47 YEARS AGO, THIS WEEK…

 

At this point, 47 years ago, Mark and I were totally immersed in wedding plans… and trying hard to ignore “certain people” who thought they (even though they were NOT our parents or siblings) had the right to command the way we did things; so much so, that a few nights before our wedding was to happen, my Dad offered to give us money to elope and promised that he would manage to get himself and my Mom and Mark’s parents to whatever chapel we wanted to be married in! It was so tempting (yes, some people were really causing grief), but we decided to stick with our plans and the location we chose.

We spent the balance of the week tracking down RSVPs, adding a few last-minute invites, and making a list of wedding presents so we could send thank-you cards. Our apartment, although we were not yet living together, provided both a place to escape and a place to store some of those previously mentioned wedding gifts. And we had the final fittings for my wedding gown, WHICH MY MOM DESIGNED AND SEWED.

By midweek I had discussed the plans to “kidnap” Mark (masterminds were his brother, brother-in-law, and my brother-in-law. The plan was to kidnap him, put him in handcuffs and take him out for a “adult-only” kind of evening. And that Friday night, dressed in my jeans and a Mickey Mouse T-Shirt (with each Mouse ear conveniently covering each boob, lol), I tricked Mark into going downstairs where he was snatched up. I laughed at the conspiracy, and was surprised when my sister, sister-in-law-to-be, and a friend, also carted me off to dinner, and then to the friend’s house where the guys showed up and we partied till the late hours.

Saturday night, December 27, 1975, Mark and I promised not to see each other and to spend the night before our wedding with our respective parents and siblings.  I was giddy with the anticipation. My poor Mom was still being harangued by “a relative” (who was NOT contributing a cent to the event) telling her all the things we did wrong, who we should have invited, and criticizing (without seeing it) the gown my mother made for me to wear that day! We were all a bit on edge.  I made sure to get to sleep, or at least to bed, nice and early that night so that I could truly enjoy OUR DAY.

Sunday morning, December 28, 1975… it was finally HERE. Mark and I agreed to meet at the catering hall in Queens, get dressed out there, and have a zillion family pictures taken before the actual ceremony. I was excited. My parents left the apartment first, my dad had to help my partially disabled Mom down the three flights of stairs, my 4-year-old nephew and my grandmother went with them. My sister, her husband, and I carried our gowns/clothing in garment bags, locked the apartment door and started downstairs.

My poor sister tripped and fell down an entire flight of hard, marble steps. She was laying crumpled on the landing, conscious, and in tremendous pain. While my brother-in-law tended to her, I ran downstairs to get our dad; my mom, her mom, and my nephew stayed in the car and worried. My first thought was that my sister would have to be taken to the emergency room of the local hospital. My Dad, who was trained in First Aid, checked her out.

Knowing that no matter what we did, I had to reach Mark and let him know what had happened and, possibly, to ask if he would meet us at the hospital. But this was the days before cellphones, and although I tried the office phone at the venue, no one picked up the ringing line. Finally, my sister, being a real trooper, insisted that she was going to walk down the aisle as my Matron-of-Honor even if she had to limp all the way. It took a while for her to get PAINFULLY upright and between my dad and my brother-in-law, they pretty much supported the rest of her journey down the stairs and into the car.

And then traffic was HORRIFIC, and it was not people heading out to watch our nuptials… I cried most of the way from the Bronx to Queens and watched as the time seemed to rush by. Finally, we arrived, and I saw Mark’s brother pacing up and down the sidewalk. I was so afraid that everyone had left, and I burst into uncontrollable tears as I told him what had transpired. He went ahead and told everyone of my arrival.

I was thankful and amazed… THE MAN HAD WAITED FOR ME; Mark and I were going to be married!

My family all got dressed. My Mom helped my sister who bemoaned that she couldn’t wear the beautiful pair of shoes she bought to match her gown and would be walking down the aisle in her sneakers. My Mom’s nerves were totally frazzled… and she still had to put up with the one meddling relative. The service went well, my nephew, our ring bearer, interrupted the Rabbi asking him to please bless our wedding rings, and everyone shouted Mazel Tov at the end.

After posing for less than the zillion photos we planned, we went into the reception hall and danced our first dance as husband and wife to “We’ve Only Just Begun”. Shortly after, my poor Mom, with all the stress she had had over the past weeks and that morning, had a diabetic reaction. She refused to leave the building but did concede to lying down in the bridal suite – where she spent the bulk of our reception. My father-in-law, nerves wracked over my tardiness, imbibed a little too much on an empty stomach and began to serenade our party with a rousing rendition of “When Irish Eyes Are Smiling”.

Mommy did rejoin the party close to the end and was there to see us off. We walked out of the venue to a lot of snow! Mark and I had decided to spend the first night of our married life in our Rockland County apartment and head off on our honeymoon the next morning. By the time we got to our apartment complex, there were snowbanks everywhere. I had to call my parents to make sure my mom and my sister were okay, but we didn’t have a phone installed yet. He was still in his tux, and I was still in my gown, when Mark spied a payphone, he lifted me up and carried me through the snow so that I could call home.

The next morning, we woke and headed out through the snow to Mt. Airy Lodge in the Pocono Mountains of Pennsylvania. We had the most delightful honeymoon for the rest of that week.

And now, in 2022, 47 years later, we retired and now live in the Pocono Mountains. Mt Airy LODGE closed in the 1990s, now it is a casino, and yes, we’ve visited a few times. We’re older and still head over heels in love.

And we are happy… all because

THIS MAN WAITED FOR ME. 

45 Years!

 

I married the love of my life 45-years ago on December 28, 1975 and it has been a wild and wonderful ride.

