The brink of each new day

Brings its own divine array

Of possibility and endless joy

Filtered sunshine oh so coy

Filling my heart with its glory

An affirmation of untold story

On the cusp of something new

Happy memories to accrue






Critical Error 55

Paul said, “Drop me here.  There won’t be enough room at the cabins for the car.  I’ll take my truck and bring some of the family back with me.  Stay close once we’re on the highway.  We don’t need any more injuries.”

As soon as the truck showed up, they raced out to greet him.  “Ok, let’s get back to the cabin.  Officer Deans here can take three or four of you with him, and the rest can come with me.”

Andrew voted to go with Paul, while the others were fascinated at the prospect of riding in an unmarked patrol car.  Paul led the way.  “Paul, what’s going on?”

“A change of plans.  That man on the ground back there, was Officer Harold Marks, the officer assigned to assist us.  Obviously, he never made it.”

“We haven’t found his car yet but we’re hoping once he regains consciousness, he’ll be able to explain what happened.  Until then, Officer Deans is going to take his place.”

Once they reached their assigned cabins, Paul got out and opened the door to the cottage he would be sharing with the Martin family, while Deans unlocked the other.  He motioned the family to stay put while they made a quick sweep of both cabins.  Once he’d verified both cabins were clear he motioned for the others to follow.

As soon as they were inside, Paul filled them in on what was happening.  Eyes like saucers, they stared in silence.  He went on to explain what he expected.  Again his words were met with silence.

“We’re going to split up.  Brandon and Cliff, you’re going with Officer Deans to share a cabin and I expect you to follow his instructions to the letter.”

“Yes, sir.”

“While we don’t know for sure that what happened to Officer Marks is connected, I’m not prepared to take any unnecessary chances; we’re going to take it slow and easy.”

“What do you want us to do?”  Eilea asked.

“I know it won’t be easy, but I need you all to act as naturally as possible so we don’t alert anyone.”

“Everyone clear on what’s happening?”

“I guess so.”


Officer Deans stationed himself beside the front door as instructed.

“Anyone interested in a game of cards?”  Eilea asked.

“Sounds good to me, I’m in,” the guys answered one by one.

“Mom, can I speak to you for a minute?”  They walked into the adjoining kitchen and Christina said, “I’d rather stay with Brandon.”

“Right now, the most important thing is everyone’s safety.”

Flopping on the chesterfield, she turned the tv on. The card game was short lived and the other teens went to join Christina, stretching out on the floor and anywhere else they could find to lay down.

Eilea and Paul sat at the kitchen table drinking coffee.  “How about you, Eilea, you up for a game of cards?”

“Sure.  What card games do you know?”

“Poker, poker and poker.”

She laughed.  “Ah, room for expansion.”

“If you say so,” he teased.

Leaning close and she whispered, “They don’t look too happy.”

“A day is a lifetime to a teenager.  They’ll get over it.”

Paul shuffled the cards and handed the deck to Eilea to cut.  “Highest card deals?”

“Well, we know who is going to deal this round.”

“Alright, are you ready for thirty-one?” she asked.

“Sure, but you’ll have to explain the rules.”

Paul was lucky at cards and won several rounds.  “Anyone else want to take on the champ?”

“You bet, you’re on,” Christina volunteered and Eilea traded places with her, opting to watch TV instead.  That was the cue for the other teens to sit in as well.   An uninterrupted and exciting hour of cards ensued.  When the show Andrew had been watching ended, he announced that he’d like to play.  He sat down, dealt and cleaned house.

“I’m going to turn in,” Theresa said.

“Yeah, me too,” Christina agreed.  “Thanks for the game, Paul.  I’ll get you next time.”

“I look forward to it.”

Page 56                                                                                        Page 55

Critical Error 54

Eilea and the kids had left at ten forty-two.  Paul anxiously inspected his watch; they’d been gone twenty minutes exactly.  Harold’s pulse continued steady, but Paul was beginning to worry; Harold should have started to come around by now.  They’d better get here soon!

He kept watching the bushes and surrounding area, just in case Harold’s assailant was still in the vicinity.  Although he couldn’t see anyone, he remained uneasy.  He relaxed once he saw the flashing ambulance lights as it raced down a half hidden road then across the sand.  It was accompanied by a patrol car.  Thank God, he thought.

