Books, Reviews, Short Stories, Authors, Publicity, a little poetry, music to complement...and other stuff including politics, about life... "Books, Cats: Life is Sweet..."
In 2020, doctors gave me two years to live. I sat in the hospital bed, completely stunned after this diagnosis. Two years... I was only 37, and I couldn't imagine dying before turning 40.
Suddenly, all of my past accomplishments seemed so paltry and insignificant. Who cared that I once ran a newspaper, that I'd managed a medical practice, or that I'd owned successful businesses? Who cared about my bachelor's degree or a stupid wall I'd once had lined with awards and certificates? Faced with death... nothing seemed to matter except the people I loved most. I just wanted them to know how much they meant to me—how much I didn't want to leave them, especially my kids. But this was during the height of COVID concerns, and as such, medical staff wouldn't even allow my children into the facility. So there I sat, contemplating the future.
I stayed in that hospital through surgeries and treatments for over a month. I knew, that single diagnosis—stage 4 melanoma—would spur even more hospitalizations, surgeries, infusion treatments, and radiation therapies that would probably last for the rest of my short life. Despite the seemingly hopelessness of my plight, when I got home from that first hospital stay, I formulated a plan. New things mattered to me: I would live differently, show my family how much I loved them, and pack into two years what some people miss in their entire lifetimes.
Norma Furniss, an avid reader of the newspaper I once ran, left me a typewriter after she died. I still remember setting my walker next to the Quiet Riter in my home. Why had she given me her typewriter? Back before the melanoma had riddled my spine and brain with tumors, Norma had thought I was "somethin' special." Yet, this gift meant even more after my diagnosis because it became my lifeline. Somehow, almost directed by fate, I began documenting my new way of life (my ups and downs, my successes and failures). I'd always loved writing, but I never fully understood how healing it could be. This all started on Norma's Quiet Riter, a typewriter that's almost 70 years old, and transitioned to social media.
As of Oct. 30, 2022, it'll be exactly two years since doctors put an expiration date on my life. I'm still fighting cancer, but some shocking things have happened. I've gained 52,000 followers across my social media channels, my cancer memoir got published and became a No. 2 bestseller on Amazon, and I've checked off many goals I had on my list before cancer even reached my radar.
But, although these things seem wonderful, after everything I've endured, the thing I'm most grateful for is that my family and friends know how much I love them. No matter how long I live, I honestly think my words will stay with my husband and children for as long as they need them. After everything, I'm happy God gave me the last two years--at least--to make these unforgettable memories with my children. There is hope for me. Some of the cancer in my body has died while the root site remains. But like I told someone the other day, my cancer might not be in remission—yet—but at least my crappy attitude sure is.
--Elisa
EC Stilson,
author of Two More Years
Two More Years is a memoir by EC Stilson that details her journey as she battles cancer and learns to live again. Elisa was married to Mike and had four kids already when she was diagnosed with stage four melanoma. After many bad diagnoses and wishing for Doctor House to be real, Elisa’s oncologist finally figured out what was wrong with her and gave her two years to live. With cancer now spread to her spine and brain, there wasn’t much hope for her. However, Elisa decided to live the most in the remaining time she had, share happiness with her children, and talk with other terminally ill people. While she had no idea what life had in store for her, Elisa decided she would live the remainder of her days on her terms and not as a hopeless mess.
Two More Years is just a beautiful and emotional memoir. Author EC Stilson lets her words guide the reader through her story. From her diagnosis to the hopeful ending, she lays her heart bare for the world to read and take courage from. I loved how, even when she received her diagnosis, Elisa wasn’t screaming and angry at the world (although she was rightfully shocked). My heart broke when I read that radiation scene, and I hope she and no one ever has to go through it. She decided to battle on and that she would not be a victim. Her determination, courage, and her hope were all very inspirational. Although a seasoned author, Stilson didn’t use any big words or try to sound intellectual. She laid down the facts in the simplest of words so that more and more people can understand what she says and take courage. I hope we all find a "Mike" to be by our side.
Reviewed by Rabia Tanveer
for Readers' Favorite 5 Stars
Elisa, Thank you so much for sharing about your latest book...and the reason for it... I'm finishing reading the story right now, and will be providing my thoughts on her story next... Right now, I will share that, no matter what you are facing in your life, reading Elisa's story will undoubtedly provide some words that will touch you... At this time in America, I must call it as I "feel" it... It's a Must Read recommendation... More soon!
It's been a while since I've had such an overt God Incident as I began to write. First, I was planning to go in one direction, but as soon as I sat down, I heard the song, Abide With Me through the Holy Spirit. Then when I got to the YouTube site, my eyes were immediately drawn to the name of the above, second, video, Abide in God's Presence Always...
It just might mean that I...and perhaps you(?) needed to hear all of these words about God abiding in us...always... and I Give Thanks for that gentle nudge of comfort and security...
On the other hand, I was originally thinking of a man of God whose words I was reading late yesterday...
When you intervene,
you have to stand up and take the consequences.
FROM THE TIME I was little I had a picture in my head of the sort of man I wanted to become, a picture filled in by my mom and dad, by the teachings of the Catholic schools I attended, by stories I heard about our family hero, Uncle Bosie, a pilot who was shot down in World War II, and by a faith in the size of my own future. During my adolescent and college years, men and women were changing the country—Martin Luther King Jr.,
John F. Kennedy, Robert Kennedy—and I was swept up in their eloquence, their conviction, the sheer size of their improbable dreams. I knew I wanted to be a part of the change. I didn’t know how. I had no plan, but I knew. And as it turned out, surprising political opportunities opened up for me when I was a young man. When they did, I was not shy about pursuing them, because I already had a picture of what I had to do—how I had to conduct myself—to take advantage of them...
“People don’t know who or what to believe in—and, most of all, they are afraid to believe in politicians,” I told the crowd at the Hotel du Pont in Wilmington when I announced my candidacy for the Senate in 1972. We must have public officials who will stand up and tell the people exactly what they think…. Our failure in recent years has not been the failure of the people to meet the challenges placed before them, but rather the failure of both our great political parties to place those challenges honestly and courageously before the people, and to trust the willingness of the people to do the things that really need to be done…. We all know—or at least we are told continually—that we are a divided people. And we know there’s a degree of truth in it. We have too often allowed our differences to prevail among us. We have too often allowed ambitious men to play off those differences for political gain. We have too often retreated behind our differences when no one really tried to lead us beyond them.
