Monday, December 20, 2010

Just Received the Versatile Blogger Award

I was recently honored with the Versatile Blogger Award, given to me by fellow writer, Rachel Firasek,

Here are the details of the Award as I know them:

Started with BLHMistress over at Book Lover’s Hideaway;
Then to The Creative Well;
Then to Sugar Beats Books;
Then to Julia Rachel Barrett;
Then to Claudia Alexander at Twillwoven.
Claudia awarded it to Rosalie Lario
She then awarded it to Rachel Firasek who awarded it to me.

As a 'taggie' I am supposed to do the following:
1) Share 7 things about myself.
2) Pass this award on to 15 other bloggers recently discovered.
3) Notifiy the recipients.
4) Link the blogger who gave this award.

So here we go:
Seven things about myself:
1) I am a former tennis champ in team tennis, tri-state division in Michelob Light team tennis.
2) I won the Lynchburg News & Advance cooking contest on year for the appetizer division (cream of broccoli soup).
3) I was President of the Lynchburg Business and Professional Women's Club.
4) I learned how to play chess when I was six.
5) I planned on being a Chemistry major in college after I graduated with the high school's science award.
6) I got five numbers out of six on the VIrginia State Lottery the year it started.
7) I was President of my church's Methodist Youth Fellowship.

I will now pass this award on.

Thanks again to Rachel.

Saturday, December 18, 2010

Wish Upon a Star

Once upon a time there was a cybernetic organism named Peter Pinocchio. Peter preferred the name cyborg, as he considered himself to be more than the typical cyborg and far more than a man that was electronically manufactured. However, Gina Geppetto, his maker, was fond of reminding him he was, after all, her creation. Peter dared to differ with her, for he was sure he was a creation of the universal mind of imagination, a powerful force far beyond only Gina’s capabilities. He did, after all, have powers greater than hers. He was sure he had only tapped a few. But she always could be expected to task him with mundane daily duties and never really allowed him to go beyond his basest talents.

Peter dreamed he could one day be all-human, but with his current super-human qualities. He knew what he wished was nothing but a dream, but his best friend, Jimminy Android convinced him it was possible. “When you wish upon a star your dreams come true,” he told Peter.

Maybe in another time and pace,” he said. “But not in what’s left of war-torn Nevada.”

“Even here,” Jimminy said. “Bob told me so.”


He nodded. The fairy who assigned me to you.”

“I never knew you were assigned.”

He cocked his head sideways. “Do you really think I’d take care of you just because?”

Peter sighed in exasperation. Jimminy was forever pulling his leg. “So who is this Bob fairy person?”

He grinned. “He’s blue. Folks say he’s a Martian, but he claims he’s only been typecast and actually comes from Ceres. But he’s a fairy all right, as gay as they come. Still, he has the power to grant wishes.”

I nodded. “To each his own, Jimminy. I’m not into any kind of discrimination. After all, I’m considered substandard as a cyborg. I find it most devastating, as I am in love with Gina.”

Jimminy frowned. “Oh my, if you’re wishing for Gina, I’m not sure even Bob can grant your wish.”

A tall blue man with pointed ears walked around the corner. “My ears were burning. Were you talking about my granting a wish?”

Peter nodded. “Jimminy says you can make me a real man.”

Bob grinned. “So I can. But if I do, you need to prove you can be honest loyal and faithful.”

Peter patted his chest. “No problem. I am not programmed to lie or to stray from those who have been good to me.” He leaned forward. “Do you think I could make Gina fall in love with me?”

Bob’s eyebrow arched. “That’s a tall order. Let’s see how you do on the other part first.”

He waved his hand and Peter lurched as his electronic parts vanished and he stood before them, knowing he now had a beating heart instead of a mechanical valve system. Peter ran to the mirror and held his hand to his face. “I look similar, but there’s something about my skin. That must be blood flushing my cheeks.”

Bob nodded. “Other things flush also. You will feel stirrings you haven’t before.”

Peter cocked his head sideways. Whatever did he mean? “What do I need to do now to prove myself?”

Pointing, Bob smiled again. “Go to Pleasure Island of course. If you can remain honest loyal and faithful there, you can do it anywhere.”

“But Bob.” Jimminy trembled. “It is forbidden for anyone to go to Pleasure Island, for no one emerges who isn’t corrupt.”

Bob nodded. “So they say. That’s why it’s such a great test of Peter’s determination.”

After a week on Pleasure Island, Peter was exhausted. Jimminy had long since given up on him, for Peter had relished in all the island’s delights. He’d been amazed at how lavishly a real man could live. Just think, there was a never-ending buffet, wine and liquor and, most of all, women. Who’d have known the last item could be so enticing? It wasn’t disloyal of him to learn how to have sex, was it? After all, it would only make him a better lover for Gina. He had to admit, though, it was becoming more difficult with some, for something happened when he lied. He looked down at the crotch of his pants. If it got any longer he wouldn’t be able to zip it inside. He’d decided he had to tell the truth from here on out.