Two ambulance attendants got out, bags in hand and rushed to his side, squatting on the sand to examine the injured man.  The younger of the two men ran back to the ambulance to retrieve a backboard.

Paul looked on anxiously, “How does he look?  He hasn’t shown any sign of regaining consciousness.  I was beginning to get a little concerned.”

“We’ll know more when we get him to the hospital and can do a thorough examination, but it looks like a concussion.”

Paul rose and watched as they lifted his fellow officer and placed the injured man in the ambulance.

Turning his attention to the young offer standing a few feet behind he asked, “What’s your name?”

“Scott Deans.”

“I want to see I.D.”  The younger officer looked at him as if he’d grown a second head  – after all, he was wearing a badge and uniform but reluctantly agreed.


“Just hand it over.”  He pulled his badge from his back pocket, then his wallet.  Paul immediately inspected both, determining they were legit.  “Paul Montgomery, Campbell River detachment.”

“I heard.”

“Is there any news on Officer Marks’ vehicle?”

“No, nothing yet.”

“I want you to accompany us back to the cabins.  We’ve booked two; you can stay with the boys and I’ll bunk with the others in the second cabin.”

“How long have you been on duty, officer?”

“I came on a few minutes before your call.”

“Good, it’s going to be a long night.”  While speaking with Officer Deans, he noticed that the clan was absent. “Where are the Martin family and the others?”

“I left them at headquarters.”

“Good idea, they’ll be safer there for the time being.”

“Did the officer in charge fill you in?”

“Yes, he did.”

“It’s beginning to look more and more as though the miscreant harassing the Martin family has found his way here and intends intensifying his barrage against the entire family,” Paul suggested.

“Have you ever been involved in a stake-out before?”  Paul asked the obviously inexperienced younger officer.

“No, sir, but . . .”

“Make yourself plenty of black coffee, Deans, you’re going to need it.”

He got into the passenger seat, and Officer Deans, impossibly pristine and innocent looking, obviously straight out of the academy, sat in the driver’s seat.  He buckled up and headed toward the cabins.  Instead of driving through, he passed them and turned into the gravel road adjacent to the office.

Page 55                                                                                      Page 53

Bashful and Bonkers #AtoZChallenge #AMWRITING

2017 Badge

“You’re wrong, just dead wrong!”

“You are.  Look, Maxine is never bashful, she’s totally bonkers!”

“That’s what makes her unique wonderful delightful!”

“Oh come on, tell me what’s so special about Maxine?”

“She speaks her mind, she tells it like it is, she’s unafraid and says what most are too bashful to say, even though they might think it.  She does it with style, flair and an I don’t care what you think attitude.  What’s not to love?”

“I still think Peanuts is better.”peanuts

“Definitely Maxine.”

“No contest!  Game over!”

“Drink up, your beer’s getting warm.”

“What’s wrong with warm beer?”


“Fred your just bonkers!”

“Andy you’re too bashful.”

And so it goes, an evening filled with pros and cons with no end in sight.

“Bashful and bonkers make our skewed world.”

“Ok, I agree with that one.”

“What topic is next?”

“Don’t know, same time same place, tomorrow.”

“Night Fred.”

“Night Andy.”





Prudent be thy name

Prudent is lame I claim

Prudent is careful

Prudent is uneventful

Prudent is sensible

Prudent is incomprehensible

Prudent is judicious

Prudent is unambitious

Prudent is thy name

Careful cautious tame



An Honest Answer

I had to repost this as truer words were never spoken!
Thank you Charles you fill me up. I was never good at striking back or defending those kinds of onslaughts.
A bully with words is a bully still,
Making you feel silly against your will,
Stand up, I say, and hold your ground,
No need to take abuse through sound.
So, pause and think how to react,
The next time bully gets in his act,
And be prepared with sharp rebuke,
You never know, might make him puke.

