Just like premature ejaculations, some guys can’t wait to set off their 4th of July fireworks early. So all afternoon and evening I’ve been trying to edit and revising my wip while booming bangs, zings, and high-pitched whistles zoom, exploding in a multicolor shower of sparks.

I start to gain momentum, build my rhythm and then–Zap–Pow–Bang! I jump about three feet outta my chair and have to start over again as I gather my mental energy. Grrr.

And I really, really shouldn’t have given hubby those boxes of Snap! poppers before the 4th. Bad move on my part. He loves getting behind me when I am occupied (and thus oblivious) and throwing those stupid things on the ground or against a wall. No wonder I am jumpy. And hey–those stupid things leave a smudge mark on the wall, buddy! They don’t clean themselves you know.

Oh, okay…a certain someone asks that I explain that I wasn’t thinking of him in connection to my comment about premature ejaculations. Nope. He can go hours, days even. Heck–months! Better? Whew.

So where was I? Ahh, that’s right, the fireworks. I like watching them on the 4th. They are so pretty up in the nighttime sky. But I still don’t understand why anyone would waste them by lighting them in the daytime. That seems counterproductive to me.

Even with all the noise, I still managed to finish the revisions on chapter four, so yay me. :)

It’s supposed to rain here tomorrow, so our annual Independence Day family gathering will go indoors. Instead of water hose fights and slapping flies away from our hot dogs, we’ll all go to a movie and then come back to the house and nosh on food. Sometimes you have to be flexible with plans.

Good thing to keep in mind when you are a writer and surrounded by edits and revisions. :)

Have a Happy Fourth!

Cass

Happy Birthday
to my sister moonmaid, T.K.!

This cake is tasty,
but the beefcake on our blog
is evah so much betta. ::grins::

Stop by and wish T.K.
a Happy Birthday there as well,
and you might win a prize!

The Dragonfly

No bird or insect has the flight maneuverability of the Dragonfly. They can twist, turn, change directions in an instant, hover, move up or down, and even fly backwards. The power that dragonfly brings to the tapestry of life is skill. They are experts at what they do and do it relentlessly.

Dragonflies spectacular colors sparkle with iridescence in the sunlight. These colors take time to develop reflecting the idea that with maturity our own true colors come forth.

As newly hatched nymphs, dragonflies live on the bottom of ponds and streams. As they mature and go through metamorphosis they move to the realm of air. Since water represents the emotional body and air represents the mental, those with this medicine will often find themselves trying to maintain balance between their thoughts and emotions.

Children with dragonfly medicine are often very emotional. They feel things deeply and respond to situations with great passion. As they reach adulthood, and through experience, they learn how to balance their emotions with greater mental clarity and control. This gives them the compassionate quality necessary for any type of work relating to healing or counseling.

Dragonfly has the ability to reflect and refract light and colors and is often associated with magic and mysticism. Just as light can bend and shift and be adapted in a variety of ways, so can the archetypal forces associated with dragonfly. It conveys the message that life is never what it appears to be.

By helping a person see through illusion dragonfly awakens ones true vision. Flying at speeds of up to 30 miles per hour they can spot movement forty feet away. Flying into and around things from different angles, they challenge rigid awareness and prompt the energy of change for anyone who holds this totem medicine.

I have a newsletter! Weee! Sure it took me longer than the dimmest dimwit to figure out how to load and link the sucker, but it’s alive, by God! It’s A-L-I-V-E! Mwhaahahahaha!

Hey, you try not sleeping for 20 hours and see how batty you sound! LOL.

To sign up to receive my quarterly newsletter, email: cass@cassandracurtis.com.

Or go to my newsletter group on Yahoo and sign up.
(cassandra_curtis_author_newsletter-subscribe@yahoogroups.com) I still hope to eventually phase out the Yahoo group, but with new stories coming out and deadlines for more, it might be awhile before I am ready to tackle that. LOL.

Each quarter I pick an email address at random from the list of my newsletter recipients and give away prizes. This time ’round, the prize was a copy of an ebook from my backlist and a Starbucks gift card.

Cass

So, I have been meaning to revamp my newsletter and slowly do away with my Yahoo group since it is always giving me fits and I only use it to distribute my newsletter. Such a simple and easy thing to do, right?

Well, maybe simple and easy for someone who can actually figure out how to create a PDF file from a Word Document on a Mac. Day One in the Great Newsletter Experiment was yesterday.  I am happy to announce I rallied to victory over the evil machine that is my computer! Weee!

I have a newsletter! Yay! Not bad looking, either. Now for day two. Uploading the damn thing onto my website.

A friend told me I would need an FTP, which is a program created by pixies and monitored by daemon central control, or at least that’s how it seems.

I am supposed to simply drag and “drop” the file onto the icon image of the FTP program and it will merrily chirp away and send its bits up into outer space, then supposedly back down and into my website for readers to download and read as they choose.

This is perfect. What I have been looking for. Awesome. Okay, why isn’t it showing up? I have sent emails to the pixies and to daemon central control which is as you know Apple Headquarters help desk.

No, I did not buy their service plan. My machine is an ancient blue cube, truly an artifact from a byegone era, circa slightly after the Iron age.

If I ask again for computer help, the hubster will probably strangle me with the cords from his headphones which he uses to drown out my incessant whining about various topics. Like computers, my stupid scanner, my mother, lack of handicap parking spaces, my mother, the newsletter, our refrigerator which seems to only know how to deliver ice cubules the size of Manhattan, and of course, my mother.

