My Highland Spy - Best Historical and Best Book of the Year!

The clan and I recently returned from New Orleans, LA where My Highland Spy was awarded the 2014 BTS Book Reviews Red Carpet award for Best Historical and Best Book of the Year! 

I was so elated, especially being surrounded by my family, sister, and cousin. For those of you who don't know this already, my son kilts up for all my book signings and events. The BTS awards were no exception. 

When the BTS peeps called my name for Best Historical, I was escorted by a cover model onto the red carpet and then to the stage. After accepting the award, the verra nice cover model escorted me back to my seat where my waiting son was not happy. As soon as my butt hit the chair, my son leans over and says, "I'm really mad. Why does that guy have to escort you? That's my place. I'm with you for every signing and event. This is our thing, not his. I'm walking you down the aisle if you win again."

I explained to my son that the cover model was escorting everyone to the stage and that was his job. My son was disappointed and only replied as 10 year old boys do with a "I don't care..."

So it's the final award of the night for Best Book of the Year. BTS peeps call my name. The cover model approaches me again and escorts me to the stage. I accept the award and take the cover model's arm to return to my seat. I gazed at the ground for a moment, trying not to trip in my heels (that would be humiliating!) 

When I lift my eyes, my wee lad is waiting for me by the stage on the red carpet. I now have the cover model to my right and my son to my left. My little man takes my arm and escorts me back with the cover model on the other side. When we get to the table, my son whispers, "I told you that I don't care if he's a cover model or not. That's my job. Besides, in a few years, I'll be able to take him out." lol I was laughing so hard I was crying. 

It was a great night, and I'm so glad that I got to share it with my family, especially in New Orleans.

Two Years and Passing

I know many of you have seen me post this picture of my mom before, but this particular pic captured one of my favorite moments with her so perfectly. We were so happy and had such a great time in California.

It's hard to believe my mom passed away two years ago today. She lost a three month battle with breast cancer. Everyone told me the pain would be easier to bear, but truth be told, there is still not a single day that goes by that she isn't in my thoughts. Don't get me wrong, I'm not sitting for hours on end in the depths of despair, but I do think about her every day, even if only for a moment or two. 

My mom was the strongest woman I knew. In fact, my sister and I used to tell her that she was one tough bitch. lol When she passed, there was no funeral because the last thing the woman desired to be was mourned. Instead, she wanted everyone to celebrate her life. She was a class act up until the end. Many years ago, our elderly neighbor had passed away and his family held a good old-fashioned Irish wake. Although we weren't Irish, that was my mom's wish. How could we possibly refuse such a request?

We threw her a "Celebration of Life" party. Pictures of my mom's life played on a big screen, Motown (Mom's favorite) played in the background, and we knew she would've been proud. We had her friends and family come up to a podium and tell their favorite stories and memories of her.

I thought posting the speech I had written for her party would be fitting for today. 

* * *

Although I feel a tremendous loss upon the death of my mother, I am thankful that she lived to see her daughter's marry, have children of their own, and she had an opportunity to know her grandchildren. My mom was here for every major event in my life, except one.

As most of you already know, my first novel will be released in September. Even though Mom passed away before she was able to share this new adventure with me, I am comforted by the fact that she read my first two books—which leads me to an interesting story.

For anyone who knew my mom, the woman was a fan of suspense and mystery-related works. You know, anything from Stephen King to James Patterson. Needless to say, she was not a fan of romance novels. In fact, if one of her favorite authors wrote something remotely close to a scene of an intimate nature, everyone knew Mom paged through the book until she cleared the pages of passion. She'd often say, "I get it. Move on."

When I e-mailed her my first manuscript to read, she called me four hours later and the phone call was sort of like this.

"I finished your manuscript."

There was a heavy silence.

"Once I got through all the romance crap, I could not put it down. Dad came home and I even told him to be quiet until I was done reading it. I have no idea how you did it and kept everything straight. I really enjoyed it. Oh, and I even read the 'intimate' scenes and did not have to page ahead. It was really well-written. You tell a good story."

Now after Mom read my second novel, the conversation was a little different. You see, my hero was a complete rogue who had been known to share many a bed. Mom proceeded to tell me that one of my scenes needed beefed up because if my hero was that much of a rogue, he should be able to go all night long. After I stopped laughing, she went on to say that she'd like me to change the fate of my heroine's mother because she couldn't stand her. I believe Mom's words were something like "she needed to get what was coming to her."

