My Mind is Traveling More Than I Am by Vonnie Davis

I feel like I've been traveling both physically and mentally since Calvin passed. Lake Marion in South Carolina with my youngest son, DIL, and Ryan at Tina's parents lakeside house was my leaping off point. I've been to Paris to sprinkle some of Calvin's ashes as I promised him. Then onto the Scottish Highlands to visit the areas I've been writing about for the last few years.

The next time I stepped onto a plane it was headed to Boston. I was going to spend three days with my grandson Ryan, a junior at MIT. He was eager to tell me something. Over lobster he'd bought, he told me he's staying on to get a Masters in AI--Artificial Intelligence. His employer, IronNet, is paying for the additional degree He's been with them for two years--fulltime during the summer and part-time during the school year. He loves what he's doing. "Being a Geek is awesome." Ryan is now writing code for a small country in Africa to protect them from terrorists who might try to infiltrate their energy grid and banking system.

We had a grand weekend, hiking over the campus, talking about Shakespeare and current events. We schlepped through the Boston Museum until it closed. Visiting his Frat House where he lives was also on the agenda he'd organized for our time together.

It's located in the Back Bay area of Boston. He has to ride his ten-speed across the Charles River to reach MIT campus. Before we stepped inside, I got this warning. "The first floor is whisper only except for eating time. I want you to see the Study Room. The walls are lined with overflow books from the Boston City Library. You'll see long tables and green table lamps often featured in library scenes in the movies. Oh, and no pictures taking in there, you'll disrupt everyone's concentration. There's a reason our fraternity earned the award for the highest GPA in the whole country." 

Was he for real? This was a frat house. "Toga...toga...toga!"

We walked into a large foyer about twelve feet by twelve, the antique chestnut woodwork gleaming; lemon oil used to polish it fragranced the air. A round interictally carved table sat in the middle. To the right was a huge, book-lined room. Seven students raised their heads in unison, stared at me, and nodded once in acknowledgement before their gazes returned to their laptops. I'm telling you it was darned near creepy scary.

I wanted to tip-toe through that floor for fear my heels would click against the shining wood floors.

The dining room was immaculate, "How many students live here?" Ryan said thirty-five. "Does the Chef--yes, I said Chef--also clean?"

"We all take turns cleaning. Five of us every week, which works out  to about twice a semester." He lifted a shoulder. "Better than at home. There I had to clean my bathroom, my room, and vacuum the upstairs and steps every week." 

On the second floor was a music room with a grand piano and other instruments on shelves. Ryan sat at the piano. "I wrote this just for you, Grandma." He played a classical-sounding piece he'd composed as a semester project for his Musical Technology class (his minor), His professor arranged for the Boston Pops to come to campus to play the piece for the class. He'd titled it "Someone I Can Always Go To" and I bawled like a baby.

"I didn't know you could play the piano," I sniffled.

He grinned. "YouTube, Grandma. You can learn how to do anything there."

My next trip was to Midnight and Magnolias Conference in Atlanta. You know my angst about pitching to agents. Did I even want an agent? Did I want to keep on writing? For that matter, could I even stop? Ah, the emotional travelings of my mind.

Did I want to step back into the stress of writing for publishers or would I self-publish in my own timing?

I received a call from my editor at Loveswept. While on Bookbub and the day after, "A Highlander's Obsession" sold over 2,000 copies each day. So, what was I working on now?

Mercy, did I want to go through this again? Sell or be dropped. I replied to the lady who'd told me I need to dummy down my writing that I'd get back to her.

I decided to toss out a challenge for myself. Depending on how she accepted it would help me decide. So, I emailed her this

Toolbelt Sexy

You know the type, Sue.

Rugged. Hard-working. Alpha. He wears t-shirts strained over hardened muscles, worn jeans that cup his manhood like a lover’s hand, and a quiet expression of determination. Just the sound of his booted footfalls in the other part of your home make you tingle with awareness. Who would guess a toolbelt riding low on a man’s hips could be so sexy, but on these men, it is. Oh yeah, so unbelievably wicked sexy. TOOL BELT SEXY.

