Beautiful fall day

 

Hi Everyone! 

So much to catch up on. First, it's been a beautiful summer and even lovelier fall.

This is the rural road I live on.

Literally.

I love walking it whenever I can to the corner dairy farm.

When time and energy are on my side, I continue to the top of the hill, 

roughly about 1 1/2 miles. The road has a steep incline, very shaded and untraveled.

It reminds me of the thick forest Dorothy Gale from Kansas, 

along with the Scarecrow and Tinman dared trespass through

when they met the cowardly lion.

I have some photos of this year's fall color tour I'll try and upload. 

They're on the phone and I'm here, on the PC. I've got to figure out how 

to get them in one spot. : ) 

To let you all know I'm still writing,

I thought I'd share a heartfelt poem I wrote the other day.

                                         The little girl

          I saw a girl outside today, while she was jumping rope.

          With skinned-up knees and tangled hair, no buttons on her coat. 

          She sang in rhyme and skipped a beat to slapping on the ground.

          And counted as she played the game, abandoned that,

          then found a swing.

          She pumped herself into the clouds, still singing silly songs.

          I knew each word before she spoke, the lyrics loud and strong.

          I took the path she walked to school, now overgrown and small.

          The curves and hills, the rambling creek, no distance here at all.

          I strolled along her daily route and found beneath some trees,

          The tiny house where she had grown, a sacred place

          the girl called home.

           A sagging porch with crumbling steps, through dirty window glass,

           I held my breath and peered inside, a restful peace at last.

           I heard the sound of laughter and felt a swell of love.

           With eyes yet closed, I held her tight.

           The little girl...was me. 

                 

 

Finding inspiration on Pinterest

 

Secondary and minor characters are just as important when writing your novel. Some are merely a doorway into other rooms, glimpses into darker spots we otherwise wouldn't dare face on our own. But with a partner...

And where you find those ideas can be too numerous to mention. For me, things like abandoned houses, quiet woods, and dusty backroads are just some places that stir my imagination.

Pinterest is a great place to find photos. With each book I start, I search for glimpses into the world I'm creating. After all, the beginning is a new idea and seeds are being dropped into hopefully fertile ground. 

Look at the board I created when writing 'Letters From Inside.'

https://www.pinterest.com/tereasabellew/letters-from-inside-the-novel/

This was the first cover I had designed when I won a free cover raffle. I ended up not using it, but it gives you the idea of my character, Carl Jenkins, from my novel, Letters From Inside.

A lonely man, nearly broken from spending years inside. Carl is barely hanging on. And then the unimaginable happens. He receives a perfumed letter from the outside. A spark that strikes an ember in his darkness. The letters become the most important light. 

When he's granted parole, there's only one place in mind. 

He has been given hope. A dream. And nothing will stand in his way. 

There are many other pictures and quotes I've found on Pinterest that I've pinned for inspiration. 

           

 Something like this was probably scratched on his cell wall. 

 FEAR IS A PRISON

There are also boards of my other stories, with places that excite me and trigger my imagination. Feel free to follow me on Pinterest and see the many cool stuff I've added to the board, Letters From Inside-the novel. 

I hope to see you there. : ) 

And don't forget to check out the novel. 

 https://www.amazon.com/Letters-Inside-Teresa-Blue-ebook/dp/B07RYX8TWT/ref=tmm_kin_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1685362051&sr=1-3

Looks who's made parole!!

Carl Jenkins is finally getting paroled!  

  

Carl Jenkins served eight years of a twelve-year stretch before the impossible happened: He is granted his freedom. Parole! The impossible is unfolding right before his eyes!

Freedom.

But what does that mean? To Carl, it means he'll finally have the chance of a lifetime, to pursue the woman of his dreams. The woman who saved his miserable life when he would have ended it was it not for a perfumed letter and its timely arrival.

In less than an hour, he'll be on a bus heading to Berrien. With a measly fifty dollars and a pocket full of dreams. 

                                      

Let's see what he's got to say.

INTERVIEWER: Hey, Carl. Thanks so much for taking a few minutes to, uh, well, spill your guts. I'd like to say I'm happy you're finally going to be allowed on the streets again, but that would be a lie. I mean, like, now we'll have to lock our windows and hide our daughters, right? So, my first question is: when did you start window-peeking at innocent girls without their knowledge? What's the big turn-on in doing something so twisted?

