Friday, September 22, 2017

Friday Mish Mash

Greetings from the Hermit Writer. Because of the heat, and Irma, and her debris, I haven't been on a PBWA (photography by walking around). So I thought I would share some old favorites. Hope you enjoy.

Arguing mates. 

A pair of lovelies on a thistle

Sunrise from Ballast Point, Tampa

Hillsborough R taken from the bridge, during a bicycle ride

Sparrows are one of my favorite Myakka River SP

Enjoying the setting sun on the causeway, Tampa Bay

The yard of an abandoned property in Pasco, County...taken during a bike ride.

Wednesday, September 13, 2017

Hurricane Irma is History...

...and thankfully the Wheeler clan is well and good. Irma stayed over land and calmed more than expected, from a cat 3 to a cat 2. But even with that, we were amazingly left whole. We expected devastation. 12 of my Tampa neighbors lost their homes through fallen that number again...12...not 120,000. Dina says it was prayers. I'm good with that.

In joy I share yesterday's view, the same angle I took Saturday night as Irma neared...and am full of joy all those limbs (for the most part) are still up there. Lots of debris. But the house is whole. And the pups and I survived. All good news.

Note the sound of the generators in the background. Most of the 'hood' got their electric back on at 2:30 this AM. Many neighbors weren't so lucky. They are on lines downed by a tree up the street. My heart and prayers for all who lived through what could have been a much worse storm.

Saturday, September 9, 2017

Irma Is Coming

Last time I posted, we expected Hurricane Irma to track up the East Coast of Florida. We woke this morning to a West Coast track...right over my home of Tampa. As my neighbor said, "Irma is going to be redrawing this part of Florida," and there will be a lot of us without homes in 30 hours or so.

I put my foot down and sent Dina to stay with friends on the East Coast. I'm hunkering down since not much I can do with two fifty pound dogs. I look up at the giant oaks surrounding my house, and I'm not embarrassed to say I'm worried.

Maybe pray for us, if you believe.

So here are some snaps from a paddle I took on Monday

On the south side of the river

On the north side of the river

Love the deadwood poking out.

Friday, September 8, 2017

Just Foolin' Around

Greetings from the very-worried Hermit Writer. (Irma is coming)

Prayers for the Seaboard

Sunday, September 3, 2017


This is a self-published novel? I don’t give 5 stars . . . I just don’t. Couldn’t say I ever have. Probably have, but it’s been a long time. I gave this 5 stars. Eve Silver’s writing is criminally intense and absorbing. If you enjoy the genre (demigods and reapers) you will love this. Guaranteed. Just see what NYT had to say:

“Darkly delicious, savagely beautiful, fiercely seductive—SINS OF THE HEART sets the new gold standard in paranormal romance. This story will ravish you. Simply put, Eve Silver owns me.” —New York Times

Best part. Right now it is freeeeee on Amazon [click here]


Wednesday, August 30, 2017

Started a New Novel

Greetings from the Hermit Writer.

I had been working on the fourth volume in my Shadows series for twice what it takes me usually to complete a manuscript. I decided Monday it just wasn't going...anywhere.

So I started on a sequel to my kick butt dead maybe which I just finished reading/editing to get my head into the character and her world. (I really recommend dead maybe. It is non-stop action."

So what do you think about the start of just dead...

Chapter 1
I put a big hurt in the Miami crime scene without having to torture, kill, even manhandle a single scumbag. I can manhandle a guy. At 5 feet and a few inches, I won’t say how many exactly, a man doesn’t want to have to face me even if I look somewhat dainty, because I don’t fight fair. No one has ever called me a lady, and never will.
Since I was three years old I had been tutored to analyze data. I didn’t start with stacking blocks like most kids. Fun was fingering a bullet with my eyes closed to determine its caliber. I learned to count by .22, .25, .38, .44, .45.
Lifting a wallet from inside a man’s jacket was recess at four. Jamming a stiletto in an eye socket to end a fight was biology at five. By six I could lead a symposium on the human pain centers. At seven I had my first martial arts black belt.
I was twenty-nine before a human hugged me, touched me with compassion. Just weeks before that I learned my true birthdate, my last name wasn’t Morgan, and the miserable bitch that had kept me locked in a cold Chicago basement my whole life was actually my mother.
She was knocked up at fourteen by a priest she probably hounded for years, before he took her behind some alter. A mob assassin since she was fifteen.
So I have an excuse for my antisocial behavior. When I kill someone I don’t feel much at the time, but I tend to throw up afterward, so even if I can’t smile to save the world, I don’t think I’m a complete sociopath. 

Tuesday, August 29, 2017

A Wander about During a Break in the Rain

Greetings from the Hermit Writer.

Focus #1

Focus #2

My Sweetiepie, Sissy

I love flutterbys

Future buds

I love the ants, harvesting

Sissy, checking out the scents

Artsy storm debris

Monday, August 28, 2017

Sunday, August 27, 2017

On the Little Manatee River

Greetings from the Hermit Writer.

Iris' older brother Jacob above the mangrove

Artsy fartsy shot of a boat

We have wild grapes. Oh. Ah.

A gentle hello from Mother.

I love clouds.

Any blur in the sky attracts my attention.

Oh. Ah. Wish it could have rained a bit. It was hot paddling that kayak.

Saturday, August 26, 2017

The Neighborhood

Greetings from the Hermit Writer.

Looking into the dark of the mangrove swamp. There be monsters in there. (Just kidding)

Swooshing by me as though I was invisible

Iris the adolescent Ibis said, "Take my left. My left is better."

"No. No. Take my right. I look better from the right."

Larry's second cousin on Uncle Ruffus' side, Lucy, dropped in