But all our differences hardly measure up to the values we all hold in common…. I am running for the Senate because…I want to make the system work again, and I am convinced that is what all Americans really want. I believed that in 1972; I still believe it today. Our nation’s founders framed a political system of uncommon genius, and generation after generation of Americans has used that system to make the country more fair, more just, more welcoming, more committed to individual rights. The United States has the finest and fairest system of governing the world has ever known.
There is nothing inherently wrong with the system; it’s up to each of us to do our part to make it work. It’s been my privilege to serve that purpose. I’ve been a United States senator from Delaware more than half my life. And after almost thirty-five years I’m more passionate about the job and more committed to what I’m doing than I’ve been in my entire career. Any day of the week you can read or hear about the lamentable state of our nation’s politics, about our bitter and partisan party divisions, about the regrettable coarseness of the discourse. I don’t deny it, but from inside the arena none of it feels irreversible or fatal. We can always do better. I believe that, or I wouldn’t still be in politics. In fact, I sense a greater opportunity today than any time in my career. Maybe it’s because after all these years, people actually listen to me...
It felt like a sacred place when I got there, and I’ve never lost that feeling. Thirty-five years later I still get goose bumps when I come out of Union Station and see the Capitol dome. I started at the bottom, dead last in seniority, with an office so small that people on my staff had to get up and stand sideways just so somebody could open the front door. At the time I had no intention of serving more than six months. But I lasted long enough to serve, at different times, as chairman of the Judiciary and Foreign Relations committees. Things have changed in my six terms, for better and for worse. I served with the last of the southern segregationists, but I was there to see Carol Moseley Braun and Barack Obama sworn in. There was not a single woman in the Senate in 1973. Today there are sixteen, and one of them has a real shot at the presidency.
In committee rooms, conference rooms, the cloakroom, and on the floor of the Senate itself, I’ve witnessed the decline of common decency and a growing unwillingness of colleagues to try to see the world through another’s eyes. I’ve seen a rise in partisanship and the rising power of money in both campaigns and governance. But I’ve also seen a thousand small kindnesses from one side of the aisle to the other and hundreds of acts of personal and political courage. The rules and traditions of the Senate have a way of asking the best of the men and women who serve. Back in the early days of my first term, when the courts ordered President Richard Nixon to turn over the Watergate tapes, the government appeared headed toward a constitutional crisis. The president asked Senator John Stennis to run interference for him, to listen to the tapes, summarize them for his colleagues, but keep them away from the full Senate. Stennis demurred. He would not run interference for the executive branch; the tapes should be available to all.
John Stennis acted on principle to uphold the Constitution. I remember what he said in the Democratic caucus that day: “I’ve thought long and hard on what my obligation is. I’ve decided what I’m honor bound to do…and I’ve decided I am a Senate man. I am not the president’s man. Therefore, I will not listen to the tapes. I am a man of the Senate.” I’m proud to say I am a Senate man, too. The job plays to my strengths and to my deepest beliefs. I serve the citizens of Delaware, but I also serve the Constitution and the nation. George Washington called the Senate a “cooling” institution, conceived to operate outside the political expediencies of the moment. The nation’s founding documents impel United States senators to take the long view in both national and international affairs; to offer on every issue what wisdom and intelligence we bring collectively and individually; to protect the minority from destructive passions of the majority; and to keep an eye fixed on any president who reaches beyond the limits of his or her power. The Senate was designed to play this independent and moderating role, and it is a solemn duty and responsibility that transcends the partisan disputes of any day or any decade.
AS A UNITED STATES senator I’ve watched (and played some small part in) history: the Vietnam War, Watergate, the Iran hostage crisis, the Bork nomination, the fall of the Berlin wall, the reunification of Germany, the disintegration of the Soviet Union, 9/11, two wars in Iraq, a presidential impeachment, a presidential resignation, and a presidential election decided by the Supreme Court. I have been in war zones across the world and have seen genocide up close. I have sat face-to-face for hard talk with Kosygin, Khadafy, Helmut Schmidt, Sadat, Mubarak, and Milosevic. I’ve seen Nixon, Ford, Carter, Reagan, Clinton, and two Bushes wrestle with the presidency. I ran my own race for president and had to pick up the pieces after the train wreck…then nearly died from a cranial aneurysm. In the aftermath I had to remake my health, my reputation, and my career in the Senate. The years since then have been my most rewarding. I count my role in helping to end genocide in the Balkans and in securing the passage of the Violence Against Women Act as my proudest moments in public life. If I had accomplished nothing else (and if I accomplish nothing more), for me those two efforts redeem every second of difficulty and doubt in my long career.
I’ve learned plenty about myself over the years, but I believe I’ve learned even more important lessons about the American people—about their point of particular pride. Just after I won my first election to the Senate in 1972, I used to say I had great faith in the American people—and I really meant it. I wasn’t just saying it in speeches; it was pillow talk with my wife. I was so proud of the race we ran in 1972; it was honest, straightforward, and clean. I really believed I had lived up to my grandpop’s admonitions. The Biden for Senate campaign meant to preserve the integrity of politics, and I felt that we’d been vindicated for that effort. I’d talk about it with my wife, Neilia, in our big new house: “I do, Neilia. I really do. I have great faith in the American people.” Neilia was always more clear-eyed than I am. “Joey,” she said, “I wonder how you would have felt if you lost?”
Full disclosure: I do not have absolute faith in the judgment and wisdom of the American people. We’re all human, and we can all be misled. When leaders don’t level with citizens, we can’t expect them to make good judgments. But I do have absolute faith in the heart of the American people. The greatest resource in this country is the grit, the resolve, the courage, the basic decency, and the stubborn pride of its citizens. I know thousands of ordinary Americans, faced with burdens that would break many of us, who get up every single day and put one foot in front of the other and make it work. Most do it without demanding special favors or pity, even while the more fortunate among us stand willing to help ease those burdens. I’m convinced of the generosity, determination, and capabilities of our fellow Americans. I’ve seen it over and over, but it came home to me dramatically in the hours after the attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon on September 11, 2001. The planes hit while I was on the train from Wilmington to Washington, and when I came out of Union Station that morning, I could see a haze of smoke rising from the Pentagon across the Potomac.