My Ode to Some Incredible Writers


Ode to Monica

You write with dynamics and flair

I quickly sit down in my comfy chair

Looking for the next installment written

Excited at the prospect I am so smitten

If a book you write, a best seller it would be

I’d line up and call everyone to come see

What a brilliant writer you are

Your words transport and I soar

Ode to Sarah

The depth of your writing, no one can compete

You are one of a kind and ultimately complete

With but a few simple strokes of your pen

You paint emotion strong time and again

Please never stop your words offer such depth

Grounded honest clearly from heartfelt breadth

Ode to Elaine

You struggled and overcome

Life’s difficulties never succumbed

Another path you quickly trod

And your affection I applaud

You share that in which you believe

Always on target hoping others receive

Joy and happiness fulfillment and truth

Your words wrapped in honey soothe

As you move onto painting a gift

Another life experience you’ve not missed

Ode to Liza

Depth of your soul you understand

Sharing so much not on a grandstand

But subtly giving freely your words

Sounding as beautiful as songbirds

You sense of humour is outstanding

Doubled over, nearly on the floor landing

As something delightfully witty and fun

Full of merriment, I was simply undone

Ode to Sheryl

You give of yourself daily in prose

Something remarkable to all those

Who care to read and then partake

Of your assistant as they undertake

The delightful path of pen to paper

Wondering what will be the next caper

You draw me in, your writing divine

Bits and pieces I’ve seen headline

The book you have written excited I am

To see it published, a grand slam!

Ode to Sumyanna

Your poetry is beyond divine

A book of yours I’d wait in line

Days weeks months if need be

Its beauty knows no bounds

With love affection it all surrounds

The depth of beauty inside your soul

You constantly unendingly share

Often brings with it a joyous tear

You move me and touch me to the core

It’s like listening to a musical score

I fly on wings of perfection so sweet

Yours words so beautiful such a treat


To all of you my friends,

As I read the words I have written

They could easily be exchanged and rewritten

For the qualities I’ve seen in all of you

Are equal and in all of you natural

You don’t put on a mask when you write

You write from the heart that which is right

You uplift you give positive delight

Whatever you’re writing it’s always with insight

I humbly thank each and every one of you

For inviting me into your lives, for that I adore you.











What you said truly gave me pause for thought

So much I could have said, comes in afterthought

That witty response, that cutting remark

That wouldn’t come until well after dark

Your tongue is sharp like a sword

Leaving my flesh cut and scored

Sometimes I sit my mouth hanging open

There was no response nothing was spoken

I gaped I stared I shuddered in awe

And I wonder who has the tragic flaw

Is it me spellbound and shocked

Or you who goes off half cocked

Speaking words cruel and cutting

Leaving others running and ducking

Never knowing what will come next

You leave those around you perplexed

You think your being funny and smart

Your nothing more than a sour little tart





Critical Error 53

“Yes, it’s me.” Listening to the scrape of the deadbolt against metal, the door was barely opened when he pushed inside.  “Are the kids back yet?”


“Come with me.  We’re going to round them up and get them back here.”

“Why, what’s going on?”

“The officer assigned to this case has disappeared.  We put out an APB and we’re expecting word any minute.  Until then, I want everyone together.”

“Do you think his disappearance is connected?”

“I don’t know yet.  I hope not.  Where is that flashlight I left with you?”

Eilea retrieved the light and handed it to him.  They headed out the door; Eilea’s hands shook so badly she was having trouble getting the key in the lock.  “Here, let me.”  Paul took the keys from her trembling hands and locked the door.  They jogged down the beach, looking for the kids.

They weren’t anywhere to be seen.  “Christina, Theresa, Andrew,” they called.  A few minutes past and they repeated their chant but changed the names to include Brandon and Cliff.  Jogging on, shining their flashlight into every nook and cranny as they went, they called out again.  No answer.  Paul said, “Listen!”

He heard something coming from the bushes.  “Christina, Andrew?”  Nothing.  “Stay here.  I’m going to check it out.”  Taking the flashlight Paul approached cautiously.  He heard moaning. “Who’s there?”  He moved forward.  “I said, who’s there?”  Hearing another moan, he inched forward.

To his amazement, a man pitched forward and landed at his feet.  Paul bent down and turned him over.  It seemed he’d found Officer Murdock, the missing cop.

