Spooktacular, spooktacular!

To say that my husband and I love Halloween would be a gross understatement.

I come by it naturally. When I was young, pumpkin carving was the biggest event of the year (well, except maybe egg hunting at Easter), and my Mom took particular joy in greeting the kids at the door. I could always tell which little monsters she thought ranked highest in the costume department - they received handfuls of candy.

We rarely decorated our yard, though.

Big difference now that handsome hubby is in my life.

Two years ago, we began a collection of spooky outdoor decor. Last Halloween, a giant blow-up skull took center stage amidst talking skeletons, glowing ghosts, and a jar of dancing eyeballs. My husband even donned his creepy mask, and for the kids that were old enough, treated them first to a scare before dolling out the candy.

This year, we've gone all out.

Hubby and his daughter built an incredible (and realistic) seven-foot coffin out of wood, which we then painted in browns and greens. It's absolutely perfect for the yard, because we've added to our skeleton collection yet again. Several will be "hanging out" in our makeshift graveyard, partially hidden by the fog machine, or highlighted by the strobe light. A giant spider will drop from the doorframe. A ghost will fly across the sidewalk from two trees. The doormat will offer a spooky greeting, and the door itself will be splattered with fake blood.

It's the kind of thing the neighborhood kids have come to expect from us - and already, they've been peeking into the yard to see if we've set anything up.

Sadly, we live in a neighbourhood that doesn't allow us to leave our decor out overnight, and our spooktacular graveyard scene must wait until Sunday morning for its creation. But we've got plenty planned to round out the weekend - a visit to the Farm of Fear, a tour of the haunted houses at Screamfest, a pumpkin carving extravaganza, and at least one night curling up on the couch with a few horror flicks.

My spine is already tingling with excitement.

What are your plans for Halloween? Is it a big deal holiday for you and your family? We love ideas!

Oh. It takes a lot to scare me, but I confess, my biggest fear right now is that you haven't clicked here to donate to the amazing Candyland's fundraiser.

You can also donate by buying something from this mindblowing artist (who I am currently obsessed with). A portion of the sales from Rose Cooper's Etsy shop will be donated to Candy's cause. This artwork would make great gifts for the holidays...

(Like for ME, dear family...just saying!)

Ok, off to start my spooktacular weekend. Happy Halloween everyone. Hope it's perfect!

The Book In My Bag Today: Fantasy in Death, J.D. Robb

Book 50 - Juliet

I fell in love with Juliet before I turned the first page.

The back cover blurb spoke of a modern tale of Romeo and Juliet, somehow merging with Shakespeare's classic tale of tragedy and passion. Anne Fortier had me at Shakespeare.

I fell further in love with Juliet after the one-page prologue. A few hundred words that set the tone of the book. I settled in to be swept away.

For the most part, I was.

Described as The Davinci Code for the modern woman, Juliet is part adventure, part romance. But unlike Dan Brown's runaway hit, Juliet is beautifully written. The pages come alive with descriptions that breathe with authenticity - I felt as though I was in Siena, Italy searching for my Romeo. My mouth watered as I imagined myself indulging in gelato, warm bread, salted prosciuttio ham. I recognized the architecture, the the way the locals spoke, Italy's mysterious hold. And I ached to go back to Italy and see all that I missed on my short tour.

The pacing of Juliet isn't meant to compete with Dan Brown-style thrillers, though the mystery is every bit as compelling, and perhaps from a literary standpoint, just as controversial as a book like The Davinci Code. Juliet challenges the notion that Romeo and Juliet is a work of fiction, but rather fictionalized accounts of a true story based on real people.

The novel begins with Julie Jacobs, a Shakespearean expert who has always been fascinated with Romeo and Juliet. Indeed, she can recite parts of it at will. But when her aunt Rose dies, Julie learns that most of her life has been a charade. For her real name is Guilettia Tolomei (Juliet) and her birth mother has left her a treasure she must find in Siena.

