I FRET over everything. Am I a good mother? Will I lose my job to downsizing? Is my husband happy in our marriage? Are my kids happy? Are my friends happy their my friends? When the world ends what will I be doing at that moment? Do I have enough money for groceries? How will I pay off the debt I have acquired? Will I get sick, again? Even down to the little things like. When do I get gas? Should I do it now or wait until morning?

Most people would call that a “worry wart”. Some have even blamed it on me being a Virgo. I worry because I need everything to be perfect they say.

I just think it is all a part of being an adult I truly believe the more you worry the more of an adult you are.

I can’t help worrying about the mortgage, or the kids, or the groceries. We gotta eat, right?

I spent so many years stressing over every little detail of my life. I forgot about myself. I stopped worrying about my clothes, my hair, even my hygiene at times, as long as everyone around me was okay.

Then something astounding happened. I realized I had disappeared and that was unacceptable to me.

I mean I had dreams once, goals in life and I had traded them all in for everyone else’s happiness. Why?

So I began the long journey of becoming me again. Some couldn’t understand it. Others chose to ignore it but I am happier than I have been in my entire life. So…

Bottom line is never let yourself disappear in the wake of someone else’s happiness. That hill to climb back up to you is a bitch.

FRET about you first because, in the end, everything else will work itself out…

<a href=””>Fret</a&gt;



The conversation turned from silly to serious once the demon entered the bar.  Heidi had been biding her time mindlessly flirting with the pseudo elf until her mark finally walked in. She was just about to give up and leave the boring man dressed all in green when suddenly the air ratcheted up a few degrees and in walked the biggest, hottest horned devil she had ever laid eyes on. His picture did not do him justice and judging by the way the women tripped over each other to get to him he obviously had a reputation.

He was so large he had to duck to enter the bar and even then his horns narrowly missed the frame. Heidi found herself damned near salivating at the way his long blond hair brushed against the rippling muscles that started at his neck and just kept going and going and going. She shook herself out of her reverie and downed the rest of the vodka in her glass for some liquid courage before dismissing the human playing dress up in front of her as she walked sensually over to the beautiful devil. It was time to get her game face on. She was a bounty hunter on a mission and she never missed her mark. This guy would be no exception but maybe she could get a little fun time in while she was taking him down in the process.

Gabe sniffed out the bounty hunter the instant his horns cleared the threshold into the bar. She had an odor that was unlike any of the riffraff in this place. While women fairy and human alike flocked to his side as they always did. He zeroed in on the knockout at the other end of the bar. Dressed all in black leather leaving very little to the imagination he wondered where in the hell she was hiding her blade. He scented the cold steel was on her he just couldn’t figure out where. The black leather breeches didn’t reveal her secrets even though they appeared to be painted on. With slits down the sides, he glimpsed her milky white flesh every few centimeters or so and for just a moment he longed to be those damned pants.

Her shirt was no better if that is what you can call it. It was more like a bra covering only her tits while her flat creamy flesh underneath it lay bare for the world to see. An emerald stud in the center of her belly button to match her eyes. Ah, those eyes. A demon like him could drown in those eyes. Thank God he was strong-willed. The fae wanna be next to her would not be so lucky. Speaking of, the guy stunk of human and Gabe felt like bashing the idiots head in for even thinking of touching her. A streak of something akin to jealousy leaked into his pores as he imagined yanking her away from this guys clutches by her long jet black hair and throwing her up against the wall to have his wicked way with her. In front of everyone here.

He shook himself as anger began to course through him. What the hell was that? He felt like a young buck not able to control his appetites. Instead of the 145 years, he actually was. He took a big sniff and then it hit him. The sweet ambrosia smell that could only come from his mate. He began to chuckle at the timing of the universe. He had been alone for all these years and now, the powers that be had finally sent the only person he could be with forever. In the form of a raven-haired temptress that was getting paid to turn him in.

She put the glass to her crimson lips and downed her drink in one gulp. Oh, the things he could do to that mouth. She tossed her hair dismissing the cockroach beside her and turned her attention over to him as she began sauntering over to him with a sheepish grin. A smile broke out onto his face as he watched her body move like a jungle cat stalking its prey. He was almost giddy at the idea of being her prey, but what she didn’t realize is that she was being stalked too. He couldn’t wait to hear her voice as she tried to seduce him into a false sense of security. He would play along, for now. Until it was time to claim his mate that is. A full on chuckle escaped his lips as she approached this was going to make for one interesting conversation. 


<a href=””>Conversation</a&gt;



She was saintly in all that she did.  A wife, a mother, a daughter, a sister. Her roles were etched out for her even before she was born and she played them well.

Always the yes girl, she behaved exactly as she should. Never complaining that her load was too great to bare.