It was a morning of surreal stillness. There was almost no breeze. It was so quiet, I could hear myself breathe as I walked toward the Capitol dome. I was struck by the warm glow of sun on my face and the sharpness of the cobalt blue sky, which was strangely unmarred by air traffic. But beneath the calm there was a gathering feeling of panic on the ground in Washington.
The Capitol building had already been evacuated. Senators, House members, and their staffs were milling around the park between the Capitol and Union Station. Some were talking on cell phones. Some were already arguing about the need for funding Reagan’s Star Wars missile defense system. The Capitol police refused to let anybody back into the building, but they were offering briefings for a select group of elected officials at a command post on the top floor of a four-story building behind the Senate offices. Most members were camping out on the floor below. So I was shuttling back and forth between floors, trying to persuade anyone who would listen that we should get back in session and show the American people we were taking care of business. Nobody would budge; leaders in both parties were being told they should be prepared to leave town. Congressman Bob Brady, who had also been pushing our colleagues to get back in session, finally gave up in disgust. He thought he might be able to do some good back in his home district in Philadelphia, and he offered to drop me in Wilmington on the way. On the way out, Brady and I could sense the panic rising as we walked through scores of reporters outside the building; they were understandably anxious to get some word of what was happening.
“Senator Biden,” a reporter from ABC said to me, “senators I’ve spoken to and members of Congress as well have said we are now at war. Senator Shelby, who is the ranking member on the intelligence committee, has said we are now essentially at war. We have to be on a war footing. And Senator Chuck Hagel says we have to start securing our borders, locking down our airports, revisiting the way we protect our public institutions. What about that?”
“I hope that’s not true,” I told her and her listening audience. I would say it another way. I would say we’ve come face-to-face with a reality. A reality we knew existed and we knew was possible. A reality that has happened to varying degrees in other countries. But if in fact, in order to respond to that reality, we have to alter our civil liberties, change the way we function, then we have truly lost the war…. The way to conduct the war is to demonstrate that your civil liberties, your civil rights, your ability to be free and walk and move around in fact are not fundamentally altered…. There are a lot of things we can do though to diminish significantly the possibility of this happening again without changing our character as a nation…. This nation is too big, too strong, too united, too much a power in terms of our cohesion and our values to let this break us apart. And it won’t happen. It won’t happen.
By then the Senate and House leadership had been convinced to board helicopters for a flight to a secure location in West Virginia. The vice president had been spirited away to an undisclosed hideaway. The president was flying from safe spot to safe spot on Air Force One; he’d been convinced it was too dangerous to come back to D.C. The Twin Towers had collapsed by the time we got on the road toward Wilmington, and the death estimates in New York were five, six, seven thousand—maybe more.
But when I got home and put on the television, I saw that the American heart was still beating strong. Doctors and nurses were standing by at hospitals in New York City, ready to treat the wounded. Snaking through the streets and up the avenues were long lines of New Yorkers waiting to give their blood, even though word was being passed that no more blood was needed. I could see it in their faces: They were hungry to do something, anything. Nobody was talking about war footings or payback. They just wanted to do their part. That was the day that reminded me that even in a moment of almost total silence from their leaders in Washington, Americans would rise to the occasion. Watching those people on the blood lines, I was convinced the country would get up off the mat, face the new challenge head-on, and emerge stronger for having done it.
To me this is the first principle of life, the foundational principle, and a lesson you can’t learn at the feet of any wise man: Get up! The art of living is simply getting up after you’ve been knocked down. It’s a lesson taught by example and learned in the doing...
As I opened the ebook of Promises to Keep, I realized that, once again, I was being led to go to this book when I needed to read words of encouragement about things happening in America these days...
Yesterday, listening to another hearing describing the January 6 Insurrection, was illuminating... I heard and saw the actions of those who were intent on using and spreading lies in order to gain or retain power--the power of a political position which could be used to help America...or to gain personal power. It was obvious as we learned about the "unhinged" meeting that we have two distinct groups of people in relation to all that is detrimentally happening now... Those that will do anything or say anything in order to gain personal prestige and recognition from an individual in power... And those who actually believed in that individual in power.
It's the latter group that was truly heartbreaking to listen to and consider...
I watched as two men spoke about their involvement. The first was a past member of a known militia group who participated in the Insurrection. He spoke about the leader working to increase his own exposure and power...
The second man spoke of his believing the president as he lied about election fraud, stating that he went to the Capitol because his president told him to, but once he got there he began to question what was going on...and finally left when the then president told them to leave. He told of being charged, losing his job and how his life had been turned upside down. I couldn't help but notice how his wife would often lift her lip as in derision or contempt... Perhaps she felt that the committee--or somebody--should have stopped Trump from his actions, before it was too late...? We may never know just how many lives have been affected detrimentally by the former president...
And, for many, things are still occurring that are initiated by the far-right republican party members... They have seen how "easy" it is to dupe some Americans and so they keep on trying to lie and steal our lives in one way or another...That is the real theft happening daily!
For me, for instance, it is hard to get excited about the supposed changes related to guns...while, at the same time, it was being negotiated, there were more children and adults murdered by assault guns in particular. It is hard to get excited about some small measure of change, while at the same time, the very real danger is still happening daily! Both related to guns and personal women's health and other types of freedoms once gained but now being targeted!
11-year-old rape victim couldn't have abortion under new Ohio law
It's hard, I know, trying to watch, look, and listen...striving to determine the facts, the truth... But, like Joe Biden said at one time, Get up! Allow yourself to doubt, to face the idea that you can be wrong...and it's alright to be wrong...as long as you then look for the truth... Let's work on that idea...together! O.K.?
