We have a fabulous Hodge Podge of articles for you this month beginning with some suggestions on how to balance a busy life with doing what you love. While we all have responsibilities in life, it is very important that we invest in a little self-care too. This means finding time to do the things you love as it will nourish your soul.

We also have several articles dealing with writing and a the second installment of Unbreakable, our featured fiction piece.

We, the editors, hope you enjoy what we've put together for you and we'll see you again next month!

J.C. Wilder, Managing Editor

Bring on Spring!

Anya Delvay

I stopped making New Year’s resolutions a few years ago. In a world where we are constantly told we should strive to be better, it was just more pressure. And self-inflicted pressure at that. But recently I’ve found myself looking in the mirror and wondering…should I be more concerned with some of those things society says are so important? Should I be working out, using the miracle face creams, eating less of what I like, making more money, saving for retirement? Should I also be Supermom, Hot Tamale and BFF, while creating gourmet dinners for twenty, complete with handmade place cards and floral decorations?

After a few weeks of sleeping with my teeth clenched, counting each new wrinkle and discovering a gray hair in my eyebrow, I decided, enough is enough. Spring is coming, and it’s time to do some real spring cleaning. Instead of making resolutions when it’s cold and gloomy and hard to keep them, I’m starting a new tradition: Spring Resolutions.

(No more clenched teeth!)

Balance and the Busy Writer

Traci Hall

I worked at a regular job once. Monday through Friday, 8 to 6, weekends off. I got stuff accomplished, and I think I even had evenings free. Where did that woman who could bring home the bacon, drop off the dry cleaning and get a weekly manicure go?

She hasn’t been around since my second child started middle school and I decided to be a full-time writer. Routine is a thing of the past. I think of it with the same longing a pregnant woman has for triple chocolate fudge with sprinkles. If I could just find the key to maintaining order, then I know I could be more together. I could write while sitting in the stands during my daughter’s band competition, or promo while stuffing goody bags for a fundraiser. And maybe cut bookmarks while whipping up a gourmet dinner!

Who am I kidding? My organizational skills leave a lot to be desired. Filing is tossing the bills in a shoebox already bursting with opened envelopes. Piles of paper lean precariously to one side, proudly defying the law of gravity. I loved the idea of a sock basket so much that I did it with flip-flops too—occasionally we get out of the house with one purple and one navy blue sandal, but it doesn’t happen as often as it could.

(More!)

Ten Reasons Why Childbirth is Better Than a Broken Leg

Christine Norris

I love winter. To me, the colder it gets, the better I like it. You can always put more clothes on to get warm, right? In the summer, however, you can only take off so much before you get arrested. Nope, despite being born in the middle of the hottest month of the year, winter is the time for me. Except this year. This year I could have lived without it.

This past January, I was outside playing with my two-year-old son during the biggest storm of the season. It was late afternoon, it had been snowing all day, and there was a good eight to ten inches on the ground. Ryan begged me to take him outside before dinner. My husband had just left after stopping by home for a brief break from snowplowing for the town where we live. Against my better judgment, I bundled Ryan and myself up, and out into the storm we went.

(Bring on the da snow!)

Balancing Act

Donica Covey

The alarm goes off at 5:30. You jump up, grab your coffee and then run and wake the kids on your way to jumping into the shower long enough to get your hair wet. Then you’re dragging on your clothes while shouting at little Johnny to quit feeding his oatmeal to the dog.

Susie needs her hair brushed and braided. One hand holds the brush and between strokes in the silky mass of a little girl’s hair, you apply your makeup. Finally, the kids are dressed and ready. You grab their lunches and shuttle them off to school on your way to hustle into work.

You spend the day groaning under your boss’s mandates. More work. This project can use your special touch. On and on it goes for eight hours. Then you rush home to find the kids have been fighting. You separate them and suddenly Johnny says “Scouts tonight.” Damn. You’d forgotten. You run to the meeting, and your mind is swirling with What am I going to do about dinner?

(I'm slipping!)

Spring Cleaning - Who said it has to involve brooms?

By Stacia Wolf

Every year, I get the cleaning bug. The snow’s melting, my new bulbs are emerging and this makes me want everything to be fresh and green. So of course, the house is getting spruced up, inside and out. New curtains, fresh spring flowers and even a tree for the yard.

There’s another type of spring cleaning I go through every year. This is a personal type, and is both difficult and easy.

I take a look at me and decide what needs ‘sprucing up’. This might be as simple as a haircut, which, by the way, I’m going to tackle. Or as difficult as my exercise or diet program. Or it might be something fun and exciting—a new hobby, a class, something that fascinates or invigorates me.