Mom was so incredibly proud of me for this new adventure. On the last day she was fully conscious and lying in the hospital bed, I tried to convince her not to leave us. As any selfish daughter would do, I tried to say anything to keep her here and blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"You can't leave. You promised you'd be here for my book signing," I said, tears welling in my eyes.

She reached over the rails of the hospital bed and grabbed both my hands. "I will be there. I promise. Always."

I knew she meant in spirit form and Mom was so feisty that I knew she'd be there, too. There are really no words that can accurately portray how I feel about losing my mom. I do know that a part of her will always live in me, pushing me to be better. It is with a heavy heart that the ones left behind must continue to live, but Mom would expect nothing less. She wanted her life to be celebrated and not mourned. She wanted a party and not a funeral. And she wanted everyone to remember her with a gentle fondness and to be able to give her a heartfelt goodbye.

* * *

In loving memory of Rita L. Spak, an autographed copy of X Marks the Scot (Mom's favorite bad boy) and a Bad Boys of the Highlands t-shirt is up for grabs to one lucky commenter. Winner will be chosen on Friday, February 28th.

What's the funniest thing your mother ever did or said? My mom and I had a food fight with Boston Cream pie.

'Tis the Season for Making Holiday Memories

Can you feel it?

The holiday spirit is definitely in the air. With the cold winter temperatures, fresh snow, children laughing, people passing...wait, that's a Christmas song, but I think you get the picture. Nothing says the holidays like family being together for the season.

Although my son is eight and my daughter thirteen, I still find joy in watching them open their gifts on Christmas morning. My husband starts a fire, turns on all the Christmas lights, makes coffee and hot chocolate and turns up the Christmas carols all before the kids are allowed downstairs. My daughter taps her fingers with impatience while my son shakes his legs in excitement as they sit at the top of the stairs and ask for the millionth time, "Can we come down yet?" I wouldn't trade those memories for anything in the world. I fondly remember my parents doing the same thing and proudly pass down the tradition to my own kids. As I think back to holidays past, one of the most romantic things EVER was with my pre-husband over twenty years ago on Christmas Eve.

Mr. Roberts grew up on a horse farm. We just had a fresh blanket of snow, and the man was bound and determined to make our first Christmas together a memorable one. This was also the first Christmas I didn't make it home for the holidays and needless to say, I was feeling a little down. He told me to wait in the house as I watched him through the window walk out to the barn. I had no idea what he was doing out there because he was gone forever.

To my surprise, Mr. Roberts emerged from the barn with a horse-drawn sleigh complete with sleigh bells. He pulled up to the house, put the horse in "park," and climbed down from the sleigh. He walked around and held out his hand, assisting me into the sleigh. He reached over and covered me with a heavy woolen blanket, and then he gave me a smile that would melt the winter snow. *sigh*

I was thankful when he left my side and sauntered around the sleigh because I definitely needed time to compose myself. He picked up the reins and leaned closer. "Merry Christmas," he whispered as he leaned in for a kiss. *another sigh* We rode through the fields and then took to the streets, sleigh bells jingling...wait, I think that's a song too, but who cares? You get the picture.

I have no idea why I write about Highlanders when I have a cowboy for a husband. To tell you the truth, Mr. Roberts doesn't have an answer either, especially since he's 100% German.

No matter what holiday you celebrate, I wish everyone a safe and happy season filled with love and laughter. May you all find a Highlander/cowboy of your own.

A Book, a Heroine and a Baby

Friday, September 13th, I received the most memorable news ever. 

It all started with a book. This book.

To Wed a Wicked Highlander is the latest release in my Bad Boys of the Highlands series. Of course I was absolutely thrilled when Laird Alexander MacDonell and Lady Sybella MacKenzie were given a TOP PICK from RT Book Reviews and Night Owl Reviews. Who wouldn't be? I was completely honored to be recognized for my latest novel. But imagine my surprise when I received the following message from a reader:

"I wanted to tell you that I LOVED To Wed a Wicked Highlander, as I knew I would. I let my sister-in-law read it and she fell in love with Sybella. Two hours ago, she had my beautiful niece, Sybella Marie. Thank you for your amazing stories. She named her after your heroine, and she fell in love with the name and the character. I love your work and I fall in love with every hero and heroine. I reread every one of them so many times and they are some of my most beloved treasures."