Two hours later, we were seated at Blue Pacific with a view overlooking the ocean and an open bottle of wine. A jazz quartet played Coltrane, the lighting low and romantic, and there I sat with a homicide detective. What a way to spend my first date in ages! If I hadn’t been exhausted and freaked out, I might have been able at least to get into the film noir ambiance of the whole thing. “Cheers!” I said, holding up my glass. Jack gave it a clink with his. “What are we toasting?” “That this beastly day is over, and I’m not in jail.” “I’ll drink to that!” He took a sip and let out a little sigh of appreciation. “What a terrific wine. I can’t imagine a better way to end a day like this one. It’s a lovely view from where I’m sitting.” I could tell he was talking about more than the ocean. “Thank you. I’m glad you insisted we have dinner, despite the delay back at my office.” Evidence guys had come and picked up my coat and the phone. They had gone through my things, looking for other evidence linking me to the murder. There was no sign anyone had jimmied the lock on the door, so whoever left that phone either had a key or slipped in while it was already open. “Delay or no delay, we have to eat, even in the middle of a big case like this one.” “You may be used to dealing with murder and mayhem. I’m not. Well, mayhem maybe, but not murder. After the first hour or so with those CSI guys, I was ready to call it a night. I’m still not feeling great about the fact that someone at the Cat Factory has made another attempt to get me to take the fall for murder.”
From Book 1, somehow Georgie Shaw always seems to become a "person of interest" in all that is happening! In the first book, Murder at Catmmando Mountain, Max's daughter is murdered! And, with one of Georgie's scarves left at the scene of the crime, it started the blame game discussion. Of course, the first thing that anybody commented on was that Max had put his daughter into the lead position of the Food and Beverage Division, instead of Georgie, soon led to disagreements and a welcome relocation for Georgie into the PR department where she was now working. But who knew what else was going to happen to try to convince everybody that Georgie had finally taken the last step to get rid of her "competition..." But, of course, that first sight of Georgie, by Jack Wheeler, the homicide detective, hadn't been a part of the plan to ensure Georgie's demise...
In the second book, Love Notes in the Key of Sea, the crisis caused by murder was quickly solved, and led to a much more poignant story when, Georgie begins to have flashbacks about when she was attacked, along with her first love, who had never been seen thereafter. Having Georgie back in her hometown area, but this time with her now constant companion, Jack, brought a new pair of eyes--in order to solve the cold case!
The third book, All Hallows' Eve Heist, Max is on to his next idea of building a new community, New Arcadia! But while that planning begins, it's time for a major event, when everybody will be costumed as their favorite World of Marley character... when shots were heard in the tunnels!
Max made it very clear he doesn’t want more dead bodies. When the boss speaks, I listen.”
That Mission Impossible theme song was in my head again, mingling with snatches of Catmmando Tom’s stirring anthem. “Body armor won’t help if they aim for his head,” Jack whispered under his breath...
By the fourth book, A Merry Christmas Wedding Mystery, in less than a year, we find that Georgie and
Jack, both in their later years, suddenly realizing that waiting was just not the best choice for them...and a wedding was soon planned! Which would have run perfectly if Max hadn't got into the picture! And seeing her in a beautiful hooped gown! Georgie cried NOT! And then it gets really complicated as the new story, "The Lonely Swan Prince," begins rehearsals and, of course, a murder takes place, with Georgie and Jack working to solve the whodunit!
“Do you want to come have lunch with me? You might get to see me and Max go at it.” I did the fisticuffs thing I had done earlier. “I promised my main squeeze not to shake my fists in the man’s face, but I’m going to have to get rough if he doesn’t listen to what you have to say.”
“That does sound tempting, but lunch is on its way. I’d love to see someone smack Max Marley around. I’m on a strict diet so I can continue to fit into that dress after finally getting Imogene to change it. She might kill me if I ask her to alter it again.” “I doubt that, but there’s no need to test your theory.” Just then I noticed a photo of a large cat. “That looks like Marmalade!”
“Yeah, my favorite cat of all time. Ginger always brings me luck.” “Why were you upset about having them on set?” “I love cats, but I’m allergic. Mara was supposed to tell me when they’d be around so I could take my meds ahead of time. Not even the Production Assistants take me seriously!” “It’s none of my business, but is that why you let the cats out of their cages?” “What? I wouldn’t do that! Cats aren’t good with change or being in strange places. It must be hard enough for the poor things to be in a noisy, unfamiliar setting.” “You are so right about that. It was a week before my new baby girl made herself at home, see?” I pulled my phone from the pocket of the jacket I wore. I showed her several pictures of my little, blue-eyed Siamese, Ella. Jack had given me the sweet little kitten as a gift when he proposed. “Aw, she’s adorable. Who’s that?” She pointed to the big handsome Siamese seated next to Ella in those photos. “Miles, her new best friend,” I replied.
“Ella and Miles, huh? You’re a jazz fan, aren’t you?” “Yes! Ella Fitzgerald and Miles Davis are only two of my favorites.” Her eyes sparkled as we chatted for a few minutes about cats and jazz. I had inadvertently stumbled upon two subjects dear to her heart, apparently. I might have been in that dressing room longer if our conversation hadn’t been interrupted by a phone call. “I’ll let you take that,” I said. “Nice talking to you, Brigit.” To my surprise, she stepped forward and clasped me in a hug, the little topknot on her head tickling my face as I hugged her back. When her phone rang again, she let go. I reached behind me, feeling for the door handle, pausing to catch her eye with a goodbye wave.
On the other hand, Max did give them a wonderful wedding gift...at sea... after they solved the "man overboard" murder...in the final book, Murder at Sea of Passenger X, in this book collection of 1 through 5!
...Candles sparkled. A choir sang Christmas carols as the guests assembled. I glided down the aisle to my favorite carol—Lo, How a Rose E’er Blooming. In another remarkable tribute to kismet, that Christmas hymn was sung by Brigit. Her voice filled the space in a sweet incantation of love captured by an unknown composer who had penned the melody and lyrics long before any of us existed. I held back tears of joy as I took my place at the altar having counted the miracles in my life along the way...
After dinner, toasts, and more dancing, I leaned against Jack. He held me tight, making my heart pound as we barely moved on the dance floor.
“Are you happy, Georgie Shaw?”
“Happier than I’ve ever been, Jack Wheeler.”
“I can’t believe I’m going to have you all to myself out in the middle of the Pacific Ocean for ten days. What a romantic adventure to cruise the South Sea Islands on another of Max’s extraordinary creations. You cannot possibly get away from me on a cruise ship.”