(No Brooms Here!)

May Contest Winner

And the winner of a free Samhain Publishing ebook download is: deborahkgranger

Life's Little Handbook

Donica Covey

When my kids were small, my husband worked full-time at a financial institution and I worked two full-time jobs. I was an EMT on the local fire and rescue department and I worked as a security guard.

I was promoted in my two careers to lieutenant on the fire department and supervisor at the security position. The kids were wonderful but I didn’t see much of them. Then one day I began having health issues. I couldn’t focus, I had seizures and eventually had to give up the two careers I adored. I battled depression while learning how to be a stay-at-home mom.

(Help!)

The First Everything

Ciar Cullen

Bet you don’t know who invented the condom! (Hint: they were leather!) We don’t know the fella or gal’s name, but it seems they were around in ancient times and probably hailed from those frisky Egyptians.

Who invented the first two-wheeled, gas-powered motorcycle? His name was Daimler (and if you own a Chrysler, you recognize this name). It was in the later 1800s.

With a background in archaeology, I’m fascinated with firsts. It’s a prerequisite for the field. First pottery, first agriculture, first domestication of animals and other equally important and somewhat boring topics.

(I wannt be first!)

Why E-Books

N.J. Walters

Like most readers, I love the feel of a book in my hands, the quiet swish of a page as you turn it and the satisfaction of closing the cover when I finish.

Yet, I love e-books too. Why?

Because e-books are immediate. If I can't make it to the bookstore, I have immediate access to books. And not just one kind of book, but books of all genres. There are romances with all heat levels, science fiction, paranormals, fantasies and mysteries.

(e-Books)

The Whirlwind Romance

Larissa Ione

Every year, I can’t help but watch American Idol. The show is more than singing (sometimes badly), Simon’s insults and Paula’s incoherent ramblings. What always fascinates me is the way the contestants bond.

A couple of seasons ago, there was a scene in which two girls were hugging and crying, one having made the finals, the other having gotten the boot. My son watched that scene skeptically, asking why they were so upset. I told him the girls were good friends and that one had to go home.

He said, “But how can they be good friends? They’ve only been together for a few days.”

(We luv romance...)

Getting in the Mood

Vonna Harper

I write erotica.

Yeah, so?

Okay, I thought the same thing back when my only connection to the, then new, world of erotica came from reading those books. Well, to be honest, my reaction was a far cry from a shrug and a, "Yeah, so?". Reading erotica turned me on. Hey, I really didn't expect that. After all, I've written romance, suspense and historicals and none of those genres kicked me. Category romance didn't get me all hot and bothered, I didn't go around locking the doors while working on suspense and I didn't dress in period costume as I pounded out my historicals.

(I'm feeling moody!)

It's All About the Emotions-or-Why Should I Care?

Marianne Arkins

Recently I’ve been working with several romance writers, helping critique and edit their work. Some are newbies, some previously published. And with only one or two exceptions, despite an interesting storyline and decent writing, I find myself either frustrated or bored.

Before I go any further, let me say that I make no claims to being the world’s best author, but I am a prolific reader and I certainly know what I like to read. I was a reader long before I wrote a word, and I know what grabs me. I know what holds me down, unmoving and fascinated, until I’ve turned the very last page

Why was I bored with those other works? What is it that I’m talking about?

(I do care!)

Glorious Gems

B.Ella Donna

The mystical properties of gemstones have been sought after and treasured throughout history. They have been found in ruins as far back as several thousand years. They are treasured as gifts symbolizing love, for protection and even to ward off drunkenness.

The Native American medicine men, used pyrite, or fools gold, as talismans in the course of a variety of incantations. It is also believed that the Chinese symbol for the earth—a gold square—has been derived from pyrite.

The descendents of the Incas, in the Andes, still believe that the blood of their ancient kings turned into stone where the rhodochrosite mine was found. Rhodochrosite is the most powerful love stone. It draws into the wearer the sense of unconditional love, love for the self, love for the planet and love for mankind.

(Whoa, shiny things...)

Mel’s Movie Review - Brats: Our Journey Home

Melissa Schroeder

“Most people have a place they think of as home. But for some, it isn’t a place, but a state of mind.”

Kris Kristofferson starts off the first ever independent documentary about life as a military child with what many of us use as a mantra in everyday life. Donna Musil directed this in depth look at just what it means to be a brat, our preferred term for ourselves, and just how it affects you as an adult.

