Barbara Mason's Blog

After my sons death, I sang this song for him.
http://www.singsnap.com/karaoke/watch...

Jan 31, 1 day freedownload.

It was a time of free love, flower power and music. It was also a time of questions and conflict. Many would see the sixties as a time of turmoil. Jinx knew it as a time of survival. Children of that era did not have many laws to protect them or keep them from the monster in their own homes. Some survived, some did not. This is Jinx’s story of survival and death, sorrow and joy. There are worse things than that which goes bump in the night. Would you be able to live this life and come out the other side

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New release, free today download today, Oct 27.

"Sometimes dreams come true," Ashlyn whispered as she gazed out her second floor bedroom window, "Sometimes they don't."
She sighed as she turned away from the snow filled world and walked slowly back into the room. Today was her 40th birthday. In a few weeks it would be Christmas then New Years...New Years when new beginnings should start. Ashlyn sat down on the edge of the bed and gently rubbed between Drakes ears. The champagne mink colored cat purred louder as he bumped his head harder against Ashlyn's hand. She smiled down at her only companion. Gently she patted his head one last time and rose from the bed.
Ashlyn paced back and forth across the room, from window to bed and back she thought about her life to this point. Being alone had been her choice from the time she was a young teen. So much easier and a lot less messier then having too many people who would crowd her life. Until today, Ashlyn had been happy with the choices she had made. Spending her birthday, Christmas and New Years alone was not unusual, as a matter of fact it was preferred. Yet for some reason, this year, she felt a yearning, for the one year that she had not spent alone. The only time she had allowed another human being to share her precious space. Twenty five seemed so long ago.