“I don’t plan to go anywhere ever again, my love. We don’t even have to leave our cabin if you don’t want to.” Jack’s grip tightened.
“Promise?” he whispered in my ear. “Promise. We won’t have much room to wander once we get to Maui, either. It’s a small island. Another ten days of wedded bliss without the call of duty shouting at either of us. It’s almost impossible to believe, isn’t it?”
“Nothing’s impossible with you in my life.” Jack kissed me, and a cheer went up from the crowd. I thought the hoots and hollers were about that kiss until I heard a familiar bellow. The crowd parted around us. Into that circle walked the red-headed cat wrangler from Max’s studio. He wore a tux, sparkly running shoes, and held two leashes. At the end of each was a Siamese cat. Miles and Ella had joined the party in little wedding outfits of their own. They strained at those leashes, rushing to greet us with more bellows and chatter. The room burst into applause and laughter, as Jack and I scooped up our adorable furry companions.
“What a wonderful surprise,” I said. “Thank you so much.” I stepped forward and placed a kiss on that young man’s cheek. He blushed deeply, his face turning almost as red as the hair on the top of his head. “Er, uh, it was Mara’s idea. Max thought it was a good one. I’m pretty sure Max has another surprise for you.” “Thanks, Red,” Max said as he stepped into that circle. “Red,” if that was indeed his name, scooted back into the crowd and stood next to Mara. She gave me a small wave. “This will be quick, Georgie. Imogene tells me I sometimes enjoy the sound of my own voice too much.”
“Sometimes?” the petite Imogene asked. Laughter spread around us. “Now you know why she’s one of my most trusted friends. Her wit is as sharp as those scissors she wields. Georgie and Jack, no one deserves to live happily ever after any more than you two. This gesture is a small one, but you know how much we value cats at the Cat Factory. I want you to take your feline friends with you on your travels. The MMW Fantasy of the Sea has issued tickets for Miles Shaw and Ella Wheeler to accompany you. Bon voyage, Ella and Miles.” Shouts and applause filled the room. Miles boomed, and that drew another burst of applause.
I pulled Max close and thanked him. Jack was apparently moved by Mad Max’s lovely gesture and wrapped his arms around him. What a beautiful moment in a perfect evening. We heard later that the spirited celebration continued well into the night. Jack and I stole away in a limo that took us to a hotel where we would spend the night before leaving on our honeymoon trip. When we arrived at that hotel, as a couple, with our cats, I felt as though our fairytale had only just begun. Our happily ever after would last a lifetime and beyond...
“Argh! Cruella—it’s Cruella!” Those shrill cries came from a large, white, fluffy Purrsilla, Catmmando Tom’s lady friend in his cartoon adventures. She rushed toward me in a blind panic. The plush tail that towered above her head was pinned to her body, making it easier to maneuver through the crowd quickly. That’s a no-no for anyone playing the role since the luxurious tail is Purrsilla’s most attractive feature. Apart from the gorgeous green, heavily-lashed cat eyes, anyway. Under normal circumstances, a park ranger would have taken her aside. Today everyone was distracted. Including me, given the shocking claim Purrsilla was making as she skittered my way.
I snagged her before she could run headlong into a throng of guests. “Whoa, Purrsilla, slow down!” I didn’t exactly grab her by the scruff of her neck, but close. It took some doing to hang on to her. I’m strong, thanks to regular workouts. She was terrified, and her first inclination was to swat at me with a big paw—also a no-no in the associate handbook for those charged with bringing Marvelous Marley World’s beloved character to life. “Stop, Purrsilla. Take a deep breath, and, please, lower your voice.”
She let go of her tail which almost whopped me in the face as it sprang back into place. Then she buried her big cat head into her oversized paws. I tried patting her on the back, hoping to calm her. “She’s okay, folks. Sorry for the trouble.” That dispersed the crowd that had gathered. Still hanging onto her, I walked Purrsilla toward the doors that led backstage. Doug and that man in the brown suit were eying me. I waved off Doug. “Purrsilla’s just fine,” I called out loud enough for Doug and anyone else still standing around to hear. Doug waved in return. “Who’s inside there?” I whispered. Calling her Purrsilla wasn’t going to cut it if I wanted to reach the human having a meltdown. I hit a spot on the wall, and those hidden doors opened. Once we were underground, Purrsilla removed the top of her costume. “I’m so...” she hiccupped, “sorry. It was horrible. I lost it. Cruella’s dead!”
The young woman who still had not told me her name reached out and grabbed me with those paws and sobbed on my shoulder. “Are you talking about Mallory Marley-Marston?” I felt a shimmy of fear run down my spine. Someone we know, Doug had said. “Yes. We called her Cruella de Vil. I know we shouldn’t have done that, but it fit. She was a mean person—always giving my friends who work in Snappy Treats a hard time. Nothing was ever good enough for that hag! They just hated her, and so did I,” she gasped. “Oh no! I don’t mean we hated her enough to do that to her—kill her! Who could do that to anyone?” “It’s going to be all right. Uh, I’m sorry, I still don’t know your name.” “Debbie. Debbie Dinsmore.” “Don’t worry, Debbie.”
I looked around to make sure we were alone, lowered my voice to a conspiratorial level. “A lot of us called her Cruella.” Or worse, I thought. Debbie let out a huge sigh of relief. “I’m sorry you had to see her... had to see anyone in that condition. You need to put your feet up in the break room. Calm your nerves and then go home.” “But my shift’s not over for hours. I just came on duty...” Another round of sobbing cut off her words. “No problem. We’re going to shut down much of this area for a while. I’ll fix it with your supervisor, Megan Donnelly, okay?” Debbie nodded in agreement. “Does she know how to reach you later?” “Yes,” Debbie said with a puzzled look on her face. “Good! I’m going to have her call you with a referral for someone to speak to about what you witnessed today.” Her puzzled expression morphed into wariness. “Trust me. It’ll help—I went through something like this myself—years ago. I should have talked to someone right away. The company will pay for it, and we’ll cover a few days paid leave if you want to take it.” She didn’t respond one way or the other.
