Contact Lenses, My New Family Member

       

Have you ever removed your glasses and noticed the tell tell indentations on each side of the bridge of your nose? It screams I wear glasses. It's like footprints on your face. Well, about a month ago I was admiring myself in the mirror, preparing for my selfie. (Just kidding.) I noticed the footprints and decided right then and there, I was getting myself some contacts. The footprints had to go. I promptly swiped my ophthalmologist on my Samsung Galaxy and wrangled myself an appointment.
          I had my eye exam and was given a prescription for glasses and a return appointment to meet my contacts. 7:30 in the morning I arrived at my Ophthalmologist's office before my shift at work.
          "Have you ever worn contacts?" he asked.
          "Well, no. I've never even thought about it until those unsightly prints showed up on my face."
          "You need to make another appointment for a day when you don't have to work. You're going to need a lot of time to learn to put them in and take them out," my doctor informed me.
          My face fell along with my mood. "No. I can't," I protested. "I work everyday. I need these contacts. Those glasses can't rest another day on my nose."
          I guess he felt kind of sorry me. His head shook and his lips turned upward. I think he had an inward laugh at me. "Have a seat," he told me. Off he went to the secretary's office and returned with the package I so desired. The contacts. They were in disposable liquid filled containers. He peeled the lids back. I watched feeling as if a million dollars was headed my way. My heart did a little happy dance. "Wash your hands," he told me. "Always wash your hands before handling the contacts." He sat a mirror in front of me. His finger disappeared into the liquid and emerged with a clear contact balanced on it's tip.
          I stared at it. What was I suppose to do with it? It wasn't long before I learned. He transferred the clear lens to my index finger of my right hand. He said, "Use the index finger of your left hand and pull your top lid upward. Place your second finger of your right hand on your lower lid and pull down."
          As I listened, I was thinking, isn't all this pulling going to stretch my delicate skin above and below my eyes and lead to wrinkles? He didn't hear my thought and just went on, "Keep your eyes open and look at the lens. Press it in."
          Press it in. I'm afraid to put eyed drops in my eyes. How was I going to stick a finger in my eye? Well, he left me sitting there with the contact balanced on my finger and my face in the mirror. A paper towel lined the desk where I was sitting just in case the tiny, clear lens fell. I tried hard to press it in. I really did. It took forever. The contact dried out. I called to him and told him so. He came back. Dipped the contact into the liquid. It has to be moist when you put it in your eye. He left me again. Alone. I was determined. It paid off. I looked my eye in the mirror. I didn't blink. I pressed the clear lens on my iris. I was excited it stayed there. I got it in, but it sure felt uncomfortable. I told my doctor this also. He said, "You have to get use to it. It will take some time. Give it a week."
          The left eye was easier. It went in without a fuss. I felt like a pro. My doctor came back. "Did you get them in?" I blinked a smile at him. I was as proud as if I had made it to the top of Mt. Everest. Just as quickly as I made it to the top he blew me back down. "Now you have to pinch them out." What did he mean pinch? I felt a little queazy. I hadn't thought about that.
           "Couldn't I just leave them in for a week and come for another appointment?" I dared to ask.                "Nope and nope. I want you to take them out every night and put them in every morning."
           He was really testing me. I was deflating by the millisecond. I sat back down and began to try to pinch the clear lenses out, the one's in my eyes that I couldn't see. The right one was just as difficult to remove as it was to get in. The left was my friend. My left eye loves me. I proudly announced, "I did it. They're out. What do I put them in?" The container in front of me disposable, no lid. I definitely was not going through the trauma of putting them in again, so I thought. Ha, ha, ha, the last laugh was on me.
           "You have to buy a contact lens care kit. You need the lens case to put your contacts in," he informed me.
           "Aren't you going to give me one?" I felt a little panicky.
           "Do I look like the CVS to you?" he asked. He was still having a grand time with me so early in the morning. "Stop at the CVS. Get a kit. Take the contacts out at night. Put them back in in the morning. Call me in a week."
           I sat back down at the desk, in front of the  mirror and gave it my all. The right took a few tries but not as many. The left eye loves me. It went in on the first try. "Suppose my eyes feel dry during the day?" I asked. He gave up a couple samples of eye drops. He let me know I could get those at the CVS also.
           After work I went to the CVS. That was priority. I had to get the little clear things out of my eyes and I needed somewhere to store them. I found the aisle and began pricing the kits and the bottles of solution I would need. A clerk asked if I needed help. Yes I did. What am I suppose to buy and how much. She helped alright. I would need a lifetime supply of solution to clean and store my lenses. I would need eye drops just in case my eyes were irritated or a little dry. My kit came to around $14 for the case, solution and eye drops. So now instead of buying food for a pet, I'm buying solution for contacts.
           It takes a lot of patience for contacts. You need extra time in the morning to put them in before work. It's another step in the morning ritual. Don't think too harshly of my doctor. I worked with him at the out patient center. He's a gem, quite entertaining. He's definitely not a stuffed shirt. He just says whatever. I just wanted you to know that if you're contemplating contacts, it's a commitment. They don't go on and off as easy as eyeglasses.


  A Secret Love Kindle format is now on sale for $1.49
If you prefer the story to surround you as I do, the Audible book is available. Kathryn Clark does an awesome job bringing this family life.
Give an Audible Gift of A Secret Love this holiday season.



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"What an ending!"

Overall

Performance

Story

What did you love best about A Secret Love?

The story was interesting right from the start and kept my attention throughout. The unpredictable twist of the story - the main idea behind the scenes was something that wouldn't have crossed my mind in a million years.

Did the plot keep you on the edge of your seat? How?

The structure of the story was such that it kept me trying to figure how the author was going to put two different scenes together. The husband cheating on his wife, Christine, and Christine being blackmailed.

Which scene was your favorite?

My favourite scene was towards the end where Derek looks at the inscription on the watch he was given as a Christmas present by his wife and children.

Was this a book you wanted to listen to all in one sitting?

I definately listened to the whole book in one sitting as it was very difficult to put down - or in this case, turn off!

Holiday Recipes

The holidays are just around the corner. If you're like me trying to decide the menu by surfing for recipe suggestions on the internet, you'll love this. Here's a page where you can share links to a favorite recipe. In the comments box, add your link to a mouth watering meal or dessert you've either come across or one you have posted. Please label as main dish, side dish or dessert. Thanks for sharing. Follow this blog to stay up to date with the recipes.

Christmas

When you think of Christmas, what images do you see behind your closed eyes? Go on. Close your eyes. What do you see? What do you hear? I closed my eyes and I saw a scene of white. Flakes of snow dancing around before blanketing the ground. A  lofty Pine tree in the center towering skyward. The white fluff clinging to the needles. Christmas songs piped in. Rudolph, Jingle Bells, Please Come Home For Christmas. Children's voices laughing, talking, singing. Santa sitting on his North Pole perch. Children on his lap. His spare tire belly rolling with jolly laughter. His rosy cheeks, red lips and white beard animated as each child rattles off their list of coveted gifts. A young girl occupies Santa's knee. Her brother claims the other. He rattles off his list. Big boy things. Not the one's for babies. Santa's attention turns to the young girl, "And you little lady? What do you want?" She doesn't even take time to think. Her answer is swift. "I already have a lot Santa. I don't want any toys. There's just one thing I'd like to have."

I for one hope she gets it. A Secret Love is a story of a family, Derek, Christina, Carl and Katie. The love is stretched thin, tested to the limit. Christmas is a time of giving, selflessness. What if you gave a selfless gift that turned into Pandora's Box? What would you do? Once you begin reading or listening to A Secret Love you wont' be able to stop until you reach the end.

A Secret Love Kindle format is now on sale for $1.99
If you prefer the story to surround you as I do, the Audible book is available. Kathryn Clark does an awesome job bringing this family life.
Give an Audible Gift of A Secret Love this holiday season.

See what others have to say about A Secret Love

Goodreads Book Giveaway

A Secret Love

by Brigitta Moon

Giveaway ends November 27, 2015.
See the giveaway details at Goodreads.

Enter Giveaway

"What an ending!"

Overall

Performance

Story

What did you love best about A Secret Love?

The story was interesting right from the start and kept my attention throughout. The unpredictable twist of the story - the main idea behind the scenes was something that wouldn't have crossed my mind in a million years.

Did the plot keep you on the edge of your seat? How?

The structure of the story was such that it kept me trying to figure how the author was going to put two different scenes together. The husband cheating on his wife, Christine, and Christine being blackmailed.

Which scene was your favorite?

My favourite scene was towards the end where Derek looks at the inscription on the watch he was given as a Christmas present by his wife and children.

Was this a book you wanted to listen to all in one sitting?

I definately listened to the whole book in one sitting as it was very difficult to put down - or in this case, turn off!

A SECRET LOVE by BRIGITTA MOON

The Anatomy of a Great Novel Character

I have been pondering what makes a great character who propels a book to best seller status. The answer is simple. I'm just shaking my head at how I could have missed it. I will warn you it takes a lot of thought, dedication and imagination. The character that comes to mind is Sue Grafton's Kinsey Millhone. Through this series the readers know Kinsey as if she were a friend. They know her physical appearance, her attitudes, her job, her background, and her family history. Kinsey is a real person; only she isn't. You see what I'm getting at? She is someone a reader enjoys spending time with. Just so you can see clearly my point, read Kinsey's bio. You'll swear you're reading about a living, breathing person. This description is from the awesome Wikipedia.

Kinsey Millhone was born on May 5, 1950. Her unusual first name was the maiden name of her mother, wealthy debutante Rita Cynthia Kinsey, who married Kinsey's father, Randy Millhone, against the wishes of Kinsey's grandmother, Cornelia LaGrand Kinsey (Grand), causing a family rift. Kinsey's parents were killed in a car wreck when she was five; Kinsey was trapped in the car with her dead parents for several hours before she was rescued. She then moved in with her mother's sister Virginia (Aunt Gin), the only relative to side with Rita in the family rift, although Kinsey later finds out her parents were en route to a bridge-building family visit when the accident occurred. From her Aunt Gin, Kinsey acquired various eccentricities, including a liking for peanut-butter and pickle sandwiches. In high school, Kinsey was a self-described pot-smoking delinquent. After three semesters at the local community college she realized that academic life was not for her and she joined the Santa Teresa police force. After two years, Kinsey decided life in uniform wasn't for her, either, and quit the police force to become an investigator for California Fidelity, an insurance company, where Aunt Gin had worked. Eventually, she became a self-employed private investigator, initially mentored by local PI Benjamin Byrd, who had been a partner of another local PI, Morley Shine, before striking out on her own, solving various disappearances and murders, clearing names and dodging hitmen. For some years she maintained a loose relationship with CFI, then rented premises in the offices of her lawyer, Lonnie Kingman, before renting independent office space in later years. She has an antagonistic relationship with local policeman Con Dolan, although this mellowed into a reasonably amicable truce after Dolan's retirement and they have co-operated on more than one recent case.

Kinsey is 5'6" tall, and weighs about 118 pounds. She has short, dark, thick hair that she trims with nail scissors, being generally uninterested in her physical appearance. She is, however, very particular about her teeth, and even mentions other people's good teeth (especially men to whom she might be attracted). Her wardrobe consists mostly of jeans and turtleneck sweaters, though she also owns an extremely wrinkle-resistant "little black dress" for those occasions when dressing up is unavoidable. She does, however, place a great premium on physical fitness and jogs three miles every weekday.^[2] At the same time, she has a "penchant for junk food." She also suffers from tinnitus, caused when she shot an attacker from inside a trash can. Kinsey has been divorced twice. Her first husband, Mickey, an ex-cop, appears in O is for Outlaw and her second husband, Daniel, a struggling musician, appears in E is for Evidence. In most ways, Kinsey is a loner. She has no children and lives in an extremely compact studio apartment converted from a single-car garage. Her landlord is a young-at-heart octogenarian, Henry Pitts, a retired commercial baker who enjoys creating crossword puzzles; Kinsey admits to having a crush on Henry, but also says he is the closest thing she will have to a father. Henry's family is long-lived, his siblings all being well into their 90s. When not dining on fast food, Kinsey eats regularly at a local tavern, run by flamboyant Hungarian, Rosie, who, in the course of the stories, marries Henry's hypochondriac brother, William.

Kinsey has had several relationships in the series, beginning with Charlie Scorsoni, then Jonah Robb, a police officer, and Robert Dietz, another private eye, until the later novels in which she began an affair with longtime friend Cheney Phillips, a police detective. Kinsey remains friends with Cheney after their split, as she did for a while with Jonah, though Jonah dropped out of her life increasingly after patching up his on-off marriage. Dietz on the other hand has lost touch with her completely, although Kinsey still thinks of him occasionally.

Having lived for most of her life with very few family members (for most of the series, her "family" consisted of Henry and his siblings, Rosie, and the generous-natured employees in nearby offices), Kinsey received a shock when she found out about the Kinsey clan. When she met cousins Tasha and Lisa, she realized the three are very similar in appearance. Kinsey and Tasha formed a business relationship in M Is for Malice and Kinsey was instinctively attached to Tasha's mother, her aunt Susanna, when they met. However, she has remained reluctant to become involved with her new-found family, feeling that they abandoned her when she was orphaned. However in U is for Undertow she discovers that her grandmother made strenuous efforts to foster her after the accident, which Aunt Gin concealed from Kinsey. Kinsey finally agreed to meet Grand at a family event where her grandmother, now very frail, mistook her for her mother.

Love is a Family Affair. Experience it with an audible book. 

You can even listen for free. A Secret Love.

Managing Your Twitter Feed

Checking my twitter feed in the morning, lunch time, after work, before bed. This can be daunting and time consuming especially if your follower and following list are long. I have found a way to manage the twitter feed and I want to share it with you. My aim with this post is to show you quickly how to keep up with the can't miss tweets. First click on the name of the person. Next to the follow icon is a wheel. Click on it. Second prompt says add or remove from a list. Click it. Click the icon that says create a list. Give your list a name. Describe your list. Decide if you want the list to be public for all the world to see or if the list is for your eyes only, private. Save the list. Make lists for multiple categories like family, shopping, travel, books and so on. Add tweeters to your lists using the wheel and checking which list you want them on.

Now when you want to check can't miss tweets, click on followers. Click lists. Click the list of tweets you want to catch up on. Voilà, only tweets from that group will stream. Awesome isn't it?

Creating Intrigue in a Story

Gripping the attention of a reader at the very beginning of a story is key. If the reader isn’t baited and hooked from sentence one, you risk losing an audience.  In my book A Secret Love I actually rearranged the chapters for the effect of intrigue. The reader must have a reason to continue. Below is the prologue for a novel I have not yet completed. But, I am sure after reading it, the reader will be filled with questions and flip the page. That’s all you want, a reader to enjoy the story enough to flip the page.

Tonight you can enjoy My Morning Free on Amazon

    Forced Silence

Seraphina slumped against the tin partition in the restroom stall, head limp, eyes staring blankly at the floor. Her backpack slid off her shoulder, down her arm, hitting the tiled floor with a thud, awakening her from her trance. She quickly tugged it back to the safety of her grip, hugging it tightly to her chest. She made it. Back to DC.

    The space was tight but she would make it work to do what she needed to prepare. The wait had been long. Now here it was. The answer to her prayers.

     Removing her baseball cap, she shook out her wavy black hair, combed her fingers through and fanned it back. She hung her rumpled jacket on the hook followed by her backpack. Metal screeched as the zipper of the backpack was released. Out came a delicately pleated black dress, sheer stockings and black leather three inch strappy sandals. In went comfortable jeans, a football jersey, a pair of socks and tennis. The metal screeched to a close.

     She stilled herself listening for sounds of commuters. No splashing sounds. No flushing sounds. No chatter. Only stillness. She emerged to the mirror opening the front pocket of the backpack producing a compact. In the mirror the narrow, sagging face of a young girl of 18 speckled with freckles, no glimmer in her eyes, no color in her cheeks peered back. She bit on her thin chapped lips, disheartened. She pressed her eyelids shut and took in a deep breath to clear her thoughts.

     It was all behind her now and her future was promising, so why the look of despair? Her hands began to work. Black mascara lengthened and thickened her lashes. Black eyeliner lined her lower lids. Desert gold and peach blossom shadowed her lids. Coral gloss shined her lips while rose blush colored her cheeks. Her hands finished with bronzer for a sun kissed appeal.

     Now in the mirror a young woman of 18, divine, classy stared back. Commuters piled in forming lines. Seraphina waited in the back of the line for her moment. She lost herself in a group as they made their way out. Sunlight warmed her skin and impeded her vision. A pair of sunglasses went from her backpack to her eyes. Gracefully walking with all the refinement of a young beautiful heiress, she stepped to the curb and entered a cab.

    “Where to ma'am?”

    “Georgetown.”

Tonight you can enjoy My Morning Free on Amazon

Getting Away With Murder

       When I think of the phrase Master Story Teller, Edgar Allen Poe comes to mind. His short stories are especially intriguing. The start of the story ropes you in. As the story progresses and it seems the villain has gotten away with his dirty deed Poe kicks it up a notch, turning up the heat all at once. Take for instance the Tell-Tale Heart, one of my favorites. The evil doer admits to being crazy but he doesn't see it as a problem. After all the disease has sharpened his senses. He methodically stalks his prey, watching him night after night. All because he didn't care for the man's eye staring at him. An eye he described as that of a vulture, pale blue with a film over it. So to rid himself of seeing the eye the man's life had to go.
       I will admit the deed was gruesome but in Poe's story telling he states the facts without the bloody details. Still you see them. This is how Poe describes the villain's actions- If you still think me mad, you will think so no longer when you when I describe the wise precautions I took for the concealment of the body. The night waned, and I worked hastily, but in silence. First of all I dismembered the corpse. I cut off the head and the arms and the legs.- You saw it didn't you. All the bloody details.
       The villain had gotten away with murder. Even when the police came a calling. They had not a clue of his wise concealment. He invited them in. Played the gracious host. Touring them around the old man's room. Everything in place. His treasures secure and undisturbed. He was confident his deed was covert. So confident here's how he proceeded- In the enthusiasm of my confidence, I brought chairs into the room, and desired them here to rest from their fatigues, while I myself, in the wild audacity of my perfect triumph, placed my own seat upon the very spot beneath which reposed the corpse of the victim.
       The officers were satisfied. Nothing amiss. He had convinced them. But...his sharpened senses. The heart likened to the beating of a heart. Yes, Edgar Allen Poe is a Master Story Teller. I won't ruin the ending for you. You can read the complete story here.

Here's the newest book 

in the

 Brigitta Moon Books Collection.

Marry For Love? Marry For Money?

      It was family movie night at the Holsum's home. Four elementary children, two girls, two boys lay on their sleeping bags on the grass, chins propped on their hands, legs bent at the knees, feet flapping happily in the air under the moon lit sky; eyes ogling the makeshift movie screen. The adults sat comfortably behind in their lawn chairs, carbonated drinks in their hands, whispering conversation here and there. The movie was ending. Belle and Beast with eyes locked danced into jubilant oblivion. Happily ever after.
      Kay's head tilted to the side. Four fingers touched her cheek. Her lips parted in a delicate smile, "So beautiful. Always marry for love," she said dreamily.
       Janice scoffed at her, "You're kidding right? Marry for love?
      "No, I'm not kidding." Kay turned in her chair, faced Janice, "Money won't buy you happiness Janice."
      "But it will buy me whatever I want," Janice said outstretching her arms as if offering the world.         "When my husband pisses me off, I don't have to sit and stew. I just take his credit cards and off I go. Shopping."
      "And that's your definition of happiness, of love, of marriage?" Kay asked Janice.
      "Perhaps you weren't listening Kay. I said marry for money. No love involved honey. Just money."
      "So, just to be clear," Kay began, index finger on her chin, "If you fell in love with a man who didn't meet your required income statement, you wouldn't marry him if he asked?"
      Janice's lips went into a tight line, she side eyed kay with a pitying glance, crossed her legs. Laced her fingers around her knees. "No, honey. I wouldn't. He would be history. "No cash...dash," She pointed her finger toward the wilderness.
      Carmen sat quiet, legs crossed at the ankles, elbow leaning on the armrest, cheek resting in her hand. Uncommitted to the conversation. She took a sip of her fizzling drink.
      "What do you think Carmen?" Kay asked reeling her in.
       Sitting up straiter in the lawn chair, eyeing her two sisters Carmen said, "Well, I guess you could learn to love a rich man."


So, what's your opinion? What would you have said to Kay's question?


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