Webb

Carlos

Dawson

Each 70-75,000 word book of the Tool Belt Sexy Series is set in a different place. There are few secondary characters. The desire, the passion, and the bumpy ride to their HEA is designed to fulfill the fantasies of romance readers.

She wants the first three chapters of book one. Oh, AND she wants to hear about "Golden Charm," the book more women's fiction than romance I'd pitched to agents at the conference in Atlanta. My chin dropped. How...how did she hear about that? Who had she spoken to?

This was creepier than college students actually studying in a Frat House. 

My editor from HarperCollins emailed me today. "Momma V...I think of you often and hope you're adjusting to the painful change in your life. I just wanted to give you a bit of nice news --Santa Wore Leathers has been selected for the Kindle monthly deal of the month. I'm sorry not to tell you sooner, but we only just found out. Please do shout about it on Social … " 

So, my traveling mind continues to hop about. Decisions made: I'll keep on writing. I can't NOT write. Yes, I'll continue to submit and lick my wounds when I'm turned down or a three-book contract is limited to two because of sales numbers. For sure, I'll continue the self-publishing. I love that level of control.

Oh, and those professional head shots I had taken at Midnight and Magnolias? These are the two chosen from the eight.

Vonnie Davis writes contemporary, paranormal, and romantic suspense.

"Sizzling Romance with a Twist."

At the Lake With Two MIT Dudes by Vonnie Davis #vacation #inovermyhead #greattimes

I'm back home from a week at Lake Marion in Santee, SC. As I mentioned in my last post, Mike, my baby boy (tongue in cheek here), and his wife Tina decided Kelly, his wife Katrin, and I should travel with them for some relaxation after the Celebration of Life for Calvin.

They rented a large SUV that hauled seven--Mike, Tina, Kelly, Katrin, Ryan, me, and Ryan's five-foot telescope to set up on Ron and Debbie's dock.

Ryan positioning his telescope for best night-time viewing.

Oh, and let's not forget packing in everyone's luggage plus Ryan's three laptops, guitar, trumpet, and Kelly's two laptops. The ride down was like MIT on wheels. Kelly did his undergrad degree there. and Ryan is halfway to his undergrad degree in Computer Engineering with a minor in Music technology. As the ride progressed my mind swirled with conversations about bitcoins, string theory, writing computer code, and Kelly's expertise at Mozilla--artificial intelligence. In rapid-fire communication, the two moved onto deep-brain thinking. What the heck is that and where do I learn how to do it?

Calvin would have been right at home. Me? I was in over my head and I'd yet to reach the lake. When I did, some adult beverages would most definitely be in order to clear my mind.

At a local Mexican restaurant--Tina's Dad, Ron, Mike (aka Baby Boy), and Margarita Momma

(note dazed and confused look from ride to Lake Marion). 

The days were filled with zipping up and down three lakes connected by channels in Ron's new boat or walking through historic Charleston just an hour away. Nights brought star and planet gazing. I saw Venus and Mercury. Ryan would play on the trumpet as we sat on the dock. Neighbors in this gated community would cheer and applaud. 

AND I woke up  one morning with a series idea! One that involved a book I've slowly been working on. Getting away and seeing new things really does help the creative bent of the mind. Mine had been in a tight knot of grief. Evidently it's starting to loosen.

I'm hoping my next trip will waken the Muse. Two weeks from now I'll be in Paris. Calvin had told me several times before he got so sick that he wanted some of his ashes sprinkled in a green space in front of 21 rue Galande. He'd lived there for almost a year while on sabbatical in a fourth floor apartment. Kelly thought it was a perfect idea. He's flying in from Berlin so we can do it together. Here's a picture of Calvin in front of the building, reminiscing.