While in the middle of an all-night card game, Peter turned to see Jimminy standing next to him. Jimminy’s eyes looked frightened and distant. “Peter, Gina came looking for you, and a band of pirates in a hovercraft captured her. She’s being held captive on the Jolly Whale.”

Peter threw down his cards. “We have to get to her. Even if I have ruined my chances for ever making her fall in love with me, probably ruined them for staying a man if I go back, I must risk it. I cannot let her die.”

Early the next morning, just before the sun rose, Peter scaled the side of the Jolly Whale. He knocked the guard unconscious. Quickly he sneaked around front of the craft. There, tied to a pole, was his own sweet love, Gina, her long golden hair gleaming down her shoulders like the sun’s own rays. Her eyes widened as she saw him silently stride toward her. Taking a knife he had in his pocket, he sliced through her bindings. “I cannot believe how barbaric these men must be,” he whispered, “For them to use such old-fashioned methods in this day and age. Are you okay?”

She nodded. “Let’s get out of here.”

As they turned, a huge Gigantitron stood there in all of its glory, towering at least twelve feet over them. “You’re not going anywhere, mosquito,” the machine boomed.

“I will not let you harm her.” Peter placed his body between Gina and the Gigantitron.

The machine picked him up in its clawed hand and threw him in the lake’s deep water. Peter struggled, but the force of the fall had knocked all life out of him. As he sank below the murky depths, he closed his eyes and thanked Bob for at least allowing him to show Gina how much he loved her…

Thrashing with his arms to climb out of the darkness, Peter felt hands caressing his chest. “It’s okay, Peter. It’s okay.”

He opened his eyes to see Gina’s face swimming above his. “Where am I?”

Gina smiled and rubbed his forehead. “At the cottage. We placed you on your bed.”

His eyes focused. “It is my bed. But how?” He suddenly saw the faint outline of blue, Bob the fairy hovering above him.

“You deserved your wish Peter.” Bob vanished with a smile.

Gina kissed his lips. “Oh Peter, I’ve always loved you. When I made you I wished upon a star you could become a real man.”

Peter kissed her back. “I will always be true to you and we will be very happy.”

And they were. For Gina never complained about Peter’s previous small bout of lying.


Wednesday, December 15, 2010

Meet Gina Williams, "The Brat"

I gave the low-slung silver sun that threatened rain on that early spring morning a cursory glance, and continued wiping down my kitchen when I was interrupted.

The sunlight caught the woman’s silvery-blonde hair making it glow. Her eyes shone, not with glee or fun, I realised with a jolt, but with anger and frustration.

“How much longer are you going to ignore me?” Her temper snapped and crackled round the room like a lightening bolt.

“Excuse me?”

O.K. I knew my characters often turned up expecting me to know all about them, but never had one been so aggressive on our first encounter. Didn’t she realise I could snuff out her chances of reaching a publisher?

Perhaps she did. After all if we worked well together she’d achieve her public acknowledgment and I’d bask in the joy of seeing my debut novel out there in print and ebook.

The woman stood there in my mind as clearly as though she stood in front of me. Her essence filled the room.

“I’m Gina Williams,” she said, and her smile challenged the reluctant spring sunlight.

I ignored her disclosure and followed my instinct. “I don’t believe Gina Williams is your full name,” I replied, and watched the heat rise up her neck and into her face. Not many thirty-something’s I knew still blushed so easily. “Why the intrigue?” I asked.

“All will be revealed.” Her smile turned feral, and I returned to wiping the kitchen surfaces.

“I have a secret,” she said, then paused. “A dark secret.”

Again I waited, but this time she remained silent.

“Most people have secrets,” I prompted. “What makes yours worthy of a full length novel?”

“It is a secret so dark that my life as it is now, and my future would be destroyed if someone unearthed it.”

“You are…” I studied her closely. “…in your mid thirties, I’d guess…”

“You don’t understand.” The ever present fury beneath her fa├žade snapped. “Someone is stalking me.”


And so began my close association with Gina Williams, the heroine of my debut novel, The Brat, released on 1st October 2010 by the Wild Rose Press.

Sherry Gloag, author

Buy The Brat here =

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Thanks for visiting today, Sherry
Bobbye aka Daryn Cross

Monday, December 13, 2010

Crazy Holiday Blogfest!

I'm glad you folks could drop by today! This is one of many blogs in today's blogfest. Click on the picture to the right to see who is participating and each name will lead you to a different blog.

Here's my excerpt from the latest WIP, This Magic Moment, the sequel to It's Magic. See the cover below my excerpt. NOTE: Maxwell Magic has his work cut out for him to turn the tide on this hero.

“It’s dead and the only way you can save it is resurrection.”

“But, for crying out loud, Zack! It’s Christmas Eve!”