There, Juliet finds a chest of journals and old letters, mystery, and of course, her Romeo.

It's somewhat ironic that I began this book as I completed edits to ABSOLUTION and began working again on HEARTLESS. Juliet is told with parallel story lines (as I have done in ABSOLUTION), and the descriptions of Italy gave me hope that my own Italian exposition will bring the country to life for those who have not been there. In HEARTLESS, my protagonist finds clues to modern "cases" by studying the past...and Romeo and Juliet certainly comes into play at one point.

All that said, I'd be remiss if I didn't flag a bit of a saggy-taffy middle, a point somewhere in both story lines that dragged for a little too long. I'm accustomed to thriller and sometimes question whether my expectations for all literature hinge on pacing, but at the end of the day I need to feel compelled to keep turning pages. There were parts of Juliet I could have simply skipped through.

As well, pieces of the mystery were obvious, and while I don't mind figuring out some things ahead of time, there's a fine line between being predictable and making the reader feel smart. For me, Juliet tipped slightly towards predicability.

Without question, Fortier is a stunning writer. Sentences flowed beautifully, and the dialogue in some places was staggering - strong and with purpose. Considering dialogue is still one of my weak points, Juliet provides a solid case study in "what works."

I admit, given my quick fall, I wanted my love affair to last throughout Juliet. Close...but not quite. The passion I felt at the start dwindled to a slow burn by the end.

Still, a book worth getting lost in.

Hey! Did you click the link yesterday? Please help Candy make a difference. Just $1 can change a life.

The Book In My Bag Today: Fantasy in Death, J.D. Robb

Brady bunch aMUSEment

Yeah, I know, Eric Martsolf isn't the most well-known actor. Drawing a blank? His most recent gig is Brady on Days of Our Lives.

I've got a long list of guilty TV pleasures I'm not afraid to talk about. Dexter. Supernatural. Vampire Diaries. True Blood. 24. So You Think You Can Dance. And the list goes on...

But all of those shows serve another purpose - like sucking up the cleverness of characters like Dexter, swooning over Damon in Vampire Diaries or Jack Bauer in 24 (sniff), wishing I could dance like the youth popping it on SYTYCD, or simply seething with jealousy over the brilliance of Supernatural and True Blood.

But I've also reacquainted myself with Days of our Lives (thanks, PVR) much to my husband's shock (and misery), and honestly, other than satisfying some undefined need and providing a bit of eye candy, Days is truly just a guilty pleasure.

I've been an on-and-off Days fan since before I started school. Nona (grandma) and I used to watch it every day together. That and Another World. As my Nona used to say, Days had the "cuter" boys. Apparently that hasn't changed over the years.

I once had a front row seat on the Bo Brady bandwagon. But while Peter Reckless is looking a little worn, Eric, here, definitely is not.

Having stayed home sick for most of last week, I've got much to catch up on this week - which means less time with my guilty pleasures, and more time with my Mac. But I admit, I got used to my daily dose of Brady, so instead of giving him up entirely, I've made him this week's muse avatar.

Don't worry, Eric, there's no lines to memorize, no brooding character to portray. Just...stand there, k? Thanks.

Hey! YOU can make a difference in the world today. Blogger pal Candy can show you how. (Plus, there's prizes...)

Click here to enter this amazing contest.

The Book In My Bag Today: Fantasy in Death, J.D. Robb

Book 49 - Under my Skin

"Under my Skin proves that Canadian YA fiction can be sexy, fun and snarky as hell."

This sentence is splashed across much of Judith Graves' promotion materials - and might be considered a bit smug if it wasn't filled with so much truth.

Under my Skin, the first in Graves' YA paranormal trilogy is everything her clever marketing claims it to be. And more.

Set in Northern Alberta, the novel features Eryn, a tough but sympathetic young girl caught between life as a werewolf and life as a human. 