My jaw dropped, my heart thumped, and I couldn't believe the words I'd just read. A reader...named her first born...after my heroine! In my opinion, there was no greater honor for an author to receive. I was completely humbled. I still am. 

So without further ado, allow me to introduce you to the beautiful Sybella Marie. And yes, her family calls her Ella, the same as Lady Sybella. Isn't she adorable? 

Congratulations, Letha! Hugs to you and your family.

    

Sun, Sea, Sand, and a Rum and Coke? Seriously?

Greetings! The clan and I recently returned from a fabulous Christmas vacation to Riviera Maya, Mexico. We traveled with my dad and my sister and her family for a grand total of eight! Yep, a good old-fashioned Griswald family Christmas.

I was never away from the States for the holidays before and the trip was definitely an experience. But I have to admit, it was kind of odd not to have the dreary gray skies or snow. Instead, we were blessed with 85 degree weather, white sandy beaches and palm trees. This was pretty much my view every day under the cabana with an umbrella drink in hand.

This fair-skinned beauty only comes with two shades--white or red. I do not tan. I burn. The bird didn't seem to mind my company though.

The staff tried to make everyone feel at home and the resort was decorated with all-things Christmas.

This vacation was my daughter (twelve years old) and my son's (seven years old) first trip to Mexico. My tweeny pretty much rolls with anything, but my son--well, let's just say he's still at that impressionable age. Which brings me to the case in point.

The little lad played in the sand, minding his own business, when he spotted a topless woman on a lounger (the only woman on the entire beach sporting such nothingness.) His eyes widened, his jaw dropped and oh, boy...we knew it was coming.

"Where is her top? She doesn't even have a bra on!" he shouted.

We sat down and explained how some people in Europe go to the beach "natural" and I thought I had handled the situation like a seasoned pro. Then I politely added, "If it bothers you, just don't look."

Again, the little jaw dropped and my beloved son replied, "Of course I'm going to look. I'm a boy!" 

Hauling my great parenting skills to dinner that night, the entire clan had a drink beforehand at the bar. A round of drinks were ordered and my son was the only kid who wanted anything--a Coke. We sat around and waited for our name to be called for the reservation when my son came up to me and held out his glass.

"There is something totally wrong with this Coke."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

 "Taste it," he said, scrunching up his little face.

"No wonder it doesn't taste right. They gave you a rum and Coke."

"I had a rum and Coke? This vacation is awesome! I can't wait to tell my friends!"

Can you imagine this parent's nightmare? What is he going to tell his friends and teachers? I saw a naked lady and drank a rum and Coke!

We had a wonderful time, especially the kids. lol And the first day we were home, we awoke to a beautiful sunrise and four inches of snow.

A Thanksgiving Letter

There is nothing like the love between a mother and daughter. And today I discovered that even more. 

My eleven year old daughter came into my bedroom and said, "I wrote this in class. I thought you should have it." She handed me a letter written in her own hand and then simply left the room. 

I sat down on the bed and read... and cried. This is what she wrote for class and nothing has been edited.

October 18, 2012

Has someone in your family ever become an author? Well, mine has. My mother. It's pretty cool being a daughter of an author. Here is how my normal Mom became a published author.

She started reading books that her friend was giving her to read. She then got inspired. So she started by just taking some notebook paper and writing a short story. Little did she know that this story would land her a three-book deal.

My mom started to think that she might have a chance to be published. She worked really hard every night and was writing and writing. It took her four years to write her book. She started talking to publishers and seeing if they were interested in her book. Then one day she got a call. She was an author.

I was so happy for her when I found out. We went out that night and celebrated. Then she told me some more good news. She not only was an author but got a three-book deal. I didn't know how to express myself. She worked so hard to accomplish this much. My happy meter exploded because I was just so happy.

Right now, in the present time, my mother has published two books. She is now done with her third book and editing it. She has a lot of famous friends, like Nora Roberts. She always orders cookies when she goes to a book signing to interest people in her books. I help her a lot with giving her ideas and my opinions on her books. Even my little brother helps. He wears a kilt (man skirt) because my mom writes historical romance. Everybody says he's so cute.

The incident affected me a lot. I could never be so proud to say I am Victoria Roberts's daughter. She has a great imagination and personality. I hope you enjoyed my story on how an ordinary mom could become a famous author.

