Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Being Familiar With a Witch Blog Tour Stop

Sweet Kitten, you won the e-Book. Check the comments for how to get it. Congratulations!

Enjoy the blurb and excerpt from my new erotic urban fantasy,
BEING FAMILIAR WITH A WITCH. It just came out January 25th, and already I got one great review for it. The excerpt is G-rated, though the eBook is not, but if you want to read a more explicit one you can read it at
Helen Madden's Blog where I stopped on my blog tour yesterday.

Today, I am giving away a download of it. All you have to do is leave a comment. Then come back tomorrow to this blog and check the comments to see who won it. I will leave a last comment of the winner, plus telling them to contact me at my email that I will leave.

ISBN: 978-1-60659-118-5


Warning: This title contains hot, graphic demonic sex that goes beyond magic.

Tina doesn't know she's a witch. It will take Charun, her demon Familiar, to convince her to make love with him and let loose her witch powers.

For if she doesn't, then with the demon army about to bring Armageddon to the Mortal Realm on Halloween, she won't stand a chance in Hell.

Some days it didn’t pay to get out of bed. For Tina, it didn’t pay even to get up for some weeks, never mind days. Worse, she didn’t have the comfort of the erotic dreams she used to have, with the same sexy man who starred in them.

Thank goodness, in a couple hours she would have the week off from work. Soon it would be Halloween, her most favorite holiday of all. Last week she had decorated her house, making both the front of her house and the yard spooky. Two unlit Jack-O-Lanterns sat on the steps of her front porch, their expressions empty of vivid light. Until Halloween night, when she would stick a candle inside each one and, with a flick of a lighter, set them a glow.

She had bought bags of candy a month ago in anticipation of the kids in costume. She always dressed as a witch. Though why she did, she never understood. It just it felt right for her to be costumed as a witch. Using a big metal cauldron she found years ago in an antique store, she would fill it to the brim with the candy and wait for the costumers to trip up the porch steps to her, uttering “Trick or Treat!” in loud, tinny voices. She would cackle and offer each child to take some goodies from her cauldron if they dared. The neighborhood looked forward to this every year, and the troop of children to her place grew each year.

But even her favorite holiday didn’t alleviate the problems at the bookstore today. She stopped daydreaming as the bell above the bookstore door rang. She grimaced as she saw the unhappy lines pinched in the face of the lady who stepped inside. A hat that should have been pert and cute sagged on top of mousy brown hair drawn back in a tight bun. The woman marched up to the counter and slapped a book down on the desk, hard. Tina frowned as she didn’t like seeing books abused. Then the woman stabbed her finger repeatedly onto the book.

“This was sold to me by one of the clerks here a week ago, promising it would make my husband amorous.” The lady snorted as she glared from behind Coke-bottle glasses. “All he did was read it for the ‘dirty’ pictures as he called them, and then fell asleep.” She tossed the cash receipt at Tina. The paper drifted down to the counter, just an inch from falling off at the edge. “I want my money back for this trash.”

“That’s no problem at all, ma’am.” Tina opened the cash register and withdrew some dollar bills and a few coins. She handed them over to the lady, who opened her purse and chucked it all inside. Then the lady stomped out of the bookstore, the door banging shut behind her and causing the bell to clang for a long time. Tina gave a sigh.

After that, it seemed every nasty customer in the world had stepped into the place. Each and every one had a complaint. One man demanded the book he swore he called two weeks ago to order, but nothing was in the ordering forms for it. An elderly lady didn’t like the racy and very erotic romance section wedged next to the sweet romances she normally bought. She claimed that the covers with the naked men gave her the flutters. Tina had noticed earlier that the lady stood in front of that section for quite a long while, but she didn’t say anything, just uttered how sorry she was. She told her that they were romances, too, and her manager had wanted them there. Her nose in the air, the bag of four sweet romances tucked under an arm, the woman hobbled out of the store without a backward glance.