What had she seen? I uttered a silent prayer that whoever had leaked information about what was going on also hadn’t taken pictures. “I’m calling Megan right now. You have to promise me you’ll calm down and that you’ll see the person Megan finds for you, please?” “Sure. I do need to take the day off. Talking to somebody couldn’t hurt.” She rubbed tears from her face with a paw—no-no number three, but who was counting on a day like today? Megan picked up my call on the first ring. I filled her in on the situation. Not that I knew much myself. I must have conveyed the seriousness of the matter because Megan sprang into action and insisted that Debbie stay with me.
Miles!
Ella!
“Jack, there’s been a murder!” Jack and I had been sitting on my patio, taking in the view of the Pacific Ocean when my phone rang. Summer was well on its way, here, on the Southern California Coast in June. Still, a chill hung in the air as the sun sank toward the horizon. The chill I felt wasn’t entirely due to the weather. Before I could say more, Jack jumped to his feet and pulled his phone out of the pocket of his jeans. “I don’t see a message. Why would someone from the department call me on your landline?”
“They didn’t. The murder’s not here. It’s on a beach somewhere in North Carolina near where Jennifer Dodson’s daughter has been going to school. Someone attacked Meredith on the beach.” “No! Are you saying someone murdered Jennifer’s kid?”
“No, Meredith’s not dead, but a man stabbed her, and she’s recovering in the hospital. Jennifer flew out there a couple of days ago. She didn’t call me until she was sure Meredith was going to be alright. There have been a series of attacks at the beach—all women. Meredith was fortunate, apparently, since she lived through the assault. Another woman attacked in a separate incident died. The next night a third attack occurred. Kat Benson, a graduate student in art history at UNC Chapel Hill, attends the same school where Meredith’s enrolled. She’s not dead, but not doing well.”
“Did Meredith know both other women?” I could tell I had triggered Jack’s detective side and had set his inquisitive mind in motion. “Kat yes, but not the woman murdered on the first night—Jenna somebody—I don’t remember her last name. Kat was a graduate assistant for an undergrad art history course Meredith took. I guess they hit it off and became friends. Meredith was distraught when the police questioned her and grew even more upset when told someone had attacked her friend, too. Meredith’s scared.”
“Who could blame her? It’s hard to feel safe when something horrific like that happens.” “The police have the attacker, but Jennifer’s not convinced it’s safe for Meredith, either, so she plans to bring her home as soon as she can. I hate to change our plans for the weekend, Jack, but I’m going to visit Jennifer and Meredith when they get home. Jennifer seems to think it would be good for me to be there because…” It’s as though something suddenly swallowed me up and I couldn’t finish that sentence. “Because you went through something similar at Meredith’s age. What exactly, I don’t know, do I? Every time the subject comes up, you slip away, then go silent. It’s like a ghost story. Only the ghost is the part of you that steals away to Corsario Cove whenever something sets off your memories of that event. You’re otherwise one of the smartest, most with-it women I’ve ever met, and yet you carry this secret around with you like Marley’s chain. Not your boss Marley, but that ghost in the Dickens Christmas story. I… I’m going to shut up. We’ve been through this before, and I don’t want to make you feel worse since you’re obviously upset. When you’re ready to talk, I’m here.”
“I want to tell you what happened. I should have done it already. It’s just...” Jack took a step forward and pulled me into his arms. “You’re trembling. Maybe I should go with you this weekend. I like your friend Jennifer. She’s been on my side when it comes to getting you to take me—us—seriously.” How would it feel to show up in Corsario Cove with a new man? I mused, considering his offer. I had grown up there. In San Albinus, actually, a small town not far from Corsario Cove on California’s Central Coast. Before I was twenty, I had gone off to college, not far away, at UC Santa Cruz. That’s where I met the love of my life. Corsario Cove is where I lost him. I had already told Jack that much. I settled into his arms. “Jennifer’s an incurable romantic. She fancies herself to be quite a matchmaker, too. A skill she claims she’s honed matching clients to their dream vacations if you can believe that! As far as she’s concerned, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” Could be, she’s right, I thought. I liked the feeling of his arms around me. He smelled terrific, too—clean and fresh like the outdoors. No discernible scent of anything artificial, like soap or cologne. Honest and direct, like the man. I leaned into him as the chill fled, replaced by the now familiar sensation I often experienced around Jack. Snap, crackle, pop—a series of enticing feelings that were hard to describe.
“Jennifer is right. I’m your man.” Jack tilted my head up and kissed me. Those sensations reached all the way down to the tips of my toes as I returned that kiss. “I’ll call Jennifer and tell her we’ll both be there for the weekend. She can get us a great deal on rooms at The Sanctuary Resort and Spa. It’s on me, though. I’m sure you didn’t have a weekend getaway figured into your budget.” Homicide detectives don't make much money. Jack’s not the kind of guy who throws money around. Still, the OC, as we refer to Orange County, is not a very affordable place to live. That’s true even in Irvine, away from the chichi Newport Coast where I live. Jack owns a comfy townhouse or will one day when he finishes paying the mortgage. He’s trying to save for retirement, and he has a daughter in college who needs his help. Not that he’s legally obligated to pay child support any longer. “An obligation of the heart, not the divorce decree,” he had said one evening when we were talking about his relationship with his daughter Beth. Jack does okay, but he doesn’t have much left over at the end of the month. So far, we had worked around the difference in our expendable incomes. It wasn’t always easy. Jack isn’t what I’d call macho, but he does have a fierce, independent streak that resists my efforts to subsidize our fun. “I don’t want to tangle with you about money.