I hope to upload my shiny, newly designed newsletter soon.

So keep your fingers crossed.

Cass

Here’s an excerpt from my upcoming book, Song of The Sea, book two in the Shifting Tides trilogy due out later this year from Amber Heat/Amber Quill Press.

Shifting Tides: Song of the Sea

by Cassandra Curtis, ©2008

Could he be the one she’d sensed following her these past few days? Viv glanced at the man she’d talked to earlier. He puzzled her. For a minute, she held his gaze; fully aware of the gnawing hunger he struggled to hide before he managed to break the trance. Excitement raced through her veins. In over two hundred years, no mortal man broke eye contact once called. She looked out at the sea of male faces and stretched the note, tweaked it the slightest bit. They leaned forward as one, always eager for more.

A minute of pure silence followed, then thunderous applause. She bowed, and enjoyed the rush of energy she always got from performing. The band started the lead-in for the next song. Jazz and torch songs amplified her sensual power and ability, each note a caress for the listener. She tempted her audience, but tonight, her entreaty singled out a particular set of ears.

Her gaze lingered on his rugged, handsome face, the close-cropped dark hair and the firm, masculine lips. Oh, how she’d like to tease them open and start a sensual fire inside. For all his loose-limbed nonchalant manner, she recognized the potent danger that cloaked his solid frame.

Had Nicky sent him? A cold trickle of fear settled in the pit of her stomach. She had no intention of going through with the wedding, and only agreed to pretend long enough to help her Uncle Silas. Of course, Nicky had other ideas about when the marriage officially started, so she had improvised and hit the road.

The man at the table didn’t look like the usual predators Nicky employed. He didn’t wear the symbol of their kind, nor did he carry the scent of the sea. So, who was he? What did he want?

She took a deep breath for the big finish at the end of the song, and belted out the finale. The audience rose to their feet, whistling and clapping. She licked the corner of her mouth and smiled at her admirers. Her eyes wandered back to the man at the table by the bar. He wanted something from her–that was certain.

If he was the man following her, she needed to know why. It paid to be careful–a lesson she’d learned the hard way. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t have some fun. Her lips curved into the Mona Lisa smile she had perfected over a lifetime, as desire flicked a steady burn. The audience wanted more. She planned to give them a night they’d never forget.

* * * * *

Damn, no wonder his client wanted her back so bad. He fidgeted in the chair. The incomparable Ms. Ondine jolted a man’s libido, made it snap to attention with nothing more than a toss of her glossy hair and a flash of perfect teeth. Her eyes locked once again with his for a heated moment. Power flowed underneath the melody, fierce and suggestive. He gasped, near drowned under the heavy pull of her spell.

He had to get out of here, breathe in the fresh night air–clear his head. Before he did something stupid–like grab her off the stage. Or haul her sweet ass over his shoulder, and take her back to his hotel–or just bend her across the table. Hell, he wasn’t some teenage jerk or a Neanderthal, so why had his hormones kicked into sudden overdrive?

The cheap piece of furniture fell backward when he stood, but his eyes never left the stage. She took the cordless microphone off the stand, and wove through the cabaret-style tables. He reached behind him and righted the chair as the last notes faded away. Anticipation filled the air.

She advanced. Her hips swayed, determination in every stride. Then she motioned to the band. A soft snare drum teased his senses.

Gentle whispers of sound escaped her lips. She leaned against the chair across from him, the one she’d vacated only minutes before, her voice low and sultry. Wanton. In the background, he could hear the soft snap of fingers to the rhythm.

He tried to move away, but she blocked him. What the hell? The rest of the band joined in, adding melody to the sexual beat. Her eyes were deeper than the ocean, and just as deadly.

No cover as of yet to post, but I promise once I have it in my hands, I’ll share it here with ya’ll so we can drool over it together. LOL.

Your Gemstone Says…

You are an excellent communicator. You express yourself clearly. You relate easily to other people, and you’re a great listener. Friends turn to you to help stay grounded and sane. You realize that everything is interconnected in life, and you aim to help as many people as possible.

The Gemstone Test

What does yours say?

Blessings to all!

The Summer Solstice is finally here!

Solstice means to “standstill”and refers to how the sun seems to rise and set in the same place at this time of year.

I’ve always thought it funny, since not a one of us is likely to stay in one spot for long, not on a special holiday like the Summer Solstice. Too much revelry to make for sure! :D

Now, I’ve lit my candles (at dusk as is my custom) to welcome the sun and gather its light upon my home. At dawn, I will greet the sunrise with great fanfare and joy. There will be dance and song, bonfires, and laughter, sheer merriment, and of course plenty of drink and food for a true celebration of family and friends.

In Glamorgan, Wales, some of my kinfolk will no doubt be lighting a straw-filled cartwheel and rolling it down the hill.  :)

While in County Limerick, Ireland, another member of my kinfolk will no doubt be leading a gathering to the sacred (and secret) faery hill, to pay our clans’ respects to the Great Queen of the Fae. And at Stonehenge in England (if they allow it still) I have friends who will be joining in the gathering of all the New Age dreamers and the Neo-Pagan believers to welcome in the sun and Solstice.

I wish all my readers a wonderful, joyous sunny day filled with happiness and laughter.

Blessed be,

Cassandra