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networkingdefinition · 5 years

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Celery Quotes

Official Website: Celery Quotes

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• Anybody have money? Frank checked his pockets. “Three denarii from Camp Jupiter. Five dollars Canadian.” Hedge patted his gym shorts and pulled out what he found. “Three quarters, two dimes, a rubber band and – score! A piece of celery.” He started munching on the celery, eyeing the change and the rubber band like they might be next. – Rick Riordan

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'Celery', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '68', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_celery').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_celery img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); ); • Canada is the essence of not being. Not English, not American, it is the mathematic of not being. And a subtle flavour – we’re more like celery as a flavour. – Mike Myers • Do you want me to call you Celery Stick instead of Cupcake or Honey-Pie? It just doesn’t inspire the same warm and fuzzy feelings. – Richelle Mead • He nodded nervously. ‘He looks like a magician. I hate magicians. They usually have rabbits.’ I stared at him. ‘You’re scared of bunnies?’ ‘Blah-hah-hah! They’re big bullies. Always stealing celery from defenceless satyrs. – Rick Riordan • I don’t eat celery. I eat raw milk, cheeses. – Carol Alt • I got an ant farm. Them fellas didn’t grow anything. Hey, how about some celery? Plus, if I tore your legs off, you would look like snowmen. – Mitch Hedberg • I love to cook. In fact, at this exact moment, I am trying something new: I am cooking a whole chicken in my crockpot, which I’ve never done before. I browned it with garlic powder, salt and pepper, and I put a bunch of celery and onions – which I’ll have to hide from the children because they claim to hate onions – and I’m going to make homemade mashed cream potatoes. I always, before I leave for work in the morning, have supper cooking. That way, when I come home and they come home from school, there’s all kinds of good smells in the house. – Nancy Grace • I slice up a ton of cucumbers, celery, carrots and red and yellow peppers. Keep them in your fridge so you always have something handy to curb your snack attack. – Summer Sanders • I tried to go anorexic for a good three hours. I ate ice and celery, but that’s not even anorexic. And I quit. I was like, ‘Ma, can you make me a sandwich? Like, immediately.’ – Meghan Trainor • If you’ve got a plot the size of a car or a tiny yard in Italy, you’re going to be growing tomatoes and basil and celery and carrots, and everybody is still connected to the land. – Frances Mayes • I’m afraid of losing my obscurity. Genuineness only thrives in the dark. Like celery. – Aldous Huxley • I’m obsessed with broccoli, carrots, celery, string beans, snap peas, black kale, brussels sprouts, cabbage – I could go on! They used to call me ‘rabbit’ when I was a kid. I hate mushrooms, though. I apologize to fungi lovers, but this way, there’s more for you! – Lisa Edelstein • I’m sautéing emcees with fried rice up in the wok without the MSG and chopped celery. – Redman • Lettuce, greens and celery, though much eaten, are worse than cabbage, being equally indigestible without the addition of condiments. Besides, the lettuce contains narcotic properties. It is said of Galen, that he used to obtain from a head of it, eaten on going to bed, all the good effects of a dose of opium. – William Alcott • Many kids can tell you about drugs but do not know what celery or courgettes taste like. – Jamie Oliver • My parents were vegetarians. I’d show up at school, this giant black kid, with none of the cool clothes and a tofu sandwich and celery sticks. – Aisha Tyler • Never miss a party…good for the nerves–like celery. – F. Scott Fitzgerald • Pizza certainly has its place in school meals, but equating it with broccoli, carrots and celery seriously undermines this nation’s efforts to support children’s health and their ability to learn because of better school nutrition. – Jared Polis • Sydney: “You can be Jet if you want, but we are not posing as a couple again” Adrian: “Are you sure? Because I’ve got a lot more terms of endearment to use. Honey pie. Sugarplum. Bread pudding.” Sydney: “Why are they all high-calorie foods? And bread pudding isn’t really that romantic.” Adrian: “Do you want me to call you celery stick instead? It just doesn’t inspire the same warm and fuzzy feelings.” – The Indigo Spell – Richelle Mead • The day my child tries a celery is the most stressful day of my life. – Ariana Grande • The Democrats seem to be basically nicer people, but they have demonstrated time and again that they have the management skills of celery. They’re the kind of people who’d stop to help you change a flat, but would somehow manage to set your car on fire. I would be reluctant to entrust them with a Cuisinart, let alone the economy. The Republicans, on the other hand, would know how to fix your tire, but they wouldn’t bother to stop because they’d want to be on time for Ugly Pants Night at the country club – Dave Barry • The Democrats seem to be basically nicer people, but they have demonstrated time and again that they have the management skills of celery. – Dave Barry • The near end of the street was rather dark and had mostly vegetable shops. Abundance of vegetables – piles of white and green fennel, like celery, and great sheaves of young, purplish, sea-dust-coloured artichokes . . . long strings of dried figs, mountains of big oranges, scarlet large peppers, a large slice of pumpkin, a great mass of colours and vegetable freshness. . . . – D. H. Lawrence • The thought of two thousand people crunching celery at the same time horrified me. – George Bernard Shaw • The tradition of Italian cooking is that of the matriarch. This is the cooking of grandma. She didn’t waste time thinking too much about the celery. She got the best celery she could and then she dealt with it. – Mario Batali • The word ‘vegetable’ has no precise botanical meaning in reference to food plants, and we find that almost all parts of plants have been employed as vegetables – roots (carrot and beet), stems (Irish potato and asparagus), leaves (spinach and lettuce), leaf stalk (celery and Swiss chard), bracts (globe artichoke), flower stalks and buds (broccoli and cauliflower), fruits (tomato and squash), seeds (beans), and even the petals (Yucca and pumpkin). – Charles Heiser • There ought t’be some way t’eat celery so it wouldn’t sound like you wuz steppin’ on a basket. – Kin Hubbard • To-day I think Only with scents, – scents dead leaves yield, And bracken, and wild carrot’s seed, And the square mustard field; Odours that rise When the spade wounds the root of tree, Rose, currant, raspberry, or goutweed, Rhubarb or celery; The smoke’s smell, too, Flowing from where a bonfire burns The dead, the waste, the dangerous, And all to sweetness turns. It is enough To smell, to crumble the dark earth, While the robin sings over again Sad songs of Autumn mirth.” – A poem called DIGGING. – Edward Thomas • Was the Buffalo chicken wing invented when Teressa Bellissimo thought of splitting it in half and deep frying it and serving it with celery and blue-cheese dressing? Was it invented when John Young started using mambo sauce and thought of elevating wings into a specialty? – Calvin Trillin • What are plants doing? What are plants all about? They serve human beings by being decorative, but what is it from its own point of view? It’s using up air; it’s using up energy. It’s really not doing anything except being ornamental. And yet here’s this whole vegetable world, cactus plants, trees, roses, tulips, and edible vegetables, like cabbages, celery, lettuce – they’re all doing this dance. – Alan Watts

