Dare To Risk All Releases in One Month!

I’ve had the cover of Dare To Risk All for quite a while and was waiting for my release date before revealing it. Well, I’ve had my release date for a few weeks now, and somehow, with my preoccupation with my vacation photos and getting my current project ready to submit, I’ve overlooked Dare To Risk All’s cover reveal. So here it is:  I absolutely love it. The cover artist at The Wild Rose Press did a great job incorporating the elements I wanted included. And the tone of the cover suits the storyline. Besides that, it’s cute! 

Unlike my previous two books, which included some family drama as part of the romance, Dare To Risk All is strictly romance. It has no subplots and fewer secondary characters. Now, that’s not saying I don’t torture my characters just a bit. Of course I do. I love my wounded heroes, and poor Ben carries a lot of baggage. Sweet Tessa has a few extra bags to lug around too. It’s a challenge for either of them to open up and fall in love. Do they dare risk it?

Blurb: Tessa Caldwell’s carefully structured world is thrown into chaos when the handsome stranger she had an uncharacteristic fling with reappears in her life. Ben not only gets the promotion she thought was hers, but is also intent on resuming their physical relationship. Although Tessa’s rational mind insists on a professional association, both her heart and her traitorous body have other ideas. Can her sensible nature possibly win against such temptation?

Memories of the petite blonde with large, blue eyes have haunted Ben Dunham for months. When he transfers to her branch, he anticipates picking up where they left off. Reality doesn’t match memory when the cool and collected lady wants no part of him. If he intends to pursue Tessa, he has to earn her trust. The problem is, Ben carries a dark and dangerous secret. How does he get Tessa to trust him when he can’t trust himself?

Dare To Risk All will be available in both e-book and paperback format on March 11th. (One month!!) Pre-order is now available on Amazon.com. Click here. As soon as other buy links come available, I’ll list them here on my blog as well as on my Facebook page. https://www.facebook.com/Joyce.M.Holmes

Definitely Not a Hip Young Urbanite

I think my title explains my problem. I’m not quite old yet, but I admit to being rather old-fashioned. (I mean, does anyone even say ‘hip’ anymore?) My main character in my current wip (work in progress) made several appearances in Show No Weakness and I thought I knew her really well. I was wrong. Maggie is twenty-seven years old. She’s single, has a career, grew up in the city and is modern in every way. Totally the opposite of me. Why do I do this to myself?
How can I channel my inner girlie-girl when I’m pretty sure I was born missing that gene? I might be female, but no one can accuse me of being girlie. I’m a bit of a peacock and love girlie colours; my wardrobe is full of bright colours, especially pinks and purples of every shade. I enjoy wearing casual dresses, but am much more comfortable in pants or capris. Shoe shopping is an exquisite form of torture for me. I love looking at gorgeous high heels, but please don’t ever expect me to actually wear them. I don’t even like shopping for runners or casual shoes, or—gasp—clothes and purses.
When it comes to hair and makeup, I’m next to useless. Part of the reason I don’t wear makeup is because I have so many chemical allergies, I usually just end up getting a headache from it. Another part is simply because I can’t be bothered. I know many, many women would never leave their home without their makeup carefully in place and that’s fine, if it works for them. But why should I have to paint my face if I don’t want to? I can practically hear all the horrified gasps from here. And that doesn’t bother me a bit.
I also confess, I consider going to the hairdresser almost on par with a trip to the dentist—not that I don’t have a lovely hairdresser, I do, I just find the whole process frazzles my nerves. And I can never get my hair to look the same as when I leave the salon. I’m deadly with appliances and limit their use for my own good. I have started using a straightener recently, but only on days when I have a serious attack of the frizzies. Otherwise, it’s wash and wear for me. And if a certain style is all the rage, I refuse to wear my hair that way. I’m anti-trendy in almost every way.
See, I’m definitely missing that girlie gene. No wonder I’m struggling to write a character who epitomizes the term girlie-girl. But it goes even deeper than that. Maggie is a career woman, she loves her job and she loves the big city and although she also loves men, she’s happy being single at this point in her life. I grew up in a city, but I married at twenty, moved to a small town soon after and started a family. By time I was Maggie’s age, I was a stay-at-home mom of two small boys. No experience with a career or city-life to draw on. So I struggle.
I also have a nine-year-old girl in this wip. I’d rather write about a teenage boy any day. I understand boys, I’ve raised three boys and now have two (adorable, bright, inspiring) young grandsons. When I married my husband thirty-five long years ago, he was still pretty much a boy. Yes, I know I was once a nine-year-old girl, but that was a couple of generations ago. Life was very different back then.
I’ll figure it out, I generally do. But fair warning to all the hip, young female urbanites in my life—to borrow the words from Sting—I’ll be watching you. 🙂

Dinosaurs, Hoodoos…and Gophers??

