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese."
In The Works. . . . .
This is from the book I'm working on now......Would love to know what you think....
A dyed-in-the wool romantic, Linny Fraser had always loved Valentine’s Day. The hearts and flowers, the sappy movies, the heart-shaped chocolates, the sheer fairy-tale feeling of it all. But that had been before Grey swept her off her feet, made her fall head-over-heels in love with him, and then left town on Valentine’s Day three years ago without so much as a word of farewell.
She still couldn’t believe it. They had been best friends in middle school, sweethearts all through high school and practically engaged in college. And then he was gone. In their small town, everyone knew Grey had dumped her. Speculation had been rampant. No one knew where he’d gone -- not his best friend, Scott, not his sister or his parents. He hadn’t taken anything with him -- not his motorcycle or his guitar or anything else. It was as if he had vanished from the face of the earth.
The police came. But there were no clues, no signs of foul play. He was just gone.
For a time, rumors had flown hot and heavy that he had gotten her pregnant and left town to avoid the consequences. For the first three months after he’d left, she had been aware that everyone she talked to sent furtive gazes at her stomach, which remained blessedly flat.
She had graduated college, found a good-paying job as a Xx at Xx, and moved into a place of her own.
Linny had never really gotten over him. She had dated a few times since then, but her heart wasn’t in it. Because, for better or worse, she was still in love with Grey.
Grey lingered in the shadows beneath the flowering peach tree under Linney Frasier’s bedroom window. She had been in his thoughts, in his heart, for the last three years. It had been thoughts of Linny that kept him sane, that gave him hope, even though he knew the future they had once planned together was impossible. He had done things, seen things, that could never be forgotten or forgiven, not the least of which was leaving without telling her goodbye. But what could he have said? Besides, he hadn’t trusted himself to be alone with her after it happened. Or with anyone else, for that matter. As much as he had longed to see her, hold her, it had been out of the question.
But after three hellish years, he needed to see her, if only for a moment. To spend a little time with someone he knew, someone who had once loved him, cared about him. Three years without seeing a friendly face, hearing a familiar voice, holding and being held by someone who loved him...Three long, lonely years.
He tried not to think about what he’d do if she turned him away. He couldn’t go on another night as he had since he left Xx. He simply couldn’t endure it. Better to end it than spend the rest of his life alone.
Linny had always been tender-hearted, unable to ignore anything or anyone who was hurting. And he was hurting in the deepest part of his soul.
If he still had one.
Hopefully, this will be my book for September 2019....which seems like forever away.
The Mothers of Mercy Hospital was located in what had once been a fashionable part of the city. Age had whittled it down, leaving the place looking as old and worn out as the houses that surrounded it. Most of the well-to-do folk had fled the area during an outbreak of the plague, leaving only the poor and down-trodden behind.
Roan Catrell paused on the weed-strewn dirt road that led to the entrance. The air was fetid with the stench of horse droppings, rot, and despair. He didn’t know which was worse, the stink outside, or the smell of disease and death that permeated the very walls of the hospital.
Materializing on the third floor, he moved past the nurse on duty, unseen, then continued down the hallway until he came to the room at the end of the hall. A woman lay unmoving on the bed. Maura Singleterry, age twenty-eight, was the victim of a carriage accident that had killed the driver and the other two passengers. She was a pretty woman, or she had been. Now, her cheeks were sunken, her eyes shadowed, her hair limp and lackluster. Trapped in a coma for the last three weeks, her prognosis was bleak at best.
Entering the room, Roan closed the door, then glided silently to the side of the bed. He stood gazing down at her a moment; then, taking her limp hand in his, he sat on the edge of the narrow mattress, his mind delving through the darkness that kept her trapped in unconsciousness.
Opening a mental link between them, he murmured, Hello, Maura.
Who else?. Where would you like to go today?
My wedding day, but first…I want to know about you.
What would you like to know?
How is it we can talk when I cannot communicate with anyone else? Are you real? Or just a fever dream?
I’m real enough. ‘Tis a gift I have, being able to speak with those who are lost in the dark.
I cannot find my way out. She whimpered softly. I try and try, but I cannot get through the darkness.
Roan stroked her brow. I know. That’s why I’m here. Put your questions away for now, Maura, and I’ll take you back to the day you wed.
He closed his eyes, his mind searching hers, until he found the memory she wished to experience again. He gave it back to her, not as a dream, not as a faint memory, but as if she were reliving it again…she mingled with everyone who had been there, recalled each word spoken that day, each thought that crossed her mind, the love she felt for her new husband, the taste and smell and texture of the food she ate, her nervousness as she and her husband left her parents’ home, the carriage ride to the inn where they had spent their first night as husband and wife.
It was a rare gift he had, being able to grant those who were dying a chance to relive their most cherished memories. It cost him nothing, and he took but little in return for the pleasure he gave.
An hour later, Roan kissed Maura’s cheek in farewell and left the hospital. He felt a brief twinge of regret in knowing that she had only a few hours to live. It seemed unfair that such a sweet-natured woman should be taken before her time. Unfair, he thought again, that one who had everything to live for should be brought down in her prime while he, a man who had nothing to live for and no one to mourn him when he was gone, had existed for centuries.