If born of a certain day, month, year, preferably “Year of the dragon” – you’ll sail towards the golden sea, without hard work.  I was not born under such lucky stars – and hence embraced American style motivational thinking with open arms.  You can be what you put your heart too.  Nurture.

And now as a Myers Briggs Type Indicator facilitator and career coach, where I am to teach others that you are born towards certain temperaments, and nothing really changes even in adulthood.  The only reason why you appear to change, is because you were measuring the wrong thing in the first place.  Lack of self awareness, confounding variables in the environment, impression management towards gaining sense of approval from significant people, etc.

In “Quiet, the power of Introverts in a World that can’t stop Talking” (Ch 5),  author Susan Cain, interviewed Dr Carl Schwartz, Director of the Developmental Neuroimaging and Psychopathology Research Lab, using fMRI (functional Magnetic Resonance Imaging) machines to determine if there’s a difference between introverts and extroverts even in adult life.  Specifically, in the activity of the amygdala – in shaping the personalities of introverts and extroverts.

In an experiment using a slideshow mimicking a crowded room of strangers and some familiar faces, Schwartz found that the amydalae of high reactives (introverts) reacted more to the photos of strangers than low reactives (extroverts). Using a longitudinal study, found that the footprint of a high or low reactive temperament never disappeared in adulthood (what Carl Jung assumed all these while).  Susan Cain calls this the “rubber band theory” of personality.  ”We are like rubber bands at rest.  We are elastic and can stretch ourselves, but only so much.”  Nature and nurture. Bill Gates is never going to be Bill Clinton.

What is going through the Introvert’s brain in a cocktail party?

A lot.

1. When we greet a stranger in a party, the amygdala (the ancient part of the brain), goes into overdrive.

2. For those relatively skilled in social situations, the neofrontal cortex kicks in to tell you to calm down, and what to do next – shake hands, smile. But conditioning and learning only suppresses the activity of the amygdala, not erase the fear.

3. During times of stress, unwarranted fears came go haywire,  - “when the cortex has other things to do than soothe an excitable amygdala”.  => Solitude and time for meditation works for both introverts and extroverts as you don’t want your amygdala to spin out of control on you.

What should we do:

To conquer fear of public speaking, small talk with strangers etc.

1. Desensitise yourself (and your amygdala) in small doses, over and over again – in a safe environment.

Frankly, nothing new, something I’ve always known intuitively.  But well meaning friends around me feel that you should just jump into the deep end.  I learnt to ride a bicycle “in one hour” in my forties at the harassment of my husband.  Now older and wiser, I put my foot down, when he insisted on me buying a beautifully crafted bicycle meant for racers as my first bike, so that I can use it 3 years later and not out-grow it, as he put it.  Instead I bought one, which I would safely use straight away, to minimise my fear of falling.  Also, I took to “Youtube” and watched many, many bicycle training videos to desensitise myself.

What looked like a “one hour miracle”, was actually hours of practice soothing my amygdala which cannot tell the difference between real practice and what the eye sees.

2.  Find your sweet spot.

Once you discover your preferences,organise your life around “optimal levels of arousal”, what Susan Cain calls “sweet spots”.   If you’re happily reading your book in a quiet place, and after 30 mins find yourself re-reading a sentence 5 times, you’re understimulated.  Call a friend, go out for tea.  Now you’re back into your sweet-spot.  But if your extroverted friend who needs a higher level of stimulation, manages to persuade you to follow her to a party after this tea, you may find yourself having to make small talk with strangers, and soon, find yourself “overstimulated”.

What next?  Pair off with someone for in-depth conversation, or go back to your book. Understanding your sweet spot, can increase satisfaction in every area of your life and more.

In looking for a job, find out how much time, your work requires you to behave out of your sweet spot? Too much time in a research lab, and not enough time interacting with people? Or too much time socialising and schmoozing and not enough time to research in your cubicle.

