tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4447824569001593212024-03-18T22:33:06.532-05:00Sara Barnard - Historical and Amish Romance AuthorWife to an Army veteran, mother of four, rescuer of animals, lover of history, and general scribe.
Bestselling books: Rebekah's Quilt (Amish fiction, first in a series), A Heart on Hold (historical romance, first in a series), The ABC's of Oklahoma Plants (children's nonfiction), The ABC's of Texas Plants (children's nonfiction), and The Big Bad Wolf Really Isn't so Big and Bad (children's nonfiction).Sara Harrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10519801029696101409noreply@blogger.comBlogger114125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-444782456900159321.post-89993490389913722822016-04-17T00:48:00.001-05:002016-04-17T00:48:26.440-05:00WeWriWa - A Heart on Hold - New Release 4/17/16<div style="text-align: center;">
A HEART ON HOLD (AN EVERLASTING HEART #1)</div>
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Welcome to this week's edition of Weekend Writing Warriors! My debut novel just re-released and in honor of this, I would love to share with you a piece of <u>A Heart on Hold</u>.<br />
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<b><i>Let's set the scene . . . Charlotte had said goodbye to her childhood love Lieutenant Sanderson Redding as he left to fight for the South in the War Between the States, but not before proposing to Charlotte. A rogue telegram came in from Sanderson, telling Charlotte of his impending return for sick leave. This excerpt begins as Charlotte's father, George, spots Sanderson at the edge of their yard and points him out to her.</i></b><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Charlotte’s world moved in slow
motion as she grasped her skirt in her hands and whirled about. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">She gasped as she locked
eyes with those, deep and hazel, of her love. He stood, reins in hand, like a
statue of perfection. “Sanderson!” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">In an instant, she was in his
arms, grasping him around his thin waist. She turned her face up to take in
every minute detail of the man she had promised to share her life with. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Sanderson’s face was gaunt and
pale. Sweat stood out from his forehead in large beads and the dark circles
under his tired eyes looked like shiners. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="line-height: 103%; text-align: right; text-indent: -0.5pt;">“Even more beautiful than that day at the station,” Sanderson
began as he cupped her chin in his </span><span style="line-height: 103%; text-align: right; text-indent: -0.5pt;">calloused hand and smiled into the face of
his beloved.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Before their lips could meet in a
much-anticipated kiss, a coughing fit overcame him, leaving his lips bloody as he sputtered, wheezed, and fell to his knees. </span><br />
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***</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I hope you enjoyed this excerpt! <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Heart-Hold-Everlasting-Book-ebook/dp/B01DOQC9GE/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1459657521&sr=8-2&keywords=a+heart+on+hold+by+sara+barnard" target="_blank">You can get your copy on Amazon for $2.99 here</a>!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.wewriwa.com/" target="_blank">Here is your portal back to the other amazing WeWriWarriors!</a> </span></div>
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<span style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am pretty excited to be writing this post. For the first time in many, many years, a ToRnAdO made an appearance in my little corner of west Texas! My children and I were outside playing basketball and enjoying the beautiful weather when we needed a drink from Sonic. Dinner was in the oven and Sonic is just around the corner, so away we went. We were on the way back, with old fashioned cream soda drinks in tow, when hail began to pound us out of NoWhErE! Between the hail and the sudden onset of rain, conditions were nearly white-out. We pressed on, and noticed all of the other cars were pulling off to the side of the road and the hail was getting larger. Well, as some of you may know,one of my four children is my son with Asperger's Autism. </span></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">From the backseat, I heard the niggles of an impending meltdown. So there was really only one thing to do . . .crank up some rock-n-roll and plow on through, cheering and loudly exclaiming how much fun you're having! Despite being in a complete white out and pummeled by flying boxes and branches and hail, IT WORKED. He was laughing by the time we arrived home, even though my heart was pounding out of my chest! All kids and animals are safe and dry inside, plus two baby white winged doves who were blown into the street and now call my bathroom their temporary home.