I can’t always keep up with what you can afford on the megabucks you get working for the Cat, but I don’t mind paying my fair share. I would like to see where you grew up. In a way, you’re doing me a favor so I’m happy to share the costs.” He let me go, but I stayed close as we talked. Close enough to see the sparks that danced in his dark eyes when he was adamant. I had made up my mind, though, and picked up my argument that I was paying for our trip. “Trust me, The Sanctuary Resort and Spa is outrageous, even at a discount. Let me spend some of that bonus you helped me get by keeping me alive so I could advance my career at the Cat Factory.” That I was now dating a homicide detective had not come about under the most pleasant circumstances. After three months, the hubbub about a Murder at Catmmando Mountain had finally subsided. Finding a high-ranking Marvelous Marley World executive viciously killed in the Arcadia theme park on Valentine’s Day had created a stir. Especially scintillating news when it turned out that the victim was the founder’s daughter. Max Marley had not only built the Arcadia theme park—several theme parks, in fact—but much more. That includes resorts, movies, animated features and shorts, characters and other Marvelous Marley World products. The brilliant, but eccentric man, presides over a multi-billion-dollar entertainment empire. It’s all rooted in the success of a cartoon cat—Catmmando Tom. That’s the reason for our frequent references to working for the Cat at the Cat Factory. The shakeup in Max Marley’s world in the wake of his daughter’s death had been both personal and professional. Max Marley had gone into seclusion and remained there. That action spilled over to the professional side, leaving a gap in leadership at the top where Max had held the reins for nearly four decades as founder of Marvelous Marley World. We did the best we could to move forward in his absence...
“Voila. Time to eat.” As I turned to pull our scallops from the oven, I caught Miles eying Jack. His gaze was fixed on the detective, concentrating as he delivered his best cat version of the Vulcan mind probe. Miles had a single aim in mind, getting the human to carry out his prime directive. FEED THE CAT. It worked. Jack hopped off the bar stool and hollered the magic word. “Treats.” Miles dove off his seat and stood alert, his tail high as a kite as Jack dished up a tablespoon of tuna. It always amazes me how much enjoyment Miles derives from such a small thing. A lesson to his human companions. One of many our furry feline friends teach us—like gratitude for a job well done. Miles stopped, looked up, and blinked at us with what’s darn close to a wink, accompanied by a throaty hurrah. In minutes, we were all settled into the dining room. Jack and I devoured our dinners as Miles lounged near the wall of windows that gave him a view of the veranda. Despite my chef’s training, cooking dinner for others makes me anxious. It had been years since I prepared food in a kitchen at Marvelous Marley World, where I started straight out of culinary school as a chef. To be honest, these days I hardly cook at all. Fresh fruit with yogurt is dinner most nights. Occasionally, I hold a dinner party. That always gives me the jitters, too. I sighed as I finished my food. “The house has outdone itself, tonight. May I tip the chef with a kiss?” Jack asked. I leaned in to collect my gratuity and felt a wave of relief. Not to mention the tantalizing dance of sensations that goes along with one of those kisses.
“Ready for dessert?” “Am I ever. Bring on the mousse.” “Chocolate mousse. You know I have to get my fix.” I admit it. I’m a chocoholic. Jack stood up to help me remove the dirty dishes. As we headed to the kitchen, Miles jumped to his feet and unleashed an earsplitting yowl. “What on earth, Miles? You don’t get dessert; why are you yelling at me?” I looked at Jack. “Have you been slipping him extra treats after dinner?” “Moi? Non. Not after dinner. What is it, Miles?”
I tried to hide my smile realizing that Jack had advanced to the next level of cat ownership. By that, I mean being owned by a cat, the point at which you talk to the cat like it's a person. If Miles intended to respond, he had no chance to do so because my phone pinged to indicate someone sent me a message. Next, Jack’s phone began to ring. We both dashed into the kitchen and grabbed our phones. I froze as I read the message on my phone. ACTIVE SHOOTER. MARVELOUS MARLEY WORLD HEADQUARTERS...
I've escaped into Catmmando Mountain and the Marvelous Marley World for the last several days...and thoroughly enjoying spending time with Miles, a Siamese who was named after Miles Davis...and, later, Ella, who was named after Ella Fitzgerald! These two lovelies have combined into one family after a series of murders brought together Georgie Shaw and Jack Wheeler, a Homicide Detective with the local police department.
Jack quickly made his interest known during the first investigation, while Georgie was noticing him as well, but not so overtly! Georgia is not the traditional "amateur detective" for a cozy series. She is quite adverse to getting involved with the details of murder, staying away from the blood or other things that might get on her clothes (LOL), while relishing the time spent with Jack as each of the murder mysteries are solved... By Book 3, they were a couple and Jack brought Ella into the family, proving just how much he was willing and able to move toward a permanent family arrangement.
Max Marley is the creative genius who has grown richer than rich while working to create theme parks, a music world and so much more. He is known for being eccentric and sometimes going into temper tantrums when he doesn't get his way. Georgie is one of the few people who can think fast enough to quietly discuss options for his consideration during any turmoil. She has been with Marley's for many years and is now in senior management, but had, originally, been a chef in the kitchens--readers who enjoy cooking will be excited to learn that each book contains the recipes and secret tips from Georgie that were served in the various venues happening... Me, I flip through those pages since any chance of my becoming more interested in cooking than in reading, at my age, is about 10M to 1! LOL
Although Miles does not personally become involved with the investigations, it is clear that, through whatever cat magic he may have, he is able to immediately prepare Georgie that a cat-astrophe is on its way in which Georgie was to be pulled into the fray... And speaking of cat-astrophes, these books are full of fun puns regarding the word "cat" or other feline references... A nice break from the sometimes tense actions related to solving the first murder...which sometimes becomes dangerous for those conducting the investigation.
There is sufficient narrative to hook readers into each book's mystery, and sometimes even catches Georgie by surprise. Consider the parallel to the Disney World Enterprise and you can realize just how big--and how many ways, mischief and criminal acts can be conceived and put into action. I gave up trying to work through the mystery in each book, and just spent my time enjoying the characters, including Max and Ella, as well as learning about the various make-believe stars in Marley's World--The Furry Caped Avenger, Catmmando Tom, may be a superhero, but he's also a competitor with Mickey Mouse for who is the biggest and favorite with children who visited each theme park! Me, of course, the "Tom-Cat" is my choice!
This is the first three of a 9-book series, so far... So look for the next three coming! You've just got to start reading cat cozy mysteries, don't you think?!!!
I am constantly amazed at how much, seemingly, Americans are such fickle people. We all went out to vote Joe Biden into office, yet we always want what is especially a problem for us, rather than what is good for the nation. So some blame the president! Duh!
The fact is this man is...just a man...and he's doing more for our country in the few months he has been in office, than all that was done in the years under a man who actually harmed America...
