Tuesday, July 21, 2015

Road Trips: One She'll Never Forget


A Trip I’ll Never Forget
by Harriet Michael


Born in the jungles of the Niger River Delta, my memories of family road trips are filled with adventure. My parents were missionaries to Nigeria, West Africa in the late 1950’s and early 1960’s. Road trips back then involved packing lunches, and drinks because there were no restaurants along the way. No, our roads had only bush, small villages, and more bush. Bush was the term for the Nigerian landscape.

Though we could sometimes fill our tanks with petrol, as it was called, the petrol stations did not have bathrooms. So, the bush was used for both our bathroom stops as well as lunch stops. But nothing is quite as wonderful as stopping along the side of a rural African road, parking under a lush tree, getting out of a hot car that had no air conditioning, and lunching on tomato sandwiches, peanuts, bananas, and cold Kool-Aid, from an ice chest. 

Most of my childhood road trips were hot. But there was one exception. Once when my father was traveling home from a preaching engagement with my little sister and me along for the ride; a rock from the dirt road flicked into our windshield. This was before the days of shatterproof glass and the rock shattered our windshield. Fearing glass would blow onto us as we traveled the rest of the way home, my dad stopped and carefully removed the entire windshield, one little piece at a time. 

This would have been a good idea, except for the fact that it was rainy season. Sure enough a sudden rain storm blew up and my father had to drive with the rain pouring in on him. He told my sister and me to get in the floor of the back seat so the front seats would partially block the incoming water. I remember thinking it was one of the grandest adventures I had ever experienced. My sister and I hunched down in the back, each behind a seat and giggled at each other as the water pooled at our feet. I don’t think it was as much fun for my poor dad though. He drove slowly on ahead in spite of the rain in his face. When we arrived home, we took warm baths and then my mom made hot cocoa. That too was an adventure! I had never had hot cocoa in Africa before ... or since.


****


Born in Nigeria, West Africa, as the daughter of missionaries, Harriet E. Michael is a writer, gardener, wife of over 35 years, mother of four, and grandmother of one.
She holds a BS in nursing from West Virginia University but has discovered her passion for writing. Since her first published article in 2010, she now has over a hundred and fifty published articles and devotions. 

Harriet is a member of American Christian Fiction Writers and Louisville Christian Writers. Her book, “Prayer: It’s Not About You,”a finalist in the 2011 Women of Faith book contest, is set for release in September, 2015 by Pix-N-Pens Publishing Company.

Follow her on:

Website
Facebook
Blog






Monday, July 20, 2015

The Wackiest Trip Ever

I have to agree with this headline ...

The Wackiest Trip Ever
by Deanna Klingel


I’ve been traveling with my books nearly every week for five years. But this is the wackiest trip I’ve taken yet.

I leave home with my Rand McNally Atlas, print out of my destination’s website, MapQuest directions and my GPS all in agreement. I’m going to Fairview, in Northern Kentucky, an hour north of Lexington on U.S. 68, to the Jefferson Davis Monument State Historic Site where I’ll sign books beside the 350 foot obelisk monument. 

Have you heard of the annual 500 mile long yard sale? It’s on U.S. 68, and it’s today. Every home, business, church and farm has set up a sale along the road. U.S. 68, a two-lane highway with a double yellow line, has berms as wide as driving lanes lined with parked cars. Shoppers dash across the highway carrying lamps and ladders. Chairs are lashed to the roofs of cars; family pets wander back and forth.

After several miles I suddenly see Welcome to Fairview. I’m in an Amish farm community. Ladies in bonnets sort through the dishes, boys in blue ironed shirts, black pants with suspenders, peddle their bikes in the highway. Teenage girls load their buggies. In the fields men and their horses work the dirt. There are no brown and white state park signs. There is no 350 foot obelisk. Thank you for visiting Fairview.

A mile further up the road I see a state park sign, but not the one I’m hoping for. Surely a ranger there can tell me where to find a 350 foot monument in their neighborhood?