Before you dismiss this as another werewolf book, hang on. Under my Skin introduces a wonderful collection of paranormals - like vampires, witches, dark sprites and much more. A refreshing change from the onslaught of straight werewolf and vampire novels on the market - NOT that I'm complaining...

All Eryn's parents ever wanted was for her to have a normal life, but when they "banish" her to Redgrave, a small Northern Alberta town, Eryn quickly learns she isn't the only beastie on the block. And before long, she's swept up in an intense love triangle and a local mystery. It's a compelling plot that keeps you turning pages. All. Night. Long.

Graves is a master at character development. Eryn is strong, but vulnerable - and perhaps somewhat fragile as she struggles with her inner demons. The two Delecroix boys who have caught her attention - dark, brooding Wade and protective, Alec - are sexy, and likeable love-able. It's no wonder Eryn struggles with choosing one - I couldn't decide which danger boy to root for, either.

Under my Skin is tightly crafted, and filled with wit and humour, essential elements for today's competitive YA marketplace. And in this case, the novel absolutely lives up to its hype. I can hardly wait to get my claws into the second in the series, Second Skin.

An opportunity for young writers!

Do you know any teens (ages 13-19) that would love to learn how to write YA fiction to DIE for? At Winter WordsWorth, an Alberta weekend writing retreat for youth with the write stuff, master storyteller Judith Graves will explain how to REVAMP your work so your characters have BITE. (Rather than sparkle...)

Know a young writer that would benefit? Get the full scoop on Winter WordsWorth here.

The Book in My Bag Today: Juliet, Anne Fortier

How long until your guilt-o-meter starts ticking?

Apparently, mine can hold out for about three days.

On any given week, I've got at least four projects on the go. Big projects - like novels, or a cross stitch (yes, a cross stitch!), or a new proposal of some sort.

This in addition to my long To-Do list. The kind that is never fully realized because I add a few new things a day. Like making cookies for handsome hubby, or washing the dogs, or organizing the hall closet...

I'm not whining. Truthfully, I accept this "take on everything" attitude as one of my many character flaws. My family accepts it as well, and when I'm not racing around doing something, my husband and stepdaughter are scratching their heads wondering if I'm ok.

I haven't been ok for the last week-ish. A massive head cold left me bed ridden for two whole days where I could not read, or write - heck, I could barely breathe. By the third day, I could keep my eyes open for long enough to finish reading a book and start another. I even wrote a blog post.

I took those three days in stride, accepting that my superwoman cape was at the dry cleaners and I had no choice but to suck it up. No choice but to relax. Handsome hubby fed me chicken noodle soup. Awesome stepdaughter made me smoothies. I caught up on soap operas. And only thought about what I should be doing once....or twice.

But it's day four now and I'm still feeling like crap.

The guilt-o-meter kicked in about midnight last night. Which is when I realized there was a pile of laundry in the corner of my bedroom. Which made me think about the two bathrooms that could use some TLC since my Sunday routine was interrupted by the cold. Which of course reminded me that the carpets needed vacuuming.

As expected, my mind didn't stop stressing over unfinished housework. It moved on to the day job(s) tasks sitting in wait, coupled with a few contract assignments that are creeping up on deadline. I thought about the cross stitch I'm trying to finish for my stepmom for Christmas, and how I promised my stepdaughter I'd help her with a short story she has to write.

And finally, I started thinking about my writing.

As I wrote the e-mail to my boss this morning explaining that I simply couldn't muster up the energy to make it in quite yet, that guilt etched up my throat and gave me a stomach ache of extraordinary proportions. I *should* be at work. And if not at work, shouldn't I be puttering around the house tidying, or better yet, cleaning with purpose?

The To-Do list started small, a few things to curb the guilt (like make cookies), but in 10 minutes it morphed into something massive - a glaring reminder of everything I'm missing by not being healthy. Not just work, and writing and house cleaning, but...dance! All three classes today...

Alas, it would take a miracle for me to feel well enough to attend dance tonight - and even if I did feel better, guilt wouldn't allow me to leave the house.