What he cannot do is greatly ignored...yet is so important to how we move forward in a divided nation, like never before. If you see what has happened across the world, you will see the impact of a US president who has done much to bring the country back into a leading country who has done much to override what had been done by the last administration... We are back in NATO, working with the Ukraine as another authoritarian ego-driven madman kills for no reason other than to gain more power...
The Infrastructure plan has gone into effect and is moving ahead as quickly as possible. Covid, if not gone, has reached a point where there is a plan of action for just about any event. Given that the last administration had done nothing to actually relocate the medicine from the manufactured status across the nation, it moved forward quickly under our president. During that time the government provided actual income to Americans across the nation to ensure they could keep a roof over their heads and food on the table... I could go on with the gifts, accomplishments...but you all know all that has happened, or you should, if you are being an active citizen in these days of continuing chaos!
Key to all is just one thing... Instead of working together to meet the needs of America, the Republican Party has done little except to move against us! The Build Back Better program that was planned was stopped... We wanted that program! We voted to have that program! Yet, the damage had already been done... There was no way that republicans were going to work for the good of America--Vested interests has become the norm for many supposed representatives in Congress...and, yes, even in the Supreme Court!
Except for a few republicans who have risen above the gutter world of the criminal, fascist, and authoritarian Donald Trump. During the January 6th Hearings, one important fact came out recently... Trump not only knew about the plan before the 6th...but he made sure that the crowd got in with all the weapons they were carrying! He commented that they weren't bringing them against him! Later he even commented that perhaps the crowd was right, that Pence should be hung as they cried out, looking for the vice-president that day...
At the same time, due primarily upon the actions of those of the republican party who have become extreme in ALL Things, no matter who is hurt or compromised by those actions... We all know that evangelical christians made a deal with Trump to get what they wanted...a supreme court that was especially picked to ensure a biased rather than a legal, blind review of issues affecting all Americans. I as a Christian, find it hard to understand how we have reached a point in America - the supposed land of the free - freedom of religion, among them and including freedom of speech and to have total access to unalienable rights, to find that there are those who are fighting to take them away!
In the Declaration of Independence, America's founders defined unalienable rights as including “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.” These rights are considered “inherent in all persons and roughly what we mean today when we say human rights...”
And in Turn, we opened America to all those seeking those rights!
Many came to America seeking not only shelter, but, most importantly, the freedom to worship as they were led... Now, for whatever reason, some fanatical republicans think that our country should be a Christian nation, by rights... rights that were not given to us in our Constitution, but rights that some seem to think they know what God wants for this country... It's funny, God had plenty of time, don't you think, to make this a Christian country if He thought it should be. Instead, He told us to love our neighbors, treat them as we would want to be treated...and, then, speak to them of my son Jesus as you are called to do... Not once that I can remember, has Jesus condoned violence, yet that is what Trump called for on day of Insurrection when he wanted anybody who would fight...to overthrow our government in order for him to remain with the power of the leader of our country... a man who did nothing except take, take, take...as it is now being discovered...even more than we ever imagined!
I know many of us are looking to figure out how to pay our bills, to feed our children...to pay for the gas that we need to travel to work... President Biden has told us over and over, he is doing as much as he can within the limits placed in His Office! I believe him. Because I've seen somebody like Manchin speak to gain power, even though many in his state do not agree with what he is doing... This is true for most of the republican leaders who refuse to change their minds on anything, including to ban the guns that are being used to murder our children and families!
How can we do anything to take America back from these men who do anything they need to do to capture more and more power for no other reason than to build their own egos...and forget about all that suffer from their actions. Just one thing was taken away recently...Roe Vs. Wade, a ruling made about 50 years ago and by which we have been living for years... But it is not just that one act, it is all those actions that are already happening...banning books, don't say gay... They are playing with the lives of millions of people who have fought to gain the rights that most of us have had for our entire lives... Do you really think God wants all these things done through violence? And if you believe God created each of us...how can you then claim that all gays should...just...not...be...? There is something really wrong with America these days! We all see it...And, if there is only one way to get rid of the violence, the hate, the prejudice that is dividing our nation, then we must act now...we must vote all those people who stop or refuse to pass meaningful legislation to support the needs of America...
I believe you voted for the right president...Now, I ask that you don't dismiss him just because the republican party are fighting "dirty" in allllllll ways to get him out of office... You know what he tried to do...The Build Back Better covered education, child-care and more! He and others are daily working to figure out how to "complete" something within the laws of the land...to help us!
It is stopped purely by those who care nothing about YOU or ME...They care about their own egos, their own power...their own greed! Don't let these people corrupt you with suggestions that President Biden is at fault for anything...He is NOT...Stop and think...Who voted to give corporations such as gas companies that care more about profits than that you need gas to get to work and/or gas to carry products to stores, and rich people more income under Trump? Republicans! Who voted against banning guns--republicans! Who voted against women's rights to medical health choices--republicans! Who voted to ban books, ignore gays and their rights--republicans! Vote republican if you must, but make sure they DON'T speak against rights that you need to live! Vote fanatics OUT! If they do not speak of common sense, or a desire to work together to improve America, then vote them out! Listen, Learn, You have the rights given to you by the Constitution...Fight for what is being taken away from you...DAILY!
Letus fight for our freedom...NOT WITH Violence...Not With Hate, Prejudice, or Lies, but with Truth--the Truth of God, not with guns but with Words...with Our Votes... Speak of Love of our Neighbors, our fellow Americans...not derisively but with friendship, with openness and welcome... This is America! Not Russia who does what the leader wants without regard to all the hate, murder that is used against the Ukrainians and to America through the known voting interference and more...
Love thy neighbor as thyself
A version of the Golden Rule: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. First found in theOld Testament.Jesustells theparableof theGood Samaritanto illustrate this commandment.
Let Us Fight for America - For Liberty - for ALL
NOT JUST FOR SOME!!!
SPEAK OUT FOR FREEDOM FOR ALL
WHICH AMERICA IS YOURS?
WHERE ALL ARE EQUAL WITH INALIENABLE RIGHTS
WITH LIBERTY AND JUSTICE FOR ALL?
you must choose, even if it is against all others, except...Truth!