 

Although we went to the same high school, we never REALLY met there (okay, I punched him one time when he was a hall monitor and attempted to stop me from going to my classroom after the “switch” was over); we actually MET a few years later as volunteers in the NYC Auxiliary Police. I was already a member of our unit when he signed up and, as Personnel Officer, I had to interview him. He passed and was admitted into our unit… but neither of us liked each other, lol.

 

However, as time went on we did eventually go out on a date and we both seemed to enjoy each other’s company… he asked me out for the following weekend. Within two weeks, he proposed, I said NO (not because I didn’t like him, I just didn’t think I was ready) — he was “persistent” and the following morning we announced our engagement. Then I went away for eight weeks to work at a summer stock theatre, he drove up to visit me several times.

 

By the time I returned home everyone wanted to know if we had set a date, we hadn’t yet. On December 28, 1974 we attended a formal ceremony for my Dad at the local J.W.V. chapter, they were honoring him for his community service as the local Auxiliary Police Captain as well as his WW2 service in the Army Corps of Engineers. While there, once again Mark and I received a multitude of questions about the date of our wedding until we both just looked at each other, smiled, and responded “One year from today”.

 

We did start discussing what kind of wedding we wanted, I was all for a small Rabbi’s study with just our immediate families present. Although Mark was easy going, his father and one of my aunt’s made it difficult to plan something intimate. We wound up compromising on a guest list of 90 (approximately 80 showed), both of his folks were pleased, the aunt made arguments right up to the wedding (and no, she was not paying for it!).

 

The day of the wedding was… memorable to say the least. My mom was totally stressed dealing with the intrusive aunt, on the way to the catering hall my sister (my Matron-of-Honor) fell down a flight of stairs and we thought she had broken her leg; trooper that she is, she managed to pull herself together and promised to be able to “hobble down the aisle” for her little sister, and I hadn’t been able to reach Mark (before the era of cellphones) and we arrived so late that he had almost  given up waiting.

 

Everything was finally underway! We posed for an array of photos, and then the ceremony began. We were married!!!!! Then… my poor Mom, a diabetic, had a serious low-blood sugar reaction to all the stress and upset about my sister’s tumble and she wound up spending the majority of party time lying down in the bridal suite while my Dad took juices to her; she wouldn’t leave and go to the hospital. Finally, the end of the party came, my mom was able to be present for the latter half of the party and in time to see me throw my bouquet and leave with my new husband.

 

Maybe we should have realized that our wedding day was a forecast of our marriage with all of our ups and downs, but in the end we drove off TOGETHER excited about our new life. We weathered crazy downstairs neighbors, the deaths of all four parents (in a five year period), a few miscarriages, buying a house, the birth of our daughter, the preemie birth of our son, ups and down in jobs and finances, seeing both of our children grow into phenomenal adults and (after a few false starts) settle down in their own homes with loves that are terrific people, we survived a serious illness, and finally a retirement and move to a beautiful home not far from where we actually honeymooned.

 

In 45-years our love has grown, been tested, and shined even brighter with each new day. I am so glad that he was persistent on the night he proposed — I couldn’t imagine any other life.

I love you, Mark, now and for eternity.

.

 

Beshert

“Though the term beshert can refer to any fortuitous event (“I missed the bus, but it must have been beshert, because I heard it broke down”), it is most often used to mean a soulmate: the one person whom an individual is divinely destined to marry.”
(from MOMENT)

Now going on approximately two months of #SocialDistancing and #StayAtHome, I think it’s remarkable that my husband and I (and our two cats) have actually had many peaceful and relaxing days TOGETHER. Of course there’s a bit of craziness over not being able to see our four kids (two raised by us and their mates) and especially knowing they are each on the Front-Lines of this COVID-19 pandemic. But Mark and I are finding after nearly 45-years of marriage that we are enjoying each other’s company, and, as I often quip to friends (on the phone or social media!) “We haven’t killed each other yet!”

We’ve found lots to talk about, share our concerns about our children’s safety and how much we miss them, enjoy laughing together at so many of the Facebook memes we come across, and have MANY date nights together finding movies on NetFlix or watching our favorite TV shows together. About 46-years ago when we had our first date I never imagined a life so filled with love and companionship… truthfully the first time he invited me out I honestly thought he was joking (Truth!) or I don’t think I would have actually said yes. But wow am I glad I did. Surprisingly, especially to me, we were engaged just a mere 14-days later.

Looking back on it I really believe that we were destined to spend our lives together. As we got to really know each other we found out so many ways that our lives intertwined long before we went out on our first date. Even now, so many years later I am still finding out the many ways we could have met, or at least gotten a chance to know each other. Just to mention a few of the ironies of our lives:

·       We went to the same High School, he was a year ahead of me. Yes I do remember one encounter in the school hallway when he was a school monitor and he ATTEMPTED to stop me from going to the auditorium (I was a Theatre Arts student) between class-periods. Shamefully I admit hitting him and running.

·       The high school was a specialized art school and we had nine scheduled periods a day plus home room where attendance was taken. My home room was with my very (also Mark’s) favorite teacher, Mr. Tatti taught sculpture. I will never forget the sculpted APE that sat in the front of the classroom, it wound up right in front of me. I remember thinking to myself who the heck would call himself an ape after I saw the engraved letters M E on the butt cheeks of this figure. I later found out that it was a class project created by none other than my husband to be and those were his initials!

·       Although we were both living in the Bronx (NYC) at the time, we traveled different train routes to and from our Manhattan based school. Among the regulars I traveled with was a classmate of his (Photography students). I didn’t know until long after our graduation that they even knew each other.

·       When I was a very little girl my Dad and two other friends founded a sports club and I often accompanied my Father to get togethers especially during my teen years. Mark worked for a fellow who at one time frequented this club and occasionally invited Mark to go with him. I don’t think we ever met up at this club.

