The Release of Jessie’s War!

Today is April 1! And, I’m not joking when I say that Jessie’s War is out on Amazon. I’m starting a blog tour, and holding a contest–one lucky winner will get a cameo choker! Here’s a picture.Image

In any case, here are my tour stops. Please come join me. I’m actually off for two weeks, so you can count on me to be hanging around the various blogs–just to see what’s happening! (Because I’m nosy like that)

Blurb Blitz:
April 1:  Love Triumphs Past and Present<>
April 2:  Fantasy Powered by Love <>
April 3:  Straight from the
April 4:  The Muse <>
April 5:  Racing To Read <>

Virtual Book Tour:
April 8:  Bookgirl Knitting <>
April 9:  Review Must Read Faster <>
April 10:  Lisa Haselton’s Reviews and
April 10:  STOP 2 Review  My Devotional
April 11:  Words of Wisdom from The Scarf
April 12:  Simply Ali <>

Blurb Blitz:
April 15:  Welcome to My World of Dreams <>
April 16:  Krystal Shannan – Where Love and Destiny
April 17:  Andi’s Book Reviews <>
April 18:  Books and Other Spells <>
April 19:  Wicked Readings by

Virtual Book Tour:
April 22:  Long and Short Reviews <>
April 22:  STOP 2 review Journey of a Bookseller
April 23:  It’s Raining Books <>
April 24:  Janna Shay’s Fair Play <>
April 25:  Rachel Brimble Romance <>
April 26:  You Gotta Read Reviews <>


The Hotel on the Corner of Assault and Battery

As you may know, we recently got back from vacation, and I’ll post pictures of our trip to the coast maybe tomorrow. Or Monday. Or, more to the point, whenever I get around to it.

But today’s post is dedicated to our final hotel, where we stayed on our visit to Six Flags. Maybe the title tipped you off, but it’s wasn’t exactly The Ritz.

Here’s the thing: I am not a hotel snob. My favorite hotel/motel, where we stay every time we go to the coast, is solidly two star. Sure, it has cracked bathroom tile and no internet or cell service, but the towels are clean, the housekeeping crew vacuums every day, and it has a balcony that has an ocean view and easy beach access. There’s a pretty good Thai restaurant RIGHT THERE. Not to mention, it’s cheap, and cheap is good.

Did I mention no internet or cell service? Yeah, I’ve finished two books in that hotel.

So I didn’t think much of staying in a two star in Vallejo, especially since it was a brand that is usually pretty decent. You know the tier: high enough to have national exposure and advertising, but still cheap enough to be affordable for a family of four on a tight budget.

Except when we pulled in, the hotel looked a bit…murdery.

Maybe it was the chipped paint and the black smudges on the stucco. Maybe it was the fact that, when we walked in, a uniformed police officer was escorting a woman to her car in the parking lot, while she explained, in an embarrassed fashion, that “This is not normally the type of place I stay.” Perhaps it was when, as we turned to go, the hotel clerk said that the front lot–which was not the closest lot to our hotel room was “the safest place to park.”


Our non-smoking room reeked of tobacco, was dim and a little grungy. Okay fine. The bed was lumpy. Okay fine. The wrought iron fences that were supposed to fence in the downstairs patios were broken. The pool had more security than my room did. At least it pretended to have security. Sure, those gates weren’t locked either, but at least it had a gate that wasn’t unhinged. It could pretend to be secure, if it had to.

Okay, fine.

At one point, I looked over at Husband and said, “I think I got VD just walking in the bathroom! Do we have any penicillin handy?”

He was less than amused by my assessment. Hey, it’s not like we didn’t pick the place together.

In any case, we went to Six Flags, and it was really fun. We went to dinner at Applebee’s, which was good. (See, we’re big spenders. I actually really like Applebee’s). Then we came back to the hotel.

Once we went to bed, there was this blasted tapping noise in the ceiling–and we were on the top floor. It wasn’t steady enough that I could ignore it. I rolled over toward Husband and said, “Hey, someone’s Tell-Tale Heart is going off. Someone needs to shut that thing up.”

He snored in response.

The tapping… the tapping… the infernal tapping!