“No ma’am. We got nothing like that around here.”

“Is it possible there are two Fairviews?” I ask.

“Oh no. Not possible. It’s ag’in the law. Can’t have two with the same name in the same state. Uh uh. Nope.” It’s true, I remember, Rand McNally only lists one Fairview, Kentucky.

“Is this your zipcode?” I point to MapQuest.

“No. It isn’t.”

“I guess I need to call this other park ranger and see where he’s hanging out today.” The guy looks like I just woke him up. Oh! Park Ranger! “I can help!” His park brochures are not in a rack or alphabetized. They are all in a wash tub. Together. He sifts through them and eventually finds one that says Jefferson Davis. “Looks promising,” I say. We turn it over where the locator map indicates it’s in the far southwest corner of Kentucky. Another Fairview. Five hours away.

Gladys, my GPS navigator, is not leaving. She insists we have reached our destination. I trick her by keying in a town close to the second Fairview. Okay, she says, get back on U. S. 68, and the fun continues. After many miles of roadside sales we leave U. S. 68 to travel the Bluegrass Parkway and later the Western Kentucky Parkway. Now, we’re back on U. S. 68 again. I’m blinking, taking it all in: ladies in bonnets, boys in blue shirts on bikes, girls in buggies, farmers plowing with horses. I have a sinking feeling. There’s that little sign…again…Welcome to Fairview. I dare to think how this could happen. Was it the Parkways in the wrong direction? Did I really drive in a circle? But no, my dashboard reveals I’m still traveling SW. Suddenly, rising out of a wheat field in front of me, a 350 foot obelisk.  This really is the other Fairview.

But not the one where I have a hotel reservation.


Both Fairview, Kentuckys are on U.S. 68, both are State Park sites, five hours apart, the rangers aren’t aware of each other. Both are rural Amish farm communities that look just alike, (except for a 350 foot obelisk) including their identical welcome signs. Both are exactly six hours from my home in different directions.  I don’t think there’s an obelisk in the Twilight Zone. But, maybe.


****

Deanna K. Klingel writes primarily for a Young Adult and Children's Literature market. She's also been published in anthologies, short stories and poetry. She collaborated with Write Integrity authors on The Christmas Tree Treasure Hunt. Her books include: Just for the Moment: The Remarkable Gift of the Therapy Dog, Avery's Battlefield, Avery's Crossroad, Bread Upon the Water, Cracks in the Ice, Rock and a Hard Place a Lithuanian Love Story, Amanda and the Lazy Garden Fairy, Beth's Birds, and The Mysterious Life of Jim Limber. Several have received awards or acknowledgements.

Deanna and her husband Dave have seven grown children raising their children across the Southeast. Deanna and Dave make their home in North Carolina.







Friday, July 10, 2015

Road Trips: Her Poor Brother!

My Poor Brother!
by Harriet Michael

The Nigerian roads I grew up accustomed to were usually unpaved, bumpy, and challenging. Memories of strange and interesting occurrences traveling those roads flood my mind when I think of my childhood road trips.

There was the time we headed north on our local leave (the term the missionaries used for vacation.) Traffic came to a stand still at the old Jebba Bridge. This was before it was replaced in the 1970’s with a four lane bridge much better equipped to handle traffic flow. Back then it was a long two lane bridge over the beautiful Niger River. After waiting for over an hour, my father walked ahead to see if he could get a closer look and discover the problem. After a while he returned and informed us that a group of nomad cattlemen had been walking their herd over the bridge when a cow died. They were in the process of dragging the dead cow off and then trying to get the rest of the herd across and, well, that takes time.

Other road trips were memorable for better reasons. My father stopped once when he spied a beautiful wild orchid in full bloom growing near the road. The whole family piled out of the car to marvel at its beauty.