Happy Halloween

Happy Halloween!

What a wonderful time of year. Not only do our little ones get to dress up and get truck loads of candy, but it's my birthday today. I love having my special day today. As a kid, it was always so much fun. Candy, birthday cakes, costume parties, and plenty of laughs and scares to go around. 

The picture above is my daughter in first grade. She had that beautiful bride outfit when she took dance lessons, and then transformed it into her own design. Yep, that was all her idea. She frightened other kids, scared the living-daylights out of her teacher, and her father and I just shook our heads. Kids. She had a blast.  

From there, she was Freddie Kruger.

Yep, that's my baby! My precious first-born.

This year my son is going as a Navy seal and my daughter as a basketball player-go figure. What about your kids? What's the biggest costume trend this year?

Release Day

It's finally here. Release day for Temptation in a Kilt.

As I unleashed my new baby into the world, I took a step back, realizing my emotions were so out of whack. Frankly, I don't know how debut authors do it. How can one feel excited, thrilled, joyful and scared to death all at the same time? Seriously. If anyone knows, please fill me in.

"Get a grip, Roberts." That's what I keep telling myself over and over.

I know one thing for certain. My heart and soul went into this book and I hold my head high with pride. It touches me dearly when a reader takes the time to send me a personal note to tell me how much this book touched them. And you know what? That one reader makes it totally worth the ride. 

I'd like to thank the following people for their support.

Sabrina Jeffries, for making me realize it’s never too late to try something new.

Hannah Howell, for her support while I was bogged down in synopsis hell.

Eliza Knight, for giving me the courage to put myself out there.

To my agent, Jill Marsal, for her endless support and encouragement.

To my editor, Deb Werksman, for giving me a chance.

To my critique partner, Mary Grace, there are really no words to express the tremendous amount of gratitude I hold for you. All those times I ruffled your feathers about having your nose planted in a book, even when you walk… For your brutal honesty and endless reads, your unwavering support and encouragement, these Bad Boys came to life. Thank you for believing in me.
 

To my family, for their unwavering support and dedication to this Bad Boy. For my son, who understood at such a young age that Mommy was editing. For my daughter, the only Gaelic-speaking lass in the fifth grade. And for my husband, who makes dinners countless nights. I could not ask for a more encouraging bunch. I love you all, and you have my heartfelt thanks and appreciation. I could have never done this without you. 

  

Mom, Dad and Michelle, thank you for believing in me. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about you or miss you, Mom. I hope I made you proud.

 

Thanks for helping me spread the word, and I'm raising a cyber glass of champagne to all of you.

RT Book Reviews and a Whisper of Faith

The clan and I recently returned from a much needed vacation at Myrtle Beach, SC. If you're like me, getting back into the working groove can be somewhat grueling. While I was beach bound, I took my laptop to check e-mails because nothing irks me more than coming back from a break with 200 e-mails to sort through. Grr...

As a debut author, everything is new for me. Between working through editorial comments, copy/edits, galleys, ARC's (Advance Reader Copies) sometimes it's a little unnerving because you don't know what to expect. Since Temptation in a Kilt is virtually ready to go for its September 1st release, I now swim the uncharted waters of editorial and reader reviews. That being said, when I received an e-mail from Sourcebooks on vacation and they advised me that RT Book Reviews posted a review of Temptation in Kilt, my eyes widened, I literally froze and my stomach knotted tighter than a kid caught with his hand in a cookie jar.

I read the following caption from my publisher. 
RT Rating: 4 Star Review
"Roberts' debut novel will charm fans of Scottish romance. Her love of Scottish history and Highland heroes is quite evident in the fast-moving plot. Well written, full of intrigue and a sensual, believable romance, this book captivates the reader immediately. Definitely an author whose next book will be eagerly awaited by her readers."

My family was thrilled. My sister and brother-in-law were so excited and my Dad's eyes bordered on tears. He gave me a hug and said, "Your mother would be so proud of you."

Thoroughly ecstatic, I truly thought that was the end of it. Imagine my complete surprise when I started getting e-mails from my chapters telling me I was in September's issue of RT Book Reviews. I assumed it was the review that Sourcebooks told me about and gave polite thank-you's to my writing clan. When one of my chapter sister's said that I polluted the pages of RT in a good way, I rushed out to Barnes and Noble and bought the latest issue.