3. Find out what’s meaningful for you

Can we act out of character? How then do famous strong introverts speak in public effectively?  Susan Cain introduces us to the Free Traits theory, created by Professor Brian Little of former Havard University psychology lecturer. “According to the Free Traits theory, we are able to act out of character in the service of core personal projects. ” Introverts can behave like extroverts to accomplish work/causes they regard as important, people/ projects they value highly.

To thine own self be true. – Shakespeare

How to identify core personal projects?

4. Pay attemton to your actions

Can you fake it till you make it?
Yes, to a certain extent. Studies by research psychologist, Richard Lippa comparing introverts to pretend and act like extroverts, with actual extroverts, some of the psuedo-extroverts were surprisingly convincing.

Pay attention to how your face and body arrange themselves when you’re feeling confident and adopt theose same position when it comes time to fake it.

Studies have shown that behavior can lead to emotions. Smiling makes you feel stronger and happier and frowning makes you feel angry.

There is a limit to the control of self-presentation – beware of behavioral leakage. When you act out of character for a project you don’t care about, your discomfort can come across strongly and detected by the other party, sometimes as “freudian slips”.

5. Restore
Professor Little advises, find as many restorative niches as possible in your daily life. This is recommended by many books on Introversion/Extroversion, notably, “The Introvert Advantage” – a quick read, practical guide. Having read the Introvert Advantage, I consciously spend time finding restorative niches for myself. Surprisingly for a sedentary person like myself, going for a walk in the park, or jogging in the gym is a restorative process. After a day of lecturing, I recharge with a 20 min treadmill time, then off to a dinner with my husband’s colleagues and then supper with his friends.

While some of the recommendations are not new, it has given credibility that I am not abnormal, and allowed me to negotiate with my husband, an extrovert, who wants me to go everywhere. Professor Little calls it “Free Trait Agreement”,

Read more about this inspiring book, Quiet by Susan Cain.
There are more nuggets in this book not covered by my blog. Watch Susan Cain’s TED introduction, but she’s too modest in promoting her book.

Mastering the art of croquet

It’s Bank Holiday Monday here today and we’ve spent a lovely time catching up with family over in Cambridge. The sun shone down from a sparkling blue sky and it was shorts all round for the first time this year.

I love going to my father-in-law’s when all the family gathers. There are eyes aplenty to watch the children, who love to play with their smashing big cousin, and I get to catch up and natter with some grown-ups for a change. Good food, fine wine, great company and plenty of time to sit and read my on my iPad: I feel like I’ve had a holiday.

I intended to write my post while the kids were happily entertained, because I knew I’d be too tired when we got home. Unfortunately I downloaded the second in The Divide Trilogy – Back to the Divide – this morning and was too easily distracted from working by following Felix and Betony’s adventures again. I fear the cost of buying the iPad might be only the beginning of the expense!

Colouring with Aunty

I came across an interesting dilemma today when one of the books I wanted was only a pound cheaper for the kindle than for a paper copy. My heart still belongs to the paper book, but there’s no doubt it is much easier to read on the iPad with the children around (I can cuddle two children and sit, iPad on my knee, with just a wriggle needed to swipe the page over. Genius. If only I’d had one for all those boring months of breastfeeding at 2am!)

Still, an ebook is horribly intangible and I love to have a pretty row of paperbacks on the shelves reminding me of all the great stories recently read. Maybe I’ll just bookmark that one for future reading: there are plenty on my list!

As an aside, Two-Hundred Steps Home reached the 100,000 word mark with today’s post. If it ever becomes a novel it will need editing by half, but it still feels like a nice achievement.

________________________________________________________________________________

Below is the next installment in my novel Two-Hundred Steps Home: written in daily posts since 1st January as part of my 2013 365 Challenge. Read about the challenge here.You can catch up by downloading the free ebook volumes on the right hand side of the blog:

________________________________________________________________________________

The road stretched relentlessly ahead of Claire, solid with Sunday evening traffic. To either side, fields as flat as glass met a distant horizon, with flocks of clouds filling the space in between.  She tried not to let the lines of red lights make her impatient. There was one road home and the only thing to be gained by chaffing at the traffic was anger that had nowhere to go.