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equitiesstocks · 5 years

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Celery Quotes

Official Website: Celery Quotes

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bookgasms-bookboyfriends-blog · 7 years

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Heartbeat Series (Rock Notes, Love Notes, Music Notes (Available) and First Beat, First Bass and First Taste (Coming Soon) by: Renee Lee Fisher Rock Notes Love Notes Music Notes

Coming Soon: First Beat First Bass First Taste

BY: Renee Lee Fisher Contemporary Romance Published May 2013

AUTHOR LINKS – Twitter – https://twitter.com/ReneeLeeFisher Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/ReneeLeeFisherAuthor Amazon/Author Page – http://www.amazon.com/Renee-Lee-Fisher/e/B00D4OL58A/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1443286425&sr=8-1 Goodreads Author Page – https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7114580.Renee_Lee_Fisher

BOOK DESCRIPTION – The Heartbeat Series is a Rock Romance Six Planned Books, The first three are the core of the storyline and the remaining are some of the other band characters.

Begin with ROCK NOTES – Madison Tierney’s a writer, whose husband, Thomas suddenly left her after 10 years; she is destroyed and now recently alone and divorced. She picks herself up slowly trying to restore her lost confidence and ability to love again. She follows her writing passion and ventures to follow a local band – Rolling Isaac’s and write about them, raw and real and how they follow their dreams. Her book is titled ROCK NOTES. Madison’s ex wants back, and she is torn with the safe relationship she had with him and now new feelings that she is falling hard for the band’s vocalist – Max Rand (Madison calls him Rand) who is so handsome, sexy and several years younger than she is. Each moment with Rand is intense and unpredictable. Rand comes to her with baggage that he has tragically lost love and has no love left to give. He fills his time with groupies and late nights. There are many interruptions and assumptions along their journey.While Madison is writing ROCK NOTES…somewhere along the way she begins to write her LOVE NOTES, her own personal love letters for Rand. Both Madison and Rand appear to be able to write their feelings on paper and lyrics effortlessly, but have a hard time conveying them to one another. Will she return to the warm awaiting arms of her ex-husband who still is in love with her? Or will there be a new beginning for Madison and Rand? Can these two empty souls feel love again? Or will what ignites between them simply fade away after the concert lights dim?

LOVE NOTES – Rand: As our bodies joined as one, I felt more in that one moment than I have ever felt with anyone. I never wanted to leave your arms, your body, and our connection. I believe that you complete me, you were made for me. I struggled to keep my feelings at bay and not let you know but I am too emotionally involved with you and to know now that you are with me is beyond belief. Where we head from here together has unlimited paths. I know I will always have this need now to have you fulfill me as I know you can. I see you and just a glance across the room to you makes me want to have us running to the bedroom. Silently I ponder how to relay to you just how much Love I contain for you. Some days I feel like my heart is about to burst. Maddy xo Madison and Rand’s love story continues as they move their relationship to a more passionate, intimate level…but again they are thrown some challenges. Will Madison and Rand be together and move forward or…backward? Read what comes their way to cause doubt in their minds. Just when everything is going fine, sometimes accidents occur. Rand: Oh, God, something horrible has happened. I only remember parts of it and they seem like snapshots that were taken so quickly…I need to feel you near me. I need to reach out and touch you and let you know I love you. Rand, I never felt so in love as I do when I am with you. Maddy xo Madison must fully trust Rand to commit herself to him forever in marriage. Rand must make her see and feel what she truly means to him. This story will pull at your heart and make you tear as you turn the pages that may finally reveal Madison’s handwritten LOVE NOTES. Will they get their Happily Ever After?

MUSIC NOTES – How will Madison and Rand keep their love and music playing? Music Notes (Book Three of the Heartbeat Series) Just when life seems to be going smooth, Madison receives news that leaves her speechless. She’s a writer that for the moment cannot form her words. Rand now is the one to continue their story…his story. Music Notes will take you on the tour with Max Rand as his first Solo Album – Simply Mad is launched. Will his travel for several months put distance in their relationship? Can their love survive? Rand will travel through his own journey of self discovery along the way. Just when Rand is at a high point in his life, a collapse . . . will bring one of them down…Rand? Madison? One person will offer the ultimate sacrifice. See the songs that Rand has written, and where his inspiration comes from. Follow this novel and see how it plays out.

Coming Soon – FIRST BEAT – JILLIAN & RAEFORD FIRST BASS – CECILE/KENT/CONNOR FIRST TASTE – TRISTAN & TABBY

BOOK LINKS- Amazon – http://goo.gl/v1aNNcB&N – http://goo.gl/PH0E43Itunes – https://goo.gl/IUGfZZSmashwords – https://goo mA…Kobo – https://goo.gl/z4ol3L

BOOK VIDEO TRAILERS –

Rock Notes – https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Voxuur_Ew3I

Love Notes – https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0hfQ-ru_rtM

Music Notes – https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d5HhIvQQld8

First Beat – https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MZMx-ejWXr4

First Bass – https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gZBQ_NEpg7E

First Taste – https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aAqqiWm7WIA