Whenever I don’t have a ready topic at hand, I’ve decided to haul out some old vacation pictures and highlight my favourites.  As with many of my pet photos, the picture quality won’t always be the best because they’re taken from scanned prints.

In the summer of 1997 we took a family trip to Calgary, through to Drumheller, and on to Edmonton.  The highlight, hands down, was the badlands of Drumheller and the Royal Tyrell Museum.

My boys couldn’t get enough of the dinosaur exhibits in the museum.

We all were impressed with Drumheller’s unique and exquisite land formations, and we wished we had more time to explore them further.

The hoodoos were especially fascinating.  Exquisite and magical.  Sad to think that one day they’ll all be gone.

To Hubby’s and my amused disbelief, surrounded by all those amazing natural phenomenons, my boys were most captivated by the gophers.

Having grown up in Calgary the little critters were quite passé to me, but my boys had never seen anything quite like them just roaming around free like that.  If they had it their way, we would’ve had a couple of vermin join us for the trip home.  Mommy had to explain, sorry guys, gophers might (and I heavily stress the word ‘might’) look cute and fun, but they’re actually little pests that were best left behind on the prairies.

We hope to one day return to explore those badlands.  It’ll be worth the trip.

The Happiest Little Fellow – Oliver Oreo

All my pets hold a special place in my heart, but I have to admit that most of my dogs were/are rather eccentric, to put it charitably.  My hubby might say neurotic or even psychotic, but he’s not as nice as me.  Oliver (and Brandy too) was an absolute exception.  You’d be hard pressed to find a dog with a sweeter, happier disposition than our little Oliver Oreo.

In the summer of 1990, I vaguely remember Hubby and one or two of the boys coming home from the hockey rink all excited about a litter of puppies being given away and if we hurried, we could get one.  So we hurried.  I do remember clearly seeing Oliver for the first time.  The runt of the litter, he was a teeny, tiny ball of black and white fluff, and he totally stole our hearts.  The consensus to bring him home was unanimous and we never once second-guessed that decision.

His mother was a purebred Lhasa Apso (the lesser-known cousin of the Shih Tzu) and his father was an unknown and unwelcome stranger.  Oliver had Lhasa Apso hair with the build of a small terrier.  He couldn’t have been more perfect, size-wise and temperament, for a family of young boys.  He was loyal and obedient to all of us, but he developed a special bond with my oldest son.  The two of them truly loved each other.

We still had our cat, Minet, at that time and Ollie readily wanted to make friends.  Once Minet had set down the ground rules – no jumping on her or eating out of her bowl – they became good buddies.  The funny thing about that was, although Oliver got along famously with Minet he had a strong and uncharacteristic hatred for all other cats.  You could almost see the smile on his face after he’d chased off a cat from our yard.

Being a Lhasa Apso, Ollie’s coat grew constantly and it didn’t take long before he became distinctly dishevelled.

I made the mistake – once – of thinking I could groom him myself.  Poor little guy, I think I thoroughly embarrassed him with my pathetic attempt.

Repairs to my first attempt weren’t an actual improvement.

Lesson learned, I had him professionally groomed after that.  We kept him long in the winter and had him clipped like a hound in the summer.  He looked handsome either way.

Oliver and TC, the little black male across the street, made fast friends.  They could often be found quietly taking in the sun together or enjoying a good romp on the lawn.  We sometimes joked that the two males had an especially “close” relationship, but what the hey, we were openminded and if it made them happy, who were we to judge?

The boys enjoyed teaching Ollie tricks – sit, shake, high-five, rollover, you know, all the usual, and the bright little guy quickly realized if he did them he’d get a treat.  With amazing speed and agility he’d rush through his entire repertoire ending with the “sit pretty” pose.  Always gave us a chuckle and earned him his treat.

