A Library Lover's Memories

Library Lover's Month...hmmm...so we're celebrating those that love libraries. I can go for that, especially considering I'm one of those lovers. The quiet, the brightly lit rooms, the smell - oh the smell.

When I was a kid, growing up in Phoenix, the closest library was the big one downtown on Central Avenue - the Phoenix Public Library. It was an all day adventure. Someone would volunteer their mother to drop us off and another mother would pick us up hours later.

The first time was a field trip in grade school and the place was daunting - the building was mammoth, the card catalog huge and I had no idea how to use the Dewey Decimal System. I couldn't wait to go back on my own. The dark green marble floors were shiny, the chairs tucked in nooks and crannies were plush and the librarians so learned. Most of the time I wondered around lost, but I loved it.

Along the sidewalk on the Central Avenue side, huge oranges hung ripe from thickly leafed trees. My cousin Jerry and I decided we had to have one of those oranges. We made a plan. We waited until we saw my aunt pull up to the sidewalk and as we dashed to the car, we grabbed an orange and tucked them into our book bags. Have you ever tried to eat an ornamental orange?

My first book's first library siting!

Once a month, the bookmobile library would come to the A.J Bayless shopping center which was two blocks from my house. The little trailer was jammed with books and didn't allow for more than a couple of kids in at a time. It was crowded and hot, stuffy and fragrant with the smell of books. I loved that traveling library.

In high school, the library was so lacking that trips to the Phoenix Public Library on Central Avenue were still necessary. And the attraction of the place broadened a bit. I didn't have a car but my friend Judy did - a cute powder blue mustang. Cruising Central Avenue in a mustang and stopping for fries and a shake, made going to the library to research a paper worthwhile. The guys hanging out at the library didn't hurt either. No wonder the smell of a book is so sensual!

After I was married, I worked at the army library in Germany. Getting that job thrilled me. The lady that trained me made a great many assumptions about my library knowledge. Little did she know I still didn't understand the Dewey Decimal System. But I didn't care. I roamed around the tiny library and breathed deep. Then the second hour came along. Apologies to all the librarians I greatly admire, but this was one of my most boring jobs. I'm not sure what it says for G.I's, but the place didn't get much traffic. I did get to do a lot of my own reading.

Not having kids at home anymore, I'm not sure how often they get to the library.So much research and reading is done on the Internet now. And I'm not knocking it. I spend a great deal of time on the Internet. There are advantages. But you miss so many things - the librarians, the Dewey Decimal System, the boys and especially the smell. 

Visit Brenda at www.brendawhiteside.com for a complete list of books

Or connect with her on FaceBook: www.facebook.com/BrendaWhitesideAuthor

Thank You for Stopping By

Blogging on Thanksgiving? Well, I have to do something after the table is cleared and the football games are on. And if you're reading this, then you're amusing yourself while the turkey is settling or waiting for pie or, if like me, you just can't watch football. So, I'd like to thank you for dropping in and spending even a few minutes with me.

And to thank you, I'm giving away the very first copy of my e-novelette, Tattoos, Leather and Studs. When I say first - I mean, really FIRST. The story doesn't release until December 4th so this is like a sneak preview for one!

Here's the teaser:

Rachael suspects her date, Jason, is a drug dealer, and she’s torn between her attraction for this hot bad boy and running for safety. But a famous rock star vying for her attention and spiked champagne pose far more trouble. On a blind date she’ll never forget, Rachael learns first impressions can lead her down a dangerous path and straight into the arms of love.

Is Jimmy not a hunk on a motorcycle? You might just want to hop on behind him, bad boy or not.

So leave me a comment and your email address. I'm really excited about giving away this first edition.

Excerpt:

Could this room get any thicker with sweaty, grinding bodies?

The bass blasting out of the speakers on stage reverberated in Rachael’s chest. This had to be unhealthy for her body’s natural electrical impulses.

The rapacious drumming coming from the guy standing at the table next to her grew louder by the minute. Did he think he’d come to a concert or a drum competition? He threw his whole body into his efforts, and she could barely avoid rubbing hips with the man while trying to not bump into her date on her other side.

Rubbing hips with her date would be perfectly fine. Thigh to thigh would be better considering his legs. But they barely knew each other’s names and at this point, good legs or not, his choice of venue and his image still had her wary. Rachael planted her feet firmly, but one particularly hard shove from behind, by a guy trying to dance his way to the bar, sent her sideways into her date giving him full knowledge of her breast size and resulted in a flirtatious smile.