</span></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>On another note, I learned tonight that <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Saga-Indian-Emly-Sara-Barnard-ebook/dp/B018PWEXGQ/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1460872048&sr=8-1&keywords=the+saga+of+indian+em%27ly+by+sara+barnard" target="_blank">The Saga of Indian Em'ly</a> is in the running for the 2015 RONE award for best Novella! </b></span></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Reader votes are crucial in this first stage, so my publisher has lowered the price of Indian Em'ly to just .99 cents! </b></span></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Voting starts May 16th! </b></span></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>If you would like an ARC, please let me know in the comments! </b></span></span></div>
Sara Harrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10519801029696101409noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-444782456900159321.post-28345228475443966912016-04-03T09:57:00.002-05:002016-04-09T19:10:13.494-05:00WeWriWa - 4/10/16 A Heart on Hold (Release on 4/14/16)Hello one and all! I am switching gears today from Missi Wanderin' in the Woods (where we just finished Chapter One) to A Heart on Hold, which will be released on April 14th! This is the first in a four book series that is very near and dear to my heart.<br />
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Thank you for all of your kind comments when I debuted the cover.<br />
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<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Heart-Hold-Everlasting-Book-ebook/dp/B01DOQC9GE/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1459657521&sr=8-2&keywords=a+heart+on+hold+by+sara+barnard" target="_blank">Now, A Heart on Hold is up for preorder! Yay!</a> Click to get your copy pre-ordered for $2.99!<br />
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Follow this link to get back to the<a href="http://www.wewriwa.com/" target="_blank"> Weekend Writing Warriors bloghop</a>!<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>“Don’t die till we get to have some fun, girl.”
Samuel’s whiskey-ruined voice was hot in Charlotte’s ear. </b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Somewhere behind her, his Yankee cohort's maniacal laughter pulsated with cruelty. </b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>The older defector's Bowie knife grew closer to
her face, but with her arms lashed behind her, Charlotte could only watch in
helpless terror as the promise of death drew nearer. When the icy blade met the skin of her neck, she knew her end had come. </b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Sanderson</i>, she prayed, her thoughts swirling like a tempest. <i>Where are you?</i> </b></span><o:p></o:p></div>
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Sara Harrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10519801029696101409noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-444782456900159321.post-71973440537305554262016-03-26T22:16:00.002-05:002016-03-26T22:16:40.393-05:00WeWriWa - March 27, 2016 - Missi Wanderin' in the Woods<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: times new roman, serif;">On last week's installment of Weekend Writing Warriors, we were in the throes of the Emergency Room excitement in Vicenza, Italy when the life of an unborn baby hung in the balance. Welcome to this eight-sentence snippet. To get back to the other Weekend Writers, <a href="http://www.wewriwa.com/" target="_blank">click here</a>! </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-1LqaRDRcrg5GiXvjoi2gujN_-KHciS8IiUU5bxa3CrZgZ6GZjKS4X2N4fa_86ro2Un_8j_lE9p7UJ_d-5AXxtsdqnL6vWsbW6Tz87vauDQILM9ebC2Uvj9FLwCmEA61uI2OSq6EEk0U/s1600/Il+Fauno+restaurant.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-1LqaRDRcrg5GiXvjoi2gujN_-KHciS8IiUU5bxa3CrZgZ6GZjKS4X2N4fa_86ro2Un_8j_lE9p7UJ_d-5AXxtsdqnL6vWsbW6Tz87vauDQILM9ebC2Uvj9FLwCmEA61uI2OSq6EEk0U/s320/Il+Fauno+restaurant.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A favorite Italian restaurant, Il Fauno's -- wonderful waitstaff, great food, and<br />an American toilet!! </td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; line-height: 200%;">After a quick, burning shot to stop the