CARL:

Let's see. I probably should break your wrists for that, but then you wouldn't be able to write the answers to my interview. And for some fucked-up reason I want people to know why I am the way I am, ya know? It's my mother. Laughter. It's always the mother, right? Well, my mother was a cunt. She drank with any man in blue jeans, or without 'em for that matter. Most days after school she'd be sitting at the table shit-faced, saggy tits hanging out, lips swollen where she'd been smoozing up to some John. The soured stench of the place was enough to burn my eyes. Turned my stomach, ya know?

INTERVIEWER: Yeah, but was that an excuse to sneak around backyards, creep between hedges, and peek inside bedroom windows?

CARL: It didn't start like that. There was this girl I liked who lived just down the block from my place. Hair as shiny as gold, skin like silk. And a dimple. Cutest thing you'd ever see. When there's no reason to smile at home, you don't see dimples. She was beautiful. Bold as brass. Caught me hunched down outside her window that first time. She raised the damned thing and pulled me in! Right fucking inside! What can I say? I fell in love.

Course, she wouldn't be seen in public with me. So we had to sneak. I'd climb in after dark and we'd hang out. Mostly kissing and stuff. Till she got pissy. So I showed her. After that, it was like, I craved watching normal, everyday life. Chicks in pajamas, hair wet from a shower. Life, ya know? I'd be drawn in by soft lights, rooms with flowery prints on the walls, and innocence etched on their unsuspecting faces.

INTERVIEWER: You crossed the line, though. You did more than a peek into their rooms. You climbed into their lives forever. The detective, Tom Harrington. Tell me about him.

CARL: That dick. He's the reason it took so long to smell the air. It was his sister that got me busted. Dopey, pathetic thing. Not that she wasn't pretty. She was. And it was only one night. Still, he's been sitting front and center at every parole hearing doing his damnedest to keep me locked up. I guarantee he won't stop until he sees me back in the joint!

The cell door squeaks open and the security guard jangles a handful of keys. "Time's up. Jenkins, your ride's here. Less you want your old room back." Sweat glistens on top of the guy's bald head as he walks the door wide and nods. "Move it. I got others waiting to be processed out."

Carl glances over and shrugs. "Looks like our little chat's over. Don't worry. I gotta feeling you ain't heard the last from me." He picked up a plastic bag filled with his personal effects. "If you're anywhere near Berrien, check out the Glass Plate Diner. I hear they got delicious pies and a sweet little waitress. I'm heading there now."

https://www.amazon.com/Letters-Inside-Teresa-Blue-ebook/dp/B07RYX8TWT/ref=sr_1_1?crid=343JZ04FPNPA1&keywords=teresa+blue&qid=1560259506&s=digital-text&sprefix=Teresa+Blu%2Caps%2C139&sr=1-1

Check it out... A brand new cover!

I'm planning to release my romantic suspense soon but was anxious to show off this fabulous cover! I think it captures the essence of the story perfectly! Still fiddling around with the blurb - a few more tweaks to go.

Here's what I have so far...

INSIDE

A convicted rapist out on parole.

A detective determined to put him back in prison.

And an innocent woman caught in the crossfire.

When Tom Harrington is unable to prevent the release of serial rapist, Carl Jenkins, from the state penitentiary, the detective follows him to the small town of Berrien. His reasons are personal - Jenkins was convicted of assaulting Tom's sister. One slight parole infraction will earn him a free ticket back to prison where he belongs.

After eight years in the state penitentiary, Carl Jenkins is deemed rehabilitated. Years of hard time and no visitors earned him the nickname, Solo. Nothing can penetrate the cynical chamber called a heart. Until the smallest ray of warmth enters his cell in a flowery envelope and perfumed paper.

Whispers of dreams long forgotten.

And the hope to become normal.

AND OUT

There's another lure to the sleepy town, the beautiful woman who spent months corresponding with the convict. Linda Wheeler is a mystery to both men. Seeking refuge in a quiet childhood home after tumultuous divorce. She's quickly learning that single parenting is another battle. Her teenage daughter is becoming a rule breaker and eventually winds up on the wrong side of the law. She's determined to keep her daughter from becoming a name and number in the court's legal system. But what Linda doesn't know is that a name has already seeped behind prison walls: her name. And nothing can prepare them for the storm that's coming.

Well? What'd you think?