A portly gentleman waddled in, wanting the latest thriller that had been advertised on a commercial on television last night. He couldn’t understand when Tina explained that it wouldn’t be out for another week. It had been on TV, so that meant it was out in his opinion. He clomped out, saying that the bookstore down the road was a better one anyway and always had what he wanted in stock. Tina just shook her head.

There had been more of the same thing all day long. Finally, she saw the last customer to the door and, with a sigh, locked up. Then she staggered through the automated motions of locking up the cash in the safe in the back of the store, cleaning up the bookstore, putting back misplaced books and magazines, and dumping and cleaning out the coffee pot in the break room. Grabbing her purse from her locker, she left by the back door, locked it, and then walked over to her car parked in back. The sound of thunder rumbled just then and she stopped to look up at the night sky, devoid of stars and the moon. She heard another blast of thunder. Saw a flash of lightening, too, as it lit up the area.

Great. The news had been wrong last night when they reported that the last of rain had left the area. Hopefully, it wouldn’t start until she made it home.

She climbed in and started the engine. The car roared to life and she turned on her windshield wipers, thanks to the terrible storm that hit just then. She drove down the alley and into traffic.

The rain came down in a torrential downpour, making her wipers work hard, but still she had problems seeing the road. It didn’t help much that it was also night. So dark, lights from oncoming cars shimmered, and she took care to make sure she didn’t weave over into their lane. The windshield fogged up from the humidity, and kept her wiping at the glass so she could see. Doing this for the umpteenth time, she didn’t notice the cat, not until her car was almost upon it.

It was black as a dark and stormy night, quoting a bad beginning to a book. The cat’s eyes shone in the brightness of her headlights, eerie like lamplights. She brought her car to a screeching halt, the car’s tires skidding for a bit. Her chest smacked into the steering wheel and she bit her lip to keep from crying out from the pain. She jammed the car in park and, leaving the engine running, climbed out of it to check on the feline. She peered at the front of her car and under it, but no cat. The rain drenched her within seconds as she tried to see if she could find it in the immediate area.

She couldn’t see the dratted thing.

“Kitty, kitty,” she called, “here, kitty-kitty. Nice puss.”

Thinking that maybe it had gotten away and knowing the storm made it impossible to locate it, Tina opened the driver’s side door and heard a plaintive meow. Something streaked past her and dove into the car. Freaked out, she screamed. Then she realized as she looked inside she saw a very wet black cat sitting on the bucket seat on the passenger side. It stared back at her with large, luminous eyes that seemed to glow. She got into the car and shut the door behind her. She felt her seat become very wet from the water running off her, and she shivered from cold.

Attempting to wring out her wet hair, she stared at the cat as it settled down and began to dry itself with its tongue. She sighed.

“Well, I see I have a passenger. You can stay in here and ride with me to my house, but cat, you are not coming inside my place. Hear me? You can remain on my front porch until the rain stops.”

The cat appeared unconcerned and kept lashing its tongue over its wet fur, though the tail lashed. Then it paused and looked up at her. She saw for the first time that it had very pretty yellow eyes, actually more the color of amber. They were large and round, eclipsing its face. For a minute, she seemed to drown in their depths. She blinked, breaking the spell. The cat ducked its head back down to its side and went back to drying itself. Its sharp ears perked up, twitching. Its purring filled the interior of her car.

Tina took the car out of park and maneuvered it back onto the road. The downpour had calmed to a misting. She kept her eyes on the road, ignoring the smell of wet fur and how cold she felt. She would take the occasional glimpse of the cat from the corner of her eye and see that it was lying down and purring. It should have bothered her. After all, what stray cat would be so well behaved in a strange car, especially not in a cat carrier? Except, she accepted it all. It felt comfortable, as if that cat belonged with her.