contractions and a tub of progesterone capsules to insert nightly, we were
released. These people who didn’t even speak my language had just saved the
life of my unborn child. “What did the doctor say before he left,” I asked our
nurse as she walked us to the front doors of the hospital. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view from the villa where we lived</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB1y1krJj9Ltlv3t1fqRLM98N_SJP69iOLy6ysZpqL151lTtCEJVKkE-6eT7sa_ORbiEUXPyrPRDKDam9wmgFOfthzTQbgRqXmk3fkVD7UX9ywrRJn4OIa8FOuMsZ6jAqgNZJ2pdJgJpI/s1600/patio+view.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB1y1krJj9Ltlv3t1fqRLM98N_SJP69iOLy6ysZpqL151lTtCEJVKkE-6eT7sa_ORbiEUXPyrPRDKDam9wmgFOfthzTQbgRqXmk3fkVD7UX9ywrRJn4OIa8FOuMsZ6jAqgNZJ2pdJgJpI/s200/patio+view.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view from the other side of the villa</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our Texan kitchen in Italy</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; line-height: 200%;">Her lips tilted into a half-smile. “He
said Americans and their modesty . . . do they not understand that there is no modesty in life and death?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">I locked eyes with my
husband and blinked back unwelcome tears </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;"></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">as I remembered my nurse's words. <i>No
modesty in life and death.</i> I </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;"></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">wish I had asked her if dignity followed the
same rule.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg210vhf9RXfruD6Bk5HrV86PYoGFXrsnNI-oBRq0xnxBC-wircyQIp0CCP1Kc3MT8ETi0UuN_4sJLNkHNG5sG4f71mN_O8fIiSXS5Os1sijgy_5zgNOLXT2PTZV-HimLxsSG7ULDDULf8/s1600/street+side+of++Sara%2527s+house.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg210vhf9RXfruD6Bk5HrV86PYoGFXrsnNI-oBRq0xnxBC-wircyQIp0CCP1Kc3MT8ETi0UuN_4sJLNkHNG5sG4f71mN_O8fIiSXS5Os1sijgy_5zgNOLXT2PTZV-HimLxsSG7ULDDULf8/s400/street+side+of++Sara%2527s+house.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our chilly villa where I was on bed rest for four weeks following the ER incident. </td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">April 14th -- the rebirth date of my debut novel, A Heart on Hold. Cover reveal time!!! </span></div>
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Sara Harrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10519801029696101409noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-444782456900159321.post-58192117608762675932016-03-16T17:24:00.000-05:002016-03-19T15:37:04.613-05:00The Sonogram - March 20, 2016 - Missi Wanderin' in the Woods - WeWriWa<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><i>Welcome back for this Weekend Writing Warriors edition of Missi Wanderin' in the Woods. </i></b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;">Weekend Writing Warriors is where a wonderful group of authors, from prepublished to multipublished, share eight-to-ten sentences from one of their works. We welcome critique, observations, and any other comments from blog readers!</span><a href="http://www.wewriwa.com/" style="font-size: xx-large; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;" target="_blank"> Find them here!!</a><br />
<b><i><span style="font-size: x-large;">We left off in the Italian Emergency Room, where we just learned Sara's (well, my) baby was still alive -- unlike what the Army doctors said. Adrenaline still surging, let's see what happened next. </span></i></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; line-height: 200%;"><b><i>Before the words were out of the nurse's mouth,
the doctor had the internal probe inserted and located the source of the
problem. He spouted off a slew of musical Italian words and, though I didn’t
understand what he said, I understood the soft tones of relief that colored
them.</i></b></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho87bHqP-7Q4XAlS2N9YLwXjFyftagbTzoXHGFRP-iPtMLbCXV2cKqjvkkBnkp37ByLVmB1hk3EIoSZHsckqXendG6k1sUEI-m-WGp31uL6HDHCXfcy-6KXYO5eWeaKE-Qy1FMeNg9MSI/s1600/italianhospital.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho87bHqP-7Q4XAlS2N9YLwXjFyftagbTzoXHGFRP-iPtMLbCXV2cKqjvkkBnkp37ByLVmB1hk3EIoSZHsckqXendG6k1sUEI-m-WGp31uL6HDHCXfcy-6KXYO5eWeaKE-Qy1FMeNg9MSI/s1600/italianhospital.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;"><b><i>“The placenta is
detaching,” she relayed, her eyes still on the screen. A fast little heartbeat </i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;"><b><i> pounded in perfect rhythm from the speakers. “See the blood clot there?