Sky slumped in the passenger seat, sleeping after her long day on the sunny beach. A tiny smile illuminated her face, giving her the look of a cherub. You sleep my little angel. Enjoy your happy dreams while you can.

A sharp sound rang through the silence of the car. Claire looked at the phone on the dash and mused whether to answer it. With a quick glance in the mirrors to make sure there were no blue sirens or panda cars around, Claire reached for the phone and raised it to her ear.

“Hello, yes? I’m driving.”

“So you are coming back then? Your father said you’d be home by now.”

Claire bit back an angry retort. Challenging her mother at any time was an exercise in futility and for once she had reason enough to be curt, with her daughter in hospital.

“Sorry, Mum, I’m not the only person heading back from the coast. The traffic has been horrendous. We won’t be much longer. Sky’s asleep.” She hesitated, afraid to ask her next question. Gripping the wheel with her free hand, she inhaled, her nostrils filling with the scent of sand and sun cream. “How is Ruth?”

“Not good.” Her mother fell silent and Claire wondered if she wanted to know any more. She was about to hang up when her mother drew an audible breath and let it out in a long sigh. When she spoke again her voice was low, and gentler than Claire could ever remember hearing it.

“Oh, Claire, the doctors think the tumour must have spread before they caught it. They say the chemo will help, but they’re fighting the wrong battle. They need to understand how far it has spread and adjust her treatment.”

The words rang through Claire’s mind without making sense. Her mother sounded tired, beaten, but her words suggested hope. She wanted to ask more, but driving one handed in heavy traffic on the A47 was not the time.

“I’m sure she’ll be fine, Mum. Ruth’s a fighter and she’s in safe hands.”

There was silence, and Claire wondered if her Mother was drawing breath for a new sarcastic come back. When she did speak, her words were so unexpected Claire nearly drove into the tail-lights of the car in front.

“You’re the fighter, Claire. You’re the one who has gone out and taken on the world. Ruth, well, she’s not strong like you.”

Heat rushed to Claire’s face at the unexpected compliment. It rattled her more than her mother’s unaccustomed gentleness, more than Ruth’s illness. She felt wrong-footed by it, as if it was easier to know that her mother loathed her than to believe she really cared.

As if needing to restore the balance, Claire heard her mother cluck her tongue. “Goodness, look at the time. Are you going to be much longer? I need you to take over at the hospital so I can go home and feed your father. You know he’s incapable of boiling an egg for his supper.”

“What about Sky? I’m not taking her to see Ruth tonight. She’s exhausted and needs to be in bed.” She heard her mother chuckle and wondered what could possibly be funny.

“Listen to you. Thought you didn’t have a maternal bone in your body. I’ll take her back with me, we can tuck her up in her bed. I’ll bring her in with me in the morning.”

It took a moment for Claire to realise the implication of her words. So I’m spending the night at the hospital am I? I guess it makes a change from a hostel bed. Stifling a yawn, Claire focused on the sleeping face beside her, reminding her of what was important.

“Okay, Mum, see you soon.”

***

Although I would usually consider myself pretty laid-back, this feeling of not being in school or employed is making me feel extremely restless. I feel like I’m caught in limbo right now, and while my friends and family are encouraging me to take it easy for a while, I can’t help but plunge into looking for a job right away. I just want to start my new life as soon as possible so that I can start a new social life (leaving all of my friends behind in Orlando was pretty traumatic. I spent most of my going-away party sobbing uncontrollably, locked in my friend’s room like a freak).

In light of all of that, I was still able to stay (somewhat) in touch with the blog-o-sphere. I’ve listed the highlights below. I promise that this week I won’t be late!