But usually, trips were long, hot, and uncomfortable. The worst was a time my family’s trip involved covering extremely difficult terrain. Mom and Dad sat in the front and my siblings and I in the back with my brother by the window. After a while, my younger sister, who was prone to motion sickness, felt nausea coming on. She stretched her body across my brother trying to get her head to the window but did not quite make it and threw up on him.

We stopped the car. My parents gave my sick sister Dramamine, cleaned him as best as they could and moved her to the front seat with them. We piled back on the road, my brother still claiming the window. But in a bit, we had Act II when feeling sick, my older sister tried to put her head out his window but also did not make it.

Again we stopped. After cleaning both of them and giving her Dramamine too, we started out again with my brother announcing that he wanted me next to him because I never got motion sickness. His statement was true–except for that one time. Soon enough we had Act III with me trying to reach his window and not making it.

Then we rearranged the seating yet again. This time my parents decided to put all three sick, sleepy girls in the back and let my brother sit in the front between them. On his lap, he held the family dog which he had held most of the trip. Guess what happened next? Soon, the dog got sick on my brother too.

It was not funny at the time but it has been a hilarious family tale ever since. We still laugh at the time everyone including the dog got sick on my poor brother.


****


Born in Nigeria, West Africa, as the daughter of missionaries, Harriet E. Michael is a writer, gardener, wife of over 35 years, mother of four, and grandmother of one.

She holds a BS in nursing from West Virginia University but has discovered her passion for writing. Since her first published article in 2010, she now has over a hundred and fifty published articles and devotions.

Harriet is a member of American Christian Fiction Writers and Louisville Christian Writers. Her book, “Prayer: It’s Not About You,”a finalist in the 2011 Women of Faith book contest, is set for release in September, 2015 by Pix-N-Pens Publishing Company.

Follow her on:

WebsiteFacebookBlog








More from the Authors of Unlikely Merger:

Thursday, July 9

Write Integrity Press: The Road Trip Miracle

Wednesday, July 8


Jennifer Hallmark: Interviewed by Janet K. Brown

Tuesday, July 7

Write Integrity Press: Three People on a Journey

Monday, July 6

Sunday, July 5

Write Integrity Press: Summer Recipes SweetPepper Relish

Saturday, July 4:

Write Integrity Press: Summer Recipes Keeping it Simple


Monday, June 29:
            




Thursday, July 9, 2015

The Road Trip Miracle

Today, we welcome Joan Deneve sharing one of her road trip adventures.

The Road Trip Miracle
by Joan Deneve

I’m afraid to fly. There. I said it. And your well-meaning platitudes or statistics of how much more likely I am to die in a car crash won’t sway me. My husband is actually a pilot, and he gave up a long time ago. So don’t even try.

Besides, my husband loves road trips as much as I do. At least, he says he does. Maybe it’s because he loves me and gets a big kick out of seeing me jump over hedges to claim the front seat the minute he jangles the keys. Okay. Slight exaggeration. But you get the point.

There’s something about gassing up the car and stockpiling junk food the night before. We usually leave before the sun comes up. I stumble bleary eyed to the car and make my nest complete with pillow, blanket, and carry-on bag loaded with things to amuse me.

But I never seem to dig anything out of the bag. Except food, of course. I usually don’t even make it out of the city limits before ripping into the bags of chocolate. Or the gummy worms. Then when we cross the county line, I rummage for the chips to get the sweet taste out of my mouth. Thus, the whole trip is a vicious contest of sweet versus salty.

But the magazines or books never make it out of the bag. The trip is amusement enough. Like the first streaks of the sunrise. Or a bird swooping down on a lake.

Even on a road I’ve traveled a hundred times, I won’t read or let myself go to sleep. I’m afraid I’ll miss something.

And the best thing about a road trip? Time. Glorious time. A precious and rare commodity meant to be treasured and appreciated. Road trips are God’s little time-outs: To ponder the meaning of life or to mull over a problem like your tongue worries a sore spot in your mouth. 