She was only a year out of college when Ashlyn had landed an interview with one of the most prestigious fashion houses in New York, Chaffin and Dunn. Excitement poured out of Ashlyn as she looked over her portfolio one more time. Her best sketches were in there and she was proud of all of them, each one a labor of love and hard work. Ashlyn had been keep waiting for over an hour beyond her original appointment time, but she did not care. Just to be here was truly a dream come true. Her sketches would speak for themselves once she was given audience with the great Aaron Chaffin himself. He was the first partner of Chaffin and Dunn.
Two hours later the cheeky young associate tapped her pencil on the desk in front of her to get Ashlyn's attention.
"You can go in now Miss Grey, Mr Chaffin is ready for you."
Ashlyn rose with grace and adjusted the knee length red skirt. She smoothed out the wrinkles and checked that the silk white blouse had not come untucked. The outfit was her own design created to show off her slender legs and lean shape to its best advantage. She ran her hands through her straight short black hair, nodded once to the young associate and entered the slightly open door.
Ashlyn was surprised and pleased by the room she had entered. Tastefully done in shades of dark and light browns, the room had a welcome warm feel to it. A light cough near by brought Ashlyn's attention back to the man who sat on a light brown leather couch. Brows furled as Ashlyn took in the man. This was not Aaron Chaffin. Light brown hair cut short and well styled spiked above a tan shaped face. Piercing blue eyes looked back at her with a hint of surprise before his expression blanked out.
"I'm sorry," Ashlyn said in a husky whisper, "I must have walked through the wrong door, I was expecting Mr. Chaffin."
Humor glinted in the man's eyes for a moment before he replied.
"No Miss Grey, you chose the right door. I'm Terrence Chaffin, head of personal. Please be seated." He indicated the couch behind him and waited for Aslyn to seat herself. He did not miss the disappointment in her eyes before she lower them to the hands she folded in her lap.
"I'm sorry Miss Grey if you expected my father. He has not been in on the hiring part of the business for several years now."
Ashlyn finally raised her dark brown eyes to meet Terrence's own blue ones. Terrence felt a slight shock as his stomache clenched. He could drown in those eyes and do so happily. He shook his head slightly to clear and caught the hesitation in Ashlyn's voice.
"I did have hopes of meeting with Mr. Chaffin Sr, I will not lie. I had not realized he had a son."
Terrence watched her lips as she spoke. He realized with a start that he would like nothing better then to kiss them right now. Terrence clamped a tight lid on his desires and silently berated himself. Never had he allowed his emotions such control before. Yet somehow, this lovely woman before him had brought them out without so much as a glance.
"Lets have a look then Miss Grey, I'm afraid my time is a little short today."
Ashlyn frowned at the briskness that had suddenly entered Terrence Chaffin's voice. She set her portfolio on the coffee table before her. Ashlyn undid the ties that held it close and flipped it open to the first print.
Terrence sat beside her yet far enough away so as not to touch her. He studied page after page of sketches. Ashlyn watched his face closely but could detect no emotion behind the now cold blue eyes.
Finally, after fifteen minutes of silence, Terrence closed the portfolio.
"These are good, very good Miss Grey. You have a flair for the unusual that works with clean precise lines." He glanced over at her as he continued, "I would like to borrow one of the prints to show to my fashion editor as well as her staff if that would meet with your approval. I will also go over your resume and work experience and get back to you later in the week."
Stunned that the interview was over before it had really even began, Ashlyn nodded.
"Very well then," Terrence stood up abruptly and held out his hand to Ashlyn, "It was a pleasure to meet you Miss Grey and I am sure you know your way out. Good day."
With that, Ashlyn found herself once more in the reception room.
"Well, indeed, how rude." she commented as she waited for the elevator.
It was an agonized week later before Ashlyn heard once more from Chaffin and Dunn. This time it was in a form letter, the company's letter head graced the envelope.
"We regret to inform you that at this time Chaffin and Dunn are not in the market for your style of fashion. Although we believe you have good potential we are in need of a more profession approach. Please feel free, at a later date and after a little more experience, to submit your sketches once more. We will keep you under consideration. Thank you for applying at Chaffin and Dunn. Sincerely-Liberty Ross-Fashion editor-Chaffin and Dunn.
Ashlyn's heart nearly broke, tears formed but did not fall. The cold callous letter made her feel rejection so deep that she couldn't think, could hardly breathe. Her apartment door bell jerked Ashlyn from the edge of depression. When she opened the door, all Ashlyn could see were red roses and yellow day-lilies. Somewhere behind that massive garden a voice piped up.
"Delivery for a Miss Ashlyn Grey?"
"I..yes, I'm Ashlyn Grey," she stammered as the flowers pushed their way into the small apartment. Suddenly, it felt crowded.
"Were can I set these Miss Grey?" Once more the voice come out of the flowers.
"Oh, sorry, right here will have to do."
Ashlyn grabbed a coat sleeve on the delivery man and lead him to the coffee table. A small, grey haired man in a florist coat turned to Ashlyn after he sat the flowers down. He tipped a finger to his hat.
"Good day to you Miss Grey, lovely bunch you have there," then he was gone.
Ashlyn stood and stared at the flowers that covered her coffee table. They were beautiful and somehow exotic. But who on earth would send such a display? She reached into the mass to find the florist card.
"Dear Miss Grey, I am sorry that our Fashion Editor did not need your services at this time. Please accept my heartfelt regrets. Sincerely, Terrence Chaffin.
"Well! Well..."
Ashlyn didn't know what to think. Did Mr Chaffin send flowers to all his rejected applicants?
The next week passed slowly as Ashlyn prepared more resumes to send out to lesser fashion houses. It was arrogant of her to assume that Chaffin and Dunn would just simply snatch her up. She shook her head at her own childish hurt feelings and went to answer her doorbell.
Once again red roses and yellow day-lilies met her gaze.
"Oh for pity sake," she mumbled.
"Are you there Miss Grey?" came the same piping voice from behind the flowers.
"What? Oh sorry, yes, please come in."
And so began the fast moving romance of Ashlyn Grey and Terrence Chaffin.