• I actually hate scary movies, but this list of the most beautiful vampire films has me intrigued. I think that it’s easier for me to appreciate a horror movie that’s “artistic” in lieu of being a gory mess (or a tacky romance).
• As someone who studied shame in the context of affect theory for her honors thesis, anything I find about women and shame instantly piques my interest (and for that I am not ashamed!). The relationship between body image and shame is particularly important, I think, in that our culture is one that makes it impossible for women to “win.”
• I’ll admit, I used to think homeschooled kids were the products of hyper-religious parents who outlawed TV in the house. But when you consider the poor quality of education in some parts of the country, homeschooling seems like the only sensible option—even if it still prevents kids from completely escaping the racism and classism of their communities.
• The #followateen hashtag seems pretty funny while the #followanadult backlash is really just kind of meaningless to me. I would argue that following a “teen” is akin to remembering your own issues growing up without the ability to express your grievances online, rather than being utterly condescending towards teenagers (okay, I’ll admit it, the trend is still awfully patronizing). Where’s the humor in #followanadult? “My adult went out and bought beer today”? “My adult built his infant son a crib today”? In any case, The New Inquiry is all about analyzing the implications of surveillance as evidenced by the aforementioned Twitter trend.
• I’ve actually come across several discussions online about xoJane and its tendency to “overshare.” Yet, is this trend not just the result of us women who read Sylvia Plath in high school? At what point does “confessional” become oversharing? And why should anyone care?
• As someone who is all about the new sincerity movement, I really appreciated The New Inquiry’s post about a contemporary Russian poet struggling to find balance between sentimentality and politics. I used to think the two were separate; one was unfeeling and inflexible and one was pliable, raw, and uncomfortably real. However, the dichotomy between the two is much more complex than that. In any case, I love the implications of new sincerity and I want to pursue more reading material that falls under that category (well, without drifting into melodrama, which is a difficult thing to do, I think).
• The theme of this Sugar Bowl should be “surveillance and films.” Plus, I’m just a sucker for color palettes. Deep down inside I think that I always wanted to be a designer of some sort, given my history with art and my middle school obsession with Adobe Photoshop. I’m also the kind of person who is very stubborn about taste regarding certain things—I wear yoga pants and ratty t-shirts everyday but don’t you dare criticize my wedding board on Pinterest.
• Like I said, I’m really into posts about surveillance and technology this week. Maybe all of the post-graduation stress is making me paranoid.
• Reading about Netflix’s failure to make consumers happy has really gotten me thinking: assuming the Netflix staff is made up of experts who are trying to cater to the largest chunk of their audience, studying the taste profiles of large demographics, is it fair to say that they’re “selling out” by providing a few popular films instead of a lot of niche films (which, by the way, sort of baffles me—Netflix has loads of niche films, in my opinion)? For instance, I have a friend who grumbles that Netflix has a shoddy Anime selection. I told him to get a Crunchyroll account. Netflix’s problem is that so many people are using it now that “nichers” (yes, I made that word up, go away) will have to look elsewhere to stream their content. As the post points out, the cost of so many subscriptions could rival the cost of cable anyway—but do people really watch that much TV?
• I’ve always thought that poetry is a guaranteed way to make absolutely no money and gain almost no recognition, which is why I love it so much. But as this list demonstrates, there are some poems that have actually been adapted into movies (I’m especially psyched about that Lady Lazarus movie–now there’s something I would pay to stream!).
• To wrap up this stressful week (and tedious blog post), I have to recommend reading an analysis of the classic question: does money buy happiness? I would hope not (though money does buy education, and education is awesome!).

I’ll try to update a few times this week and get back into the swing of things. I even have dozens of vintage clip art, saved from the past two weeks, for the purpose of making my blog posts seem sophisticated again!

But…!!
Dear loyal readers, you get a chance to meet Beauty ahead of the pack! Beauty of the Beast is available TODAY for only $3.99 on Amazon Kindle worldwide!

Head on over to Amazon.com to buy it!

Here’s the Story

Mary Jane Andrews is what Texans call a pistol. She thinks fast, acts faster, and takes the consequences with a laugh. The year is 1950. Young reporter Mary Jane isn’t sure what SM is, but she’s heard that it’s going on outside Austin, and she’s determined to investigate. Once she meets the Master, she’s both enthralled and scared spitless.