We took Ollie with us everywhere we could.  He camped, he boated, he hiked, he visited family in faroff places.  He sometimes got a little nervous in the car, but good boy that he was, he “suffered in silence”, often needing nothing more than to sit on my lap and stick his nose in the air vent.  Although he often snuggled with the boys at home, he wasn’t a lapdog by any means, so I always found it amusing how he insisted on sitting on my lap in the car and I willingly accommodated his need when we traveled.

As Oliver got older, he developed a cough and we were given the dreaded news that he had congestive heart failure.  We put him on medication and it seemed to help for a while.  We did our best to keep him comfortable and content, but gradually he grew weaker and we had to make that heart-breaking decision to end his suffering.

In 2002, my brave, brave son, who loved his dog so very much, took him to vet and stayed with him as he eased into his forever sleep.  I can still envision the tip of Ollie’s little tail bobbing merrily as he slowly patrolled the perimeters one final time.  We almost changed our minds that morning, we really wanted to, but that would’ve been selfish of us.  We had that beautiful happy little dog in our lives for twelve fulfilling years and it was time to let him go.  But he will forever be a part of us.

Read the introduction with links to all my pets HERE. Meet Ollie’s buddy, Simon, HERE.

Our last day didn’t disappoint…

We ended up doing my most anticipated road trip, The Cape Shore drive, on our last day in Newfoundland.  As usual, the day started out dreary, foggy and chill.  We stopped first at the Castle Hill National Historic Site, the remains of an old French fort.  Maybe it was the weather, maybe my mind doesn’t visualize well, but I actually enjoyed the information boards more than I did the ruins.

We took a short trail (one of many) to the Gaillardin Redoubt.

The walk through moss-drenched forest was a delight.  The view of the town of Placentia from the redoubt would’ve been superb if not for the fog.

One word to describe Cape St. Mary’s Ecological Reserve?  Wow!!

I’ve seen bird rookeries before, but never so close that we felt as if we were sitting right amongst the birds.

There may be more dramatic sea stacks, but that bird-saturated 200-foot-high stack (aptly called Bird Rock) didn’t fail to impress.

Adequate words elude me to describe the thousands of birds, mostly gannets, soaring above our heads and zipping all around us, hovering, landing, nesting and playing.  My camera couldn’t do justice either.

The weather was remarkably clear, the wind mercifully light, and we could’ve stayed for hours, soaking in the incredible sights.

And mustn’t forget my little bonus – the final lighthouse of our trip.  That makes a total of five!!

Back in St. John’s, we took Hubby to experience genuine Newfie food at the Sundance Bar & Grill on infamous George Street.  Fried cod tongues (seriously)…

And Scrunchions.  (Pork fat fried to a crisp)

Yum!!  Not!!  The males at the table partook, the females wisely declined.

Back at the house, our son broke out his birthday bottle of Disaronno and we shared drinks chilled with bergie-cubes.  What a novel experience toasting with ice from a thousands-year-old iceberg.

A perfect ending to our final evening in Newfoundland.  We didn’t accomplish everything we intended, but maybe that’s a good thing.  Leave while still wanting more.

If you’d like to read about our entire Newfoundland trip, click HERE to start the adventure.

If you don’t like the weather, wait five minutes…well, maybe a half an hour.

Woke up to rain.  Rain is a common occurrence in St. John’s, but we’re talking blowing sideways, instantly-soaked-if-you-venture-out type of rain.  Even sightseeing from the car was out.

Thank the fates, the weather settled down enough to keep our lunch plans with the kids at The Rooms, the massive “salt-box” shaped cultural complex, perched above the city next to the venerable Catholic Basilica.

Only after I’d entered the centre, did I see its beauty.  Open and spacious, it houses four levels of galleries, museums, and thousands of displays.  We wished we’d known about this earlier, we could’ve idled-away the rainy hours there.  The café purportedly has remarkable views of St. John’s and the harbour.  That day we had a great view of thick fog.  So we enjoyed the happy company of our kids instead.

The day continued to clear, so we headed to Cape Spear, the most easterly point in North America.  For some reason the sign at the actual spot was missing, so we had to make do.

It also boasts a LIGHTHOUSE!!  (Number four so far)

It wasn’t prime sightseeing weather, but we went and saw what we could see, including derelict WWII batteries.