Whew! Just back from a looooong dry spell

I know, I know. It's been a while. A looong while since I've chatted with you all.
But, like Willie says, "You were always on my mind."

Facebook has gotten a bit boring for me lately so I may find myself here more often.
I have gotten a few new collectibles that I'll definitely be sharing soon. Gotta grab the camera first, and well, you know I can't do everything at once. LOL.



I will leave you with a few pictures.

First: The Loving Tree
captured my imagination years ago on a walk.
Notice how the two wrap lovingly around each other,
locked in a tight embrace forever.

 This one I call
When the cows come Home,
because...well, no other
came to mind.

Kindle Countdown .99 cent sale!!

Hurry! Grab the Man of Her Dreams for under a buck!! 

Excerpt from Man of Her Dreams. 



Stepping into the store was like passing a threshold to another era. The wood screen door slapped softly behind her and the smell of licorice drifted from a glass bin beneath the counter. Dark walnut shelves made up the aisles and were filled with incense, candles, soaps and handmade figurines. Each corner she turned yielded a wicker basket brimming with peanut brittle, pistachios, and cashews. 

Her gaze flew from one wall to another covered with velvet paintings of unicorns, Jesus, and Elvis. Multi-colored whirligigs dangled from the ceiling, spinning wildly despite the fact there was no breeze. The floor squeaked whenever she stepped on a loose board. 

“Awful late to be out driving.” 

The voice came from behind, low and smooth and Leslie eased around to get a glimpse of the owner. Who-la-la… She’d swallowed a gush of air. Tall, dark and handsome didn’t begin to describe the guy standing a few feet away. Her breathing returned, soft, but shaky, and with a tad more control than the gulping fish-mouth a minute ago.

His dark, brooding eyes surveyed her, a slight cleft chin tilted upward a notch. When he smiled, a dimple appeared on the right side of his cheek. It required enormous effort to drag her gaze from the lean, muscular body to look at her watch. 

“Depends on what you call late,” she said, the words sounding suggestive even to her ears as she glanced at her watch. It was only 10:30 p.m. He carried an armload of canned vegetables to a display stand. 

“We usually roll up the sidewalks after supper. And by ten, most hard working folks are in bed.”

             Since she was ogling him, she may as well enjoy the whole package. Broad shoulders, tanned forearms, and strong hands so perfect she nearly stumbled. “Are you Jay?” she murmured.

“I am.”

“Hi. My name’s Leslie. The guy out there said you might have takeout or something?” 

“That right?” He chuckled and she wondered what she’d said that was so funny. Her heart thundered when he stepped around the tower of corn and peas and continued placing one can carefully on top of another.  “If Harvey sold take out it’d probably be cornbread and Northern Beans.”

The image of plump white beans swimming in broth and golden cornbread smothered with butter made her mouth water.  “That sounds good.”

“You’re serious?”

“Just hungry.”
           “I’d be glad to make you a sandwich.”

The sensation of homemade bean soup warming her empty belly quickly zapped and her heart sank. “No white beans or warm bread?”

He shook his head. “Hate to disappoint you.”

A sandwich would have to do. “Turkey?”

“Spam.”

“I’ll pass,” she laughed. “Thanks just the same.” She wandered slowly around the store increasingly aware of his gaze upon her. Not the kind of surveillance to see if she was shop lifting gaze. But the kind from a guy who’s interested in a woman kind of look. Her insides fluttered. The throbbing in her head returned and she reached for a bottle of aspirin. This was so weird. One minute she was planning a wedding and the next, a single woman on a mission, determined to forget the last few hours and start fresh. But first, she needed to get through tonight. Uncle Bob had been divorced five times and claimed the only warmth he needed came from a small bottle of Old Crow he kept stuffed in his hip pocket.  

Leslie grabbed a couple bags of chips, some beef jerky and orange juice then carried the armload to the counter. “I didn’t see any wine. Where—”

“Sorry. You’ll have to wait until Reams opens in the morning.” When he nodded toward the window, threads of black hair spilled onto his forehead. “Down the road and on the right. Has everything you’ll need from bologna and cheese to soap and tissue.”

“Tomorrow?” she said, becoming more frustrated by the minute. All she wanted to do was find the cabin, put on her bathrobe and have a glass of wine. Was that too much to ask?

“At nine.” 

A small carton of novelty bottles sat near the cash register. A variety pack of vodka, whiskey and rum. 

“This’ll do in a pinch,” she said and scooped up a handful. 