EXCERT ONE – Rock Notes I am in a new part of my life, driving through an early spring day, air thick with falling petals swirling about. I think back to where I was months ago and I remember my marriage ending. It was a horrible cycle of emotions for me, first came so many tears and pain. Then I had so many questions as to why was I suddenly replaced with a woman that he hired to work in his office. I thought we had a solid and secure relationship. His walking away from me was staggering. I then suffered loss of self esteem and later I found anger which was hard for me to release, I kept so much inside. I still carry with me a self-doubt. I’m not sure I can rely on my judgment enough to trust any future partner. My husband ending our marriage knocked me down, but each new road I travel, I will get stronger. I turn on the radio to hear something to sway my mood. The music immediately takes me away on a journey as I travel briefly from traffic light to traffic light through town. Seems like the changing of the light pattern is in a sequence of musical themes like the chorus repeating over and over, red – yellow – green. Go – it is now time for me to go and begin my journey writing about the band. Conveying through my words their passion, their singing, and their playing to becoming seasoned musicians. I follow all the traffic to the concert this evening. This is my story Rock Notes. “Max, Max, Max Rand excuse me, do you have a moment to talk to me?” I closed in on the far corner of the stage. I had purchased a front row ticket to this evening’s local concert to take in tunes and set myself up for the possibility of conversation. “I know you don’t know who I am so let me introduce myself. I am Madison Tierney, call me Madison or Maddy. I am a freelance creative writer, once a columnist and now I’m writing a book titled, “Rock Notes” which I follow a band in depth, and I’d like that to be your band “Rolling Isaac’s.” I didn’t want to intrude on his time, so I simply said, “I know you have so many young ladies wanting you to sign autographs and their bodies,” I smiled and continued to talk in a confident manner, “but I just wanted to give you my business card in case we can speak in the near future or have your band representation contact me.” Looking up at Max and his combination of youthful and mature yet awesome, truly awesome good looks, I shouted out “Oh and I thought the show was great.” I beamed about it trying to remain calm, as I was more mature, rather than getting all flustered by a mere young band playing. Max looked me over from his vantage point above and smiled a kind brim and nodded. I drank in all his chiseled features and his dark chocolate, delicious hair that had tousled all over during the concert, looking very sexy like he had been rolling in bed for hours. It was then that he turned slightly to jump down and he placed his stunning, well built arms on the edge of the stage and the tattoo under his sleeve peeked briefly through. He was wearing a tight white long sleeve tee pushed up onto his forearms, and he was completely soaked with his sweet sweat from singing to the crowd. I wasn’t certain what was inked on him but I knew it drew me in. It was colorful and his tee shirt sleeve was stuck to him. I could see his firm, fit stomach also as the tee clung to his torso. I looked up, startled to see he was now standing in front of me and still smiling tenderly. He took my hand gently and slightly slid his finger over my fingertip as sensation ran through me, it was only for him to take the business card but it left me sort of out of breath, scattered my thoughts for a moment. His eyes pulled me in like an inviting Caribbean ocean, they were a deep tropical blue and his dark eyelashes swept over them. I had to rethink and tell my body to blink as I was captivated. I thanked him and hoped to hear from him and as he walked back I stood and stared at his tall frame and truly awesome body…he did not turn around. I went to finally leave when my feet would allow me to move them and I glanced back to take in the entire empty, darkened stage only to see him leaning on the far side and sending a smile and wink my way. I looked around to see if it was meant for someone else and then back to him where he laughed and nodded his head to me. I walked to my car and thought about Max Rand and our brief meeting and I was concerned about my attire for some odd reason…as it took me hours to decide earlier what to put together which was very unlike me. It was like taking time to prep for a date. I kept reselecting pieces from my closet to make me look a bit more hip and trendy. Finally I had chosen simple jeans, black boots and a black top with open shoulder areas. The appliqué on the shirt was a striking detailed cross with hearts that seemed to dance across the top and wrap to the back, almost like a hug, I added a black gem belt. Checking my look in the mirror, I was content and headed to the concert. I was just about to take hold of the car handle when my cell phone sounded, its timing making me think I set off my car alarm. I reached into my pocket and was surprised to read: I watched your nervous smile, and caught a glimpse of the top you wore, one of my inks looks like it. I sing yes, but I am also believe it or not, involved in the band’s representation…can we continue our conversation at a quiet space tomorrow? Max Rand I fumbled for a reply to him, could this actually be happening, he was contacting me in mere moments? I sent him a voice text as a reply – Yes, sure. Under my breath I said absolutely. That was so stupid of me, an adult to say yes, sure, and he probably heard me say absolutely…what was I thinking, I had to be in control of this proposal for my writing and I should not feel like a school girl, shy and nervous, my phone sounded again. I can meet you in Philly. There’s a coffee house there. It’s the 2nd Street Coffee Café. I began in the biz there and I hang out there upstairs. Meet you at two o’clock. The address is the name. I got the first cup. Wow was this really happening, I decided to take control of my life for once and go after the stories I wanted to write and now I was going to possibly have my foot in the door per se. I replied: Sounds great…I’ll be there Of course I would be there. That is all that I could say to him without sounding too over anxious. I smiled to myself and opened my car and positioned myself behind the wheel ready to start to take control of my life. I drove out of the city skyline to my townhouse. I had just begun to make it my new home over the past few months. The collapse of my marriage was devastating. My husband of ten years, Thomas, came to an epiphany that he just wasn’t in love with me anymore. He had taken me to bed and poured his heart out about how we were soul mates and destined to be together in the end, but there was something missing for him. As we made love that evening trying, I thought, to save or recapture what he felt he was lacking, I was unaware that this was his goodbye to me. He held me in his arms until dawn, but when I awoke he had left and moved out. I broke down and since I was always the one in the shadows of him, I had no real confidence to stand alone or walk tall. I was lost and lacked all confidence in my ability to love another. I didn’t find out right away, but the dark, ugly truth eventually made it out into the open. The fact was that Thomas found someone else, but apparently did not want to come right out and tell me that himself. We met in college, as I was deciding to be an English Major to write or do something like that with my degree; he had all his ducks in a row and set goals and was heading for the big business world. He had followed in his family’s steps and was soon interning with a leading financial company and heading for the top. Great pay, high-rise condo in the city, convertible automobile of the latest year and me as his wing person, just along for the ride and always in the shadows. He loved me I know but I always felt he could do better with someone showier, someone that wanted the life that he sought after. For me hanging in sweatpants and cami tops all day and writing different poems and stories was pure satisfaction. We had been in love and enjoyed so many memories together for ten years. He kept striving for the top so we put off any plans of starting a family and I was content with that as I had come from a slightly dysfunctional family that the peace and calm of just him and I was perfect. We had a beautiful over the top wedding with all the trimmings. Thomas’s family planned it all and the only say I got was that I loved crème tea roses with dark pink edges and so on my wedding day the only thing I remember smiling at was that there were a few of my favorite flowers. I really just wanted it simple but he wanted to show the world that he was getting married, only for me to find out later that the company he was working for wanted their employees married to show a secure status and responsibility. Now I wonder if he was really in love with me or was it a business tactic. Pulling into my driveway, I was finally reaching a comfort level in my life that took so long to get to after my breakdown. My townhome was quite comfortable with several extra rooms. One of the rooms held my desk and all my writings strewn about and another was filled with music for me to enjoy as I wrote. It also contained various art pieces, treasures I carefully selected. These rooms became a source of comfort for me, it became my tiny slice of heaven, a safety net for me to be in and feel secure. I threw my keys on the table in the entranceway and entered my bedroom and saw all the clothing choices I picked through earlier for the evening all over the floor. I laughed at my mess and climbed up onto my bed. I reached for my notebook, tucked my knees comfortably and began to write a handwritten note for Max Rand.

