TJ Wilde Trilogy · Duxbridge Mysteries · Jennifer McCaffrey Mysteries
Beauty. I was walking through my day, marking my time in all the usual ways.
Then in one moment, I looked over, and everything changed. The ordinary became the extraordinary, the drab flashed and refuse became art.
Inevitably, it was fleeting. As a good steward of the planet, I recycled it.
Working on a different book tonight. The series is tentatively titled The McCaffrey Mysteries. Not sure about individual book titles yet. It’s a concept that’s been rattling around in my brain for quite a while. So I needed to go old school with music this week. I hit the Marc Anthony playlist a bit hard.
More details on the new book series as I flesh out more of the story. Until then…
At the end of a crappy day, I needed a warm lift.
I set my little espresso machine to go and went to shed my work clothes for my comfy on-the-couch-clothes.
When I returned, there was no doubt who understood me, who knew what I needed to brighten my dreary day.
Not a bouquet of flowers. Not a cheery card.
No, it was a cup so pretty, I almost couldn’t drink it.
But of course, I did.
Bertie, Gertrude, and Candi were looking forward to their tropical vaca. Candi packed the tanning oil and beach hats. Gertrude managed the maps and tunes. Bertie was in charge of snacks. Loaded up and ready for takeoff, in blew a sudden storm. Alas, their flight was canceled. Instead of getting their feathers ruffled, they made the best of it with what can set any heart aflutter: a little retail therapy.
I am the keeper of the eggs.
Each morning I carefully gather them from their fluffy spot.
A gift from my lovely ducks. If I should forget to do my job, four webbed feet flip-flap over to me.
Tilted feathered heads look up and raucously remind me,
that I am the keeper of the eggs.
Annie DeMoranville 