I'm staying in Paris for a week. Since this will probably be my last trip there, I have a few art galleries I want to meander through.  Once I leave there, I'm flying to  Edinburgh, Scotland. After writing six books set there, I figure it's about time I got a look at the country. All my research has been done online or in travel books. Finally, I'll get to see the real thing. I've got day trips booked for the Highlands, a whisky distillery with a wee bit o' tastin', and Loch Ness. If my energy holds up, I want to take a train ride to Glasgow and check it out. Aaaaad a day at the Highland Games where guys in kilts do "manly stuff." Mainly because a woman would have more sense.

Since Edinburgh is home of the deep-fried Mars Bars, I'll be forced--forced, mind you--to eat a couple. All the while, I'll be soaking up sights, customs, and local color for future bear shifter books. Och, aye.

To read more about my writing, go to www.vonniedavis.com or follow me on Facebook. Vonnie Davis is the name...writing is my game.

When Your Grandson Asks About Your Homework ... by Vonnie Davis

Last month I posted about all I had going on in my writing world. Well, I've made some progress on my list. Believe me, it's not necessary to applaud.  What I've done are small steps we all do during the course of our career.

I've contracted Mr. OH under the name Renae DeVeau and our own Alicia will be my editor. Pray for her, folks. It's my first erotic.

I self-published NIKO: Licensed to Kill on April 25th. JEAN-LUC: Once is Never Enough releases on June 13th. I still have BASTIAN: The Spy Who Loves Me to finish. I'm two-thirds through, maybe more. I'm hoping to release it the end of August or the first half of September.

That only leaves A STRANGER'S DARE, a Kindle World's novella, a novel--A GOLDEN CHARM, and two bear shifter books to finish. Oh...and...two more Kindle World's novellas I've been asked to write. A cowboy romance set in Texas--yee-haa!--WHAT BELONGS TO RYDER. My street team chose the heroic cowboy's name--Ryder Kolins.

The third Kindle World's project is a paranormal tied into my shifters. Title for it is BEARY SASSY. Pink-haired Effie plays a matchmaking role in this story.

See how much progress I've made? Three things done and two things added. That's good. Right?

So I'm doing my Friday texting time with Ryan at MIT. "How's the writing going, G-ma? Are you finished with the one for Amazon?"

"I'm over halfway done."

"That's all?" (I cringed. There's nothing like getting fussed at by your grandson.) "I've got all my required work completed for my Internship on the 2020 Mars Land Rover. I gave a report to representatives from NASA. What I'm doing now is extra." (Show off.)

"That's awesome, sweet boy." My nickname for him since he was an infant.

"G-ma, you really should have more of this project completed. I notice you spend a lot of time on Facebook and Twitter." I could sense the censure in his text. (And how would smarty pants know if he wasn't on Facebook and Twitter, himself, I ask you?)

"You know I hate a smart a$$ scientist."

"Hahaha. See if you can't do better next week." (So much for the Final Exams care package I was going to send him. I'll eat the chocolate, energy bars, and homemade trail mix myself!)

Me thinks I've been put on notice and I'll need the nourishment.

An Unconventional Conversation

--By Vonnie Davis

As I "may" have mentioned before, my grandson is a freshman at MIT this year. While he’s never read any of my books, he does ask what I’m writing about now. Since I write on the very steamy side, I’m pleased his level of interest stops at this point.

On a recent Saturday night, Ryan and several students were hanging out in the common area of their dormitory, discussing parallel universes and the possibility of life in other forms or on other planets. Ry mentioned his grandma writes books about bearshifters.

The guys started asking him questions, so he sent me a text. "G-Ma...in your bearshifter books, how do you describe the transformation from human to bear? Reply ASAP. The guys want to know." At the time I was working on my latest shifter book, so I copied the first shifter scene into a text.