On Writing Being Familiar With a Witch:

When this idea came for an erotic urban fantasy popped into my head, I saw this demon who could take human form, plus other shapes too, and a human woman who doesn’t know about the destiny she has as a witch. Not just becoming a witch, but one who must fight a demonic army to stop Armageddon, too.

The story too off and I typed it up. At first, it was a 10,000 word story for a ePublisher who had closed not long after I joined them. Lucky for me, they never sent me the contract and the urban fantasy was still mine. When I joined Phaze, I knew there was more to this story between Charun and Tina. And so, I began to turn this short story into a short novel.

I found that there’s more to tell about Tina and Charun, that it will take their love for each other to halt Hell from winning the battle this time around and causing Armageddon from happening. It’s more than an erotic tale full of sex, it’s how one witch must join with her Familiar to prevent the end of the world.

I hope you take the time to get this urban fantasy and check it out. I started working on the sequel to it, tentatively titled “A Familiar Tango With Hell. For in my head there are more stories to tell about Charun and Tina. And I hope readers out there will embrace them, for they’re quite a couple.

Sapphire Phelan

Go beyond the usual, instead take the unusual that stretches the boundaries and find romance with Sapphire Phelan's aliens, werewolves, vampires, fairies, and other supernatural/otherworldly heroes and heroines.

Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Caribbean Dreams of Love By Bess McBride!

I'm tickled to see that my recent release, a light paranormal/fantasy called Caribbean Dreams of Love received a Fantastic Review from Amy at Writers and Readers of Distinctive Fiction. Here is what she has to say:

"This is such a heart warming book! It tells a story of a woman who gets another shot in love and romance. The story catches my interest from the start and keeps me going till the end. It's just hard to put down this book and I just could not stop reading.

Bess McBride writes a fantastic story in Caribbean Dreams of Love....This is a must read for dreamers and to those who never stop looking for true love. Thumbs up!"

Blurb: Daisy and her sixteen-year-old daughter, Lily, are embarking on a Caribbean cruise. She isn't looking for anything special on the cruise other than a pleasant break from her humdrum existence as long-time divorced single mother to a busy teenage girl. She certainly isn't prepared for an enigmatic man named Peter whose idiosyncrasies in dress and speech mark him as an eccentric person to avoid. But Daisy can't avoid him. In fact, she begins to obsess about him from the first moment she catches him staring at her in the cruise ship terminal. Peter remains elusive and mysterious throughout the cruise. She catches sight of him occasionally, never often enough to please her, and they connect one wonderful night as he sweeps her into his arms for a waltz. A waltz? On a Caribbean cruise ship? While Daisy's dinner companions share nightly tales of the legends of cursed pirates, Daisy dreams of the mysterious man who has captured her heart.


Bjorn glanced at his enrapt audience and took a deep breath. Daisy cringed. Something was coming.

"And with his last ounce of strength, Captain Smith grabbed his sword and plunged it in Gentleman Jones' heart."

A stab of pain seemed to knife through Daisy's own heart, and she involuntarily put a hand to the painful spot just below her left collarbone.

Even Becky was speechless, her jaw hung open. Lily took a breath and asked the question uppermost in Daisy's mind.

"Did he...does he...?"

"They say he still wanders the Caribbean, alone and lonely, a ghost with no hope of dying or returning to the living."

Bjorn's voice drifted away. He scanned the faces of his audience solemnly.

He shrugged. "But it's just a silly story, one of many. Who knows if any of them are true?"

And in a surprise move, he picked up his fork and resumed eating. Johana smiled demurely and took a sip of water before she too resumed eating.

Bjorn's stunned dinner companions stared at him. Lily, Daisy and Becky exchanged saddened glances.

Jim broke the silence when he started laughing and clapped Bjorn on the back. Bjorn choked slightly and put his napkin to his lips.

"Well, you sure had us going. I'll give you that. truth to the story?"