TEASERS and COVER GRAPHICS –

Derailed by: Renee Lee Fisher DERAILED BY: Renee Lee Fisher Suspense Romance Published August – 2015

BOOK DESCRIPTION – When you get hit by it, you will know. Aubrey Tanner is married to her work. With her recent separation from long-time boyfriend and the town’s most eligible bachelor, she definitely isn’t looking for love. Working in her bakery keeps her busy, feeds her the town gossip, and pays the bills, all that she needs… At least until she finds herself under attack with no way to save herself.

You can’t see it, but it takes your breath away. Tate Manning travels where the leads take him, like a tourist town with a bakery full of sugary concoctions, the sweetest of which is the owner. In the right place, he pulls her out of harm’s way, allowing him to see through the town’s sleepy veneer to the crime running beneath the surface. Worse, Aubrey is unknowingly in the center of it all, and he can’t bear another innocent to be lost on his watch.

In that moment, love changes everything. Neither Aubrey nor Tate expects the temptation the other brings nor the complications. Aubrey must choose between the man that held her heart for years or the stranger who saves her from a bad situation. Unfortunately, Tate brings with him secrets and an agenda.

How will he choose between his mission of revenge and the woman who chases away the darkness?

BOOK LINKS- AMAZON-US – http://goo.gl/g0ghy2UK – http://goo.gl/wdm34GAU – http://goo.gl/H4ZVNmCA – http://goo.gl/upj7ly

ITUNES – https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/derailed/id1027546636?mt=11B & N – http://goo.gl/9hdsPg ITUNES – https://itun.es/us/m4Xp9.lITUNES – https://itun.es/us/m4Xp9.lITUNES – https://itun.es/us/m4Xp9.lB & N – http://goo.gl/9hdsPgKOBO – https://goo.gl/qqpojjSMASHWORDS – https://goo.gl/Bwxg5q BARNES & NOBLE – http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/Renee+Lee+fisher?fs=0&_requestid=384221

KOBO – B & N – http://goo.gl/9hdsPg https://store.kobobooks.com/search?Query=Derailed+Renee+Lee+Fisher

SMASHWORDS – https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/566389

BOOK VIDEO TRAILER –

EXCERT ONE – When you get hit by it, you will know. Aubrey Tanner is married to her work. With her recent separation from long-time boyfriend and the town’s most eligible bachelor, she definitely isn’t looking for love. Working in her bakery keeps her busy, feeds her the town gossip, and pays the bills, all that she needs… At least until she finds herself under attack with no way to save herself.

How will he choose between his mission of revenge and the woman who chases away the darkness?

TEASERS and COVER GRAPHICS –

The Crossing Series (The Knot Hole, The Passage and The Muse) by: Renee Lee Fisher

The Knot Hole The Passage The Muse BY: Renee Lee Fisher Historical Romance Published 2014

BOOK DESCRIPTION – An Endearing, timeless, romantic tale, and adult fairytale. BEGIN WITH THE KNOT HOLE – Reaching through The Knot Hole to past moments in time . . . Taryn always wondered about how realistic her mothers’ tales were that she was told. They seemed like fantastic, creative and fun adventures. Now with Taryn’s mother gone, she will realize that her mother wasn’t just telling stories . . . she was really living them. Time has passed and Taryn has uncovered the power of The Knot Hole and the travels that await her. The Crossing Series: The Knot Hole, The Passage and The Muse will take you on a romantic journey from many years past to the present. Some souls will return as they have come back in time to keep their love alive. There are many exciting ventures for Taryn both in her own mind and soul. She will learn many elements of love and have guidance along the way. What she never thought she would find in an adventure was true love. Silas is the one who touched her from a past time period. He is truly unforgettable. Will Taryn have a second chance to be with Silas in her present lifetime?

THE PASSAGE – The Passage where souls are truly connected forever. It can be seen deep in the eyes of a person even if their body in this time period has changed . . . Taryn’s good fortune keeps coming in masses. Everything is falling into place, but there is one piece that doesn’t quite fit. Her present love seems to be perfect in so many ways . . . but she is constantly reminded of the love that she had so long ago. She often wishes The Passage would allow her to be with him, perhaps just to feel his touch once more, but TIME hasn’t allowed her that. The Crossing Series: The Knot Hole, The Passage and The Muse will take you on a romantic journey that spans time. From friends to family to loved ones, Taryn will encounter so many people that she once knew and their souls have found their way back to her. Being extremely business savvy, Taryn will set many of her dreams into motion, but who will be the one next to her in all of her accomplishments. Will it be someone in the present that has returned from the past?