The waves put on an incredible show, despite the wind being mild.

Hubby “accidentally” got lost on the way to Quidi Vidi Village (pronounced Kiddy Viddy), and we ended up on Signal Hill again.  (I think he had an ulterior motive)

No wind this time, just lots of wispy fog.  Hubby snapped some interesting pictures, so typical of St. John’s foggy environs.

Queen’s Battery Barracks

Fort Amherst looked appropriately spooky for a ruin.

Last year when I hiked the Bawdens Highland area overlooking Quidi Vidi harbour, I fell in love with the picturesque spot, so had to take Hubby there to show him the little treasure.

Quidi Vidi Village and Lake are equally enchanting, but unfortunately I don’t have any good photos to share.

I was so touched to come across the memorial to one of Canada’s most inspirational heroes, Terry Fox.  At this spot, in April 1980, he dipped his toe into the icy Atlantic Ocean and started that fateful journey to raise money for Cancer Research, which continues in his memory to this day.

I took random shots along historic Water Street (one of the oldest streets in North America), trying to capture the beauty of the old buildings, difficult to do through the windshield of a moving car.

We actually ended up with tantalizing peeks of sunshine and blue sky, after all that rain and fog.

Tomorrow we’ll reach the final day of my journey.  Join me, please, as I describe the incredible Cape Shore Drive. Jump to that post HERE or start from the trip’s beginning HERE.

Lighthouse, Iceberg and Fog… Oh my!!

My premiere destination on our journey along Newfoundland’s Irish Loop was the lighthouse at Ferryland.  (Surprise, surprise)  Imagine the squeals and crazy jumping up and down when we stopped to take a picture of the Ferryland sign and I gazed over at the bay to spy right there, front and centre, an ICEBERG!!!  A massive behemoth compared to the one we saw at Middle Cove.  Not as pretty, but totally impressive.

Like magic, the haze lightened enough for us to snap some photos.

We circled the bay, stopping at every viewpoint, gazing with wonder, relishing the enjoyment and sheer luck of witnessing yet another of these beauties of nature.

Another novel experience: searching the shoreline for “bergie-bits”.  We couldn’t resist hauling home a few good chunks of thousands-year-old ice for our son.  With fog sneaking back in, we began our search for the lighthouse.  A lovely fifteen-minute hike through a gentle mist brought us to our destination.

Unfortunately the killjoy fog limited what would’ve been incredible views and we had to forego investigating the many hiking trails.

As we drove further south and away from the coastline, both the climate and topography changed dramatically.  The weather grew temperate, with clear skies and little wind.  The scenery alternated between modest farming communities and barren, rocky land where little more than scrub grew.

I kept a lookout for the caribou herds that thrive in that area, but no such luck.  As we passed St. Vincent’s and headed north along St. Mary’s Bay, the landscape gentled, became lush and pretty.

At the town of St. Mary’s, we happened across an enchanting little village someone had built along a stream.  So cute!!

A 1929 era bridge, spanning the Salmonier River, apparently a great fly-fishing site.

We got back to foggy St. John’s in time for dinner, pleased with our day’s adventure, even if the weather tried to put a damper on our fun. Jump to my next Newfoundland post HERE or start from the trip’s beginning HERE.

Row houses, churches and hills abound…Downtown St. John’s

St. John’s weather was cool for our downtown tour, but no wind, rain or fog, and we gave thanks for small blessings.  We didn’t take pictures of some stuff I’d photographed on my previous visit, but I wanted to share what we saw anyway, so forgive me for including a few photos from last year.

The War Memorial, situated off Water Street. (background Duckworth Street)

There’s a nice little courtyard right on the waterfront with excellent views of the harbour, The Battery and Signal Hill.

These Provincial dogs, the Labrador and Newfoundlander, located in that courtyard (off Water Street), are a definite Photo-Op.

The Supreme Court Building, straddling both Water and Duckworth Streets, is called Romanesque Revival.  I call it incredible.  My daughter-in-law, the brilliant lawyer, has the privilege and honor of working there.

Downtown St. John’s is renowned for its colorful row houses and Victorian classics.  Gower and Duckworth Streets probably have the best selection of restored examples, but any street we turned onto had something to delight the eye.