Bjorn leaned slightly away from Jim and shrugged once again. "I find the Caribbean folklore fascinating, but many of the stories are just that. Stories. I heard this tale from a man in a museum in Nassau once. I liked it." He gave the group a sheepish smile.

"So, it's just a fairy tale?" Becky asked.

"Not a fairy tale," Bjorn smiled slightly. "Just an old legend. If the story were true, we would have to believe in ghosts...and I for one do not care to think about such things." He picked up his knife and fork again and began to cut his food, seemingly no longer interested.

"Just a legend," murmured Johana. She shook her head in amusement. "A story. Bjorn has many."

"Mom, what are you doing? Are you okay?"

Daisy turned to meet her daughter's eyes. Lily nodded toward Daisy's hand still dramatically clutched to her chest.

She colored and dropped her hand. The pain had eased.

Such a sad story!

Video Trailer:

Buy Link:

Bess McBride

Monday, January 26, 2009

Angel Vindicated

I'm happy to announce my urban fantasy, Angel Vindicated, has been contracted by Cerridwen Press. Release date to be determined after the fun editing stage is complete. I loved writing this story, and I can't wait to share it with the world (yes, I'm optimistic). Not that I don't enjoy writing my usual paranormal romance. I do. Very much so. And I hope you'll enjoy it as well. It's just that Angel Vindicated was so different that I had to step out of my box... For a few reasons:

-It’s in first person. My heroine, Abby Angel, is the star of the story and she has a ton of fun with it, if I do say so myself. And I did.
-It’s not a straight romance, although there is a lot of steamy romance in it. I couldn’t deny my heroine that. Being an Angel, her life is pretty restricted. She has to have some fun, right?
-It’s grittier (some violence, plenty of action, lots of dry humor)

Here's a blurb:

Abigail Angel may not enjoy being a law enforcement Angel for Demon Control, a branch of Angels Inc, but she excels at it. Deporting unruly demons back to Hell is her specialty. Her personal life, on the other hand, could use a little work. The virtuous and pristine genes seem to be missing in this particular Angel, getting Abigail in trouble more than she likes to admit. To date, her biggest vice has been Simeon Keller, a half demon/half human, who effortlessly managed to seduce Abigail five years ago. She’s avoided him ever since but she still can’t seem to knock the bad reputation the blunder has branded on her.

Now, the threat of a demon rebellion has Angels Inc overwhelmed and Abigail must trust Simeon to help her find and deport the fiends who are attempting to destroy earth’s only salvation. Staying out of Simeon’s bed is the least of her worries as she fights for her life and the lives of all Angels and humans everywhere.

Stay tuned for more info. Cover, excerpts and release date coming soon.

Happy Monday!

Viola Estrella

Bewitching You – Coming soon from the Wild Rose Press
Finding Fate – Free Read available now from the Wild Rose Press
Angel Vindicated – Coming soon from Cerridwen Press

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Character Arcs

Something that has greatly improved my writing is the use of Character Arcs. Once I have an idea of a story and characters, I sit down and write an Arc for both my hero and heroine. It's nothing fancy, nothing long, just a few key components scribbled down. And since I write romance, I make sure that the hero's and heroine's ARCs work together, er, actually don't work together, meaning conflict.

The basic ARC that I've adapted for myself goes like this:

What is the hero's motivation, dream, desire?

How does that conflict with the heroine's motivation?

What is the BLACK MOMENT, the moment when it seems hopeless?

How will that be overcomed and what sacrifice will be made to achieve it? Does the motivation change?

Let me walk you through my Character Arcs for my newest book Chase the Wind so you have an idea of what I'm rambling about.

Hero Kinalan
Kin's motivation:
His brother has been poisoned and there is only one little known cure in the far mountains. Time is short, but Kin is one of the elite cavalry and he believes if a small group rides fast and hard, they can make it.

Conflict with heroine: Kin needs Santil to guide him to the cure, but he is distrustful of her race, the Eaglekins, believing they had something to do with the poisoning. Plus, Eaglekins don't ride horses. She'll only slow them down.