·       And while there were so many other little things we had in common, the most ironic of all was, when I was gathering our papers for our marriage license, I noticed on our birth certificates, that we were born in the same hospital and delivered by the same doctor. Ironic because NYC is huge and Mark’s parents didn’t even live in the Bronx when he was born!

Mark and I finally REALLY MET a few years after we both graduated high school and pursued different interests. My parents encouraged my sister and me to give back to the community, and I joined the NYC Auxiliary Police at our local precinct; Mark eventually joined the same unit.

I really believe that we were destined to be in each other’s lives, Bershert! And I have to say, there is no one I would rather be Staying at Home with.

I hope that you are all staying safe and healthy and taking all of the precautions to remain healthy.

.

D-I-V-O-R-C-E

Divorce isn’t a subject you would expect a romance writer to write about… but actually we do. In my novels there have been a few cases where the hero or heroine is divorced. Jake in FINAL SIN, Laynie in COMMON BOND, TANGLED HEARTS, Dave in KARMA VISITED, and Annie in ANNIE’S KARMA; I also had a divorcee in my short story THE VACATION. Basically the rate of divorced characters in my novels is close to the national (expected) rate of divorce — “The marriage breakup rate in America for first marriage is 41% to 50%”.

Although statisticians have noted that the divorce rate has gone downward in more recent years (due to couples getting married at older ages, higher education and financial independence, and more couples living together without marriage, etc.), what breaks a marriage up? Obviously some folks just aren’t “right” for each other and may have gotten hitched because “everybody else was doing it”, sometimes unexpected pressures/tragedies put serious strains on the relationship, interference from outside sources (in-laws? friends?), and sometimes people just grow-apart as they grow-up. Two people can never really be in total agreement about everything, not if they retain their individuality, and it would be kind of boring if they never had different opinions, but if you can’t move past those differences it doesn’t bode well. Unfortunately statisticians also noted that there is an even higher risk of divorce the second time around, possibly that is because “once burnt” means someone’s defensiveness is up.

So can we find love with a divorcee? I believe in the possibility of Happy-Ever-After’s, but I also believe it’s worth understanding what went wrong in their first (or subsequent) marriage. Having seen divorces happen to people I know, my personal observations tend to make me believe that outside interference is a huge risk factor. A meddlesome mother-in-law who can’t let go of her son, a father who pressures his child into a family business that makes him/her miserable, siblings or friends who insert themselves into personal matters and instigate arguments… While I am a firm believer in marital counseling, it can help couples see beyond their alleged differences, it doesn’t always save a marriage.

Aside from finding out what went wrong in the first marriage, and many times you can rely on simple verbal honesty, I would say beware someone who is hiding information or purposely keeping you away from other past friends or family (who might be able to tell you a different story). Also listen to the ex-spouse but don’t necessarily take her/his word as truth. Definite red-flags to note, if anyone suggests that your intended may have been abusive, carefully watch how he/she treats you (not all abuse is physical); if there are children involved in the past relationship, is responsibility being taken (not just financially), this is especially important if you hope to have children with this individual; and of course, if your intended cheated (with you or someone else), you might have a problem.

I think the most important red flag to watch for is did he/she actually let go of the ex-spouse? I have seen it happen where one person said they were divorced when in reality the divorce wasn’t finalized because one of them never signed or it was hung up in a lawyer’s office because there was a disagreement on the settlement of property, alimony or even child care. Make sure that your chosen one is free to begin a new relationship (even if you’re both willing to put the formal ceremony off for a while). Even if a civil divorce can be proven, be aware that there are some religious divorce requirements as well and for any number of reasons one party may be avoiding doing what is right after being married in a religious manner — and why would anyone want to marry a man (or woman) who is still hanging on to their “ex” spouse? And especially if someone is avoiding getting the religious divorce in order to make their ex miserable, would you really want to marry someone who is that spiteful?

Judaism, Islam, and Christianity (for example) require certain procedures in order to release each party from the marriage commitment and enable each to marry someone else if they choose. In a Jewish divorce a husband must submit a written form, known as a “Get”, to his wife as proof of their divorce, without it neither one of them should be able to marry again, but if he is withholding the Get for spite, chances are he is also lying to his new wife (only the man can provide the Get). In an Islamic (Muslim) divorce, the civil divorce (if there was a civil marriage) holds no bearing on the ability to remarry as a Muslim; a lawyer familiar with Islamic precepts must work with the couple’s Iman to create an equitable parting of the ways and possessions. A Catholic divorce will not allow either partner to remarry in the Church, the marriage must be “annulled” which basically denies that the couple was ever married in the sacraments of the church. So make sure that your intended partner is truly free to marry you and is honest from the beginning.

Even with all of this talk about divorce, this romance writer is still a romantic-at-heart. I believe in second chances and true love. I also believe that any commitment, partnership, marriage, or whatever you are calling your relationship, needs to be founded on truth and trust. My parents were married for almost 32-years when my dad suddenly passed away and I truly believe they would still be married and very much in love if they were both still around; the day my mom died there was a cloud in the sky that looked like a staircase to heaven and I’m sure that my dad was waiting at the top as my mom went to him. No marriage is perfect, there will always be disagreements and sometimes tears, but when you put each other first, when you like yourself as well, and when you are openly honest and communicating, then each year is special and life can be pretty wonderful.

#LoveWins

Hello Young Lovers ~ #MondayBlogs

When I was still a newlywed, we had a huge problem with a really pesky neighbor and it was very frustrating. Totally at my wits-end I telephoned my father and asked him what to do. We had a discussion, I don’t remember the exact words (it’s been a lot of years) — after hearing me out, my frustration and my crying, Daddy told me that he would always be happy to help me out BUT had I told my husband my feelings? I answered something like “Not really”.