Jason leaned in close, his mouth dampening her earlobe with his words. “I hope you like crowds. Truthfully, I wasn’t prepared for this.”

She could barely hear him above the noise. Practically shouting, she asked, “No? What were you expecting?”

“Something a bit more intimate.”

His emphasis on intimate sent goose bumps between her thighs. Rachael raised one foot and then the other; her high heels cramped her feet. She glanced sideways at the tattoos on her date’s forearms. Her scan included his biceps. He had nice arms, but what did all those strange symbols mean? There were so many of them. She could hear Shelly—Loosen up girl. Stuffy Mark had you in a five-year rut. How true. She used to know how to have fun. Her gaze drifted around the room and back to Jason. But the world changed while she was holed up with stay-at-home Mark.

Jason shifted his arm on the table, muscles and tattoos flexing. Her heart thumped. Had she accepted a date with a bad boy? Could this be her sister’s attempt at pumping up the volume on her otherwise boring life?

His mouth grazed her ear again. “I’m glad you’re with me. Makes the crowd bearable.” He pulled away and smiled, one of those mouth and eye smiles that smacks of sincerity.

Her heart thumped again, obviously telling her something her head couldn’t.

Another bump and this time their contact lasted, Jason’s leg brushing between her thighs. Definitely nice firm thighs. Did he do that on purpose? She didn’t move away. Why was her mind telling her one thing and her body another?

All the way to the theater he couldn’t quit raving over their good fortune—invitation only, small venue, pre-concert show available because of his business contacts. His rant sounded nervous, but he smelled so sensual in his Halston Cologne and smiled so charmingly. And he could talk intelligently about Lautrec. He’d said more than once that he’d been happy she’d agreed to a blind date.

Muscular thighs and Halston—apparently her sister knew what tempted her.

At the break, the decibels dropped to the tolerable roar of the black vinyl crowd. He ran his hand along her spine from her neck to her waist. “Would you like a beer?” Her ink-stained escort screamed louder than necessary in her ear then looked regretful at his faux pas.

She nodded her head, the tingle of his fingertips leaving her speechless so she forgave the eardrum assault. The crowd noise made talking difficult anyway, she reasoned.

His mouth stayed by her ear, his breath tickled her lobe and his fingertips slipped off the edge of her dress and onto the bare skin between her shoulder blades. She caught her breath at the subtly worded, “One more set.” With that he pushed through the crowd.

She glanced toward the bar, caught a glimpse of that gorgeous profile. After the show, she could decide whether to beg off for the rest of the evening or not.

Brenda can be connected with at:
www.brendawhiteside.com
www.facebook.com/BrendaWhitesideAuthor
brenda@brendawhiteside.com
You can find Sleeping with the Lights On wherever e-books or print books are sold.
Look for her upcoming releases:

Tattoos, Leather and Studs coming in Dec 2011

An Elfin Secret and On the Way to the Snow Ball (anthology) in Dec 2011

Honey on White Bread coming Dec 2012

The Morning After coming summer 2012

Listen to the Voices Within

Brenda Whiteside

When I was in the fifth grade, I took on a brave and fearless attitude. I could do anything and be anything I wanted to be. My femaleness would not prevent me from at least trying whatever I wanted. And when I was a child, females were often barred from a great number of things. This attitude drove me to enrolling in auto shop when I got to high school. I wasn’t allowed to take the class, but I sure tried. I stepped over the boundary whenever I could, if it suited me. I think the attitude has served me well, and I owe it to a woman whose achievements were monumental. In all of recorded history there has only been one woman who has held supreme command of a nation’s military forces – and she did it at the age of seventeen. My childhood idol was Joan of Arc, or Jeanne d’Arc.

She was born in 1412, the third of five children to a farmer and his wife in France. Her childhood was spent minding the herds in the fields, learning religion and housekeeping skills. When she was twelve, she began hearing voices. In the beginning they directed her to be a good child, study and work hard. But eventually these voices led her on a journey at the age of sixteen to convince the dauphin of France she was the one to free France from the English and make sure he took the throne.

Oh how romantic! My ten-year-old imagination was so taken with the story. Joan of Arc’s life is well documented in spite of the centuries that have passed since she led her troops against the English. She charged into battle carrying the banner but never killed anyone. The quotes from her and the transcripts of her trial after capture, show a spunky young woman with wisdom and courage beyond her age.

She always considered herself a common person following her destiny. When ladies brought her objects to touch, Joan laughed and said “touch them yourselves. They will be quite as good with your touch as mine.”