THE MUSE – Taryn the creator of The Muse will have you follow her journey of everlasting love . . . Creating The Muse was derived in Taryn’s imagination to keep her identity hidden. The delicately winged symbol has touched so many lives. From a fluttering thought to the formation of a business plan, her life is continuing on the path of assisting others. The Crossing Series: The Knot Hole, The Passage and The Muse will take you on a romantic journey that spans time. An endearing exploration through so many lifetimes. Now is the TIME that Taryn can begin to find her true happiness. She has experienced so much, much of it unbelievable. Silas’s soul has returned to her as Lucas which has brought back the love she never could forget, but will he stay with her forever? BOOK LINKS- Amazon – http://goo.gl/v1aNNcB&N – http://goo.gl/PH0E43Itunes – https://goo.gl/IUGfZZSmashwords – https://goo.gl/g1E5mAKobo – https://goo.gl/z4ol3L

BOOK VIDEO TRAILER – https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8LHhZN5y3ro EXCERT ONE – Chapter One of THE KNOT HOLE –

Image “I hate this old wood paneling,” Taryn said aloud as she poured more Liquid Gold onto the soft cloth, continuing to rub new life back into the old wood. She had been doing this job for years now. Actually, since she had been a little girl. Some people had a favorite picture, piece of jewelry or even a special tree. Her mother had a favorite room, this sewing room, with its four wood paneled walls. It couldn’t be the kind of paneling which required only a quick wipe with a damp cloth, no, for her mother it had to be real wood, the actual smell from the wood carried through the room and you felt like you just walked into a home design store. Each year since her mother’s death five years earlier, Taryn had threatened to tear out this paneling, or paint it . . . or something, but she never did. Taryn would curse and give the wooden walls stern glances. It would seem almost sacrilegious to remove it though. As a child, this wood paneling was at the center of their family. Her father had sanded and stained each panel to perfection, and then added the final coat of finish to make it as smooth and shiny as glass. It had taken her father many evenings and weekends to complete the room making it as her mother had dreamed it should be. Her room in which she could sew, read, relax, and escape to her dreams. When her mother was in this room with the door closed, everyone respected her need to be alone. When the door was open anyone could wander in and out. Taryn recalled these memories of her early childhood as she continued to restore the life back into the paneling. Those memories seemed to surround her in this room, and they appeared like a play in three acts. First there was the joy and love her parents shared during the timeframe that it took to complete the walls. She recalled the renovation party her mother had arranged when it was completed. It was almost as though they were welcoming a new member into the family. The next several months had been spent in finding just the right things to go into the room. Soft shades of yellow were the dominant colors, with beautiful tan thick pile carpeting. Each frame on the walls displayed a picture or painting that held special meaning to her mother. A vision only she could “see” as she created it. The third act occurred every summer. When school was finished for the year, her mother would bring out three cans of Liquid Gold and a bag of soft cloths she’d been accumulating for the past year. She’d hand a can and several cloths to me and to my sister, Carolyn, and we would begin a week long project of rubbing new life into mother’s precious wood paneling. An annual ceremony. It was an almost solemn experience, such was the reverence we were taught in the care of mother’s wood. We worked together for several hours a day, and as we worked, my mother would tell us stories. Each one so descriptive that they gave us a visual we still carry in our minds. We knew she made up the stories and they were very good, we could hang on her words for the entire time. Each year she repeated some of our favorites from earlier years, as well as adding new ones. As I recall some of the stories, I still find them amazing and timeless. They weren’t fairy tales. They seemed real, just as though mother were telling us about a friend of hers and the experiences this friend had; conversations that had taken place. Mother loved to dream, and apparently dreamed so vividly that she was able to tell us such beautiful and seemingly real stories. Taryn raised herself up from her knees and stretched her sore back, rubbing her tight arm muscles and rotating her head to release the kinks. Again she said aloud, “I hate this wood paneling, now that I have to do it by myself, now that there are no more stories.” Taryn stood with her shoulders slumped and felt defeated by this chore. Despite this, to remove it or change it in any way would cause her mother’s spirit to become restless, of this she was sure. She could always feel her mother’s love, her essence, in this room. Taryn wondered if indeed a tiny piece of her mother’s soul had remained in this room to enjoy it, in peace, throughout eternity. Taryn knew she could never change the wood walls in her mother’s dream room. “Well, that’s enough R & R for one afternoon. Reminiscing and Rubbing!” She threw the towel into the bucket making the statement that she was done for this day. Taryn let the water from the shower spray over her body for a long period of time. She felt the soothing sensations of the warm water refresh her from being hunched into the corner polishing the baseboards earlier. Next she quickly dressed as food was needed in her home and the weekly grocery shopping was next, along with several other stops along the way. This was always her busiest week of the year. She was determined to keep to the schedule of devoting several hours each day, in order to finish with the wood panel cleaning in one week’s time. The next afternoon Taryn was back at work, continuing to restore the shine to the walls of the sewing room. As a child she had always been amazed at the many patterns the grains in the wood contained. As she sat back in her mother’s favorite chair taking a much needed break, feet propped up and drinking a glass of iced tea, she followed some of the patterns in the wood. Her hazel colored eyes came to rest on the dream spot. To anyone else it appeared as a flaw in the otherwise beautifully patterned wood. She remembered asking about the one dark spot on the wood, and her mother’s smiling reply. With love in her eyes, she’d said she and her father had searched through many pieces of wood paneling to find the perfect circle that would be her dream spot. It was a perfect six inch circle, darker in color than the rest of the panel. Taryn learned when she was older that it really was just a knot hole. Her mother told the story of how rough that spot had been when she’d found it, and that her father had worked sanding it by hand with very fine sandpaper to make it perfectly smooth. Once, when asked where she got all of her beautiful stories, her mother smiled that twinkle-eyed smile and told them the stories all came from her dream spot. The first year they’d polished the wood, she noticed her mother took great care to polish the panel particularly around this area. The second year she’d told Taryn she could have the honor of polishing that panel. The third year the honor went to Carolyn. And so it went year after year, each taking a turn polishing that distinctive area. Taryn