Daddy didn’t renege on his offer to help me IF I STILL WANTED IT AFTER HIS ADVICE. The main thing my father stressed was that I was a married woman, an adult, who was married to a grown man; we were two adults who made a commitment to each other. While your parents would always be your parents and always care about you and do whatever they could to make your life easier, a married woman OR man should always be a team with her/his spouse. In other words, even if I had been the one to call my dad, I should have been speaking for the two of us.

I’m pretty sure that we have all heard the phrase “Therefore shall a man leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife, and they shall be one flesh” (Genesis 2:24) or “no one was ever intended to come between a husband and a wife” (Matthew 19:6). [Nowadays this should refer to ALL married couples, not just the husband/wife variety] What do these two phrases mean, what did my dad mean about my discussing things with my husband and we should basically speak as one?

When we marry, both sides of the couple, are making the promise to leave the shelter and dependence of our parents and be able to rely and support each other. We need to turn to our spouses first before running to Mommy and Daddy. Our circle as a married couple means that we are the primary relationship and we each need to see each other as our priority, Being a couple should be the MOST IMPORTANT bond. Dependence and dependability on each other not only fosters trust and respect, it also makes a formidable unit which can withstand opposition.

This primary relationship needs to be recognized by more than just the partners but also by the people around them. Parents need to recognize and respect their child’s spouse and need to understand that they should never, ever attempt to get in between that bond. As parents we want to always be there for our children no matter how old they are, we have a need to want to fix things for them, and of course we only want what is best for them even when what we think is best is not what they want.

The time for raising our children and teaching them responsibility should have been going on through all of their adolescent and teen years. By the time our children reach adulthood and enter into a committed relationship, hopefully we have provided them with enough foundation to actually be able to think and do for themselves. And parents can give themselves a pat on the back when their job has been well done and offspring can actually deal with real life. While we will always want to step in, we MUST respect and trust our adult children and that includes respecting and trusting the person he/she chose as a lifelong partner; you can’t truly respect one unless you respect the other.

Parents who nurture an unhealthy relationship are only damaging many lives: If you don’t raise and allow your offspring to act like grown-ups, one day may come when they have to think for themselves and make decisions and the parents may no longer be around; parents who think they need to control their grown child will cause self-doubt, lack of trust for one another and a dependency that may at some point become too heavy a burden for the aging adult; and parents who are constantly intervening in their son or daughter’s relationship run the risk of seriously damaging the bond and creating not only sadness for their child but also resentment against the parents. In an ideal world grown children and parents can have wonderful relationships and can be there for each other when needed but the respect has to go both ways INCLUDING the in-law child.

My dad passed away shortly after our first wedding anniversary and my mom just a year later – ever since those valuable words my dad said to me during that phone call I've turned to my husband (and he has turned to me) and we have always been there for each other. It’s been more than 40 years and my husband and I are still best friends, confidents, support, and the genuine other half — and I owe it all to the fact that my dad recognized that a married couple, even his daughter and her husband, should be the strongest bond and what hath been “joined together, let no man put asunder”.

...

What makes a marriage? ~ #MondayBlogs

How do some marriages last while others simply seem to flare and then die out?

After being married for more than 40 years I may not have the ultimate answer, but I do know what has worked for me. A married couple needs to be many things to each other and for each other.

In my own marriage we have been (and are) lovers, friends, co-parents (2 and 4 legged children), business partners, confidants, “counselors”, co-conspirators, roommates, caretakers, tender hand-holders, escorts, and often devil’s advocate.

No matter how passionate, loving, and fun your union may start out, life happens, and when life’s changes and obstacles get in the way, your focus and needs can change as well. I believe the balance to a solid marriage has to do with being able to step in and out of the myriad of roles you’ve assumed so that even when you are too tired for sex, don’t want to find adventure, or need to adjust to the changing world around you there will still be something solid for you to hold on to.

Not every couple works together as business partners, but marriage still needs to be a partnership sharing the responsibilities, the decisions and the fruits together. No one said everything has to be an even 50/50; sometimes you don’t feel up to giving 50-percent and other times you believe you can take on the world. Your spouse needs to support you mentally and sometimes physically and financially. Trust me when I say it is fun to make dinner together, to go shopping together and share housework (in and out of the house). Joint ventures, whether it is running business or running your home, gives you a combined sense of accomplishment and camaraderie.

There are going to be disagreements and even anger, face it, you didn’t marry yourself (and you probably wouldn’t want to) so there will be differences of opinion. Sometimes you’ll get angry when it may seem as if the differences can’t get resolved. Chances are the anger and possible disappointment may affect your passion, your sex-life, or your comfortable companionship — these are the times to let another aspect of your relationship take over. Talk about decisions you may have coming up, the car you have to replace or even the candidate you plan to vote for; work towards a mutual goal like painting that room you’ve been talking about getting done; and this may be the ideal time to plan some family time with the children and a local amusement park.

The main thing to have in any marriage is unity, togetherness and mutual respect. No marriage is perfect and you’re going to go through rough spots. Learn to rely one of the other roles in your marriage to get you through so that you’re not feeling alone. You are a couple so act together, and be together.

The truth is that it is a very rare occurrence when one person can provide all the needs for another; this is what platonic friends are for, to help fill out the gaps. You should never let yourself rely more strongly on your friends than you do on your partner though. Too many young couples nowadays get married assuring themselves that if things go wrong they can always get a divorce. Some marriages may not be meant to last and separation or divorce may be the smartest option, but there should be no reason to plan on it from the get-go! Be a Jack-of-all-trades when it comes to marriage, be prepared to assume different roles for each other and you will find that your marriage will never have reason to fizzle out.

Unconditional Love ~ #MondayBlogs

Loving someone unconditionally does NOT mean loving them blindly. You need to really know a person in order to love them, faults and all. And it’s okay to not always LIKE them and still LOVE them.