A dream catcher suspended from the ceiling twirled gently. Soft turquoise, pink, and gray downy feathers woven around a circle and laced with white leather. The effect was mesmerizing and signified a belief in possibilities, the promise of hope. “Is that for sale?”

“Looking for a little magic?”

Even though he spoke softly, she saw the judgmental attitude behind the casual remark. Seems Mr. Handsome was just like every other man she’d run across, hung up on appearances. Go figure. Would anyone care or remember that tonight Leslie had been knocked flat on her face by a no-good, two-timing cheat? Or that her prince charming turned out to be a toad? If magic could be found in this tiny bottle, she was all for it.

Pasting on her best smile she said, “Isn’t everybody?”

 

I just love sales and I'm super excited to announce my less than a buck countdown is underway
now!


If you've ever needed a dose of magic, the kind best friends deliver, then you're definitely going to want one! Thanks much! Oh, and don't forget to add your own two cents by leaving a review!




http://www.amazon.com/Man-Dreams-Daydream-Believers-Book-ebook/dp/B00LBKD5U0/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1417489640&sr=1-1&keywords=teresa+blue


Check out a what others have been saying about Man of Her Dreams....

“

She weaves an amazing tale with unforgettable characters—hello, Mr. Jingles. ”

Ednah Walters "E.B. Walters

“

Great story - looking forward to reading more by Teresa. ”

Patricia Gordon

Overcoming Adversity with Love! July 27, 2014

By Peregrine

Format:Kindle Edition

The small, rural town of Sleepy Falls is a perfect place to get away from your problems.

Fun and sexy July 21, 2014

By LK reads

Format:Kindle Edition

Teresa Blue's contemporary romance is a fun and sexy romp bringing together a hero and heroine from very different walks of life.

Dusk before dawn...

I was skimming my files and happened across the following passage, a new ending in my novella Night Bird. Written years ago, this is still a favorite story for me.
Although it deals with death and the unknown, it also leans toward the possibilities of something more. That death is not the end, but the beginning..   

*   *   * 

       Heavy clouds shadowed the courtyard like a widow’s cloak, the wind coming inland like a sigh. Rattling chains from a pair of shackles broke the eerie silence as a young man of nineteen was led across the plank floor. Somber steps tread cautiously as if each was his last…and indeed it was.

       The lad tottered precariously upon the rickety scaffold, his thin body shaking from the icy chill that seemed ever-present in the prison. He turned toward the pocked face henchman as a thick noose was placed around his neck. Mind weary and weak from starvation, the lad trembled with a fear of what was to come.

       “Billy Ray, you were found guilty of helping yourself to His Majesty’s stables, thus sentenced to hang for your crimes,” the hangman began in a dreary tone. “Have ye’ any last confessions?” he said, cocking an unruly brow. The jailer’s wide mouth twisted with a mocking smile. “Or any last requests, boy?” His laughter filled the platform and echoed throughout the yard.

        The lad’s shoulders sagged beneath the cumbersome weight of the rope. A gusty wind picked up, howling mournfully, and causing his tattered sleeves and torn britches to whip tight around him outlining the frailness of his body. Billy struggled to remain on his feet. An ugly bruise marred his cheek as the wind tugged at his hair. Even at a distance the scars circling his wrists where the steel manacles had been were visible.

        “Well?” the jailer prodded. “Have ye’ nothin’ to say fer’ yerself?”

Night Bird can be read free on Kindle Unlimited or purchased for .99 cents. 

Check it out. 

Blurb: Travis Howland washes up on the shores of Lost Isle and into the arms of an angel. 

Known as the Night Bird, Emma Samson dedicates her afterlife to a solitary existence of Lost Isle, easing the passage of the dying. When she finds Travis near death and desperate, she gives him a unique gift- a few more days to settle his affairs before his death. 
Sorely lacking in faith, Travis lives life with no thought for the future. When his lovely rescuer claims he has died, he's determined to tie up loose ends. He must warn his father that their ship was plundered by a greedy business partner. Only a leap of faith can save him. 
Together, Emma and Travis use his last hours to avenge the traitorous deeds that torment him, and along the way discover that love can be found at any stage of life...even after death,

https://www.amazon.com/Night-Bird-Teresa-Blue-ebook/dp/B015LDXAK2/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1510405822&sr=1-1&keywords=Night+Bird+Teresa+Blue