·
Within the frozen tundra
down and ice bound hill,
frolicking in the new born snow
getting such a thrill,
northern lights are shining
on this blessed night,
rippling on the breeze
sending out its light,
howling in the distance
as the moon peeks out,
upon a scene of joyful play
of which there is no doubt,
one single little wolf cub
lost and all alone,
sits in the snow bank
wishing he were home,
the playing of the polar bears
draws him out to see,
if he could only play too
with such abandoned glee,
Mama bear is watching him
with such a thoughtful frown,
time to hide his head in the snow
flatten his body to the ground,
Slowly she lumbers over to
him so graceful on her feet,
digging gentle in the snow
nose to nose they meet,
nudging him in the side
she sends him out on the ice,
slipping sliding spinning around
going in circles once then twice,
pure white babies gather around
this interesting new play mate,
pushing each other in the snow
without a touch of hate,
sitting and panting
a smile upon his face,
the wolf cub licked them all
as they froze in place,
yapping with excitement
the pup began to spin,
oh what a joyous night
let the games begin,
a ring has formed
all the way around,
this deep depression
in the ground,
as the wolves watch
the little ones play,
the polar bears start
to lean and sway,
thumping their paws
to their own beat,
the sounds from the hallow
start stop and repeat,
the wolves lend their voices
to this unlikely tune,
praising their fathers
and the full moon,
may your heart be filled
with joy and then,
may your enemies become
your best friend.

Dance in the Shadows

Chapter 1

I believe school was made for kids like me. We were the throw away kids. We were the ones who could only get relief from the everyday horrors of home life by going to school. I looked forward to the first day of kindergarten but kept my excitement to myself. If mama had known that I was going to enjoy it, she would have found a way to keep me home. Joy in my life was not encouraged.

As we walked into Mrs. Ross’s home room, I hide behind mama. I may have been excited, but I was also terrified. I had never had a playmate or interacted in any way with other kids. A shyness I did not know I had made itself known that day. It pleased mama a great deal that I was afraid. It seemed to give her some kind of satisfaction. She had to drag me from behind her and physically put me in an empty chair near the middle of the class room. She smiled at the teacher and exchanged a few words with her. Than mama turned to glare at me before she left the room.
I swallowed hard as I looked around at my surroundings. There was so much to look at that it made my head dizzy. ABC’s lined the top of wall near the ceiling while cut out animals played around the lower walls. There were cubby holes and coat hooks, mats and pillows. Suddenly there were other children who skipped, laughed and talked as they crowded into the room. A bell rang outside the door and the other kids rushed to find their desks. I couldn’t move, so amazed was I by all that the noise.
Mrs. Ross clapped her hands together and the room went silent. She smiled as she took a sheet of paper from her desk and started to read names. She instructed us to reply “present” as she read them out. It wasn’t long before she came to my name. She did not read my name out as I waited my turn to whisper “present”.
“There must be a mistake in spelling. Is there a Jinx Joelee Monroe here?”
“Present,” I whispered. Mrs. Ross looked over at me.
“Your name is Jinx, honey?”
“Yes Mrs. Ross,” I replied.
She stared down at the paper once more. Mrs. Ross remained silent for a few minutes before she continued down the list. When she had finished what she said was “roll call”, Mrs. Ross set the paper on her desk and walked toward where I sat. I flinched as she squatted down beside my chair. A strange look crossed her face as I straightened up.
“Jinx, do you mind if we all just called you by your initials?”
I was a very smart child for I knew what initials meant. But I did not understand why she would want to use them. She must have seen the confusion on my face for she rushed to explain herself.
“I think it would be so much easier if we could call you Jay-Jay.”
I looked Mrs. Ross in the eye then. I smiled a little I nodded my head yes. I didn’t tell her that my mama named me that for a reason. I was just pure bad luck.
From that day on I would become Jay-Jay at school. It was months before mama found out about it and demanded a conference with the teacher. I don’t know what was said that day between mama and Mrs. Ross. I got a good beaten when she got home, but I got to keep the name.
A new world had opened up for me when I became old enough to go to school. I made friends even though I was not allowed to go to their house after school or them to mine. For some reason, it did not matter. My name was Jay-Jay Monroe and I had friends.

School was heaven as far as I was concerned. I learned fast and loved every moment of it. I was free for a few hours a day and didn’t have to look over my shoulder all the time. Marie Lane became my best friend. Marie was beautiful to me with her long curly blond hair and china blue eyes. When she laughed, which was a lot, everyone laughed with her. I was the quiet one while Marie was out going and fun. She would sit and braid my long dark brown hair at recess while she told me she wished her eyes were green like mine. I thought she just said that to be nice. After all, mama said I was not a pretty girl at all.