“Officer Murdock, can you hear me?”  He was pretty badly beaten.  Damn!

“Eilea, do you see the kids yet?”

“It looks like they might be coming down the beach, there’s a group coming this way, but they’re still too far away to identify.”

“Here, wave the flashlight at them.”  When she did, three lights flashed in response.

“It must be, they’re waving flashlights now too.”

“I want you to take them back to the cabin with you and call an ambulance.  This officer needs help.  Then get back here, all of you!”

“Yep, it’s them and they’re running this way.”

“What’s up?”  Theresa asked.

“Come with me, we have to get help, this man has been injured.”

“I’ll stay here!”  Andrew suggested

“No, Andrew, I want you all together.  If the person that did this is still here, he’ll only have one target to go after and that’s me.  Now go, hurry!”  Paul’s words brooked no argument for they weren’t a statement but more of a command.

Without any further bidding, they moved swiftly and did as Paul suggested.  Turning his attention back to the man that lay on the ground and took his pulse, which although acceptable wasn’t nearly as strong as he would have liked.  He rolled him onto his side to prevent choking.  Harold’s face was cut and bruised.  A quick examination told him little else.  It would have taken a lot to bring him down.  He was every bit as muscled as his serg. had suggested.  The only way anyone could have inflicted those kinds of injuries on Murdock was if he hadn’t seen it coming and they’d used something substantial to strike him with.

Page 54                                                                                      Page 52

Critical Error 52

“I’ll make sure Mr. Harrow comes with me if I need to return,”  Sanders replied belligerently.  Within minutes, the task was completed.  Gear in hand he opened the door to pause momentarily as he looked over his shoulder, “See ya’s.”  He raised a hand to his hat and dragged himself out the front door thinking they were a weird lot.

“Still care for a cup of coffee?”

“You bet.”

“How about a little Kalhua?”

“Sounds wonderful.”

Reminding her to lock the door, he hurried out.  She didn’t, reasoning he was only going to be gone for a couple minutes.  When he returned Kalhua in hand, he was annoyed she hadn’t followed instructions.

“Why didn’t you lock the door?”

“Because you were only going for a minute.”

“A minute is all it takes!” he said exasperatedly.

“Well then, I guess I was lucky.”

Walking to the picture window he invited, “Come and take a look at this!  The moon is sharing its captivating brilliance with us.  Let’s take a walk.”

Eilea added coffee to the two cups he’d poured Kahlua into, handed one to Paul before donning a pair of sandals to accompany him outside.  Rounding the corner of the cabin, she found a huge rock to sit on.  Paul stood behind her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, “This is very romantic, it couldn’t be more perfect if we’d planned it.”

“I love it.  There’s only one thing I love more, and that’s watching the sun rise over the ocean.”

Together, silently, they sat absorbing the perfect vista before them; from the ocean lapping against the distant shore to the cool freshly scented breeze, along with the moon’s glistening presence, it couldn’t be more romantic or idylic.  With a sigh, Eilea begrudgingly admitted, “I’m beginning to feel a little chilled, I think I’ll go and finish my coffee inside. How about you?”

“Join you in a minute.  I’m going to take a look for the kids and talk to the undercover officer.  He should have arrived by now.”

“See you when you get back.”

“This time, lock the door!” He admonished, a look of concern covering his handsome features, as he tapped the end of her nose with his finger.

“Yes, boss,” she replied cheekily.

Paul watched until she was safely inside, before jogging down the beach, picking up the pace as he went.  They’d been gone a long time.  He wanted to make sure they were together.  It took him twenty minutes to find them, jogging flat out.  “You guys alright?”

“Yeah, we’ve been wandering the beach, enjoying the mood.”

“As long as you enjoy the mood together.  Have you noticed anything unusual?”

“Nothing,” Christina replied, and he watched the others shake their heads in agreement.  Paul looked around, “There’s supposed to be an officer working undercover, watching you.”

“He must be a spectacular undercover guy cause I haven’t spotted anyone else the entire time,” Christina replied looking at the others for confirmation.

“That’s strange.  You guys take care and we’ll see you later.  I need to find out what’s going on.”