Well, that only fueled their imaginations. More questions followed.  "Where do you get your data? Do you just like think of this stuff 'cause it could so totally happen. Oh, one of the guys wants to know if you're friends with J.K. Rawlings."  Bwahahaha! 

I replied. Then Ryan called. Texting was too slow. He put me on speaker phone. I could hear kids with various accents asking questions. Did I write time travel? Did I get into parallel universes? (thank God they never brought up sex!) I told them to write and read paranormal, one had to stop thinking linear like you do when working on a calculus problem or a physics proof. You had to think sideways. Allow all the “what-if’s” to come into the equation of creativity.

Their excitement ramped another notch. Yes! They got this concept. Go figure! All the while I'm thinking, the yearly tuition to go here is $69,000 and you're talking about bearshifters with a romance author? Your parents would flip out if they knew! 

A couple of the guys talked in Japanese and were reminded to speak English. I’d taken Japanese when I went to college in my forties. I replied in their language, hoping I was pronouncing things correctly, giving them a touch of home, and not saying something like, "Your mother smells like a pool of dead fish." Wouldn't that just be the luck?

"Dude! Your grandma speaks Japanese, too? She's uber cool." Whew, remove foot from Japanese stumbling mouth. 

Bearshifters. You never know what's going to grab kids. We talked for almost an hour. Grandma and MIT students. An unconventional conversation.

Complete change of topic. I've self-published my first book, published five years ago. I spruced it up a little and had a new cover put on it.

AMAZON BUY LINK: http://a.co/1YlLvlT

Also, releasing today is a Christmas novella for .99. Part of it might sound familiar since it was in my Holiday story that began "A phone ringing at two am, never brought good news." I changed it a lot, but the reason for the title is still in the story.

AMAZON BUYING LINK: https://amzn.com/B01LLZWUWI

TO LEARN MORE ABOUT MY WRITING, GO TO MY WEBSITE, www.vonniedavis.com. Sign up for my Newsletter while you're there.

Changes Make Us Grow by Vonnie Davis

As you read this, I'm at Mount Saint Mary's College in the mountains of Thurmont, Maryland for my grandson's high school graduation. Evidently Oakdale High School wasn't big enough to hold all the parents and grandparents, their heads swollen with pride for their loved one's big day--graduating from high school.

Ryan will graduate at the top of his class. For the past year, he's been working as an intern at the branch of the American Cancer Institute at Camp Detrick, slicing cancer cells and removing the nucleus and also working with DNA. In the evenings, he tutors six students in calculus and physics. He also took second place in the state in wrestling. He'll be attending MIT in the fall.

Changes. So many. And, in a way, so fast.

I worry about my son, Mike. He was a single dad with custody from the time Ry-man, as he called him, was 17 months old until he was 8 when Mike remarried. Ryan has always been at the top of his priority list and wife number two, bless her heart, loved that about her husband. How will he handle the empty nest? I suppose the same way we mothers have for eons as our little ones leave the nest to try out their wings. Tina, who could never have children, is not looking forward to Ryan's leaving either. She's been an excellent step-mom. Both Mike and Ryan needed her when she entered the force field of their lives. She changed them both--for the better.

But not all changes are good, are they?

Take my upcoming series about wounded warriors--"Black Eagle Ops." Men and women changed by war. They need healing, both physically and mentally. Book one--HER SURVIVOR--releases next month.

Each book in the series begins with a similar Prologue...
      In the Hill Country of Texas, a community developed around an old Apache legend—wounded warrior falls. Myth or truth, the story has been handed down, generation to generation, that the rocks in Warrior Falls carry magical healing powers. Wounded Apaches would stand or be carried beneath the waterfall for the healing-infused water to flow over them.
       Over time, the small town, Warrior Falls, has grown to a population of six-thousand. Its few streets boast shops, restaurants, and supply stores kept afloat by the townsfolk and nearby ranchers. Many of these businesses are owned and operated by quirky, yet salt of the earth characters who love their town just the way it is. That’s why the deep secret of Warrior Falls is so closely guarded.
        This is Dustin Frank’s (Dust’s) story.