Through conversations with military brats from every service, and from several different time eras, the viewer gets a glimpse into the secret world. Included in the film are several well known former brats, including Kris Kristofferson (whose father was an AF general) and Gen. Schwarzkopf, who spent time as a youngster and then a father in the military. Various subjects are covered from the most inane, housing and shopping, to the stresses each military family has to deal with.

(Movies!)

FICTION: Unbreakable, Part II

Mary Eason

“I’m fine,” Carrie Sierra stammered once more while trying to erase the image of a dream with him standing before her naked body…lying in her bed…

He took a step closer. “Then maybe you’d better tell me who you are and what the hell you’re doing interfering with a confidential investigation.”

The concern she’d seen in his eyes a moment earlier evaporated into hard speculation.

“Investigation? How did you know about the investigation?” Carrie stopped when she realized she’d given away far too much already just by being here.

Who was this guy…

“Who are you, and how do you have knowledge about an FBI investigation.”

“FBI investigation!” both the stranger and the kid behind the counter blurted out at the same time.

“How did you know this was a Bureau investigation, miss?”

Carrie shook her head. Was he nuts? “I’m calling my superior right now.”

“Good, you do that, and I’ll call Director Hernandez who is in charge of this investigation and you can explain to both of us why a local cop is interfering in a high-level stakeout in the first place.”

Director Hernandez? How the hell did he know the name of her commanding officer?

He retrieved his phone from the pocket of his jeans and began dialing.

“Local cop?” Who was he calling a local. “And how do you know Denny?” Carrie reached for his arm, forcing his gaze to hers. Their eyes locked. The room around them shrunk to nothing. Unasked questions, along with speculation, lay heavy between them.

“What stakeout? Look, man, I don’t know what you think you’re doing here, but whatever the Feds think is going on in here, I don’t know anything about it.”

Carrie’s forced her gaze away from the stranger to the kid. The clerk knew too much. Denny would be furious.

The stranger picked up her purse and headed for the door. “Let’s take this outside.” He threw the kid a pointed look.

“Fine,” Carrie ground out, then followed him out into the muggy D.C. night. Once they were some distance away from the coffeehouse, she stopped walking and waited for him to do the same.

He came to a halt a few feet away from her, crossed his arms over his broad chest, and waited for her to speak.

Good God, even angry the man looked good. “You have exactly two minutes to tell me how you have knowledge of a Federal investigation.”

“I don’t recall you being the one in charge here. I’ll ask the questions.” His low tenor sounded deceptively calm. Only his eyes revealed any real emotion.

Carrie stepped closer. “Let’s get one thing straight—I am in charge here. This is my investigation and you’re close to finding yourself hauled into federal court for obstruction. So you’d better tell me how you came to be involved in this investigation, officer, and how you know Denny Hernandez.”

“Your investigation.” His eyes narrowed over her choice of words. “And who the hell are you?”

Carrie resisted the urge to stamp her foot at his arrogance. “Answer the damn question.”

He didn’t. Carrie realized he still held her purse. Mesmerized, she watched as he reached inside and found her ID. “Agent Carrie Sierra.” He let out a low whistle then looked her up and down. “You’re Agent Sierra?” He sounded as if he didn’t believe what he’d seen.

She snatched at the purse and the ID and he released them to her. Clearly too surprised to stop her.

“Yes, I’m Agent Carrie Sierra. I’m heading up the taskforce investigating this coffeehouse as a possible terrorist hideout. And now that you know who I am, identify yourself, officer, because frankly, you’re in a hell of a lot of trouble. I’d hate to have to cuff you and take you into custody.”

The slow smile that spread across his seductive mouth was not quite the reaction Carrie had been hoping for. But it did make it hard to concentrate, not to mention breathe normal. Even harder to sound convincing when the man literally oozed sex appeal. She just had to bring cuffs into the mix, didn’t she. Her threat didn’t have the exact reaction she’d been hoping for. In fact, it had the worst possible reaction on her. The thought of him in cuffs and at her mercy was an amazing turn on.

When he stepped closer, she closed her eyes at the invitation she saw in his. All thoughts of finding out his identity and how he knew about a highly confidential terrorist investigation evaporated along with her next breath. His body was close enough to touch. She could feel the heat in him reaching out to her pulling her closer.

“Well, Carrie Sierra, it looks as if you and I are going to get much better acquainted with each other over the next few weeks…”

Her eyes flew open in time to see the amusement in his. He’d probably seen her reaction a hundred times before in just as many women. “What are you talking about? Who are you?”

“Jack Riley. I’ve been asked to be part of the taskforce you’re heading up. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Agent Sierra.” He whispered so softly that the last of her dutiful thoughts flew out the window in a shiver.

(More!!)