One day, a lady had come up to us in the grocery store.
“What a beautiful little thing you are. You have such big eyes and shiny dark hair.” She said to me.
Mama stood in front of me with a tight smile on her mouth. I knew that smile. I had seen it so many times before. It was not a “good things are going happen smile.” So I looked down at my feet and tried to become smaller.
“Thank you,” she said to the woman.
Mama reached out behind her, jerked my arm and marched away. I looked back at the nice lady who had a sad frown on her face.
“You don’t need to get too full of yourself Jink. That woman only said that to be nice. She realized you weren’t much to look at and just wanted to make you feel good.”
“Daddy says I’m pretty mama.” I should have kept my mouth shut.
I told Mrs. Ross the next day that I ran into the bedroom door. I don’t think she believed me but she did not ask again.

Halfway into the school year, Mrs. Ross made an announcement. She clapped her hands to get our attention to the front of the room.
“Class, I want to introduce a new student.”
We all looked at the boy standing by her side. His hair was as dark as mine with eyes to match. He looked around the room before his eyes lit on me and he grinned. I knew then that even at the tender age of 6, this boy would be my other best friend.
“This is Johnny Mclean. He is from New York. Say good morning. I expect you will all get better acquainted at recess.”
I shivered as low and behold, she led him to the empty desk in the row opposite of mine.
“Hello gorgeous! Where’d you get the shiner? It’s awesome.” He whispered across the aisle to me as Mrs. Ross walked back to her desk. I didn’t answer as Mrs. Ross started to speak about drawing within the lines. This “shiner” was supposed to be from knocking heads with the dog. We did not have a dog. “Awesome.” Oh yeah, this one was for me.
At recess Johnny found me out on the playground where I sat on the grass while Marie braided my hair. Marie talked a mile a minute before she realized I did not hear her anymore. She jerked my braid a little as she looked to where my eyes had gone. I heard her giggle before she whispered in my ear.
“Put your eyes back in your head Jay-Jay, it’s embarrassing.”
“Shush Marie, here he comes.”
Johnny walked over as if he had been doing it all year long. He sat down beside Marie on the grass and leaned back on his hands. I waited, with my back to them, for him to speak. He didn’t. I finally looked back over my shoulder to see him stare at me.
“You know my name, so what’s yours?” He waved his hand in the air and he said, “I know the teacher called you Jay-Jay, but is that your real name?”
Marie giggled again but said nothing, which was unusual for her. I turned my back to both of them. I knew my face had turned red and I didn’t want him to see.
“Jinx Joelee Monroe,” I whispered. I rushed to get the words out of my mouth.
I hunched my shoulders and waited for him to laugh at me. My name had never bothered me like that before. The laughter didn't come and Marie no longer giggled. She had asked me once about my name and I was pretty short with her when I told her I was bad luck to whoever was around me. That day she got seven stitches in her chin when she slipped and fell while she pushed me in the swing. Marie never mentioned it again.
The silence between the three of us seemed to thicken. I was ready to turn back around and glare at him when he said,
“Cool, I like it.”
I turned around then and he was on his back on the grass, arms under his head as he stared at the sky. Marie looked at me and shrugged her shoulders. Johnny started to grin and whistle from between his teeth.
From that day on, we three became inseparable at school. Mrs. Ross called us “Thick as thieves.” She said it with a smile so I knew it was not a bad thing. Kindergarten has turned out to be the best place on earth.
Yet still, summer would come and school let out. I would be alone without my best friends and worst of all; I would be alone with mama. I guess being in the hospital, in a coma, most of that summer was best for me.