returned her attention to polishing, in order to finish the last panel for this summer’s ritual cleaning. The last panel was always the one with the knot hole. Another half hour and finally it would be done. As Taryn rubbed the familiarly scented cloth up and down with the grain of the wood, her cloth passed over the knot hole. She experienced a moment of shock as she thought it felt hot beneath the cloth. “What the hell!” she said aloud. She rubbed over the same spot again, and yes, it did feel heated. She transferred the cloth to her left hand placing her palm over the dream spot. Several things happened at the same moment. Her hand pushed easily through the knot hole, all the way to her elbow. Her body became rigid so she couldn’t move. Panic and fear immediately set in. However, she seemed unable to move, to react physically to the situation. All she could see before her was the wall and her arm from the elbow up. The rest of her lower arm and hand had disappeared into the wall . . . without a hole to disappear into! In her panic, Taryn thought this must be what it felt like to be confined in a strait jacket, fully conscious, but unable to move a muscle in her body. “Okay, Taryn. Get a grip,” she said, “breathe, in and out slowly.” The fear receded a bit, as she concentrated on breathing. She’d always been the very practical member of the family. Now was the perfect time to be realistic. “Get real here, Taryn. It is impossible that what you think you see is real. Right? Right! My arm is not stuck in a wall with no hole in it.” She couldn’t move her arm. Screaming for help would do no good, since no one was close enough to her home to hear her. A strangled laugh emerged from her very tight throat as she said a silent thank you that no one could see her, or she would certainly be deemed crazy. She slowly became aware of the feeling developing in her missing hand and arm. There was warmth on the skin of her hand . . . no, heat on her hand. No, her hand was enfolded in heat. “Of course,” she said, “my hand is outside and the sun is shining on my hand. Right, Taryn. You stuck your hand through the wall and it’s dangling outside. Where is the blood?” She concentrated on her hand and the heat and felt suddenly calmed. How could she feel so calm when her . . . “Taryn” . . . a long silence followed but she was sure she had just heard her name spoken. If someone called her name then . . . “Oh, my God. Someone IS outside. They see my hand.” “Taryn.” She heard it again. She seemed to recognize the voice, but couldn’t identify it. “Taryn, don’t be afraid. It’s only me it’s your mother.” “Mother!” Taryn screeched, “Mother?” “Yes, Taryn, it’s me. Really.” Her mother’s voice responded. “I’ve been waiting for you to find the secret of my dream spot. I knew you would. Do you feel my hands on yours, Taryn?” “I feel the heat, yes.” Taryn answered. “I’m holding your hand, Taryn.” “Mother, this isn’t real. It’s impossible.” “No, Taryn, it isn’t real. It’s a dream experience. Do you remember the stories I used to tell you when you were little?” “Of course, Mother. I could never forget your stories.” “Those stories were my own experiences, Taryn. I knew you children would be frightened if I told you the secret of this room and the knot hole, so I never did. I knew someday you would discover the surprise on your own, in your own time. And now you have.” “Mother, my arm can’t be stuck in a hole that’s not there. Nor can I be talking to you. You aren’t there either. I must be stressed out and don’t know it. I’m hallucinating!” “No, Taryn. You are perfectly healthy and in your right mind. It’s only that your mind cannot accept what it’s seeing and hearing. It’s a totally foreign concept to your mind. I have been allowed to remain nearby until you discovered this, just as I knew you would. Now that you have found it, my dear child, I can continue with my own journey. Your father has been waiting for me for a long time now, so I will join him. Together, we are off to more adventures. Have a wonderful life my dear Taryn, and enjoy the dream spot. It’s now yours. It will provide adventures you cannot imagine. Remember my stories, Taryn. They were my adventures. I must go now, dear. Remember always that I love you.” Taryn was stunned. She couldn’t speak. She felt her muscles begin to relax and saw her arm and hand slowly emerge from the wall. She stumbled over to her mother’s favorite comfortable chair and collapsed into it, totally drained and exhausted. She fell immediately into a very deep and dreamless sleep. Taryn awakened feeling happy and refreshed. Then she remembered her experience . . . or . . . had she dreamed it while she slept? If it had really happened, it wasn’t real anyway. Her mother had said it wasn’t real, that it was a dream. A waking dream? Still feeling confused, Taryn busied herself and gathered the cleaning supplies together, she quickly realized the can of Liquid Gold was on the floor in front of the last panel. The cloth was on the floor as well, just where she must have dropped it . . . if what she thought she’d experienced really had happened? * * * Taryn slept until almost noon the next day. The long nap the afternoon before had kept her awake until the early hours of the morning. In order not to think about the afternoon’s experience, she read well into the middle of her latest paperback. The heroine’s troubles kept her mind well occupied until sleep finally came. She heated a cup of water in the microwave, added a tea bag and took it out to the deck to enjoy the warm summer sun. All was well with the world that spread out before her eyes, BUT, she wondered, was all well within herself, with her life, with her future? She had a good life, an easy life, a contented life. Then why am I so restless lately, she wondered. She swept back her bangs from her forehead and played lightly with her hair deep in thought. Last night was a perfect example. She enjoyed Brandon’s company and felt comfortable with him. She had been dating Brandon on occasion for about a year, but that’s all it was. It was comfortable. She routinely attended fund raising events for various causes. It was always more enjoyable for her to attend with Brandon, than alone. He wasn’t the great love in her life, and she knew he wouldn’t be. The love that she knew would be hers someday was not there, not like the love her parents shared. She knew she wouldn’t settle for less in her mate, but then, she wasn’t really anxious to get married right now either. She was only twenty-four and felt she had plenty of time. He did serve a purpose aside from good company. His presence seemed to keep others from being as blatant as they might have otherwise been about their expectations of her. Taryn enjoyed a relatively easy life. She had a comfortable income, and most of her peers knew she didn’t have to work for it. As a result, they had expectations that she give to each and every cause. Taryn would have done it anyway, but their attitude soured the experience for her. She had a number of friends, but they weren’t close as she and her friend Ashlee were. Ashlee had moved to the west coast when a great job offer came her way a year ago. She had met Ashlee the first day on campus as a freshman, and it was “like” at first sight. They had roomed together for the next four years. Ashlee had been her source of strength when her mother died so suddenly in her third year at State. Sadly she earlier lost her father who had died while she was still in high school. Her sister, Carolyn, had married during her senior year in college and now