“So what? We’ve got one month until the Super Bowl and our commercial’s flat.”

Zack Graham, strode toward the elevators. Staring at Mike Kramer, he wondered what was wrong with his cousin and VP of sales. The guy was acting like a green exec, not a man who’d weathered the worst on their way up the ladder.

Mike pulled to a stop beside him in front of the closed doors and glared at him. “It’s fixable.”


Mike stood there, his face twitching out of control. If Zack didn’t know better he’d have sworn the guy had a disorder. He shook his head in concern. Mike was coming unglued. Stress was something few people could handle like he could. The kid… Zack winced, silently correcting himself. The twenty-five-year-old man should be able to handle things better than this. He let out a deep breath as Mike finally nodded.

“Yeah, fixable.”

Zack whistled. “Get with the program. Right now it doesn’t have a pulse. And if we don’t figure out how to resuscitate it, more than a million’s flushed down the toilet.”

“What do you want to do?” Mike threw his arms out wide in that over-exaggerated gesture he made.

“Get downstairs to marketing, now, and kick some ass.”

The doors of the elevators opened. At the sight of the full elevator, Zack started to count. At three, he waved it on. He couldn’t help being claustrophobic. Too many bodies made his skin crawl. Lord knew when an almost empty one would show up.

“Why not let the marketing department work on it by itself?”

Cringing at Mike’s desperate tone, Zack turned and fixed on him with a laser-sharp gaze. “You can’t trust anything to get done unless you stay on top of it, especially in this season of good cheer and idle carelessness.”

Commenters will be entered for a chance at a free download of It's Magic.

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Remembering Ted

He was made in the mold of a bad boy hero with the insides of a marshmellow.

After almost a week since Ted’s death, I’m ready to emerge and pay tribute to my husband, cross-posting this on both my blogs. Please bear with me for this, dear readers and then we’ll be on with all things about books, reading and life in general.

Before beginning, I want to again thank the writing community to which I belong for their support and words of condolence. I discovered many have been in similar circumstances as I have and emerged refreshed and recharged. Your comfort has meant the world to me.

Now on to Ted…

I met my husband in 1979 at a small store on Rivermont Avenue called “The Cavalier.” My cousin introduced us. Ted wore a white hat with a feather sticking out of it, and his first words to me were, “Just call me Robin Hood.” I wasn’t sure his head was tied on real tight, but we soon fell into a very passionate and romantic relationship that lasted that whole summer. Near the end of it, he told me on the first day it rained he was taking a bus across country with his bike (big bike enthusiast, biked nine miles to and from work everyday, while climbing electric poles during the day at work). He said he missed California and was going back there but would call me. He did as he said he would and called me a few times cross-country, but then I heard nothing.

Fast forward four years to 1983. One day he showed up again, evidenced by leaving a dozen steamed crabs in a plastic bag around the doorknob of my apartment front door. He called and asked me out that evening for a welcome home party. We started seeing each other again. Then, on Labor Day weekend, we went to the Blue Ridge Parkway to find his brother who was camping out with his wife and newborn son. Ted was sure his brother would never camp in a regular campground (which he had) and insisted on going up a dirt path straight up a mountain to find him at dark.

On the way down, he moved too close to the left side of the road and we went over the sheer side in his truck, rolling two and a half times, with me praying the whole way, until we ended up propped on one side against an oak tree. The truck’s roll bar and the seat belts saved our lives. We emerged laughing in shock that neither of us was injured. A car must have seen us in the distance because it came up as we climbed out and crawled up the hill. We went down the road on the mountain as far as their campsite, where they were staying with a group of a dozen or so people associated with a truck body corporation from Virginia Beach. They offered to let us stay with them. And so we did that weekend until we could get a tow to haul out the truck.

Amazingly, we drove the truck back to Lynchburg. Once back home, he asked if he could stay at my apartment because he couldn’t face his mother since he’s wrecked the truck. He never left.

We lived together for four years, much to my parents’ chagrin and against my faith, but I loved him. During the period, he’d gotten seriously injured, life threatening, and had to go on Medicaid. If we’d married he’d have lost it and his medical bills were almost a million dollars. Once he was through with most of the surgeries, we were married.

Ted never knew a stranger and was generous to a fault. If he thought someone was in a terrible situation, he'd be there to help with is time, his elbow-grease and his money. Even if he didn't have much money, he'd give away his last dime, sure there would be more where that came from. He loved to hunt and fish, tell jokes, pull your leg and exaggerate any story. He made you laugh because of his effervescence.

Ted stayed a happy-go-lucky free spirit until the day he died, although in the last few years, health issues made him less active and more depressed. He never went a day without telling me, "I love you" and complementing me on the way I looked each morning. Although he was unconventional, we had the same values and we loved each other deeply. I will miss him forever, and his memory and the times we shared will replay always in my heart.