Pre-order at Amazon: https://amzn.com/B0174PTMU2
Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/her-survivor-vonnie-davis/1122885268?ean=9781101967928

When a Writer Has Nothing to Say by Vonnie Davis

I'm writing this on Super Tuesday. So politics are on my mind. I don't appreciate others shoving their political views down my throat. In like manner, I'm not shoving mine down anyone else's. We're all smart enough to make up our own minds.  'Nuff said there.

My cover for Her Survivor is finally up on Amazon. It's book one of my "Black Eagle Ops" series and releases in July. I was so tickled to see my hero make his splash on the empty listing, it took me a few seconds to realize there was another coverless listing. For book two--Hers to Heal. The one I'm still writing! Panic set in and my fingers have been furiously kissing the keyboard ever since. I wrote slightly over 2000 words today. Maybe I'll get a few hundred more written before bedtime. I thought of part of a scene while I was supposed to be taking my pre-dinner nap. Yes, this old bird has reverted to some behaviors from childhood, like naptimes.
But I don't want to talk about the "A" word.

As soon as I finish this post, I'm critiquing ten pages for an author friend who has a novella she wants to submit. I think I edit more than critique. I worry the overall theme is a little dark, but I'm not in the mood to talk about that either.

What would I like to talk about? Weddings! My oldest granddaughter's wedding is June eleventh, two weeks after she graduates from college with a double major in Psychology and Criminal Justice. Odd, really. It was just a few years ago I helped deliver Eleni. The doctor was running late and little Eleni Elizabeth--five weeks premature--couldn't wait to get here to boss her two big brothers around. The nurse ordered me to put on a pair of latex gloves and I did. What an experience! My Sugar Dumplin' weighed in at five pounds. An hour later, I stood at the nursery window watching the pediatrician and nurses hovering over Eleni's incubator. Not that I'm nosy, mind you, but I slipped in to hear what was going on with my grandbaby. She wasn't breathing right and they were discussing whether to airlift her to a larger hospital. "I'll be riding along," I said nonchalantly. The pediatrician whipped around and asked me who I was. "I'm the grandma. I go where she goes." I pointed to the incubator while the nervy doctor pointed to the nursery door. I stared; she glared. The nurses suited me up and allowed me to touch Eleni and talk to her. Before long her breathing regulated. I took credit, of course, much to the irked doctor's annoyance. I sent Sugar Dumplin' a check for her wedding gown and veil. All I asked was that she not tell me one thing about it, so I can't even talk about that. Sigh. See, I want to be blown away when I see her ready to walk down the aisle (Investment tip: Buy stock in Puffs tissues!).

My grandson, Ryan, qualified for States in wrestling. The tournament is this coming weekend. He's on my mind, too. Ryan is a goal-setter. At the end of every summer vacation, he sets goals for the coming school year. This year, they were to get all A's, be admitted to MIT, and win a medal at States. He's an over-achiever, yet a gentle kid with a quirky sense of humor. I wouldn't want to say he was raised to be a wrestler, but here he is shortly before his second birthday pinning Wile E. Coyote. Last year he got a B in Honors English and called me, heartbroken. I told him I was glad. He paused. "Why?" I told him I was glad he'd missed his anticipated A and had to face he wasn't perfect. "We're all human, Ry-man (okay, so I'm a nickname freak, it's a sickness, I tell you). We don't always reach the goals we set. The secret is to never give up, to keep trying." His one and only B didn't hurt his admission to MIT. All I wish for him this coming weekend is that he win at least one match. Okay, maybe two, but I won't talk about that. Grandmas can be SO boring.

 

Next time I blog, I hope I have something to say. Follow me on Twitter on @VonnieWrites. Tell me, what do you have to say today. It has to be more interesting than my rambling.