Parents and offspring have been knocking heads together since Adam and Eve had their sons. Never, ever withhold love from a child. Never make them feel that you won’t love them anymore if they struggle in school. It’s alright to let your child know when you are not happy with his actions, that there are consequences for breaking the rules, but NEVER, ever make him feel that he has lost your love. Don’t crush her spirit, destroy his self-confidence, or make her feel alone. A child should always feel the security of her parent’s love.

There are many ways to love, family love between parents and children or siblings, love between friends, love between lovers or spouses, or even love for pets. Love can fill your heart with warmth and happiness; you care deeply about another living being. Love is not dependency although you can’t imagine a world without the one you love in it. Love is not a chore, although it is worth any work you put into it. Love is not a possession even though you want to claim it for your own.

When you love a person for who he or she really is, then you understand his faults and love him anyway. If you claim to love someone but won’t see who he really is, then you merely “love” a fantasy you created and loving only what you want to see. Love without conditions — without limits is a true love, it is deep and real.

Love is a wonder.

The Fairy Tale of Love - #MondayBlogs

Long, long ago in the magical realm known as NYC, lucky young knights and maidens were given the privilege of study at the hallowed halls called A&D where they learned the creative arts… and jousting. It was there that the princess first encountered the prince. She was a fair Theatre Arts student and as was wont in the hallowed halls, the students of Theatre Arts oft lived by their own rules. It was an accepted practice and most monitors of those hallowed halls did tend to look the other way, except for one knight, a prince in disguise, who was most fastidious about the rules. The magic began the day he barred the maiden from joining her stage crew because the sacred bell had not been rung. The maiden had been tutored in the art of sparring by her father, a grand king, and in anger she punched the young knight and raced to the safety of her crew.

Aside from a few rare glimpses in those hallowed halls, the prince and princess had no more encounters for several years, long past their individual assignments at the great castle known as A&D. Several autumns later, perhaps six or so, they chanced again to meet in the massive shelter of the local constabulary — neither was in trouble but they were both duty-bound to serve their communities in the practice of Auxiliary Police. The princess’ father, the grand king, did preside over their unit and looked on this couple with great favor. Together and in spite of their protest, the two did patrol the kingdom on many eves. And so finally at one assignment, a Memorial Day parade detail, the two did chance to speak in a polite way, and before they retreated to their respective castles, the prince did request the fair princess to join him for dinner. Thinking that perchance he was merely being jovial, she did accept; realizing the error she had made, she felt honor bound to accompany him as promised.

They did dine on succulent East Indian dishes, a first for her, and afterwards enjoyed a stage show at Ye Olde Playboy Club and it was indeed a merry night. The one evening was soon followed by two more, nay, four more enjoyable adventures. And after the fourth venture, merely 14 suns and moons later, the young prince refused to return the princess to her castle before eliciting a promise to wed. The princess protested most profusely. She was indeed smitten by his charm but wary of wedlock. It was only when he promised her safe passage to her home in exchange for her acceptance that she did utter the words YES. In truth she had hoped her father, the grand king, would challenge the prince to a duel — to her surprise the king had been hoping for such a union between the kingdoms and truly believed that the prince would make the princess very happy. Still protesting, the princess did begin to love the prince and yearned to become his queen and he her king. Such a match was made on the 28^th of December in the year 1975.

Forty years later to the day, the new king and queen still sit side-by-side on their thrones in a grand castle they managed to conquer in the realm called Hudson Valley. Together they raised a royal princess and prince and watched with love as their offspring enjoyed adventures and fairy tales of their own; the new generation of royals have found their own true loves and are now kings and queens of their own monarchs The vast rooms of their castle have seen many laughs and loving gestures through the seasons as well as the pitter patter of many mythical felines.

And the fairy tale continues…

#MondayBlogs ~ Peter Pan and the Circle of Life

With Mother’s Day just behind us (although moms will always be MOM), I find myself reflecting on my childhood and thinking about my mom and dad, both long gone, my Grandma, my aunts and uncles (most also gone) and even a few cousins, all younger than me. So many losses and I miss them all, but so many wonderful memories for me to hold on to.

When I was just five years old my paternal grandfather passed away. I remember being horrified at my dad’s tears and pain and I told my father that I never wanted to grow up. He asked me why and I told him, in my child’s frame of mind, that growing up meant that you lose people you love. I remember how he chuckled and hugged me; he told me that it could happen that way and that some order of loss was natural such as a child burying a parent.

He admitted that he was sad, but that growing up for him had meant finding his love, my mom, and having my sister and me. Daddy told me how happy he was with his life even though he had tears along the way. Although I was still frightened, my dad’s words helped me cope with the loss of my grandfather. Eighteen years later I sat at my father’s funeral and heard his words in my mind; once again he helped me cope. That year started a whirlwind of loss, eighteen days later my father-in-law passed away — in less than five years we buried both fathers and both mothers. Despite my father’s wise words, I wanted to go back to playing Peter Pan who never wanted to grow up.

Today, while I admit to thoughts about people I’ve loved and lost, I enjoyed a wonderful Mother’s Day. Because my loving husband is “under the weather” with a bad head cold we decided to have a family brunch right here. Our two children and their respective spouses (or as I prefer to say, my FOUR kids), my husband and I sat at the dining room table and enjoyed a simple but indulgent feast. While filling our plates and stuffing our mouths, there was laughter and joy. There were flowers and cards and smiles and warmth. My heart was so full with all of the riches of my life. The pangs of loss never go away, it never really gets better, but my dad was right. I grew up and have had so many wonderful things come in to my life.

My husband and I are married forty years this coming December; our daughter and her husband just celebrated their eighth anniversary; and our son and his bride just tied the knot last December after a lengthy courtship. I wish our parents were here to see their grandchildren and the wonderful people that they are, but I am sure they are looking in from heaven. My daughter is named for my mother and my son for my dad and mother-in-law and so often they remind me how appropriate the namesakes are. In the meanwhile I am celebrating my life and the memories we are making together, memories that will live on for generation, memories that will one day be the .stories told by my children and G-d willing my grandchildren… and maybe even beyond.