Some people are curious about how an author comes up with their story. The where's, when's, why's and how's. Did it brew in your head for years, was it something you saw or what someone said?
Mine started out as kind of a joke between me and an online friend. He knew I loved to write stories, usually true ones, and started me on a fantasy.
We joked back and forth about what the book should be about and he came up with the name "Ch'dwen" for the main female character. For some reason, that name caught my eye and my imagination. Form there, the story started to write itself. That was two years ago.
I actually wrote the book in two months, but it took me two years of editing and joining any online group I could find that would help me define and refine my writing.
Finally, the day came when I thought it was ready for a publisher. Thats when I discovered that though I could write the book, I froze when it came to writing a Query. I really did crap out there. I went to so many Publisher sights to see what was required and each had a different take on what a query was and a synopses as well. Too much ended up in my head and not on paper (computer).
I wrote what I thought was a good query but was rejected time after time. It became frustrating of course, and I thought that if I couldn't write a decent query then I had probably not wrote a good story either. I put it away for awhile. I still wrote though as I have always done and that book stayed in my head.
During that time, I had five deaths in the family as well as the death of a friend. Tending to the dying and dead took me away from writing. I felt empty. I discovered that it was that writing that helped me get through.
I took up my book, dusted it off and re-edited it many more times. Then I submitted a chapter to a an online place called "The Book Times," That wonderful woman took my chapter and published it. But then, due to circumstances in her own life, she could no longer keep the site going and once again I looked at the publishing industry. I submitted Magic's Guardian two more times and then, looked into self publishing.
Now here was a new and scary territory. I set it all up on Amazon and my finger hoovered over send. I came very close to not sending, then realized my finger had already done it for me. YIKES.
To those who read my book and sent reviews, I am eternally grateful.You gave me the push I needed. I may not be the best nor the worse writer, I am just a writer. Some will love me some will hate me and some will be indifferent and that's okay. One cannot please everyone but the other side of the coin is, you cannot unplease (that's not really a word but it fits) everyone either. If I could give all my writings away free, I would. To me, it is about the story. The next book in the series is "Magic's Dragon" which I had planned to release the end of this month. Due to unavoidable delays, it may be the beginning of December. Hopefully it will be as well received as the first one was.

Going to bars is not my thing, you get what you get when you do that. But on this night, I think it was sheer boredom and loneliness that drove me. Interaction with other human beings instead of four walls. I am a person use to being alone so this new restlessness was a little unnerving. I wasn't really sure that it was other people I needed, but I decided to get a little dressed up and head on down to the corner bar, JD's. I slipped on my handkerchief dress and red heels and it was time to walk down Main street.
Now understand, this is small town America, so a walk down Main street in red high-heels is not considered as prostitution or anything like that. On any given Saturday night you can see singles and crowds as they walked to the theater or the bars, which we had more bars then churches here.
Everyone knows everyone here so a walk down Main was like social hour.
"Hello Mrs. Gibbons. No, I have not been ill but thank-you for inquiring."
And so it went. They all knew that I was not a social bird.I was just that artist who lived above Lacey's Bookstore. I was born and raised here, yet they still called me "That Artist". I think they all found me a treat for their bored lives. My paintings did sell well and brought notice to their town. Our town.
My name is Lacey Armond and I own Lacey's Bookstore, how ironic. JD's is the most popular hangout for young people my age. Yet I had never set foot in here before, never felt a need to. But tonight, that need had turned into a burning desire and I did not know why. So following some unknown trail I hip swung my way down Main an into JD's.
There was a live band tonight, usually was on Saturday's, and actually, they seemed quite good. I had never hear of them and figured they were from out of town. They called themselves "Temptation Now", hmmm, interesting name. I didn't really look them over, just lent my ear to their soulful sounds as I walked up to the only empty seat at the bar.
"Lacey?"
I looked a little closer at the bartender and wondered who the hell he was. I searched my memory but he did not ring any bells. I was likely to forget anyone I knew, long story that one, car wreck, enough said.
So I did what I always did and just smiled with what I thought was a bewitched twist and ordered a good shot of tequila. And then another, and then I lost count. Counting was probably not one of my best forte's. Then again, tequila probably wasn't either as I did not drink as rule.