It’s also a great time to pray. And if you’re paying attention, you might even get a road trip miracle.

My husband and I were traveling back from a weekend trip. We were both enjoying the companionable silence, lost in our own thoughts. It was almost dusk in late January. Cold, dreary. I stared to my right, past my own faint reflection to the blurred images of the bare trees whizzing by. 

My mind drifted to the passage I’d read that morning from one of my favorite chapters in the Bible. John 11. It’s the story of how Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead. One phrase played like a broken record in my mind. “Now Jesus loved Martha, and her sister, and Lazarus.”

I pondered that for a few miles. How special, to have it documented in black and white that Jesus did in fact love these three people. And like a needy child, my heart cried out to Jesus and I said something like this: “I know you’re real, and I know you love me. I really do know that, but sometimes I really wish I had it written down. Not just to the whole world, but singled out, to me personally.”

It wasn’t a real prayer. More like a wish. I remember I was looking down at the floorboard when I was thinking those thoughts. And the moment I raised my eyes, a billboard to my left, across the median lit up as dusk settled into night. And the only three words on the billboard were JESUS LOVES YOU.

My mouth gaped open. I stared even as my vision blurred with unshed tears. We passed the sign, and I craned my neck around to keep it in my sight as long as I could. And I could feel Jesus smiling.

I gasped to my husband, “You’ll never guess what Jesus did for me just now.”

My husband, now hungry, disregarded the wonder in my voice and replied, “Do you think this is the exit to Shoney’s?”

Not to be deterred, I repeated more emphatically, “I just told Jesus I wish I had it in writing that He loved me, and there was this sign back there. Didn’t you see it?”

He barely shook his head. “I’m taking this exit. I think there’s a Shoney’s up here on the right.”

“Honey,” I angled my body toward him. “It was like I got my own personal sign from Jesus telling me He loved me. Don’t you see how special that was?”

“Ah. There it is.” He turned down the service road to Shoney’s and then replied, “Honey, I don’t need a sign to know Jesus loves me.”

Okay. I’ll give him that. Maybe I don’t need a sign either. But it’s nice to know that sometimes God goes out of His way to orchestrate the mundane details of our lives to let us know He’s listening and that He loves us.

And if you’re ever riding south on I-65 from Huntsville to Montgomery, Alabama, you might just see my sign. It’s okay. I’ll share it with you, 'cause He loves you too.


****

Joan Deneve teaches English in a Christian school and has a passion to help young people fall in love with Jesus and equip them to become all God wants them to be. Joan began her walk as a Christian when she accepted Christ as her savior two weeks before her sixteenth birthday. She graduated from Tennessee Temple Bible College in 1975.

Joan and Rene’, her best friend and husband of forty-plus years, reside in Prattville, Alabama, a charming city in the Heart of Dixie. They count their son and daughter, son-in-law, and seven phenomenal grandchildren to be their greatest blessings on earth.

Joan enjoys time well-spent with family and friends, but finds equal joy in quiet moments of solitude on her back porch. There, surrounded by bluebirds and yellow butterflies, she began writing her debut novel, Saving Eric, which was published earlier this year by Pix-N-Pens.

An active member of her church, Joan enjoys singing in the choir. She is a member of American Christian Fiction Writers and is currently working on the second book in the Redeemed Side of Love Series. She enjoys chatting with fellow writers and readers.


Saving Eric


More from the Authors of Unlikely Merger:
99 Cents on Kindle

Wednesday, July 8

Jennifer Hallmark: Interviewed by Janet K. Brown

Tuesday, July 7

Write Integrity Press: Three People on a Journey

Monday, July 6

Write Integrity Press: If I Could Take Three People on Vacation

Sunday, July 5

Write Integrity Press: Summer Recipes SweetPepper Relish

Saturday, July 4:

Write Integrity Press: Summer Recipes Keeping it Simple


Monday, June 29:
            





Wednesday, July 8, 2015

An Adventure with the Heroines



Today, Elizabeth Noyes shares her response to "If you could take three people on a summer vacation, you'd take ... [and Tracy would change the rules and beg to go on this adventure with them!]