Life is good.

Many of my stories center around family dynamics, good and bad. Sometimes that's a challenge for me since many of my memories are on the positive side, but I do love writing about a "good" villain, lol.

Summertime reading is just around the corner, please check out my books, I am sure you can even find a few you can relate to... 

 http://chellecordero.com/

Happy Anniversary to My Loving Husband — #MondayBlogs

My husband and I celebrated our 39^th wedding anniversary yesterday… time flies. Thirty-nine wonderful years. I admit, there are times we had to work at it — work hard — but it has been worth it.

We went to the same high school (High School of Art & Design in NYC) but the only memory I have of him was a confrontation in the school halls when he, as an anal hall monitor, tried to stop me from going down to the auditorium between class periods. (I was a Theatre Arts student and we had a show to prepare for). It wasn’t until years later when we were both volunteers with the NYC Auxiliary Police that we really had a chance to talk with each other… and we instantly disliked each other. Thanks to the meddling of our superior officers (my own dad was our Auxiliary Captain) we finally went out on a date. Two weeks later we were engaged; our wedding date was set for December 28, 1975.

I was late to the wedding!

In my defense I had a valid excuse, my sister (my MOH) fell down a flight of stairs and in the age before cell phones I couldn’t reach Mark to let him know. Luckily he waited for me. Yes we were married with all four of our parents standing under the chuppa with us, and my sister was a real trooper and hobbled down the aisle in her everyday flat shoes instead of the dressy heels that went with her dress. It was so sweet when I spoke the words “Ani l’dodi, v’dodi li” (I am to my beloved as my beloved is to me). Mark had our wedding rings engraved “plus qu'hier, moins que demain"(More than yesterday, less than tomorrow).

After the ceremony my mom, with all the stress of planning and then worry over my sister’s accident, had a diabetic reaction and spent most of the afternoon lying in the bridal suite — she refused to let us call an ambulance. By the end of the reception she was feeling better and soon it was time to leave.

We planned to spend the first night of our married life in our own apartment in Rockland County so we drove IN A BLIZZARD from Queens over the Tappan Zee Bridge. By the time we reached the garden apartment complex I was in tears from worry about my mom and my sister. Since we didn’t  have a phone installed in the apartment Mark found a pay phone (in 1975 that was all we had). The snow drift was piled so high and Mark in his tuxedo carried me in my bridal gown over the snow. All was well back in the Bronx and we were able to relax back in our own apartment. The next morning we traversed semi-plowed snow covered roads to the Poconos for our honeymoon and we enjoyed the holidays and our first New Year’s Eve as Mr. and Mrs.

Through the years we suffered the loss of all four parents in a relatively short time period. We also celebrated the birth of two fantastic children [a daughter and a son], job and career changes, a house with a yard for the kids to play, and watching them as they grew and experienced life and the world. There were money problems and health issues, arguments and making up, laughter and tears, friendships that came and went, public accolades in our respective careers, family births, and the loss of some dear relatives. We’ve celebrated holidays with our sisters and their families, got to witness graduations, bar and bat mitzvahs and weddings for the next generation. Both of our children are married now, and our in-law children are wonderful, and we’re at the empty-nester stage and talking about eventual retirement. It’s definitely been a “ride”.

Sometimes our plans went astray, but we’ve adapted TOGETHER. Our marriage has been a lot of work and it definitely has worked for us.

The biggest constant throughout our married life has always been that I have woken every single morning having fallen more in love than I was the day before — and he has always shown me that it goes both ways.

I love you, Mark. Happy anniversary, Sweetheart.

page 69 theory - Karma Visited

There is a theory that if you pick up a book and turn to page 69, you will know if the book is interesting or not