Gower Street:

Many buildings on Duckworth Street have been converted to businesses.

St John’s also has a large number of old churches that are true architectural wonders.  My personal favorites were St. John the Baptist Anglican Cathedral, which has an entire wall of pipes dedicated to its incredible pipe organ.

And the Catholic Basilica of John the Baptist.  This amazing structure sits high above the city on Military Road and is a landmark seen from afar.

Further down Military Road, is Government House, home of the Lieutenant Governor of NL.  The red sandstone used to build Gov’t House was quarried right at Signal Hill and is quite stunning.  Not many bushes on the lush grounds were blooming, but I know from my previous visit, they’re exquisite.

There’s so many more sights to see in downtown St. John’s and I’ll post proof of that another day.  Tomorrow it’s all about the Irish Loop.  Check it out HERE or start from the trip’s beginning HERE.

A Breezy Birthday

Brunch downtown St. John’s at Cora’s to celebrate brown-eyed boy’s birthday.  Excellent food, lots of fresh fruit, very yummy. My banana crepe was so massive, we passed it around the table for everyone to taste, and still brought home leftovers.

It’s an exhilarating and scenic hike to the top of Signal Hill, but the wind once again had the strength of a small hurricane, which gave me visions of being blown into St. John’s harbour, so we opted to drive.  Thanks to the brisk wind, we had a reasonably clear view of the harbour and Fort Amherst on the other side of the narrows.

Even got a hazy peek at Cape Spear off in the distance.  Because of less than optimal weather, we only did a whirlwind (punny) tour of Signal Hill and the historic Cabot Tower, the city’s most famous landmark.

With numerous hiking trails on Signal Hill and breathtaking vistas around each bend, I felt sorry Hubby didn’t get the chance to enjoy that experience.

A drive around the harbour brought us to Fort Amherst, guaranteed to be windy even on a calm day, so you can imagine the conditions that day.  Like Signal Hill and Cabot Tower, it’s a National Historic Site, although the actual fort has long disappeared and only gun emplacement ruins remain.  There’s also a Lighthouse!!

Please come back tomorrow to see my photos of downtown St. John’s.  For those of you who prefer looking at pretty pictures over reading text, I promise I won’t disappoint. Jump to that post HERE or start from the trip’s beginning HERE.

Holy Titanic, is that an iceberg??

Two entire days of our Newfoundland vacation wasted.  Kapootie, gone.  One day for Hubby to recoup from the stomach flu, and the next day for me to suffer with that same darn flu.  Stupid equal opportunity bug.  Although brutal, it thankfully didn’t hang around long, and by Saturday morning, Hubby had developed a serious case of cabin fever.

Daughter-in-law had a stack of files to do lawyer stuff with, so she stayed home while our son played tour guide.  It was a lovely day, bright and clear, if you didn’t mind the gale force wind slamming you in the teeth with the strength of a 2X4.

We drove through picturesque downtown St John’s, but ironically didn’t stop for pictures (note above comment about wind).  Then we headed to the also-picturesque beach at Middle Cove, not having the slightest suspicion what lie wait there.

Holy Iceberg!!!!  Right there in the bay!!  Right…There!!!

The picture doesn’t do it justice.  Believe me, it was RIGHT THERE, and to say I got excited would be a remarkable understatement.  Last summer I experienced the famous capelin roll at that same beach – which was a very cool event.  An iceberg is so much cooler.  Literally.  We’ve been to Alaska and have witnessed the magnificence of Margerie and Johns Hopkins Glaciers (something everyone should experience in their lifetime, IMHO) so you’d think a mere iceberg would be passé, but I gotta say, it had a majesty of its own that I found thrilling.

We couldn’t stay long because of the frigid wind, so we carried on up the highway towards Outer Cove and stopped at a couple of viewpoints along the way.  Spectacular!!

I remembered the stunningly beautiful sunset from one of those viewpoints last summer.  The current scene was equally breathtaking (even without factoring in the wind sucking the air from our lungs).

We continued our tour through Torbay, Flat Rock (see pic below), and on to Pouch Cove (pronounced Pooch Cove) before turning back.  We found the countryside quaint, charming, rustic, idyllic…  Cliché words, perhaps, but they just happen to apply.

Jump to my next St. John’s post HERE or start from the beginning of the trip HERE.