Where, oh where, has my sex drive gone.

I mean I have looked all over for it.  Under the bed, in the cupboard, even the dryer.

Yet it has vanished.  No great surprise since I have gone through the "change" #okay #finemenapauseforyoumedicalpeople

I had expected a lot of things to happen, given the horror stories on the internet (not to take away from anyone who is truly having a rough time), but none of them happened.  I had expected my ovaries to go out with a bang (given that is how they burst on the scene during puberty).

Instead it appears my ovaries decided to take a slow, graceful exit stage left.

It happened so slowly as a matter of fact that I barely noticed.  It actually took my Roomie asking if I needed her to buy me feminine hygiene products while she was at the drug store, to realize that no, I did not need them.  But then I stopped and went... wait.  When is the last time I actually did have to buy said products?

Probably a year ago.  My first thought was "WAHOO."  My second was... "Ah, now I get it."

You see I had noticed that I was thinking a lot about Disneyland.  The characters, the ambiance, the rides.

Every few minutes the thought of Stitch or Goofy or Buzz Lightyear would pop into my mind, I would think about it for a few seconds, then move on.

It wasn't until that day with my Roomie, that I put two and two together.

Now that hormones weren't in play, giving me decidedly more risque thoughts, my brain had just attached itself to the next best thing... Disneyland?

Um, yep, I guess so! :-)

Don't get me wrong, I do mix my sex drive and if it would like to come back home, I would more than welcome it.  But given I am single #akaDoomed, I guess Disneyland will just have to do #quitenicelyinfact :-)

Cat-Pyre

This blog isn't so much about me (shocking I know) but about my roommate.

While on the surface my Roomie seems like an ordinary member of society. She has s job, a car, and loves to "spin."

Get to know her though?  And the cat crazy just pours right out of her.  There is nothing that she doesn't love about cats and her black cat extraordinaire, Elvira.  She even likes the smell of Elvira's poop (okay, maybe not that bad, but pretty darn close).

It doesn't matter that Elvira bites and scratches if she gets the least bit upset (well, according to my Roomie, Elvira is AFRAID and that is why she comes flying AT you with claws and teeth bared #ya #right).

But this blog isn't even about Elvira and the other cats (even though I could twenty blogs just on the cat antics in the house).  No, I want to remain focused and talk about my Roomie's cat obsession... I mean cat fancy #sorry #obsessionwastherightword

So Roomie and I are sitting around talking about the animals ('cause that's what we do while looking out at the beach) and some how vampires also came up (another common theme in our household).

Therefore it was no great surprise when Roomie blurted out, "Cat-pyre."  Obviously referring to a cat that had become vampiric.

Now this blog isn't about the fact she said "Cat-pyre," it is the wistful look on her face as she thought about what a cat-pyre would look and be like.  Then her eyes unglazed and she breathed out... "That would be awesome."

Yes, for her it would be.  I mean, combining her two favorite topics into one???  Fantastic!

Then we were watching True Blood and Jason had been mauled by a were-black panther and was suffering as he was turning into a big cat.

However what my Roomie took away from this horrible sequence of events was...  "I'd go through all of that if I got to be a panther."

I looked at her, with her sincere eyes (a cat of course on her lap),  "Yes, I believe you would."

She just nodded sagely and went back to watching the show.

So if you happen to stumble upon a Cat-Pyre or Black Were-Panther, please leave a comment below with your location since it probably means my Roomie has fulfilled her dreams but has gotten lost #howdoyouputatagonaCat-Pyre?

Only so much time...

Yep, I have hit it.

That moment in your life when you start to lose friends, contemporaries, to illness and disease.  Not just the awful, early tragic death of a high school buddy.  No, I am talking about *gasp* old age diseases.

I keep shaking my head, I mean I am only 46, yet the slow march of time appears to be quickening its pace.

I thought that 40 was the new 30?  How wrong I could be!

I mean, I thought I was totally cool with my mortality, until you know, it actually is staring me in the face.  And at 46, really?

I keep telling myself I am just being silly and not to worry, but then our office manager's best friend... aged 38 was diagnosed with bowel cancer and died within six weeks.

A great client of mine 52, died of a stroke last week.

I had a friend visit, 54, and it was clear he was starting to show signs of "forgetfulness" which as we all know now is something much more.

But then I look at Kirstie Alley and others cooking right along, as dynamic and vibrant as always.

I began worrying which path I was going down.  Would I be one of those shocking "Oh My GOD she was only ____ years old."  Or would I be one of those "Oh My GOD, she's how old?  She looks great!"

Then I realized worrying wasn't going to do much, was it?

If I get called "home" early, I get called "home" early.  Not exactly a lot I can do about some of the inexorbable forces at work in nature.

What I can do though is stop worrying.  Stop looking for "signs" of my mortality.

If I only have "so much time" left, I might as well make the most of it.

Of course how exactly I am going to do it is a slight mystery, but one I am eager to discover!

How do you handle your mortality?  Do you feel that same pang? #pleasetellmeIamnottheonlyone!

Lost Loves...

Um... probably should stay lost. LOL

Yes, I had in my mind that I had lost the love of my life.  He truly was everything that a man could be and perfect for me. 

And I had ruined it.  Ruined it with my fear and insecurities.  I had run away in shame.

I carried these dual notions for nearly 15 years.

He was perfect.  I was scum.

Yet somehow I took comfort in this fact.  I could hold that possibility of that long lost love close to my heart and ache for what could have been. 

If only I hadn't screwed up...  What if...  If only...

Can you hear the pining?  The swell of music in the background?  Yes, I believe I did weep a bit of blood.

Then out of the blue he contacts me.  Let's catch up.

My heart soared.  And the more we cooresponded (email 'cause that's how we roll these days), the more the only barriers I perceived that could keep us apart were gone.

Within a few weeks we decide he should visit.  Now he is a vet as well and he can't find anyone to watch his dogs so, of course, we decide for him to just hop in the car and bring them with him.

I dreamed of our meeting.  I dreamed of the first time we would set eyes upon each other. What would he say?  Would we hug?  Would we kiss?

The only thing I knew for sure was that that it would be magical.

Okay, fastforward to three dogs barking/howling/screaming in my driveway.

The love of my life looking haggard and beaten after driving 7 hours with them.  And a little pissed that I was 'late.' We did the bum's rush out to the backyard where the dogs proceeded to bark/howl/scream...


And not just that, but any time we get close to talking about anything emotional the little poodle goes berserk.
I mean, I could not have written a more Charlie Chaplin/3 Stooges fire drill if I could try.

Within ten minutes he announces that he is going home in the morning.  I try to persuade him to give it some time for the dogs to calm down (the whole while plugging my ears).

Later in the evening with a beautiful, gorgeous sunset he says "I know I should have waited until I had someone to watch the dogs but I just really, Really, REALLY wanted to come see you."

I step forward, "Oh Ken,"

And I swear that I am not exaggerating... at that exact moment, the poodle vomits on his foot.  The other dog falls off a chair and the blind dog runs into the sliding glass door.

I just looked at him and said, "Yep, leaving tomorrow morning sounds about right."

So all the gossimer haze around that relationship is gone. #clearly

It wasn't so much the dog's antics, it was the fact that obviously he was used to the dogs running some emotional interference for him.  And I realized in that moment that I want a guy who can just say what he feels rather than going through some kind of bizarre labyrinth.

I know that I should be glad that the rose colored glasses have been taken off and that I have clarity, however I must say, I do miss those violins when thinking of him :-) LOL

Indie Book Event - A Recap of Social Awkwardness

Glued Back Together - Poignancy Alert!

I have had a lot of loss this year.  Three beloved pets.  But they were elderly and I was #somewhat prepared, being a veterinarian and all, for when their end came.

Then a puppy burst into my life, Jaspy J (his rapper name FYI) and brought such joy.  You see he was a cat-dog.  He climbed cat trees.  He peed in litter boxes and his best friend (besides me of course) was a cat.

Sure he had his issues... like having to be within line of sight of me at ALL times, but we truly were best buddies.

But his best quality was that he always worked things out.  I didn't want him on my lap.  No worries!  he would spend fifteen minutes flattening himself into a pancake and sneaking under my laptop until he was wedged between it and me.  Mission accomplished!

Then he got sick.  It was stupid really.  He must have eaten something he shouldn't have.  Puppies do that all the time.  I treat puppies who do that all the time.  No biggie.

But then he started bleeding into his bowel.  Okay, maybe not so common but I have treated a million of those and had 999,999 get better.

Yet even after several transfusions he still bled.  It was time to take him to surgery.

And we could NOT find the bleeder.  I sank to the floor, knowing if surgery did not work, the chances that Jaspy J would pull through were dim.

But he worked things out.  He was young.  We prayed for a miracle.

And it seemed we got it.  For a full week he recovered.  I was even ready to take your his sutures when he suddednly crashed again.

This time, this time no amount of praying could pull him through.

When I finally had to put him down, I felt my heart shatter.  I mean I FELT it.

At first it was a loud crack and it broke along the major fault lines, but then as those shattered pieces fell the floor I heard the tinkering of a thousands shards scattering across the floor.

I thought this is it.  After everything I have been through after all the wounds and all the healing I will end up like Jasper.  Doomed to succumb.

I wasn't going to get another dog.  Possibly EVER.  I felt jinxed and damaged.

I laid awake the next night blaming myself for his death.  I combed over every minute of every day trying to figure out what I had done wrong.  How could I save so many lives and not my own dog's?

Then the night after I lost him, I fell asleep more out of exhaustion than to find peace.

That is when the dream came.  Jasper told me that he did NOT forgive me, simply because there was nothing to forgive.

And by the way, he was finally getting to do his rap since he had a concert and was opening for Tupac.  Who knew God was so into rap? LOL

But most importantly Jasper did not want me to be alone so he told me that his cousin was at the pound and in danger of being put down.

I was to look for a female, with his same divet on his nose and white blaze up his forehead.

I woke up feeling hopeful.  I still really did not want another dog necessarily, but I felt like I had to at least see if this dream was true.

So I went onto the pound's website and sure enough there was 1 dog that was a girl, with a divet and a blaze.  Now if I were to get another dog, I really wanted a male, but who can go against God?

I rushed to the pound but someone else was looking at her.  I shrugged and said I would wait.  After all Jasper had sent me, I knew that I was going home with her and not someone else.

Sure enough, those other people did not want her.

I was really calm when I walked out to the play yard.  "She" was just as cute as promised and loved to jump and kiss your face.

Then we realized "she" was a HE!  He had been mis-catagorized as a female!

Tears rolled down my cheek.  Here was proof positive that Jasper truly was in heaven and wanted me to be happy.

As always he found a way to make it work.  It may not have been perfect or even pretty, but it worked.

Now my heart was not broken... it was glued back together.  I am not sure if it will ever beat quite the same, but due to Jasper it is beating once again :-)

I am a horrible flirt...

No, seriously.

Not like I flirt like crazy, I mean I am horrible at the actual flirting.

So when I heard that this Menage a Blog was all about seducing the reader I knew that I was in trouble.  I mean, did the Blog Tour de Force people not read the title of my blog?  Dating after 40, okay hoping to Date after 40.

My seduction skills are... let us say rusty #rustedthrough

I mean the closest I come to seduction any more is to convince the guy at our local BBQ joint to give me an extra side of sauce for free.  And then half the time he still charges me the 50¢!!!

So you can see why I was a little bit nervous about competing today with Amber Scott and Deena Remiel.

Come on, Amber Scott is not only a huge Kindle bestseller but writes "highly addictive paranormal romance."  Her title is Fierce Dawn and has a total hotty angel on the cover (which begs the question is he naughty or nice?).  I mean just looking at the cover makes me want to jump into bed with her #book.

Then I am also up against Deena Remiel with Brethren Beginnings.  Um... the cover's got a fabulous picture of a guy with phenomenal abs.  She clearly knows my weakness for a nice six-pack!

And the steamy hotness doesn't stop at their covers.  Nope, once you start reading, the pages sizzle as you turn them!

Then there is me with my little ole gentle, brand-spanking new YA fantasy 7 Folds of Winter.  It is more a book you cozy up to with a nice warm cup of cocoa.  The world of 7 Folds is woven in shades of white, blue with splashes of rebellion red.  The characters are rich in variety and even though many of them are not even human, they all have such flawed humanity about them.

It is an old school fantasy that relies on powerful storytelling and intricate world building rather than tricks or gimmicks.

So my only hope in this competition today is that after you are done with the hot and steamy roller coaster ride that is Fierce Dawn and Brethren Beginnings, you will want to take a little break, breathe out a deep sigh and curl up with warm fantasy. #otherwise #Iamscrewed :-)

I was contemplating trying to buy you all off with some lasagna (which totally would have worked for me), but then realized... um... I want all the lasagna for myself! #duh #plusalittlemessyinthemail.

So if you take pity on my and my fledgling fantasy, you can vote for me and receive a free eBook of 7 Folds of Winter, by simply leave a comment below (you do need to give Disqus your email address so that I have somewhere to send your eBook).

Let's show them that sweetness and innocence still count! #theydontseemtoinreallife #soletsmakeithappenhere!!!

Don't forget to hit up Tuesday's line up of Lacey Weatherford's The Trouble with Spells (which is deliciously delightful), Terri Giulaino Long's In Leah's Wake (a heartrending story of family), and Rachel Thompson's Dollars & Sense: The Definitive Guide to Self-Publishing Success (which doesn't sound all that hot unless of course you want to make money off your own book, then this book is smokin' sexy!).

If you are reading this after Monday July 18th, no worries!  You can still obtain a free copy of 7 Folds of Winter! Just leave a comment below and I will be notified! #latecomerswelcome :-)

Also to stay on top of all the give-aways, check in with the Indie Book Collective for each tour day's official schedule :-)


And again, THANKS so much for participating in such an amazing tour and making it so very special for all of us! #awesomeness