so we are putting it to the test...

~~~~~~

p 69

“I’m not feeling well.”

“Well you better damn well get yourself … up to it. This is my night and I expect you there. The whole town will expect to see you there.”

Annie spent a good part of the night crying and her head felt like it was going to explode. There was no way she felt up to acting on command. “Scott, I can’t.” She started to clear the table from the breakfast dishes.

Scott shot up from his seat and grabbed her arm. Annie spilled the half cup of cold coffee she had just picked up. “You are going. That’s it.”

She tried to pull her arm back. He wouldn’t let go. “Scott, you’re hurting me.”

“You will be there tonight or I will really hurt you.”

“No.” Annie was trying not to cry. “I… just can’t go tonight,”

She struggled to get away. He shoved her and she fell to the ground.

Before Annie could get up, Scott turned to his mother and told her to call the doctor. He held her down. “Okay, you want an excuse not to go?”

Annie could hear Dianne on the phone. “Yes, she tried to hurt herself. Yes, twenty-four hours, yes.”

“We’ll bring her in. Make sure he’s got everything arranged.”

“No, Scott please.”

“Now you don’t have to go anywhere tonight.”

An orderly met Scott and Dianne at the door as they struggled to bring Annie into the facility. Scott forced pills down Annie’s throat at the house and she was no longer speaking clearly. Her protests were incomprehensible rants to bystander ears.

The attending doctor instructed the orderly and a nurse to bring her into a room and use restraints. “Prepare to give her five of Haldol.” The doctor hoped the antipsychotic would help bring her out of her manic behavior. He turned his attention back to the seemingly distraught husband. “How long has she been like this?”

No one believed her when she denied trying to hurt herself. Scott appeared appropriately upset and Dianne comforted him.

“This episode?”Scott looked directly into the doctor’s face. “She’s been off since she got up this morning. We were having breakfast and she went into the kitchen and got a knife…”

“Did she try to attack you or your mother?”

“No. I don’t think that was her intention. At least I didn’t get that impression.” He feigned innocence. “It’s been a while since she’s had an episode like this.”

Annie tried to call Scott a liar but the words wouldn’t come out.

“Do you know if she took anything?” The doctor headed towards the room Annie was in.

“No. I mean she was out of my sight for about a minute or two, that’s when she got the knife.” Scott and his mother followed closely behind.

Karma Visited

Do you believe in karma? Annie Furman has a gift that allows her, while she sleeps, to visit people in their time of need - but who will be there for her when she needs help? Undersheriff Dave Turner is investigating a series of home invasions and homicides. He has no idea that solving this case will lead him to the woman of his dreams.

Ahh, the Romance of it All

As I watch my son and future daughter-in-law prepare for their wedding later this year, I feel all sorts of "gushy" about romance; I guess I was the same way seven years ago when my daughter was getting married.

When Mark and I were married more than 38-years ago I remember the stress that went into trying to please everyone and the concessions that were made from the dreams I had of my perfect wedding - but more than anything I remember the first time I looked at the man that I was able to call husband and knew that he was the most important part of my life and always would be. When he took my hand to walk with me up the aisle after the traditional kiss, I knew that was what pure love felt like.

I love to write about love and romance and passion in my books. I've written a few wedding ceremonies into the stories as well and I have fun with those. In the following excerpt from His Lucky Charm the heroine's best friend Keisha marries the love of her life Malcolm in an African inspired ceremony:

Malcolm had explained many of the traditions and rituals of their wedding to Brandon. He had told him that the wedding was the union of not just the couple, but of their families and their lives. Their parents and immediate families were just as much a part of the ceremony as the couple.

It was a very spiritual time with prayers that were begun weeks earlier.

Keisha’s father blessed his daughter and son as he now referred to Malcolm. Malcolm’s mother tied a loose string of conchi shells around Keisha’s neck as a sign of fertility and luck for a happy family. The priest conducted the service interjecting the civil requirements among the prayers and blessings.

Malcolm spoke to his bride thanking her for completing his life. “A man without a wife is a man without a home.” He promised to keep her happy and provide for her and he placed a simple band on her finger.

Keisha promised that her love for Malcolm would be never-ending like the circle of the wedding band. Then she placed a ring on his finger.

Both mothers took turns reciting an African marriage creed. Brandon noticed Caitlyn look downward as they gave the advice to “Be Open With Each Other. Bind not yourselves in the secretiveness that causes suspicion and doubt. Trust and reveal yourselves to each other, even as the budding rose opens to reveal its fragrance and beauty.”

He berated himself again for having kept secrets from the woman he loved and wondered if he would ever have the opportunity again to reveal his true self to her. More than that, he worried that she no longer had an interest in him or of learning his truths.

The ceremony concluded with Malcolm’s father tying Keisha and Malcolm’s wrists together with a purple cloth to symbolize their union. Together they jumped over a broom laid on the floor to show that they were starting fresh and welcoming the new path before them. Smiling and happy, they walked together up the aisle to the back of the church while the audience applauded.

The parents followed the happy couple and so did Caitlyn and Malcolm’s brother. Caitlyn noticed Brandon in the back row as she neared the door and her steps faltered. The best man placed a hand under her elbow and looked in the direction of her distraction. The smile Caitlyn had been wearing quickly left her face and she turned away from Brandon as she regained her footing.

Smashwords        Amazon       Barnes&Noble 
KOBO         All Romance         Apple iTunes

Everyone should have a good person to love.

May 9, 2012
Thank you Mr. President!

(excerpt from Final Sin)

            "Tell me more about you.  I want to know you."  She spread her hand against his chest.  "Tell me what you were like as a child.  What's your family like?"

            He shrugged slightly.  "I was just an ordinary boy, nothing special."

            "I don't believe that.  There is certainly nothing ordinary about you now."

            "Nobody expected anything great out of me.  At least I didn't let them down."

            "I think you are underestimating yourself.  I think you are kind of great."

            He gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze.  "My parents weren't thrilled when I got together with Helen.  They thought I was, well, thinking with the wrong brain."  Jake sighed.  "I think they were surprised when I decided to work towards my degree anyway."

            Julie yawned.  "Oh, I'm sorry. That was rude."

            "You need your sleep."

            "No, I want to hear about you."  She was fighting to stay awake.  "How did they feel when you got divorced?  Did your folks like her?"

            "I don't really know how my dad felt, he never really said.  Maybe he was just too busy letting my mom do the talking… I embarrassed her, I was the first to get divorced in the family.  I don't think my mother liked her, she just felt that once I was married, I should have stayed that way."

            "Is your sister married?"

            "Well… that was another reason for my mom to complain.  My sister has a partner, a same sex partner."  His mother's lament was having a son who couldn't keep a wife and a daughter who didn't choose a man.  "My sister and her partner came out, they're lesbians."  Jake wondered if he was just trying to see how Julie would react to that.  She didn't flinch.

            She looked up at him in the darkened shadows.  "And your parents didn't approve?  How about you?"

            "I guess I was a little uncomfortable at first, I had never known anyone, really known that is, who was… homosexual."  He shifted a bit.  "But then I went out to visit them, they live in California, and they are really happy together.  Maggie makes my sister really happy and that's important to me."

            "That's good."  She sounded like she was beginning to drift off.  "Everyone should have a good person to love."

###

Final Sin    by Chelle Cordero
84500 words. Published by Vanilla Heart Publishing on June 13, 2009. Fiction. 
Deputy Sherriff Commander Jake Carson has his hands full... investigation of a brutal multiple homicide, a troubled son and a vindictive ex-wife. He meets young, free-spirited paramedic Julie Jennings. When Julie becomes the subject of an obsession, it puts both of them in danger...

Virtual Blog Tour for Hyphema

Join me as the Hyphema Virtual Blog Tour

kicks off on Thursday, April 21

on Lindsay's Romantics

When a character lingers...

Here are some of the Hyphema tour stops ~ more will be added...

• 21-Apr Thurs http://lindsaysromantics.blogspot.com/ Lindsay's Romantics
• 23-Apr Sat http://jeannestjames.blogspot.com Jeanne St. James
• 24-Apr Sun http://anne-k-albert.blogspot.com/ Anne K Albert
• 29-Apr Fri http://thebookconnectionccm.blogspot.com The Book Connection
• 1-May Sun http://rochelleweber.blogspot.com/ Rochelle Weber
• 3-May Tues http://authorcharmainegordon.xanga.com/ Charmaine Gordon
• 10-May Tues http://yougottareadguest.blogspot.com/ You Gotta Read
• 11-May Wed http://roseannedowellauthor.blogspot.com Roseanne Dowell
• 18-May Wed http://skylarkade.com/blog Skylar Kade

Visit my Smashwords Profile Page for multiple ebook formats of all my books.

An Interview With Deanna

Welcome to today’s CC-Talk show…

We’re talking with Deanna Blair Hunter from the pages of Hostage Heart about being married to an F.B.I. Special Agent...

Hi Deanna, thanks for coming in today. One of our listeners sent in an interesting question: What is it like to be married to an F.B.I. Agent?

They don’t use the title Agent, they are all Special Agents. Actually it’s not really any different from being married to a police officer. I met my husband Ryan in kind of unusual circumstances – he was working undercover – so I didn’t really know who he was when I fell in love with him. That was difficult because I thought he was killed and I really never dreamt that we’d be together again.

Oh wow. That must have been hard. Does he go undercover a lot?

Fortunately he doesn’t get many undercover assignments anymore. There are a lot of times he can’t speak to me about his work especially if he’s involved in an investigation. I had to learn not to keep asking him too much about his work.

Does he spend a lot of time away from home for work?

Most nights he comes home to our little ones and me. He is based out of a local office and he does most of his work locally. You get assigned to an office but once you are there, you usually remain in the same place for a long time. Once in a while he has to go away for a few days for a special investigation or a training exercise.

Is there a lot of danger? Are you worried that he night get hurt?

Sometimes he has to deal with some bad people and there is always a danger. But there is a lot of his work, like many law enforcement people, that happens at his desk, he hates paperwork. The day that we got married Ryan was in a wheelchair because he had gotten hurt. I’ve learned to count my blessings each day he comes home to me in one healthy piece.

Do you have any advice for someone who wants to marry an F.B.I. Special Agent?

Understand that your husband, or wife, may get moody sometimes because they are working on a case and they really can’t talk it out in front of you. They are under a lot of stress so it is good if you try to keep calm and happy. It’s also real important that they stay fit and healthy, that you can support them a bit and help them live a good lifestyle.

My daddy gave me advice early in my marriage – he said to see if I could speak to wives of other F.B.I. Special Agents. There is a lot of support within the families, it’s a little bit like military families. That was the best advice I ever got.

buy links
print
Kindle

NookBook

Smashwords (multi-ebook formats)

excerpt

Deanna did her mourning in private. The police psychologist suggested that she speak to a counselor. No one understood. A few nights after she was home, Deanna had a dream about Ryan – she was in his arms. Her mamere was in the dream too and she was happy that Deanna was with Ryan. She knew that Ryan was meant to be her soul mate, she just couldn’t understand why it was over so soon. Her dream mamere told her that the best was yet to come, but when she woke, she was confused.

Although she had to make a statement for the District Attorney’s office about the bank robbery, they had kindly allowed her to give a taped deposition. She was extremely relieved not to have to face the surviving kidnappers again. The DA assured her that the bank robbers turned kidnappers would be put away for a long, long time. To her dismay, she learned that the robberies they staged were used to help finance suspected terrorist activities. She still couldn’t accept that Ryan had been involved in something like that.

Fortunately Rob let her come back to work. He told her he understood that the loss of the money wasn’t her fault. Then he told the police, the F.B.I. and his insurance agency that the loss was twice the actual amount. Deanna kept quiet and she felt guilty. But she was desperate to hold onto her job. She had told her parents about the bank robbery but not the kidnapping. Deanna knew they would have made her come home if they had known the whole truth.

Rob told her how worried he had been when he got the phone call from her kidnapper. He said he prayed for her safe return to him. He became possessive. Deanna found herself working with him more and more, he scheduled her work hours closer to his own. She briefly suspected that he might not trust her alone with the cash register. Then Rob made it clear that he wanted to be with her. Deanna suspected that his ultimate plans included a more personal relationship. There had been several unsolicited invitations for a quick bite to eat or more after work. It wasn’t long before he stopped being subtle.

The feeling wasn’t mutual, but Deanna decided she had to move on or she would never recover from her all too brief love affair with Ryan. Ryan was gone, she was still alive. Rob was there and he didn’t hide the fact that he wanted her. He had more than once offered to comfort her after her terrible ordeal. Despite her denials, he let her know that he suspected she had suffered after she was held hostage by four men for several days. Rob said he wanted to help her heal her wounds.

Before this, Deanna had never considered the idea of involvement with Rob. He was her boss, but he kept planting the seed in her mind. She accepted his dinner invitation for that Saturday night. She tried to concentrate on her work for the rest of the week, but she couldn’t ignore the nervous twinges in her gut. It was enough to get her sick and she left work early on Friday and stopped by the clinic on her way home.

Rob had given Deanna Saturday off and teased her that she would have all day to get ready for their date. Deanna got herself dressed and was standing in front of the bathroom mirror when she burst into tears. She had been in control ever since the doctor told her that she was expecting the day before but after having all day to dwell on it, Deanna was scared. She had no idea how she was going to be able to manage; certainly she would have to stop sending money home to her parents.