So I was already (still?) awake when someone tried to get into our room at 2:05 AM (yes, I checked the time. I figured it might be handy for the police report. You know, if I lived.)

Anyway, I woke Husband up. After all, he’s supposed to be the monster bait, and he was sleeping right through monster time! What good is monster bait if it isn’t actually bait?

Eventually, he got up, pounded on the door, and told them they needed to move along. In his best cop voice. They did.

Kids slept through it, though Chewey did remark on the tapping in the ceiling that went on “all night long”. Which then prompted his parents to break out into a sleep-deprived Lionel Richie rendition that made Monk groan and beg that we turn on the radio.

But, that being said, we survived the night, went to the park, went on many rides, and then drove home. Overall, a nice vacation. If you don’t count that final night in the Hotel on the Corner of Assault and Battery, a great one.

Next time, I think I’m staying in the Marriot.


The Recurring Nightmare

I’ll admit, I have a recurring nightmare, but it’s super weird. No, really. I don’t pretend to think I’m not quirky, but this dream… well, the whole thing creeps me out.

In this dream, I’m back in high school. Now, I’ll be honest, the high school years weren’t my best, but they weren’t awful, either. I was happily nerdy, had a core group of friends and a crush on a different boy each week until Junior year. Then I maintained a crush on the same guy for about a year. The whole thing was completely unrequited, and I even knew it at the time. What can I say? Hormones.

In any case, in this dream, I’m back in high school. In Advanced Algebra to be exact, a class I hated with the fire of a thousand suns. No, really. I HATED that class. Every day, I had the poop scared out of me as I walked in that room, because it made me feel stupid. In fact, I thought that if I stayed still and small and quiet, my teacher wouldn’t notice me, which is why the roof leaked on my desk for almost an entire year and I never said anything. (In my defense, it’s really dry here. Not too many rainy days = not too many days of a wet desk)

Anyway, in my dream, the teacher looks at me and asks me a question. I stare back at him, which, honestly, is what I did IRL in that class.

But here’s where it gets weird: I know the answer! I go to tell him, because for a change, I don’t look like a) an idiot or b) a selective mute. Only…nothing comes out.

Everyone is staring at me, but not because of my sudden case of mutism. I’ve also mysteriously turned into a giant cheeseburger.

I’ve got my legs and my arms and my head, and I’m unfortunately wearing parachute pants. Oy. On top of that gloriousness is beefy goodness, topped by American cheese, pickles, onions, lettuce and tomatoes. There’s some ketchup there, too. My head sits atop a sesame seed bun, and I’m wearing the coke bottle glasses I ditched two years before in favor of contact lenses.

I’m pretty certain I look delicious.

I try to stand up, but I can’t. My giant cheeseburger body is stuck in the goddamn desk.

My Algebra teacher (who I won’t name here, in the interest of protecting the innocent) says, “You know, Ms. Connors, there is only one way you can solve your problem.”

I look up, but I can’t answer. After all, I’m a giant hamburger.

“I’ll have to eat you.”

Sweet mother of God, this is SO, SO not in a good way.

I start screaming, but no sound comes out. My classmates (including guy-I-had-a-crush-on) are looking at me hungrily, and again, it’s not in a good way. I am not awesome, I am not prom queen. I am lunch.

My teacher leans in to take a bite, and… I wake up.

Now, I’ve had this dream at least once a year since I was fifteen, which means it’s been awhile. Every time, I wake up a little sweaty and creeped out. Until I remember that I am not in high school anymore (yay!) and I don’t have to take Algebra ever again (double yay!). Then I lay back and wonder: what does this mean?

I can guess what Freud would say, but if you knew my Algebra teacher, you’d realize it’s not that.

Is it some version of the “I haven’t studied for this test” dream? Because I’ve had that one, too, but I don’t think it’s as awful as the “I just turned into a hamburger, and my Algebra teacher is going to eat me” dream.

I would think it’s just a fluke, because, well, I have weird dreams. Except I keep having this dream, and it seems so…so crazy.

What about you? What crazy dreams do you have? Care to share? Come on, I can’t be alone in this… Can I?

(Heh. On a related note, WordPress thinks I need help. Its recommended tag for this post? Psychology.)