The morning light pierced my eyes like knife blades and almost brought me up screaming as pain lashed my head. Oh my god. I slowly peeped out through my eyelashes. I had hoped to filter some of that hell fire that shone so cheerfully into my room. Yes, it was my bedroom and no, I had not died and gone to hell. How I got here and where I had been was not forth coming in the next ten minutes as I tried to maneuver myself out of my feather bed. I was buck ass naked, not unusual for me, I really didn't like clothes much. What was unusual was my neatly folded clothes at the end of the bed on my hope chest. Hope chest, what a joke that was. I kept all my precious paints in there to save them from the sunlight. I never folded my clothes after I took them off. I would just throw them in the hamper in the bath for laundry day. So how did they get there? The smell of coffee made my eyes widen in shock and allowed the dreadful sun another go at me.
I pulled the sheet from the bed and led with my nose toward my tiny kitchen. It was filled with a male body who's back was to me as he waited for the coffee to brew. This was just too much for me.
I sat down solidly on my sofa, which I now noticed had one of my bed pillows and an old blanket in total disarray. I stared at that wonderful back side in my kitchen. He only wore bluejeans, no shirt and probably no shoes. I could not see as the counter blocked him from the butt down. Was this guy humming? Yes, I do believe he was humming, in my kitchen, as he brewed my coffee. And here I wondered what his butt looked like.
He started to open cupboard doors as the coffee gave a last gurgle, the pots sly signal that it was ready. He found the cups after going through almost all the cupboards and took down two. Two, hmmm. My brain was still on "What the hell is going on" and I craved that coffee. He sat a bottle of aspirin beside one of the mugs and started to full them with coffee. What the hell? again. Did this guy riffle my medicine cabinet? No, wait, I had left those on the counter myself the other day.
He ran his hand through his dark wavy hair and I felt I had seen that hair somewhere before. As he turned to search for spoons, he faced me across the counter. He gave a little jerk of surprise as his eyes looked me over. I only had a sheet wrapped around me so I guess I would have looked someone over a little dazed like too. My jerk of surprise was that I knew where I had seen that hair before.
The bartender from JD's. He looked different in the morning light, rather sexy as he stood there in his worn blues. My artists eye saw him as someone I would love to paint, and put on canvass too.
"Lacey," even his voice had a low sexy tone. "I was just going to bring you coffee. I hope you don't mind that I made myself at home?"
Still, I just stared at him. My brain was not up to thought yet and my tongue had stuck to the roof of my mouth.
"Who are you?" Finally my rusted voice found a way out of my dry mouth.
He looked at me rather sadly before he pasted on a fake smile.
"Jake...I'm Jake," was all he said.
I rolled the name around in my head and found that it had a pleasant ring to it.
"You were rather out of it last night and I brought you home. Thought it was reasonable that I camp out here and make sure you were okay."
Camp out? Oh right, the pillow on the couch. By this time, Jake had come around the counter with the coffee and yes, I was right, no shoes. Is it possible for a man to have sexy feet? I do believe it is. As he handed me my coffee, Jake leaned up against my counter. He sipped from his own mug and keep his eyes glued to my face. It was hard not to stare at him, all of him. He was gorgeous alright. Did I notice that last night? Last night! Oh geez, what happened last night.
Another sad smile touched Jake"s mouth as he watched the confusion on my face.
"Don't worry Lacey. Nothing happened last night. It was just obvious that you would not get home on your own so I helped you. And no, you did nothing that would embarrass you in the light of day."
I looked down at my rather naked state under the sheet and looked back up into smiling green eyes.
"You did that yourself. You said you never wore clothes to bed and offered to share your sheets with me. I declined and slept out here."
Declined? That was a little ummm...slap to the pride. Declined! I was declined, like a charge card, sorry you were declined.
There was something else..
"Do I know you Jake?" I asked.
He stared at me for a moment as he weighed his words. He sighed like this was a question he had heard often. Jake picked his wallet up from the counter and took out his drivers license. He looked at it for a few moments before he handed it over to me.
"Yes Lacey, you know me." was all he said.
Well looky there. Jake Armond, wait, thats my last name and my address. Have you ever had a moment of complete clarity that it literary shocks your system? This was one of those moments.
"Jake Armond?"
Jake? I know this name. Scenes pass before my eyes. Of a green eyed boy, a dark haired man, a gentle hand as it slid up my naked thigh. Lips grazed mine before they continued down my body and made me whimper and shiver. A hot tongue slowly touched every point of my now needy body.
I Gasped and I looked up at that green eyed boy who had grown into a desirable man. I remember, I remember.