Unfortunately, her capture led to her death. She was handed over to a pro-English bishop who tried her for witchcraft and heresy. Joan wore men’s clothing, specially made for her small stature because it was appropriate clothing for the battlefield. Much was made of that and the fact she continued to insist she took her orders from God through the voices of St. Michael, St. Catherine and St. Margaret. No matter what they did to her, she stood her ground.

She attempted to escape several times. They put her in chains because of that. Her response was, “it is true that I wished and still wish to escape, as is lawful for any captive or prisoner.”

Even after being jailed, she continued wearing men’s clothing for protection from rape. Men’s clothing was multi-layered. They would not put her in a women’s prison. Unfortunately, that sealed her fate. When a woman wore men’s clothing, the church considered it a crime against God. After fourteen months of interrogation, she was burned at the stake at the age of nineteen.

“She was perhaps the only entirely unselfish person whose name has a place in profane history.” – Mark Twain

MEN ARE FROM EARTH, WOMEN ARE FROM EARTH. DEAL WITH IT. George Carlin

Romance – what a huge word with more meanings than I can fit in one short blog. What romance is to you may depend on your age, sex, life experiences, imagination and probably even your I.Q., to name a few variables. No two people would totally agree. And the widest chasm will be between men and women.

Nobody will ever win the battle of the sexes. There's too much fraternizing with the enemy.-- Henry Kissinger

In our romance stories, heroes know all the right words to say. They’re strong, yet fragile and certainly in tune to foreplay. And I don’t mean the physical kind, although they’re over achievers there, too. True foreplay starts hours or weeks ahead of time and melts a woman at his feet. Women understand sex and romance are not necessarily synonymous.

I'm always looking for meaningful one night stands.

-- Dudley Moore

As we mature, our view of romance may not change but the gestures that send our hearts soaring may. Flowers gave me flutters as a girl; a single compliment warms me now.

An archeologist is the best husband any woman can have; the older she gets, the more interested he is in her.

-- Agatha Christie

So here’s to romance in all its many forms. Whatever the word means to you, whatever gesture sets the butterflies fluttering, whatever glance sends your heart soaring and whatever caress prickles your flesh with goose bumps – it’s all good.

Sex without love is an empty experience, but as empty experiences go, it's one of the best.

-- Woody Allen

Be sure to check out Brenda’s novel, Sleeping with the Lights On. At fifty, with two marriages behind her, Sandra’s still searching and discovering. And a handsome country crooner may help her with a stalker, a millionaire and a secret admirer.

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Contact Brenda:

brenda@brendawhiteside.com

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Stop! Don't Flush

I’m excited to be a part of the Roses of Prose. I’ve been guest blogging all over the place and now I feel like I’ve found a blogging home. After this introduction, I’ll be here every month on the 9^th and the 24^th so I hope you can join me as often as possible for some fun. I’m not serious very often. When you’re a klutz like me who does things like flush your pedometer down the toilet, you have to laugh at yourself to stay sane.

I’m a desert rat by birth, and until I married a man doing a stint in the Army, my travels outside of Arizona had been limited to California, Nevada and New Mexico. After seeing a bit more of the world those first few years of marriage, I discovered I have a gypsy heart. Now years later, we are in the process of moving for our 24^th time. We’ve lived in 23 homes (owned 7 of them), in 17 cities, 6 states and 2 countries.

I’m blessed with creative soul mates. My husband is an excellent photographer. My adult son who lives out west in the pines with his lady is a singer/song writer with talent unending. And my dog, Rusty, creates joy. After all, he’s the smartest dog in the world.

The only thing I love more than reading is writing. My most recently published novel, Sleeping with the Lights On, is a contemporary romance with suspense and humor. My novels involve women who’ve racked up experience while looking for that perfect life style to suit their adventurous natures; they’re out to discover what life can offer. Love and romance are always part of the brew. Right now, I’m writing the first in a three book series of romantic mysteries and a short for Christmas while searching for a home for my YA Historical novel. My contemporary western novella is almost home. 

Buy Link for Sleeping with the Lights On 

So…number one on my list of likes is writing, number two is reading. Also on my list of favorite things: traveling, motorcycle riding, spending time with my son and his lady, red wine, summer nights sitting on the deck with friends, funny or thriller movies, Mexican food with a killer Margarita, girl days with my sister and/or Mom, hiking, a real wood fire on a winter evening, dancing.

What are a few of your favorite things?

And I love Facebook! Drop in, start a conversation. 

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Brenda's Occasional Blog

The Roses of Prose Where Romance is Never Out of Season, brenda whiteside, and romance, romantic suspense, sleeping with the lights on