What’s a Master to do when his hotter-than-sin sexual soul mate shows up at the door of his highly illegal sex house? Don’t worry, he has lots of ideas…

Trouble is, Mary Jane wants the story. And the Master won’t spend the rest of his natural life in jail. The sex is explosive, inventive, and addictive, both ways. Will it be bend or break for the insatiable Beauty and the masterful Beast?

Buy Beauty of the Beast at amazon.com!

In honor of the international following of Carole Remy’s earlier novels, here’s a list of Amazon sites where you can buy Beauty of the Beast around the world.

Amazon US

Amazon UK

Amazon Canada

Amazon Germany

Amazon France

Amazon Italy

Amazon Spain

Amazon Japan

Amazon Brazil

Tomorrow is the Release Day Blitz!

Beauty of the Beast is being featured on over twenty book blogs around the blogosphere!

Thank you to Roxanne Rhoads at Bewitching Book Tours and thank you to all my blogging friends for getting Mary Jane and the Master’s story off to a roaring start!

From the publisher:

A heart-stopping story of love, death, technology, and art set amid the tropics of a futuristic Brazil.

The lush city of Palmares Tres shimmers with tech and tradition, with screaming gossip casters and practiced politicians. In the midst of this vibrant metropolis, June Costa creates art that’s sure to make her legendary. But her dreams of fame become something more when she meets Enki, the bold new Summer King. The whole city falls in love with him (including June’s best friend, Gil). But June sees more to Enki than amber eyes and a lethal samba. She sees a fellow artist.

Together, June and Enki will stage explosive, dramatic projects that Palmares Tres will never forget. They will add fuel to a growing rebellion against the government’s strict limits on new tech. And June will fall deeply, unfortunately in love with Enki. Because like all Summer Kings before him, Enki is destined to die.

Pulsing with the beat of futuristic Brazil, burning with the passions of its characters, and overflowing with ideas, this fiery novel will leave you eager for more from Alaya Dawn Johnson.

My review:

Five Stars

Wow. Just wow.

If you don’t like your books challenging, this one is not for you.

If you think violence is ok, but teen sex isn’t, this book isn’t for you.

If you want the protagonist to be your best friend, this book isn’t for you.

If you love working for the payoff of an amazing book and writing, if you love characters who grow, if you are sick of violence as plot, if you love reading about future societies that are truly different than our own but reflect the concerns of our today, then read this book. Read, savor every word and experience saudade at the end. (If I understand how to use the word correctly; I don’t speak Portuguese.)

The plot and characters are darker and more intense than Lucy and Dick (Who is Candid?) and Aggie and Jimmy (Twelve Nights). I loved those characters but Mary Jane and George come from a different world and a different time.

In Beauty of the Beast we get a glimpse into the SM scene of 1950s America through a tale which is expertly weaved around the ideology of the fairy-tale. Beauty is explored on different levels, as is the concept of the beast and how we, as humans, often conceal our true selves.

Don’t get me wrong, this isn’t a full moral lesson disguised as a novel! It is a thoroughly enjoyable read and the heroine, Mary Jane, is sexy, sassy and independent with a wicked sense of humour. The first two pages had me laughing until my sides ached and Ms Remy weaves this heady mix of humour and darker desires with the skill of a truly talented author. She encapsulates how complex we all are and delves into the idea that we all are multi-faceted.

Beauty of the Beast is a love story, it is erotic, it is an extended metaphor. There is a mystery, there is a tale of growing obsession and there is a clear picture of how insanity is just a step away if you allow your cravings to completely consume you.

My favourite line of the novel had to be …the age old rhythm we are born to know… You’ll have to read it to know what I’m talking about!