A Vacation Adventure with TJ, Lucy, and Shea
by Elizabeth Noyes


I’ve vacationed with family and friends many times. That’s always fun. And I love traveling with my honey. In fact, we have a couple of more lovely trips planned in the near future. So, being a writer and lover of fiction, who else would I want to have an adventure with than three of my heroines from the Imperfect Series!


Trouble magnets, that’s what I call them—TJ (the heroine from Book 1), Lucy (making her debut in Book 2), and Shea (who’s been mentioned in the first two books, but will take center stage in Book 4). Those three embody all the spirit, courage, brokenness, and sass hidden in every woman. Imagine what fun we would have visiting Idaho and teaming up with the Cameron women—Cate, Mallory, and Cassidy. We’d go rafting on the Salmon River, horseback riding along the Lost River Valley, hiking in the mountains, fishing, kayaking, and we’d be sure to find our own kind of trouble, knowing the hunky men of the Triple C Ranch are just waiting for an opportunity to come to rescue—not that we’d need them. Yeah, that’s definitely on my bucket list.



Imperfect Wings
Available Now - Print and Kindle
Imperfect Trust
Releases Next Week!
          

Elizabeth Noyes is a native of the Deep South and claims to still "speak the language," even after traveling around the world for most of her adult life. She and her husband now live in the eastern suburbs of Atlanta where she works full time as a professional writer and editor for a privately owned company. "It can be a challenge finding enough time to squeeze in church, family, work, grandkids, friends, AND find time to write," she says. "Somehow, though, the balance always comes."


Her favorite things include reading across many genres, playing bridge with dear friends, crocheting, baking, country music, and her three precocious and gorgeous grandkids.
Using ideas from the thousands of books she's devoured provides great opportunity to mix and match plots, flawed characters, and locales she's visited to create her own unique stories, settings, and characters. "There's a whole host of heroes and heroines prancing around in my head, each one clamoring for their story to be told."
Her first published work, A Dozen Apologies, released on Valentine's Day 2014, is a collaborative effort involving 12 authors, each contributing one character and one chapter. Elizabeth's hero, Elliott Weston, was chosen by online readers as the guy who got the girl in the end. This anonymous vote allowed Elizabeth the honor of penning the final chapter.
Her first novel in the Imperfect Series, Imperfect Wings, was a CAT 5 winner in the 2013 Writers on the Storm contest. This action-packed, full-length romantic thriller takes you from the jungles of Honduras to the mountainous beauty of Idaho and finally to the polished red oak confines of a U.S. District court in Virginia.




More from the Authors of Unlikely Merger:
FREE on Kindle
July 1-5

Wednesday, July 8

Jennifer Hallmark: Interviewed by Janet K. Brown

Tuesday, July 7

Write Integrity Press: Three People on a Journey

Monday, July 6

Write Integrity Press: If I Could Take Three People on Vacation

Sunday, July 5

Write Integrity Press: Summer Recipes SweetPepper Relish

Saturday, July 4:

Write Integrity Press: Summer Recipes Keeping it Simple


Monday, June 29:
            

Sunday, June 28:


Tuesday, July 7, 2015

Three People on a Journey

Unlikely Merger is now available and it's on sale for 99 cents!

We recently provided a writing prompt to our authors: If you could take three people on summer vacation, you'd take [who] and [why]. We told them they could take real or fictional people, from the past, present, or future.

Today, Marji Laine shares her thoughts:

Three People on the Journey
by Marji Laine


If I could take 3 people on a trip with me, I’d bring my sweet hubby, my brother, and my sis-in-law. And it’s not just because they’re family. Bubba and my Hubby are very close. Bubba’s wife and I were roommates in college and are still best friends.