Black Moment: When Kin has the cure in his grasp, but has to give it up for a greater cause. (Don't want to spoil by giving the reason why here.)

Sacrifice: He does give up the cure and the hope to save his brother. He also has to learn to trust the Eaglekins. (But don't worry, this does have a HEA.)

Heroine Santil
Santil's motivation: Santil is desperate to convince the army that even though eagles are being used as assassins, the Eaglekins want that stopped as much as the army does.

Conflict with Hero: He sees her as the enemy. As a proud Eaglekin, she doesn't like taking orders.

Black Moment: Being a captive once herself, she can't watch Kin take another person captive even though that person has the means to save Kin's brother. (Well, I guess you know the plot now.)

Sacrifice: Has to do something regarding the eagles that she swore she'd never do. (Okay, not all the plot is revealed.)
Just for fun, try doing an Arc for your characters and see how that works for you. Let me know.
You can read the first chapter of Chase the Wind at Sign up for my newsletter so I can tell you when it comes out and what contests I'll be holding for its release.

Saturday, January 17, 2009

Cindy K. Green, New Fantasy Author

“Believe me, Oracle, your head will do you no good separated from your shoulders. Tell me what I want to know. The amulet!”

The Oracle of Tesgara cowered as never before, appearing more frail than her ancient years had hence bespoke. Her lined face grew ever more pallid just as those eerie white eyes of hers fluttered to a close.

Nikolas, Regent over the kingdom of Thaylandria, grabbed her shoulders before she collapsed to the floor. “I haven’t the time for your contrivances.” He struck her face hard without a second thought. There was too much at stake. Her eyes flickering, finally remained open and he tossed her downward.

Turning his back on her, he observed his own reflection in the silver shield hanging on the wall. After straightening the diadem atop his head, the green stone within flickered in the torch light in unison with his own dark brown eyes. He caressed the gold curve of the small crown. It was that of a king he desired, but that would only come after vanquishing his enemies. He twirled his cerulean robes as he returned to the old witch still quivering in a corner upon the stone floor.

Hunching over her, he seethed inside. Only through maintaining all self control, did he refrain from squeezing the last rancid breath out of the old woman. She still held secrets he needed if his plan was to come to be realized.

“Disclose to me all that you know of this amulet?” Grabbing onto her coarse gray robes, he raised her off the ground close to his face. “You will tell me.” He dropped her back to the ground and clenched his hands. Sucking in a breath, he gained control over himself again.

“The High Oracle,” she croaked out while wiping spittle mixed with blood from her chin.

He narrowed his stare upon her. “What of her?”

“Only the High Oracle knows of the location.”

He forced a flattering smile to eclipse his face. “Yes, but as her own favorite student she must have related to you more than you have revealed. You shall be rewarded for your loyalty to the crown.” He reached out an upturned hand and helped her into a sitting position.

“The Tamzyn Amulet has been under the safeguard of the High Oracle here in Glynar these past thousand years. With its power, you can destroy the strongest of your enemies. A stone white as a dove’s breast, it glistens with the magic of the ancients.”

Nikolas widened his eyes. “Yes, yes!” This was what he’d been working for all these years while he bided his time to claim the throne of Thaylandria as his own. “And where is it? Where is the amulet?”


Oh, sorry, I was becoming overly engrossed in my new romantic fantasy novel, The Princess and the Rogue. Don’t you love a good fantasy novel where you can forget about the present and get lost in a past that never was? I grew up loving to read fantasy: David Eddings, JRR Tolkein, CS Lewis, RA Salvatore, Anne McCaffrey, Tracy Hickman and Margaret Weis…the list could go on and on.

Hi, I’m Cindy K. Green, one of the authors here at the Paranormal Romance Writer blog. As an author, I’ve been asked many times what is the one genre I don’t write in but would like to. In years past the answer has been: FANTASY. You see, I already write in several genres: Inspirational, Contemporary, Suspense, Historical and now I can add Fantasy to the lot.

I’ve been planning my fantasy novel for some time. I wanted to write a FUN fantasy novel. There are so many dramatic, serious epics and I wanted to write one with loads of humor while still staying with the recipe for a good fantasy novel.

Two of my favorite literary heroes have got to be Robin Hood and the Scarlet Pimpernel. What do these two have in common? They both fight injustice with a comedic flair. Right? I used that in creating my hero in The Princess and the Rogue.

When I first started writing, I wrote Young Adult, Historical and Inspirational. I was a middle school teacher after all. And as my writing career took off, I stayed with the sweeter side of romance. I’ve had the most fun creating my characters in whatever genre but nothing was so fun as writing my fantasy novel--which surprisingly came out a lot more sensual. Last spring, I finished reading a friend’s book. It was a new spin on the Robin Hood myth, and I loved it. It also inspired me to begin my fantasy after all this time of procrastinating. I was on fire and the first draft wrote in only four weeks.

I look forward to sharing more of this book which should release from The Wild Rose Press sometime in 2009. It takes place in the troubled kingdom of Thaylandria--A sheltered Princess, a masked Outlaw, and a Land forbidden of magic.

Stay Tuned!

Read excerpts on my website

Friday, January 16, 2009


January brings a renewed look at the balance in our lives. Do we exercise more, eat healthy food, or splurge on chocolate? A rededication to spend quality time with family even with the endless demands on our time of work and chores. The financial situation has forced me to reevaluate my spending so I borrow more from the library and prioritize which of my favorite authors latest release I can buy. A new year….a new balance.

As a writer there is even more to juggle. Do I engage my muse and write or promote the latest release? And during the writing process, it’s all about finding the magic formula that sells. The perfect combination of plot, character, narrative, dialogue, and setting detail. And it changes with every story.

Currently I have an imbalance in my writing. I don’t show enough of my character growth. I tend to skip ahead to the end. Some is a personal reaction to the amount of angst I’ve read in recent books. They cover a day or two and spend too much (in my opinion) time in the heroines inner thoughts. I get bored and start skipping pages. Not something I want my readers to do…but I’ve gone too far the other way and not included enough growth. I haven’t found that perfect balance, yet.

As a reader, how much time do you like experience with the characters – a day, week, month, or year?

Monday, January 12, 2009

Resolved: One Ghost Story

We all make New Year's resolutions. Well, a lot of us do, anyway. One of mine was to write four novels by June. Why June? Just because here on the farm life gets pretty involved when the warm weather arrives. Gardening, hiking, rowing and lots of other outdoor things keep me from my desk so getting most of my year's writing done early will make the warm months more pleasurable. At least that's the plan!

One of 2009's novels is going to be a ghost story. I'm mulling over two ideas, trying to decide which one to use. One is a contemporary story. The other is set during the Civil War. Both have strong heroines, hunky heroes and a dead body or two in unexpected places. Oh, and each has a ghost who wreaks havoc at nearly every turn.

So...what do you think? Contemporary? Or historical? Any advice is greatly appreciated!

And what about you? Have you made any resolutions for the New Year?

Thursday, January 8, 2009

The Sallie Suite is Haunted!

My husband is not much of a B&B man, but he does love history. So, when we visited historical Salado, TX, this New Years with relatives, he agreed to stay in the Historic Rose Mansion built in 1872 by Major Archibald Rose. It was the home of his family for a hundred years. The home is filled with antiques and artifacts used and treasured during the family's lifetime. Guests can browse at leisure.

The architecture is interesting in that you approach the enclosed stairway from the rear of the entry hall. I thought these old homes had exposed staircases and they met you as you entered the room.

To the left you enter the front parlor, move on into the rear parlor, and then into the dining room with the kitchen at the end. The front three room are now used for dining, though the front parlor also has a sitting area. One bedroom is located downstairs. It's the Salado Room.

Upstairs are two bedrooms, the Quilters Room and the Sallie Suite. To reach the bathroom in the suite, you walk down several steps into a small, long room with an entrance onto a porch. Off the porch and behind the suite is another room, the Traveler's Room, with an outer entrance behind the suite. The outdoor stairway is steep.

The Sallie Suite is named for Major
Rose's wife, Sallie. Pictures of the couple hang in both the front parlor and dining room. They are a distinguished pair.

Many guests, who have no prior knowledge of the mansion's reputation, have reported sightings of a spirit. They claim to have seen a woman, dressed in a green or white robe, at various places in the home, yet have never felt afraid or threatened. Guests have described the apparition as being warm and maternal.

Though many believe the resident ghost is Sallie, it is one of her eleven children, her daughter Beatrice as identified from an old family photograph.

My husband and I slept peacefully both nights we stayed in the Sallie Suite. Though I had to get up and trip down those stairs to the bathroom, I saw nothing out of the ordinary. It wasn't until I picked up a copy of Salado, A Jewel In the Crown Of Texas, Free Guide to the Historic Village of Salado, Fall 2005 Edition, for my blog post on the Stagecoach Inn that I saw the article by Chris McGregor, Staff Writer on Visiting Salado's 'haunted' Past.

I complained all the way home. "Darn, I'd loved to have seen Sallie, Beatrice, anyone." If I'd known, maybe I would have been more in-tune, but I doubt it. I guess the spirit knew we were all having a good time and didn't need any intervention. Plus, we had colds and she may have avoided our sneezing.

I do have to say, New Years Eve, as we sat around the fire in the front parlor, an aura showed up in two pictures. Maybe she was around and we just didn't know it.

I give credit to Chris McGregor for much of the information in this post. I loved your article, Chris, and thank you.

If you're ever in Salado and want a nice place to stay, visit The Rose Mansion. The food and hospitality is wonderful.

Happy reading and writing!


Thursday, January 1, 2009

Love Beyond the Veil

Margaret lived in a nursing home in Florida to spend her final years before time was ready to take her. She was a sweet lady, mildly confused, but mobile. She was bustling about her room, making her bed and setting up the pillows at its head. She was running a brush through her silver hair, when the nurse came in with a dinner tray.
Margaret smiled at her. "No thank you. I won't be having dinner, my husband is coming for me at six." Margaret sprayed a bit of perfume on her wrist, then patted her hair into place.The nurse set the tray on her bedside table.
"In case he runs late, I will keep it here." The nurse smiled with indulgence at the older woman.
"Daniel is never late," Margaret told her. Margaret's husband, Daniel, had died ten years earlier, but she felt no need to argue the point with the sweet lady and she left to pass the other trays.
After an hour, the nurse came to pick up Margaret's tray, it was untouched. Margaret was resting on her bed, a gentle smile on her lips. The nurse went to wake her. Soon she realized Margaret had passed.
She called the doctor to pronounce her dead.
It was 5:50.
Daniel wasn't late.

Marie was born in 1895. Her life was spent pouring her love upon her family, including a sister she took in after the death of her mother. She lost her beloved husband, Peter, in 1963.
Thirty years later she finally began to tire. We urged her to stay for 100 years but she was ready and at peace with dying at the young age of 98, and it did seem so young on her.
Her children were with her while she was on her death bed, at the very end, she sat up, her eyes wide with wonder, her lips smiling.
She then eased gently back on her pillow and took her last breath.What had she seen?
I think she saw Heaven. The gates opened wide for this gentle woman and just inside the gates was Peter. In my selfishness, I wanted my grandmother to live forever. It's not fair to lose someone so easy to love.
My new years resolution is to be as easy to love as she was.

Jennifer Childers, author"Kindertransport"
Wild Rose PressAugust 2009