Instead, I'm sipping on orange juice, eating chicken noodle soup and staring at a To-Do list just keeps growing and....

Sigh. Ok. Maybe I am whining a little.

How about you? How many days can you stay home sick before you start stressing about what isn't getting done? And how do you curb the feeling of guilt?

Book 48 - Another One Bites the Dust

When Jennifer Rardin died last month, the world lost a truly gifted writer.

I started reading Another One Bites the Dust a few days before learning of the author's unexpected passing and considered, briefly, putting it back in my TBR pile.

For those that recall, my review of Rardin's first book, Once Bitten Twice Shy, wasn't all hearts and roses. I never really connected with the character, Jasmine Parks, vampire assassin. And believe me, I wanted to.

I worried that if I didn't love her this time around, my thoughts on the book would be jaded. I'm glad I stuck it through.


I'd be lying if I said the connection was much stronger for me in Another One Bites The Dust, but I admit, I have a deeper appreciation for Rardin's skill.


This novel is action packed, almost from the first page. Between the fight scenes, and amidst the gore, there's humour. And not the cheesy kind, either. I love how the book made me laugh out loud without cheapening the drama - not an easy task.

Neither is developing character vulnerability. Having created my own "Jaz Parks" action superhero (though not a vampire assassin), I know how hard it is to give that kind of character believable weaknesses. Jaz has several of them, and it's hard not to feel for her.

In my last review, I noted that Rardin had tremendous wordplay ability and this holds true for the second book. I've never seen so many clever metaphors. There's a fine line between overkill and just right, but this novel nails it. There was a piece of me that wanted to copy down every clever turn of phrase, but the metaphors are SO unique, a seasoned Rardin reader would recognize them in a New York minute....

Still, I found myself getting lost in the plot. Too many characters I couldn't follow, and in a way, too much time between this book and the first in the series. The action sequences made sense, but the rest felt misplaced.

Added to that was my lack of reading time, coupled with a few days of being slammed by a cold, and I sort of struggled across the finish line. That being said, it's likely I'll read the rest of the books in this series, including the two completed before her passing. It's not hard to understand why Rardin had such a wonderful fan following - and as a writer, I'm in awe of her skill.

I'm also hoping that Jaz Parks will grow on me the more of the series I read.

The Book In My Bag Today: Juliet, Anne Fortier

Hands Off my Muse(s)

Every Monday when I post a muse avatar, my handsome husband puts up a little fuss. 

He's really not the jealous type, but he's made more than one snide comment about my choices, especially when I select Kiefer Sutherland or Ian Sommerhalder. If we allowed each other a celebrity "list" Kiefer and Ian would sit at the top of mine.

My defence has always been that the muse avatar isn't about celebrity crushes (with few exceptions) but how I think they can inspire my writing.

Which is why I had no choice but to make hubby and his beautiful daughter this week's muses. Truthfully, without either of them this weekend, final edits on ABSOLUTION wouldn't be complete.

My husband always stands firmly in my corner, and though he isn't one to "read" the book, he makes sure I have the tools to get things done. On Saturday, he took over the domestic duties and spruced up my dungeon office to give me a safe zone for creation. When my mood took a downward turn due to stress, he took me out for a well-deserved break.

And my amazing stepdaughter... Wow. If not for her sitting beside me, talking me through each edit and checking off the completed pages, I would have been tempted to crawl into bed and sleep. Instead, the book was e-mailed where it needed to be, my house is clean, and I'm spending today being fed chicken noodle soup by handsome hubby and sleeping off the nasty head cold that surfaced sometime yesterday.

Yes, I am a lucky girl.

There's a million projects in my idea factory, and with ABSOLUTION finally off my plate, I should be able to work on them. But not today. Today I'm going to spend time being taken care of by the best muses a girl could ask for.

I'm confident they'll keep me motivated for the rest of the week, too.

The Book In My Bag Today: Another One Bites the Dust, Jennifer Rardin