Ms Remy perfectly captures our more basic instincts and delivers them in her uniquely direct and delicious style.

from Missed Her: Stories by Ivan E. Coyote

“Thanks. I really love your books a lot. Especially the one about the tomboy, cuz, well, the little girl in that story, she reminds me of me.” She paused for a second, met my eyes with hers, and held them there. “And nobody ever reminds me of me.”

I’m about half-way through, and I hesitate to say anything because I don’t want to ruin even the slightest detail for anyone.  It’s that good.  But at the risk of a spoiler or two, LIFE AFTER LIFE tells the story of Ursula Todd, a British girl born on a snowy February 11, 1910.  And born.  And born again.  As the name implies, LIFE AFTER LIFE recounts the multiple lives of Ursula, who suffers death only to be reborn with faint memories of her past lives that she uses to avoid her previous fate(s).  And that’s all I’ll say about the plot.

What I love about this book is that Atkinson makes no apologies for the plot, provides no crutch on which the reader may rest.  Instead, she simply lays the story out, and trusts that you can follow using the dated chapters as temporal signposts.  At times challenging, Atkinson’s straightforward style and dark comic touch preserve just the right balance between literary and commercial sensibilities.  One of those novels that make me anxious for bedtime, just so I can get back to Ursula’s world.

Oh, and Atkinson manages to open the novel with a scene that most writers would avoid like the plague, because they simply wouldn’t be able to pull it off without falling into farce.  Atkinson not only pulls it off, she left me chuckling to myself, eager to see where this was going.

Go get this book, you won’t regret it.

The free book I found shall remain nameless because I’m going to be snarky about it, and even if I’m not totally following the rule to not say anything if I don’t have anything nice to say, I’ll at least not specifically call out the author. Here’s the plot summary.

A ghost is haunting an English teacher. The ghost realizes a boy in the English teacher’s class can see her. Said ghost develops an attraction for the boy, and the two overcome the awkward obstacle of him having a body and her not so much to become lovers.

Ok, here’s where I get snarky. That’s weird. And, alarming. Did I mention weird? I mean, I know English class can be uncomfortable sometimes, but let’s not get carried away.

Christopher Orr, in his fascinating essay “Why Are Romantic Comedies So Bad?” aptly explains this nauseating trend of  weird — vampires hooking up with humans and, well, I don’t know what else. I checked out recent NY Time best sellers fiction list to see what else is going on. Apparently shape shifters are rescuing packs of werewolves, and a woman is convinced that vampires do exist after all when she’s kidnapped by one who is psychopathic. Lovely, remind me to double check the front door lock tonight.

Orr explains that these unlikely matches occur because taboos in our culture that once had to be overcome in a good love story have either been diminished or eliminated. For example, he points out the Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks’ desperate journey to meet one another in Sleepless in Seattle would’ve lost a considerable amount of plot tension if they’d had just Skyped each other. While I personally think the Orr might be looking through slightly rose-tinted glasses to say that race and socioeconomic taboos no longer pose an obstacle to love, I do concur that they don’t create blockbusters. And, so we move on to the taboos of humans marrying creatures from other worlds or yank in the stereotypes of slobbish men or free spirited women who must be wooed to normalcy by relationships.

Orr also conjectures, and I found this particularly interesting in light of where I was reading the article, that romantic comedies have lost their appeal because it’s not all that unusual for the first five minutes of the film to show us the couple having sex. It’s true right; I go to a movie today, and I’m never quite sure if the opening credits are going to be plastered across someone’s naked backside. He implores, “There was a time when carnal knowledge was the (implied) endpoint of the romantic comedy; today, it’s just as likely to be the opening premise….Where’s a film to go when the ‘happy ending’ takes place at the beginning?”

This wrangling of where sex plays out in a relationship certainly is an interesting feature of the culture. After all, those of us watching Rick Castle and Kate Beckett of Castle or Jim and Pam of The Office were willing to watch for seasons and seasons of relationship tension. We may have been shouting at the TV, “kiss her” or “tell her how you feel.” But, I doubt many of us would have enjoyed the shows nearly as much had the characters shacked up in the first season. As a matter of fact, both shows struggled a bit to regain their equilibrium once the characters did become sexually involved.