traveled from post to post with her career Navy husband. She had only seen Carolyn twice since her mother’s funeral. Taryn was therefore alone when she graduated from college. Ashlee accepted the invitation to come to Virginia with her, to get a job in the area and share Taryn’s home. And so it had been, until Ashlee received a reply to a resume she’d sent to the west coast. It was the job she’d wanted, in order to get started in her Hollywood career as a costumer. She’d moved to California a year ago. It was funny. Just the other day she had been rushing around with so much to do. All busy work! I really don’t have anything important to do, and I’m still not sure what kind of a future I want, she thought. I don’t have a burning desire for a husband or children. I’m a writer, but I don’t have a fiery aspiration to write, I just do it as it comes to me. There is no strong yearning to find that grand, passionate relationship right now or if I ever will encounter that in my lifetime. Mentioning lifetime, hers had taken a very different turn on one particular day a while back. * * * The summer after graduating from college, she and Ashlee had started out early one Sunday morning to spend the day at the shore. They’d stopped at a mini-market to fill their cooler with drinks and to buy some beach snacks. They’d also bought one lottery ticket with the change from their purchases. A few days later they found themselves with the winning ticket. They both already had what they considered comfortable incomes, but now they were guaranteed a very sizable check once a year, for the next twenty years. That’s when Ashlee decided she could pursue her dream of living in California and began sending out resumes. Ashlee would definitely fit into the California lifestyle. She was a beautiful girl with long blonde hair and built very nice as well as already having the look of one of those female Baywatch lifeguards. Her eyes always captivated the people she met. They were a bright blue and she was often asked if she enhanced them with color contacts. Her smile too was not to be missed, it was a great asset and would be a plus to get her into the doors of the Hollywood scene. Taryn had resigned from her job to chart a new course. She started that journey by buying out her sister’s half of the house their mother had left to them to share. She had to consider that this was, at least in part, the problem. She couldn’t help but wonder if it was because she didn’t have to work, that the need to work was missing. During the year she’d worked as a writer for the Sun Times, she had enjoyed it. But when she no longer needed the income, it had been so easy to leave the job and take some time to decide what she wanted to do with her skills that might be a little more exciting, more rewarding somehow. “What are you waiting for, Taryn?” She asked herself aloud. “Where is your new venture? Writing a few articles now and then? Spending long research hours at the library for the Pulitzer Prize novel you plan to write someday? Waiting for love to come and find you?” Enough already! Taryn made it to Wednesday without giving into the nagging thoughts of the dream experience with her mother. She also pushed back her thoughts of what her path in life should be. She had not entered the sewing room since last Saturday afternoon. She knew she was no longer afraid of what might or might not have occurred in that room, but still she hadn’t been ready to go back in and face her questions. Taryn entered the room and walked around slowly, lightly sweeping her fingertips over the sewing machine, the love seat, the picture of a beautiful thoroughbred horse, the lamp her mother sat beside to do her delicate hand work. She stopped and turned. Slowly, she walked to the distinctive panel across the room. She thought, once again, about her hand and arm being IN the wall, of her mother’s touch on her hand, and her mother’s voice. Slowly, she raised her right hand and touched the knot hole delicately with her fingertips. It was cool to the touch, not hot. She hesitated a moment, then placed the palm of her hand completely over the spot. It was still cool to her touch. She waited, with her hand still on the wall. No movement. The wall remained the same. Almost relieved that nothing had occurred, she released the breath she had been holding and turned to walk over to her mother’s favorite chair. She glanced at the door as if it had spoken to her, wondering if her mother had her dreams when the door was closed and the family gave her privacy. She walked over and slowly closed the door. She returned to the chair and sat down, tucking her legs under her body. Feeling comfortable now, Taryn wondered how her mother had used the dream spot when she’d been sitting in this chair. Feeling very foolish, but too curious not to follow her thoughts, she spoke aloud in a sarcastic tone. “Mother said you belong to me now, dream spot, and that you will show me adventures I couldn’t begin to imagine. Do you have an adventure to share with me?” Taryn kept her eyes on the knot hole, holding in her mind the memory of her mother’s warm hands holding her own, as she had the other day. Taryn didn’t believe that anything would occur, but the dream spot began moving slowly, as she continued to watch it and concentrate on it. It gradually increased its counter clockwise movement until it was spinning so fast it was a blur to her wide open eyes. There was a whirring sound, like a top spinning. It was coming across the room towards her. The faster it spun, the louder it sounded, and the closer it appeared to her. The sound seemed to slam hard into her solar plexus and she gasped for breath. It hit her like when the floor moves with a loud clap of thunder during a storm. She then began to spin, faster and faster and in a split second it stopped, she stopped, and there was total silence. Taryn was aware she had squeezed her eyes tightly shut and now hesitated opening them. She didn’t know what she might see, or if she really was being given an adventure. This is silly, this is impossible, she thought. Open your eyes, Taryn! You’ll see there is no adventure, only the sewing room. Right! Okay! Here goes! As she relaxed in order to open her eyes, she became aware of a smell. Quickly she squeezed the lids tight shut again. Smell. What do I smell? Fresh air. Sunshine. Grass. Flowers. I hear water running. I hear birds singing. I’m outside, not in my sewing room. Slowly she opened her eyes again. Very slowly, so she could shut them quickly again if she had to. Silly, silly, Taryn. Eyes open or eyes closed, I swear you are outside, so you might as well look. She peeked through narrow slits between her eyelids, and sure enough she was outside. Her eyes opened wide now in surprise. She was standing in a meadow filled with all kinds of wildflowers. Some she recognized, such as beautiful purple liatris, stargazer lilies, and black eyed susans’. . . others she had not seen before and therefore could not identify but their colors were all so incredibly vibrant. She could smell the light fragrances, and combined they reminded her of a bowl filled with potpourri. She found that she was standing beside a stream. The scent was of a cool crisp rain that just passed over. The water was slowly flowing past her, lazily washing around large stones breaking the surface. The stream was very clean and clear, allowing her to see the pebbles on the very bottom. Taryn began walking, following the direction of the water. It seemed so silent, and yet there were many sounds. The birds, the leaves rustling in