Paul trotted back the way he’d come.  Instead of stopping at the cabin, however, he continued on until he reached the manager’s office.  When the manager finally peered around the corner, Paul asked, “Has the other officer checked in yet?”

“Not as far as I know.”  Turning, he opened a door that once served as a closet, now renovated to function as key storage.  Turning back to Paul, he said, “Nope, the keys are still here.”


“That’s right, haven’t seen anyone either.”

“Can I use your phone?”

“Knock yourself out.”

Paul dialed 911, identified himself and said, “I met with Captain Brown late this afternoon and arranged for an undercover officer to meet me at Uclulet.  He hasn’t arrived and I want to know if he’s been detained and why I wasn’t informed.””What do you mean, he left two and a half hours ago?”

“What do you mean, he left two and a half hours ago?”

“Well, he didn’t make it.  He’s not here and he hasn’t checked into his room.”

“I’m going to send an officer to his house.  Hang on!”  Paul listened as the dispatcher sent a patrol car to the officer’s house.  “He was going to drive his own car, a Z28, two-tone, cream and brown.  He figured it would make a better cover.”

“His name is Justin Murdock.  He’s 5’10, tall with muscles the girls drop dead over, and he’s perfect for this job.  He’d have reported in, he’s reliable and a damn good cop.”

Paul waited impatiently tapping his fingers on the desk until dispatch returned with,

“Sarg, he’s not here and his car is gone.”

“Something’s up.  We better put out an APB. Drive along the route heading toward the beach, the most likely route he’d take.”

“Did you catch that, Montgomery?”

“Ok, I’m going to take a look around here.  I’ll call you back one way or the other.”  Paul hung up.  Not good!

He hurried back to Eilea and pounded on the door.  He could tell he’d startled her, her eyes, when she opened the door, were as huge as saucers.

“Sorry, Eilea, I didn’t mean to startle you.  Officer Murdock hasn’t put in an appearance yet and I’m going to go look around.  Lock yourself in and tell the kids to stay put when they get back, do you hear me?”

“Yes.”  This time, she didn’t argue the point.

Paul shut the door, ran to his truck, unlocked the door pulled the driver’s seat forward and picked up a metal box hidden in the floor to retreive a gun and holster, he quickly fastened it to his belt.

He made his way to cabin nine and peered through the windows; nothing seemed to have been disturbed.  He spun around and hurried to the parking lot.  The officer’s car was nowhere to be seen.  Shit!  What could have happened to him?

Back at the manager’s cabin, Paul dialed 911 and spoke with the same officer.  “He never got here, damn it!”

“Yeah.  I’m going to round up the Martin family and take them back to the cabin.  You’d better send an officer over right away.  I’m going to need help until morning.  We may have to move them into a safe house.”

“I’ll send Officer Scott Deans straight over.  He should arrive in about twenty minutes.”

Paul’s “Got it!” was terse.

Slamming down the phone, he sped back to Eilea.  The situation had just escalated making him think the perp had indeed found her, accidentally or otherwise.  He knocked on the door and heard, “I’m coming.  Paul, is that you?”

Page 53                                                                                       Page 51

2017 Badge

A is for? appointment

Damn it! she stomped, angry with herself.  She was never late!  She never missed an appointment!  She was never late!!! Yet for the first time in as long as she could remember, she was, late, not just late but very late.  On this the most important day of her life – the beginning of a promising new career, if all went according to plan.

She was nearly panting as she raced through the door, patting her hair as she went attempting to calm her breathing, hoping against hope that the interviewer was held up and hadn’t noticed her tardiness.

Maryanne was a striking woman.  She rarely gave her looks a second thought, using the mirror to ensure her makeup was correct, her hair styled and her clothes tidy.  Her looks were not of her making, and yes she took time occasionally to enhance them by whatever means she chose, but she was all about the internal.

She knew that MacMillan and Ash were too.  Having read up on them prior to setting up the interview Maryanne was well aware of their standards, ethics, morals and goals.

The advertisement clearly stipulated if you were late, don’t bother.  Timeliness was everything.  They were right, it mattered in life but mostly as relating to this business.  It was their mantra.  She hung her head at the thought.

Just then a debonaire man strode toward her.  She stared open-mouthed.  Christian!

He took one look and smiled, “Worth the wait.”

Had to share, these are spectacular

Originally posted on theblackwallblog: March stomped out leaving behind ?12 fresh inches of extra heavy packed white snowflakes. While, April Fools Day welcomed me with a case of insomnia and lots of shoveling! One must love Mother Nature’s sense of humor, particularly if you live in New England. Tomorrow’s weather looks like 50s and sunny,…

via We Certainly Can! — Success Inspirers World



hahaha WP   As April Fools go, unexpected!

As I gandered at Word of the Day

Imagine my surprise this Saturday

There was nothing to be found

I reloaded twice looking around

Nothing I could find and suddenly knew

Without a doubt something’s askew

Aha,  April Fools, I chuckle to myself

WotD gone, at the hands of an elf

As I went about other daily duties

Trying to decide what kind of cruelty

Removed the link, it’s all fun and games

It will certainly surface later, I acclaim



Critical Error 51

“I’m in two minds about calling Brandon and Cliff’s parents, to inform them about what’s happening.  Then they can decide whether or not they want the kids to leave or stay.”

As they walked along the beach, the teens were frolicking in the water, splashing one another.  The sun was setting casting a profusion of color as far as the eye could see.  “Wow, isn’t it sensational?”  Eilea stood staring awed by the variety of hues ranging from deep orange to violet.

Placing an arm around her waist, he pulled her close.  Without warning, he bent down and shot a spray of water at her that dampened her breasts, shoulders and face.  “Why you rat!”  Eilea began kicking and splashing water at Paul until he was as wetter than she was.  Their water fight escalated into a free for all that completely soaked them both.

Eilea rushed toward him and wrapped her arms around his waist; they playfully struggled, becoming entangled with each other, lost their footing, and were submerged.  As they went under, they let go of each other, rising from the as yet cold water, gasping for air, rubbing the water off their faces, laughing at one another.  Hopping spritely to her feet, she rushed at Paul once again and pushed his head under water.  Rising, he seized her by the waist and pulled her back under.  They continued floundering for several minutes until Paul drew her soaked form to his and planted a wet kiss upon her upturned lips.  As the kiss deepened, they slid gracefully into the water.

Rising from the water’s shallow depths he said, “God, you’re lovely.”  His voice held wonderment.

“Ohh, come on, as much as I would love to stay here, I’m freezing.”

Winking he suggested, “I know several ways to warm you up.”  Although she loved the idea, she gently reminded, “I’m sure you do, but we have an audience… I feel a little uncomfortable.”


“And how do you propose to manage that?”

He simply winked, “They have to sleep sometime.”

“Race you!”  They dashed toward the cabin as warm breezes caressed their wet cold bodies.  Sprinting to the cabin door, Paul snatched her into his arms and carried her the rest of the way.  “Put me down!”


“I’m freezing and I want to get into a hot shower.”

“Meet you in ten minutes.” He taunted, “You’ll never make it.”

“Watch me!”

“Lock the door behind you.  I’ll knock, loud when I’m finished so you can hear it.”

Eilea opened the door, entered, and followed his instructions before sauntering very slowly toward the shower.  Dropping her wet clothes on the floor, something she rarely did, she stepped into the bathtub and turned the shower on.  Its warmth quickly enveloped her, and when she felt completely refreshed and sufficiently warm, she climbed out, toweled her body dry and quickly dressed.  Scurrying to the front door, when she heard his knock.  “Ha,ha!  What was that about  . . .”     Opening the door, she found a stranger standing there.  The smile died instantly upon her face as she asked, “Who are you and what do you want?”

“I’m supposed to fix the kitchen sink.  It doesn’t appear to be working properly.  The manager sent me over.”

“You’re not coming in until he personally gives the ok.  He knows that.  Please leave.”

Paul heard her raised voice and flew through the adjoining door, his shirt half buttoned.  “Who are you?”

“I was sent by the manager to fix the drip under the sink.”

“Get him!”  Paul ordered.

“Gee, what the hell gives?  I was sent to fix the god damn sink.”

“Not until I see the manager!”  The stranger left, shaking his head in disgust.  “If the manager returns with our friend here, then we’ll know everything is legit.”  Changing the subject he asked, “Got coffee on yet?”


“You are a slow-poke.”  Paul brushed the end of her nose with his finger.

“Slow-poke?  Look at you, with your unbuttoned shirt half on and no shoes while I, on the other hand, am completely dressed,” Eilea pointed out, nose in the air, prancing toward the coffee maker.  Paul laughed.  God she was a delight.

Another knock sounded at the door.  Paul rose instantly and went to answer it, jerking the door open, startling both the manager and the repairman. “I am sorry, Mr. Montgomery, I forgot all about the arrangement.  This is Mr. Sanders.  He’s here legitimately to fix the sink.”


Critical Error 50

The food was delicious.  The fish and shellfish were succulent tasty, cooked with care to perfection.  Because it was a slow night, the cook came out to join them to inquire about the grub.

“It’s delicious,” they cried.

“Good, it’s supposed to be.” He bantered for a bit suggesting sites to entertain, indicating little shops they might enjoy then a smile wide turned to walk back to the kitchen.

Paul paid the bill and Eilea left a tip.  The distance between the restaurant and their cabins was minimal and they could have walked, but Paul suggested they stay together until after they checked in.

Stopping at the office to pick up their keys, the manager directed them toward their set of cabins and they headed off.  Paul, Brandon, and Cliff shared one cabin, while Eilea’s family and Theresa shared the other.

Hearing a clamor of voices outside their cabin, Eilea teased, “I think they’ve arrived, don’t you?”

“Anyone else up for a walk?”  An immediate chorus of agreement met her suggestion. The kids walked in front, at a distance ensuring their conversation couldn’t be overheard.  Andrew hurried to catch up.  That left Eilea and Paul to follow.

“Alright, now that the kids aren’t around, tell me what’s really going on.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.  It certainly didn’t take you long to get the ball rolling, so I can only assume that while that officer back there was on one phone, you were on the other.  What did you come up with?”

“I told them I expected another officer assigned to watch our back because we have a lot of kids to keep our eyes on.”

“I’m prepared to turn around and head directly home and I mean it.  If there is one more incident, we’re out of here.  I won’t take chances with the kid’s lives, especially Brandon and Cliff.  I don’t know what their parents will say when they hear about this as is.”

“That’s why I asked to have another officer assigned.”

“What do I say to allay their fears?”

“We face this together.  Once they realize they aren’t alone, this isn’t about them, that it’s just one sick puppy acting out his fantasies, they’ll realize that we can overcome this problem.”

“I hope so.”

“I want them to understand that they have the greatest gift possible inside each and every one of them!  The gift of fear.”

“I’m not completely sure I understand what you’re saying.”

“In every example of every attack, beating, robbery or otherwise, when I talked with the victims, they all had one thing in common.  They each mentioned there was a point a moment during which their basic instincts kicked in and told them to get the hell out of there.  And, in almost every instance, the problems that occurred, happened as a result of their failure to listen to themselves.”

“That’s amazing!”

“It’s amazingly true!  When we talk to the kids, I’d like to give them some examples to think about so they can absorb the idea and prepare for it.”

“I feel more comfortable already.”

“Eilea, it’s not a matter of feeling comfortable, it’s a matter of being aware of your inner warning system.  We all have it.  If it goes off, then listen to it.  Respond to it.”

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Critical Error 49

“Be aware.  Don’t deny a gut feeling about any situation you’re in.  We may or may not be dealing with the individual causing problems for your family but until we’re sure either way, let’s take some precautions.”

“A patrol car has been assigned to check regularly while your here (again erroring on the side of caution) with an undercover officer occupying the cabin next door. I’ve already contacted the Manager whose agreed to assist us.  He knows the locals and he’ll keep his eyes peeled for any new or suspicious looking characters.  Any work project on or near your location,  he’s agreed to give you heads up or introduce the workman, personally, so you know it’s legit.”

“Paul is an experienced officer, if you have any doubts or concerns, make them known to immediately so he can size up the situation and respond accordingly.  Got it?”

“I told you it was a good idea to bring Paul,” Christina said, hailing his presence.

“It sure was, honey.”

“Anything else we should do?” Eilea asked.

“Keep your eyes and ears open.  Relax, but be alert.  Watch out for each other, cover each other’s back.”

“We can do that,” Cliff promised.

“Alright, an insurance agent has taken a look at the van and he says he doesn’t think there’s will be a problem fixing it within the next day or so since the damage is minimal.”

“Ok, we’ve covered all the bases, we can go.  I paid for a connecting cabin for the guys so that we’re all together and no one is sleeping outside.”  When she would have argued with Paul, but he immediately forestalled her, “It’s important, Eilea.  The cost isn’t the issue here, safety is.  At this point, since we’re not sure who this is, it’s not worth the risk.”

“Let’s get to our cabins, check in and get this holiday back on track!  We still have time for a walk on the beach in the surf and I rounded up some flashlights.  Carry them with you and use them wisely, they are a signal that you need help.”

“I thought we might find a good restaurant first.  I for one don’t feel like cooking and I didn’t think anyone else would either.  I hear there’s a pretty nice restaurant about a mile from where we’re booked.  How about it?”

“Sounds good to me,” the kids instantly agreed.

“Great, let’s go.”

They filed outside but Paul hung back and Eilea watched as he said something to the and nodded before turning and sprinting to catch up.

The restaurant was expensive, but intriguing and uniquely decorated with a rustic motif.  Originally, a boat pulled on shore and abandoned, someone had come up with the brilliant idea of turning it into a restaurant.  The seats and tables were made of sanded but unfinished planks.  The walls were beautifully finished wood, obviously part of the original boat.  Brass portholes and bits and pieces from downed ships in the area hung on the walls as accent pieces.  It was a very clever idea.

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Eloquence In A Question #2

This is the second of, hopefully, a series of insightful question/discussion posts. See the first here.

Here’s how it works: Have a look at the question, read my answer, and then do one or both of the following: tell me your response to the same question, respond to my answer with thoughts of your own.


If there comes a day when you don’t see tomorrow, what’s something that you hope to leave behind? What would your legacy be?


When the day comes that I’m no longer here, I hope people, especially my family, will remember me. I will leave behind an amazing little boy that is wiser than his years, who has been empathetic since before he was born. I will leave behind a husband that adores his wife and does everything he can to help me and make me happy. In the end, what will truly remain of me — a part of my soul — will be left in my words. Every poem is a little piece of me. Every piece of fiction, every book, every narrative thought, came from my essence. No matter how fantastical the story, deep down, there are real problems to solve, real issues at stake, real thoughts, emotions and trials to face. These are all things I will leave behind in this world, and I hope they will continue to inspire others and give hope, where there otherwise may not be.

How about you?

Stay tuned for the next question.

I hope that those around me would remember I cherished every moment I spent with them. Although they have no idea I lived a horror story, I managed to push it all aside and love them with all my heart soul and mind. I hope they remember me with kindness and affection and something I said triggered a moment that changed their life going forward in a positive and meaningful way.

This will be the first of, hopefully, a series of insightful question/discussion posts.

Here’s how it works: Have a look at the question, read my answer, and then do one or both of the following: tell me your response to the same question, respond to my answer with thoughts of your own.


How does it feel when your muse runs his fingers through your hair, resting his palms bare on your crown?


My muse is androgynous, taking on the form of whatever is necessary to fulfill the task. But when it comes out, it’s a rather strange feeling. It’s like my thoughts cease and words begin to form in response to some form of stimulation (one or more of the five senses, sometimes including synaesthesia). When I’m writing my fiction, I transcend myself and become whoever it is I’m narrating. It’s freeing and relaxing, and it is definitely something that I cannot live without.

How about you?

Stay tuned for the next question.


My muse lives in playful shadow Hide and Seek the name of the game but then she turns and glares and suggests I keep up! Sometimes it’s impossible for the plethora of ideas 10 20 30 on a given subject or word and I find I am overwhelmed unable to decide which idea or thought to pick, which is right for the moment. Then she scampers away laughing because either I caught what she was suggesting, or didn’t and she’s full of amusement. I love this idea, wonderful way to communicate with other writers and bloggers. Awesome Sarah.