It all started on page 17 where I was listed in First Books in a New Series Launch.

Victoria Roberts
BAD BOYS OF THE HIGHLANDS
Temptation in a Kilt

That was awesome. Who doesn't love seeing their name in print? As I scrolled through the magazine, my breath hitched on page 32.

The top section indicated my RT review rating, 4, Victoria Roberts, TEMPTATION IN A KILT, 9781402270062, Sourcebooks. I thought that was sort of neat and then I glanced down.

OMG! Is that MY book cover in the corner? WHAT is going on?

The caption says, "K.I.S.S. (es) for SEPTEMBER Knights in Shining Silver."

Among the heroes of Tessa Dare, Eloisa James, Kieran Kramer, Anna Randol, Nina Rowan, Sara Luck, and Margaret McPhee is me, Victoria Roberts. There were cute captions such as "Eloisa James' James Ryburn knows a confident woman isn't The Ugly Duchess."


I kept reading to find "Victoria Roberts' hero, Ciaran MacGregor, embodies honor, sensuality and Temptation in a Kilt."

OK. By this time, I'm jumping up and down. I didn't know this was going into the magazine. And then came page 38.

Tears strolled down my cheeks and all I could say was, "I did it, Mom!"

To some, this may seem trivial. To me, it meant the world. I finally found myself on this side of 40-ish. The memory of my mother on her deathbed holding my hand and talking to me about my book, so proud, so loving, telling me she would be there for me. Always. It touched a special place in my heart. So this is for you, Mom! 

In honor of my first good review and in memory of my Mom, I will give away a signed ARC and a Bad Boys of the Highlands t-shirt to one random commenter. Just tell me your favorite memory of your mother. Winner will be announced Monday, August 6th. (US and Canada only, please.)

Happy Father's Day

That's my Dad. Yep, coming out of the outhouse that my uncle used to own in Tionesta, PA.

Many of you know that this has been a traumatic year for me and my family. With the death of my mother in February, there isn't a day that goes by that we don't think of her. With Father's Day approaching, it makes me appreciate my Dad that much more.

I have a lot of fond memories of my Dad spending time with my sister and me, but the one which stands out is our annual trip to my uncle's camp in Tionesta. Believe me, this was truly a camp, a hunter's lodge. No running water which meant no shower, no toilet, no TV, no phone, no comforts of home. If we needed water, my sister and I carried a huge jug down to the spring well and carried it back. If we needed to wash our hair, we walked down to the spring. If we had to go to the bathroom, we went to the outhouse. Ick!

The camp's musty smell grew on you like a second skin. We had to pack our clothes in garbage bags because luggage would be ruined. Note: One time my Dad actually packed the garbage from home instead of his clothes, but that's another story! The kitchen and living room were connected with only a center island between them. Eerie magazines (horror comics) rested in the corner basket. Over the couch was a huge picture-puzzle that took up the entire wall. One bedroom with two queen beds shot off from the kitchen. Yep, that was it! In fact, when you pulled into the camp, there was a sign nailed into a tree that said, "Camp. This is it!"

We sat for countless hours at the center island playing cards, normally UNO. My Dad would crack jokes, poke us and make us laugh. He taught us how to fish and even though I never wanted to bait my own hook, he was forever patient and never complained about doing it. He ensured that my sister and I had a great time. And we always did!

Down the road was a very small animal habitat with deer, raccoon, rabbits and Rosie and Jiggs. Rosie and Jiggs were two black bears that we never failed to stop and visit.

My uncle's camp was the last camp at the bottom of the hill and sat next to a heavily wooded area. Bears have been known to visit. Sometimes at night, my Dad would light a bonfire and we would cook hot dogs or roast marshmallows. If I close my eyes, I can still hear the fire making popping noises into the night and smell the smoky wood and crackling leaves. I can still see the glowing embers floating up into the tall, dark pine trees. 

I'll never forget the fun times we had there. And even though it didn't have any amenities, my Dad made it a place for a wonderful family gathering.

What was the best memory you have of doing something with your father?

Celebrating the Sale of the Bad Boys of the Highlands Series

In celebration of the recent sale of my Bad Boys of the Highlands series, I treated my three biggest fans to dinner at a local Scottish pub. My daughter, CP and Beta all joined me for a wonderful treat at Piper's Pub.

We started our enjoyable evening by my CP's recommended appetizer of Scotch Eggs. A hard boiled egg was encased in sausage, breaded and then deep fried. I almost forgot. It was served with hot sauce. I felt my cholesterol rising before I even took a bite, but it was so good. 

 The atmosphere was loud as you would expect from a pub, but that didn't stop me from toasting my three favorite gals for their unwavering support. I passed out gifts to all of them, including the necklace pictured to the right for my beautiful daughter.

The food was wonderful and plentiful. How could you go wrong with the traditional corned beef, cabbage and potatoes?

Not to mention the Beef Shepherd's Pie.

We topped off this hearty meal with a Scottish ice-cream sandwich. This delicious morsel consisted of vanilla ice-cream surrounded by Scottish shortbread and topped with a chocolate, raspberry, butterscotch and blueberry sauce.

Even though we will not eat for a week, a great time was had by all. It's fun to celebrate with friends and family. My heartfelt thanks go out to these three who have been and continue to be my biggest supporters.

How do you celebrate a special occasion with family or friends? 

 

Shh... Don't Tell Him!

As I get older (not that much older) I have learned to appreciate the innocence of youth. Frankly, I miss it. In today's crazy world where our children are forced to mature much more quickly, I yearn for the blissful unawareness of being young. No longer can our children spend the entire day outside tossing the ball with friends. When darkness falls, they better be inside. Who knows what predators are lying in wait?

My son is six and my daughter is ten. Every day, I try to protect them, keeping the world full of rainbows and wishes. On occasion, the darkness creeps in and we have no choice but to deal with it. But on the bright, sunny days when it doesn't... I am reminded that they are simply kids. I want them to embrace life and treasure it. They will not always be young, but they will always be my babies.

As many other mothers can attest, their inquiring little minds ask many questions. Some of them are repeated over and over and over and over. :-) Let's not forget the comments that escape from said lips as well. For instance, the other day my son says, "I'm so glad I'm a boy." When I asked him why, this was his response that was presented to me in a sing-song voice.

"I can pee standing up. I can pee outside. I don't have to wear a bra. I won't have boobs. I don't have to shave my legs. I won't be grumpy like my sister." 

Wow. I did not see that one coming. Last Saturday, I showed my little lad in training how to run the vacuum. After much praise, he even put it away in the closet. Sunday morning we awaken to the question, "Is it vacuum day?"

Mom nods. "Yes, it is. Would you like to run the vacuum again?" Mom is also silently wondering how long it's going to take him to realize it's not fun. 

Jumping up and down, son claps. "Yes! Can I run it again? Can I? Can I? Can I?"

What kind of mother would I be if I didn't let my son run the vacuum? ;-) I love those adorable, innocent moments. Care to share some of your own?

Old Family Photographs

Nothing makes you appreciate the past more than finding old family photographs, generations worlds apart. What were they thinking in this picture? Where were they? How old were they? The picture above is one of my favorites of my dh's grandmother and grandfather. She was so sassy! I love it! Look at her hand on her waist posing for the camera, the other draped over her man.  

I can't tell you the countless hours I have spent rummaging through old family albums. Amazed and awe-inspired, I gaze upon their faces, their untold stories calling out to me. They were so young, so full of life. The picture below is another one of my favorites. I remember when my dh's grandmother gave it to me. 

I was sitting on the floor in her living room and there it was. "This is a beautiful photograph of you," I exclaimed, pulling it out of its binder.

Sitting back in her chair, she sighed, her eyes drifting back to a far away place. "Walter and I were just dating. That was taken at the waterfall at my Uncle Jerry's... so long ago." 

Even though her husband had passed away several years earlier, I will never forget the look upon her face. The love they held for each other was evident, never fading.

Every time I gaze upon this lovely photo, I think back fondly of my dh's grandparents.

Of course there are other pictures that just down right make me laugh. When I view the one below, this is a picture of my grandmother on her horse. Growing up, we heard the same story countless times. She was in the barn and that darned horse kicked her in the arse, embedding two hoof prints in her hind quarters. Running out of the barn in tears, my great-grandfather chased the horse with a pitchfork.

Do you enjoy old family photographs? What do you do to preserve the past? 

Olde Stonewall Castle

Who would've thought a castle was in your own backyard? More like an hour away, but close to home nonetheless.

The clan and I ventured to Ellwood City, PA to Olde Stonewall Castle and Shakespeare's Restaurant and Pub over Valentine's Day weekend. As if this historical author would pass up an opportunity to wander around a castle!

Sitting upon 269 acres and actually known for its golf course, Olde Stonewall was rated as one of the top 50 places to play golf in the USA. For me, the only interest I have in the sport is the miniature kind. I don't think dunking the ball into the treasure chest would quite fit in here.

Imposing wooden doors that are 12-feet high and weigh 800 pounds have matching intertwined gargoyle door handles. Once you enter the fortress, a 6-foot knight-in-shining-armor greets you in the entryway. Envisioning yourself in the 16th century, clouds are depicted upon the ceilings with medieval chandeliers casting their mystical glow. The owner has antiques displayed in corner nooks and along the walls, mostly which are imported from Spain.

Shakespeare's Restaurant and Pub has a delightful medieval theme. The waiters and waitresses dress in peasant tops--although no kilts are donned--to add to the European atmosphere. Hanging in the main dining room, chandeliers were recovered from former churches in the Pittsburgh area and restored. The food is outstanding and the choices vary from sandwiches to prime rib and lobster. The price fits anyone's budget.

The elevator takes you to the second floor which also boasts several antique rugs and medieval weaponry. Period pictures are also displayed in several additional banquet rooms.

Unfortunately, we did not get the chance to roam outdoors due to the weather, but there is a 20-foot oval water fountain and a flower garden in the back of the castle. We will definitely be returning in the summer months to enjoy the outdoors.

When Scotland is so far away, why not enjoy a Sunday drive to a castle that's so close to home?

Blue's Christmas Miracle

How many of us try to complete all of our Christmas shopping well before the holidays? For the most part, probably the majority. Unfortunately, I am not that majority.

Having no choice, I had to venture out to the mall yesterday. I tried everything in my power to avoid it, but it was just inevitable. It had to be done.

I knew the dh and I were in trouble when we weren't even out of the car yet and everyone was fighting. There were no parking spots to be found. After driving around for several minutes, we finally found one. As we sat patiently waiting for a man to back out, some young blonde in her compact car flew into the spot, cutting us off. I can usually rein my temper, but I had to admit, my hand was on the latch to the door. It was crazy out there! Tempers were flying, people were pushing, men and women alike were rude... Gheez!

Barely escaping the mall with our sanity, I realize I forgot to buy wrapping paper. Mentally kicking myself and refusing to go back to the chaos of the mall, the dh drives me to our local K-Mart. My poor dh was through with the masses and decided to stay in the car. I grab my son and we go to buy the wrapping paper.

As we're standing in the check-out line, I notice a man standing behind us carrying a blue, fleece blanket. As he turns, a cute little puppy with big, floppy ears pokes his head out. 

"Aww... look how cute," I say, nudging my son.

The man steps closer with his precious little cargo and the dog has the most beautiful, crystal-blue eyes I have ever seen on an animal. Breathtakingly beautiful. 

"Your son can pet him if he wants to," he says, bending down within reach of my son. "His name is Blue."

As my son pets the dog, I shake my head. "His eyes are amazing. Truly beautiful and an appropriate name for such pretty eyes."

"Thank you. Blue was a rescued animal."

I smile in return. "That was so nice of you. Our dog, Zoe, was rescued as well. Someone dumped her on the doorstep of the shelter the night before we picked her up."

The man harrumphs. "Blue was dumped in a garbage can and we found him a couple of months ago. How can someone do that to an animal?" he asks with disgust.

"I have no idea."

I turn around and was silent the entire time through the check-out. Frankly, I was irritated and my thoughts raced. How terrible are people? Truly. That was horrific. Throwing a puppy in a garbage can... I was dumbfounded at the cruelty. 

Leaving the store, I am holding my son's hand and his voice breaks through my reveries. "Mommy, did that man say that someone threw the puppy in the garbage can?"

As a parent, you try to protect the innocence of your children for as long as you can, but there are some things that you just can't shield them from forever. Some people are just mean and vicious.

"Yes," I reply, shaking my head in disgust.

My son has this amazing ability at his young age to tell when Mommy is upset. He pulls on my hand so I glance down at him and he smiles at me with his blue, innocent eyes. "Don't worry, Mommy. Blue is home... and so is Zoe."

Giving him a warm smile, I sigh. "You're right... Blue is home."

May all of you find your way home safely this holiday season and be surrounded by the ones you love.

The Best Holiday Memories

Over 35 years ago...

Christmas Eve, a special time of year and one of the most cherished memories that will always hold a sentimental place in my heart.

Springing out of bed and giddy with excitement, we were going to Baba's (my grandmother's) for Christmas Eve. It could not be here soon enough. "What time are we leaving?" I would ask for the millionth time. It seemed like an eternity, but it was finally time to go.

Proudly displaying our Christmas dresses with our Mary Janes and white tights, we get all bundled up in our winter coats. Donning our hat and mittens, exhilaration filled the frosty air. My sister and I jump in the car, restless in the back seat. First, because we were going to Baba's. Second, because the car took forever to heat up. Singing every Christmas carol under the sun, we would surely make the Griswald's proud! We were on our way.

Glancing out the foggy windows, winter-white snow drifts graze the landscape making the picturesque Norman Rockwell scene come to life. The houses appeared as though they were merely a little village that belonged under a Christmas tree. You could actually feel the holiday spirit come alive. 

At last, we pull into Baba's driveway, her brick Cape Cod covered in snow. It always reminded me of a storybook gingerbread house and it was the perfect holiday backdrop. Sprinting out of the car, but careful on the driveway (Mary Janes were quite slippery with snow), we follow the stone path between the house and row of emerald green arborvitae trees. Reaching the back porch, we stomp our feet, shaking off the snow. We finally made it.

Opening the wooden door, the warmth brushes against our cold skin. Baba is standing at the kitchen sink with her green apron as we have seen her so many times before. Raising her head, she casts a warm smile and opens her arms to embrace us--her hug so comforting. *sigh* Immediately engulfed with the smell of Christmas Eve dinner, we search the counter for something we can sample. Yelling at everyone else for picking, she turns away from them, sneaking us a taste of anything we want.

Surrounded by family and sitting around her enormous dining room table, this is what it was all about. All of Baba's prepping and cooking was well worth the effort. It was simply delightful. 

Having finished dinner, the men made their sly escape into the living room (no surprise there) while the women cleared the table and washed the dishes. Had I known then what I know now! LOL. With the last dish washed and put away, we were finally ready for my favorite part. 

Bustling into the living room and everyone finding their spot, the old record player was brought down from the upstairs bedroom. The Mitch Miller Christmas sing-a-long albums were spinning and we all sang our little hearts out. Glancing around the dim-lit room, the fire crackled and popped, the Christmas tree was twinkling with baubles of Christmas past as the outside world was lost to us all. All that mattered was family and that particular moment in time.

With the last song almost sung, there was only one remaining. White Christmas. When my grandfather came home from World War II, he called my grandmother to say he'd be home for the holidays as White Christmas played in the background. Ever since then, my grandmother and grandfather would cry at the drop of a hat every time they heard the song. It has been many years since they left us, but the song still makes me tear up when I hear it.

It is with a gentle sadness that in my own youth I took those times for granted. I would have appreciated those times so much more. You always think the ones you love will be with you forever. Even though my Baba and Pap are no longer with me, those memories will always hold a special place in my heart--as will they. 

The best holiday memories are made with family and friends. Care to share a favorite holiday memory?

A Writer's Thanksgiving

A WRITER'S THANKSGIVING

T- Thankful for those in your life that support you through thick and thin. Your unwavering support is heartfelt.

H- Happy for other writers that receive 'the call' and paving the way for those of us that have not. You make us realize that dreams do come true. Congratulations! You've earned it!

A- Anticipating great things for all in the upcoming year.

N- Never giving up your goals or your dreams.

K- Knowing when to hold fast to what you believe in. Believe in yourself!

S- Smiling when your family is proud of you even when someone used your m/s for toilet paper.

G- Getting over the latest rejection with a smile upon your face and realizing you can't please everyone. It's inevitable.

I- Insightful friends that lend support with their words of encouragement and answer your panic calls no matter the time. I've been known to do that a time or two ;)

V- Victory to all those who work hard to meet their goals.

I- Idiots who give you your latest material. Your inspiration is appreciated and you are always in abundance.

N- Never admitting defeat.

G- Gin and tonic if none of the above work.

Happy Thanksgiving to all of my chapters and writing friends! May you all find happiness and a publishing contract in the upcoming season!