the trees, the sound of the water washing around the stones. She felt very peaceful even though there were many questions hovering just out of reach of her mind. She could only feel. Calm, relaxed, peaceful. It didn’t seem important, at the moment, how she had gotten here or even where “here” was. The stream appeared to end just up ahead of where she was walking. As she got closer, she realized it was taking a sharp turn to the right. She followed around the turn and saw a wooden footbridge crossing over the water a little further ahead. The footbridge wasn’t new, but it looked very sturdy. Maybe someone took special care of it as she did with her mother’s wood paneling. She walked part way across the small bridge and decided to sit down. Dangling her legs over the edge of the bridge, Taryn watched the water flow towards her and then pass beneath her. Adventure! The water was having an adventure and so was she. A career, a family, a passion for living and creating a course to follow in her life seemed very far away now, and totally unimportant. Suddenly, she felt more than alone when she saw a movement off to her right. She turned her head and saw a man walking toward the footbridge from the opposite bank. As he came closer he raised his hand in greeting and said, “Good Afternoon.” Taryn could feel him speaking to her, but it felt like he was speaking directly into her head. She knew it was crazy, but she heard him even though she was not really hearing his voice. She wondered if he was a ghost or spirit. She could see him and feel a presence but he wasn’t real. She thought if she put out her had to shake his that his would pass right through hers. Taryn returned his greeting and began to stand, but he raised his hand again indicating for her to stay seated. “May I join you for a few minutes?” He asked. “Yes.” He had nice eyes, smiling eyes, and she felt that he was a gentle man. He was tall and very lean, his skin was pale but his eyes told the story. They were gray in color and looked so deep and endless. She asked, “Are you the owner of this beautiful meadow?” “No I’m only the caretaker or one who oversees things that occur.” “I feel like I’m trespassing. Is it okay that I’m here?” Taryn asked concerned. “Of course, Dear. You are most welcome to be here. Are you enjoying your first adventure?” Taryn was stunned and sure that her face registered the surprise she felt that he should know about her adventure. She asked, “How did you know why I am here?” “Well, Dear, I’ve been the caretaker here for an endless amount of time, and I have dubbed this place The Passage.” “It sounds like the name of a secret place,” she replied. “Not a secret at all but for select individuals to experience.” He smiled at her to put her at ease. “I think it will be fun. Am a little nervous as you can see. Do many people come here for an adventure?” She asked. “Oh, my, yes,” he answered. “Many people have come here for their first adventure. Many people who decide to try a dream adventure have questions and doubts as to whether it’s real. You might say it’s a sort of the training ground for future dream adventures.” “Have you talked with many of these people?” she asked. “Yes, that’s my job. I welcome new visitors and make sure they feel comfortable. Some have expressed great anxiety over their visit here and make the choice of not having any more dream adventures.” “My mother seemed to enjoy hers long ago. She told us such wonderful stories about them. Of course I didn’t find out they were real occurrences until just a few days ago. I always thought she was just a very good storyteller.” “Did you ever wonder how so many writers could write so many books and articles, and all have a different story to tell?” Again surprise registered on her face. “You mean some authors really are writing about their adventures?” Taryn asked. He nodded his head methodically in response to her question. “Are you saying this place is a starting point for would-be writers?” she continued. “Not at all. I would describe this place more as a starting point for a creative person to explore and expand their imaginative powers, no matter what their talent. However, don’t limit your thoughts to that idea, for this place is far more than that.” “My mother was a very creative person in her passion for making clothing. She was a seamstress, but she only produced clothing for me, my sister and herself. And she took great care in creating her sewing room. Is that how she came to visit here?” “Yes. In one sense. Her creativity had no boundaries. She loved to work with fabrics, textures and colors. However, she placed being a mother and wife above a career, so she never allowed her artistic ideas to reach out into the world of fashion, where, I might add, she could have been very successful. Because she was so very inventive, she extended that ability into creating a perfect room for herself. Her innovative essence was still not satisfied and that’s what led her to discover the dream adventure. Many times I told your mother she should publish her stories so other people could appreciate them. She always said they were only for her children to enjoy. It was her boundaries that caused her to decide that she couldn’t take a chance on becoming a known author. In her mind, that would take her away from her family and home.” “I’ve thought about publishing some of her stories. But mother was so against the idea, I haven’t dared to do so . . . as of yet.” Taryn smiled back. “You may do so if you like, for they are now your stories. Your mother gave them to you as she gave you the dream spot to explore if you choose to do so.” “So you know about that?” Taryn questioned. “Yes. We keep track of our visitors and their progress.” “Somehow through that knot hole I got here, but . . . how do I get back?” Taryn questioned as she wrinkled her brow. “Well, as soon as you have decided your dream adventure is completed you will find yourself comfortably back in your chair in the sewing room.” “Is it always that quick and easy?” Taryn voiced. “No, Dear. Not always. Sometimes you’ll find that you’re not finished with your dream adventure, but that you go back anyway.” “How? Why?” Taryn was confused. “For any number of reasons. Your body may require a meal, the phone may ring, someone may come to your door, or you may have an appointment to keep.” “You mean I can never get stuck in an adventure and not return home?” “You, Dear, will never get stuck anywhere. You will always return home. Your mother always returned. It wouldn’t be considered an adventure if you stayed in it forever. It would create a crisis in your world”. He stood up. “I’ll continue my walk now. Enjoy your adventures.” He smiled and raised his hand in farewell. Taryn curved her lips into a soft closed lipped smile and raised her hand, offering the same gesture. Within moments Taryn heard a distant whirring sound and before she could locate its source, she was leaning back in her chair in the sewing room. Her first thought was to wonder how long she might have been gone. She checked the light on her answering machine, but there had been no calls. She turned on the TV and flipped to The Weather Channel. It was still the same date and no more than a half hour could have passed. Funny, it seemed like hours must have passed during her adventure.

TEASERS and COVER GRAPHICS –

Author Spotlight-Renee Lee Fisher Heartbeat Series (Rock Notes, Love Notes, Music Notes (Available) and First Beat, First Bass and First Taste (Coming Soon) by: Renee Lee Fisher…

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