And, in truth, we’ve vacationed several times together, laughing for miles over the silliest things like business signs, trivia questions, and any abnormal fellow traveler we might see along the way. Not unlike the road trips with my girls.


Again, in this case, it’s the journey and the companions that make the trip fun. With such wonderful people with me, the destination doesn’t even matter.

****

Marji Laine is a wife and homeschooling mom with teenage twins left in the nest. Having just released her debut novella Grime Beat, she spends her non-writing time transporting to and from volleyball, directing high school classes at a local coop, and leading the children’s music program at her church. From suburban Dallas, she loves to create scintillating suspense with a side of Texas sassy. She invites readers to unravel their inspiration, seeking a deeper knowledge of the Lord’s Great Mystery that invites us all.








Monday, June 29:
            

Sunday, June 28:


Monday, July 6, 2015

If I Could Take Three People on Summer Vacation

Unlikely Merger is now available and it's on sale for 99 cents!

We recently provided a writing prompt to our authors: If you could take three people on summer vacation, you'd take [who] and [why]. We told them they could take real or fictional people, from the past, present, or future.

Today, Betty Thomason Owens gives us her response.

If I Could Take Three People on Summer Vacation
by Betty Thomason Owens

If I could take three people on summer vacation, I’d take …

If I could take three people on a summer vacation, I'd take my husband, my mom, and Dad to Seattle and surrounds. I'd want my best friend and husband of forty years with me, because it just wouldn't be fun without him and he loves the area. My mother grew up in Seattle and Dad always regretted never taking her to visit. We wouldn't fly, because Mom has difficulty with the altitude thing, so we'd rent a luxurious RV and make it a fun road trip. This is fantasy, right? So I can afford a luxurious RV and an extended vacation.

Upon arrival in Seattle, we'd visit all the places my mother remembers from her childhood. We'd sip coffee at Tully's downtown and stroll over to Pike's Place Market. We'd sit on the wharf and have a bowl of fresh clam chowder.

Afterward, we'd visit her cousins who live in a beautiful log cabin near Edgewood. The views of Rainier are amazing in that area. We'd visit Rainier National Park then stop at the fruit stands and eat fresh cherries--because of course it would be cherry season.

A ferry would then transport us to the San Juan Islands in the Puget Sound. We'd visit Friday Harbor and Orcas Island, do some whale watching, and climb Mt. Constitution.

After we'd seen everything Mom wanted to see, we'd head back to Kentucky, where she now lives alone, in a one-bedroom apartment. Dad's been gone for eight years. But it sure would be nice to visit with him and make an old dream come true for the both of them.

****

Betty Thomason Owens writes romantic comedy, historical fiction, and fantasy-adventure. She has contributed hundreds of articles and interviews to various blogs around the Internet and is an active member of American Christian Fiction Writers (ACFW), where she leads a critique group. She’s also a mentor, assisting other writers. She is a co-founder of a blog dedicated to inspiring writers, and a contributing editor for the online magazine, Imaginate.


Her 20’s era romance, Amelia's Legacy, Book One in the Legacy Series, released October, 2014 (Write Integrity Press). She also writes contemporary stories as a co-author of A Dozen Apologies and its sequels, The Love Boat Bachelor and Unlikely Merger. She has two fantasy-adventure novels, The Lady of the Haven and A Gathering of Eagles, in a second edition published by Sign of the Whale BooksTM, an imprint of Olivia Kimbrell PressTM.


Write Integrity released her latest book last month: Annabelle's Ruth is a 1950’s historical novel inspired by the Book of Ruth, Book One of the Kinsman Redeemer Series.


You can connect with Betty on her personal webpage, Twitter, Facebook, Pinterest, and at Writing Prompts & Thoughts & Ideas…Oh My!



Available on Kindle and in paperback at Amazon
and most booksellers by request.
 




Monday, June 29:
            

Sunday, June 28: