Happy Happy Hellos Everyone!!!
I hope all is well with you. It's hard to believe so much time has gone by since I last posted. The summer is over. The 2013-2014 school has begun. The football season has commenced and the holidays are on the way. In the mist of all of those exciting events, I have not only been able to created a few wonderful keepsake boxes and greeting cards (just haven't managed time to photograph them), I finished my book...Blew Monday.
I will have my first book signing on Saturday, November 9th at The Secret On Main Street Artsy Boutique, 214 Main Street in Reisterstown, Maryland from 1:00 PM until 5PM. If you live in the commuting area I invite you to come out and join me and a few others as they get acquainted with a few of my fictitious friends.
If you are unable to come to the book signing and would like to purchase a book go to: www.thepeddlersgallery.com and pre-order a copy. All pre-orders will ship on November 1st. Below is a brief except from Blew Monday. I hope you enjoy it enough to want to read more.
ALthough he was standing in the center of the doorway, Clarke didn’t spot him at first. She was drinking her preferred gourmet tea, French Vanilla Blend, when she raised her eyes above the rim of the hearty tea-mug she held onto so firmly. Her petite hands gave an impression they were even smaller when she interlocked her fingers snugly around her favorite mug. However, she immediately noticed him when he entered the room. It was discernible for anyone to assume this was his first visit to Bigelow’s. His eyes gazed around the room like a feline on the prowl for mischief only he was searching for some familiarity.
Almost in a whisper she asked, “What’s he doing here?” She glanced at her wristwatch. “He’s not supposed to be here for another hour.” God, he looks good! Clarke thought.
He looked as though he’d just stepped out of Essence’s Sexiest Man of the Year Issue. His locks, that gently swept his shoulders when they were loose, were pulled back in a neat ponytail that now hung slightly above his shoulders. The colors he wore weren’t just for the season; it was as if God created those colors with him in mind. He was casually dressed in a pair of pleated platinum suede slacks that anyone could see were tailor-made to fit him and him alone. His baby blue powered ribbed turtleneck clung to his body like the color blue clings to the sky. A silver crucifix hung down his chest—not too big, but not too small. Amazingly, the crucifix matched his ego—it was just large enough to indicate, he was one of God’s children. Clarke always heard people say, “Clothes make the man!” but she thought, “Uhn! Uhn! Not in his case.” In this case, he definitely made the clothes. He always looked like he was dressed for any occasion. To Clarke, he could have entered the room after pumping iron for hours and he would have still smelled amazing, like the first time she brushed up against him.
Clarke placed her mug of French Vanilla Tea back on the table. She positioned her unusually warm hand over the right hand of the man she cared for, so dearly. He liked that. He liked her gentle touch. It always soothed him. Thinking back Clarke couldn’t believe how time had allowed them to stock-up on treasured memories only to be robbed of them later. The memories they shared were as fresh as when they were conceived. No matter who would become a part of her tomorrow, her reminiscences of their time together would forever remain a part of her, a part of her history.
Well, thanks for stopping by The Peddler's Gallery and come back real soon.
I hope all is well with you. It's hard to believe so much time has gone by since I last posted. The summer is over. The 2013-2014 school has begun. The football season has commenced and the holidays are on the way. In the mist of all of those exciting events, I have not only been able to created a few wonderful keepsake boxes and greeting cards (just haven't managed time to photograph them), I finished my book...Blew Monday.I will have my first book signing on Saturday, November 9th at The Secret On Main Street Artsy Boutique, 214 Main Street in Reisterstown, Maryland from 1:00 PM until 5PM. If you live in the commuting area I invite you to come out and join me and a few others as they get acquainted with a few of my fictitious friends.
If you are unable to come to the book signing and would like to purchase a book go to: www.thepeddlersgallery.com and pre-order a copy. All pre-orders will ship on November 1st. Below is a brief except from Blew Monday. I hope you enjoy it enough to want to read more.
ALthough he was standing in the center of the doorway, Clarke didn’t spot him at first. She was drinking her preferred gourmet tea, French Vanilla Blend, when she raised her eyes above the rim of the hearty tea-mug she held onto so firmly. Her petite hands gave an impression they were even smaller when she interlocked her fingers snugly around her favorite mug. However, she immediately noticed him when he entered the room. It was discernible for anyone to assume this was his first visit to Bigelow’s. His eyes gazed around the room like a feline on the prowl for mischief only he was searching for some familiarity.
Almost in a whisper she asked, “What’s he doing here?” She glanced at her wristwatch. “He’s not supposed to be here for another hour.” God, he looks good! Clarke thought.
He looked as though he’d just stepped out of Essence’s Sexiest Man of the Year Issue. His locks, that gently swept his shoulders when they were loose, were pulled back in a neat ponytail that now hung slightly above his shoulders. The colors he wore weren’t just for the season; it was as if God created those colors with him in mind. He was casually dressed in a pair of pleated platinum suede slacks that anyone could see were tailor-made to fit him and him alone. His baby blue powered ribbed turtleneck clung to his body like the color blue clings to the sky. A silver crucifix hung down his chest—not too big, but not too small. Amazingly, the crucifix matched his ego—it was just large enough to indicate, he was one of God’s children. Clarke always heard people say, “Clothes make the man!” but she thought, “Uhn! Uhn! Not in his case.” In this case, he definitely made the clothes. He always looked like he was dressed for any occasion. To Clarke, he could have entered the room after pumping iron for hours and he would have still smelled amazing, like the first time she brushed up against him.
Clarke placed her mug of French Vanilla Tea back on the table. She positioned her unusually warm hand over the right hand of the man she cared for, so dearly. He liked that. He liked her gentle touch. It always soothed him. Thinking back Clarke couldn’t believe how time had allowed them to stock-up on treasured memories only to be robbed of them later. The memories they shared were as fresh as when they were conceived. No matter who would become a part of her tomorrow, her reminiscences of their time together would forever remain a part of her, a part of her history.
Well, thanks for stopping by The Peddler's Gallery and come back real soon.