No one ever asking, if she was alright. They just assumed she was, with all her saintly ways.

However, she was full of fire inside. A hunger for a life only she could imagine. A thirst that could never be quenched.

She longed to sink her bare feet into the sand and watch the waves roll upon her. She craved a life she would never have.

She ached to ride wild horses, barebacked and bare-chested. She lusted after the moon and all his beautiful brightness.

She sought a world where she could be free of all her tedious masks. For in her soul she was anything but saintly.


<a href=””>Saintly</a&gt;


According to the dictionary, TRADITION is – the handing down of statements, beliefs, legends, customs, information, etc.

It also says that TRADITIONAL is – existing in, or as part of a tradition, long-established.

Is it safe to say then that not all traditions are good? When you think of traditions being passed down from generation to generation. From family member to family member. For the most part, it is something good. It is something that builds a legacy. It is the way you were raised that you take with you and continue on. For example, the way we celebrate the holidays. How many of you out there celebrate the way you do because that is the way your parents taught you? How many of you out there say, “I do this because it is the way I was raised!” It becomes the “traditional” thing in your family and so you continue on, but like I said before not all traditions are good are they?

Like the way we see, the world, the way we speak to one another, the way we treat other people. It is all based on some sort of traditional value that you were raised with. It is up to you to break that cycle and change tradition. It is up to you to make new traditions, and it is a hard road, an uphill battle that you sometimes don’t think you can win, but it is worth it in the end.

We are always told from an early age that our parents want more for us than what they had. At least I was and yet, the bar was set pretty low. It was never about things for me. Hell, I could have lived in a shack with dirt floors for all I care. All I ever wanted was to be seen, as a person, not an obligation. A sense of self- loathing and never being loved. That is the traditional values I grew up with and carried with me into adulthood!

That is also the traditional values I have been trying to rectify ever since. You see I didn’ t grow up in a house full of warm and cozy traditions. However, I learned through all the pains of the traditions I did grow up with that it is not a tradition I wanted my kids to carry with them. What traditional values do you want to leave behind to be passed down from generation to generation?

<a href=””>Traditional</a&gt;



Can’t we all just take a PAUSE, from adulthood!

I mean it’s like giving birth, people can tell you all day long how painful it is but until you actually experience it you will never know the depth of that pain. No one can know how hard being an adult truly is until they experience it for themselves. No matter how many people tell you it’s hard. No one can know the soul-sucking life stealing agony of paying bills every single month until their in it.

One minute you are a teenager foot loose and fancy-free and the next you have teenagers of your own and your left wondering where did my teenage years go? We all have that moment, that moment when we realize our youth has somehow slipped past us and we are now the ones that have to make the tough decisions. Whoever, says otherwise, lied!

We all have that moment where all we want to do is PAUSE life and just hang like the kids we still believe in our heart of hearts we are. In my experience, the Dad doesn’t have it so bad but the Mom, now she is the superstar. She cleans the house, cooks the dinners, does the laundry, washes the dishes after the dinner she has cooked. Gets the kids off to school, clean and ready for their day. She makes sure daddy has his act together before he walks out the door. Then it’s off to work for her after everyone else has gone. She comes home and does it all over again when all she really wants is some alone time.

I just had a thought, you know how men complain that the woman is always the last one ready to go somewhere well, maybe that is why because she is so worried about getting everyone else out the door that she doesn’t have the time to get herself dressed and ready too. I am doing so much at any given time that I feel dizzy at times. Being a mom is enough to make your head spin, to top it all off you have to instill values and morals in your kids so they can become good adults. It is a vicious cycle and it is exhausting!

“When is it my turn!” I say, and others response is “Well, you’ve had your turn!” What, why do I only get the one turn? That is not fair, however, I know in order for my kids to become effective adults I need to set the example. I need to be the great adult they look up to in life. I need to be their hero they aspire to be one day. My job as a parent will never be done and yet, there should be a balance from adult time to play time. Still searching for my balance. Adulting can be so hard!




I am on the cusp of… something!

Greatness, Madness, it’s to early to tell!

Whatever it is I can feel it coming,

I can feel it in my bones as if a change in the weather.

My skin is itchy with the anticipation that,

I am on the cusp of…something.

My heart thunders in my ears,

my breathing now quickened.

My thoughts are clawing at my brain and I know,

I am on the cusp of…something!

Something, I don’t yet know,

will it bring about the end of me or will I simply go on!

Will I struggle to keep what sanity I have left,

or will all my dreams finally be fulfilled?

My nails are bitten down to the quick, my nerves are on end, I wait with bated breath,

for I know I am on the cusp of…something!


<a href=””>Cusp</a&gt;