As I’ve mulled over Orr’s article, I’ve been reminded that many of us seemed to enjoy our movies more when the filmmakers embraced the truth that a well-told story is a beautiful story and when we realized that sometimes the most potent passion lies in the wait rather than impetuous exploits.

Anyway…

I’ve been listening to Micro by Michael Crichton on audiobook through my iPhone (and car speakers). Well, he didn’t get to finish it because he died before it was done. I apologize to the author who did finish it, because I can’t remember his name right now. This book made me really mad a couple of times. I won’t tell you why because it’s a spoiler, but I wanted to scream. I did sort of yell at my iPhone that was playing the story. This book is about a company who can shrink things and people down to about 1/2 inch. Some things even smaller. We get to see the micro-world in a rain forest, and that was really cool. I didn’t check facts every time I wondered if something was real or made up, but if some of the stuff was real, Crichton did a LOT of research for this book. He always has, though, for his books. I’ve liked just about everything Michael Crichton has written. He is the most eclectic author I’ve ever read. I hate that we’ll never have anything else by him to read.

On my Kindle, I’ve been reading Death is a Gift by Claire Farrell. I can’t tell you how much I loved this book. It’s so full of awesome. In the first 25% of the book, I was already bawling my eyes out. But it was something that kind of had to happen. (No, I’m not telling.) I fell in love with the main character, Cliona, who is a banshee. I felt every emotion she felt as I was reading this book. She had to make some hard decisions, and through this whole book, I couldn’t figure out if it was going to have a happy ending or not. (Again, not gonna tell!) This was a stand alone book. Even though I love Claire’s series, this is by far my favorite book by her. I didn’t want it to end.

On my iPhone, I’m reading The Green-Eyed Doll by Jerrie Alexander. This is the first book I’ve read by this author. In fact, I think it’s her only release, but she’s got some other stuff coming out soon. Anyway, this has been slow reading because I don’t get to read on my iPhone very much. Just little bits here and there when I get a chance. I’m enjoying the book. It’s about a sheriff, Matt, and a woman, Catherine, with a past she doesn’t want anyone to know about it, especially the sheriff, whom she’s falling for. Oh, and there’s a serial killer. I think he’s going to take Catherine soon. This one is a murder mystery/romance. I’m pretty sure there’ll be a HEA.

On my iPad, I’m reading Her Reluctant Groom by Rose Gordon. I put this one on hold just a little while because I was reading on my iPad while walking on the treadmill, and I’ve not gotten back to exercising yet. I also read it a little bit while hubby was in ICU. I need to get back to that book, because I was really enjoying it. I love a scarred hero. And the heroine has some issues of her own. Rose always makes me smile because her books are a little different from other historical romances I’ve read. There’s always a bit of humor in them, which I really enjoy. I listened to His Contract Bride recently, and that book was just a lot of fun. I’m taking some of Rose’s books to the beach with me, along with Ruth Ann Nordin’s. Romances are great beach reads.

I hope to do these posts every once in awhile. Since I’ve about decided not to review much at the retailers, I thought I would just do some of it here.

“You recognize these?” the woman asked.

Designs snaked over her torso, down into the temp-reg pants, up to her neck. The left side of her rib cage was a silvery mass of letters and symbols, all jumbled; there was a stylized sun around her navel with waving lines of light. A crane, its legs hidden by the waistband of her pants, spread its wings over her right side and torso. There were smaller signs hidden around the larger; three simple slashes crossed the space between her collarbones. Her skin was as readable as a novel, her flesh a malleable masterpiece made with knives. Some of the scars were still pink, and a spiral design on her left breast was an angry, fresh red.

Murder scars, Molly thought. Syndicate badge. The sheer number of them made her throat constrict. She took a step backward, as if one step would make any difference to a skilled killer.

“I need a new set,” the woman said, sticking out her bare, untouched arm. “Here.”

Just go read it.