Your body tries to fix it, to </i></b></span><b style="font-family: 'times new roman', serif; font-size: x-large; line-height: 107%;"><i>save precious bambino.” </i></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'times new roman', serif; line-height: 32px; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><i><span style="font-size: large;">The doctor rattled off something else and patted my naked thigh before disappearing.</span></i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; line-height: 200%;"><b><i>Charlie stammered from the other side of the table. “Did um -- well, our -- did we cause this?”<o:p></o:p></i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; line-height: 200%;"><b><i>“No," the nurse smiled, "but no more having the sex, okay?”</i></b></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyF1JHErg79979iyfJkkBySeeYhxD5Idqbc8y5ObO2MrVZB6G26KFcjgqvWrb8JK5BvHRTGy9HqIj36IXjhS9RLub_sOvkq_e33f1C2WROAQnj-ep1QglDX_y4DmN9PkblojThGhqLVg4/s1600/italianarmyhospitalbirthingcenter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyF1JHErg79979iyfJkkBySeeYhxD5Idqbc8y5ObO2MrVZB6G26KFcjgqvWrb8JK5BvHRTGy9HqIj36IXjhS9RLub_sOvkq_e33f1C2WROAQnj-ep1QglDX_y4DmN9PkblojThGhqLVg4/s1600/italianarmyhospitalbirthingcenter.jpg" /></a><span style="font-family: times new roman, serif;"><b>Researching some pictures to go along with this excerpt, I was glad to find <a href="http://www.stripes.com/news/vicenza-town-hall-meeting-focuses-on-birthing-center-s-closure-1.266166" target="_blank">this article</a>. </b></span></div>
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<b>That horrific "birthing center" on the American military base in Vicenza has shuttered its doors. This was the establishment that gave me the advice to "let the miscarriage happen naturally" and that it was "God's will". </b></div>
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Sara Harrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10519801029696101409noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-444782456900159321.post-60004115752802406612016-03-12T22:01:00.001-06:002016-03-12T22:06:25.613-06:00WeWriWa - 3/13/16 - The Italian Hospital<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 200%;">Hello one and all! It's been about six months since we visited the Italian Hospital in Vicenza, Italy. In the last six months, my family and I have moved from Texas to Oklahoma and back to Texas again. The gypsy blood keeps pumping! I was able to wean one of my sons off of his ADHD medication and another, my baby Bitty, was found (after many tests and hospital visits) to have a GLUTEN allergy! Never, ever a dull moment at my house. Let's see what happened in the wood-paneled Italian hospital room where the bleeding and cramping in a young, pregnant Army wife waited, terrified.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in;"> I remember it like it was yesterday . . .</span></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><b>Oh
dear God . . . <o:p></o:p></b></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><b>The doctor barked something in Italian,
completely ignoring any shred of modesty I’d retained and any sense of privacy
I might have desired. <o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><b>“He said get on the bed, now,” the nurse
translated, grabbing my arm and helping me roughly onto the bed. I held my hand
out for the sheet, but she snatched it away. “No time,” she said. <o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><b>Someone had pulled a tiny sonogram machine
into the room. The doctor squirted the cold jelly onto my still-flat belly and
dug the probe into my flesh as the nurse manipulated my legs over the candy
cane stirrups just as I’d feared. Before I could get embarrassed, a strong,
thudding beat pounded out of the speakers apparently attached to this
particular machine.<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><b>“The baby is alive,” the nurse relayed,
relief evident in her strained English. “The doctor must use the internal probe
now.”</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I hope you enjoyed this ten-sentence snippet from my forthcoming memoir, <u>Missi Wanderin' in the Woods</u>. If you'd like to switch gears a bit, check out the rest of the weekend writers at the <a href="http://www.wewriwa.com/" target="_blank">Weekend Writing Warriors blog</a>. I have featured debut author <b><i>Madeline McCandless </i></b>and her contemporary western (spicy) romance, <u>Silver Sky at Dawn </u><i>(Silver Sky Ranch series #1)</i> on my <a href="http://aneverlastingheart.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Everlasting Heart blog</a>. Feel free to stop by and show her some love! </span></div>
Sara Harrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10519801029696101409noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-444782456900159321.post-85451976574935931902015-08-23T09:42:00.000-05:002015-08-23T09:42:27.428-05:00WeWriWa - August 23, 2015 - Missi Wanderin' in the Woods<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;">Welcome back, sorry I'm running behind. Back to school has thrown my schedule askew. Popping back into the Italian hospital room . . . </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large; line-height: 32px;"><i>Several more people had wandered in and one even left the door propped with his foot.</i></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>I glanced at Charlie, nervous, feeling Italian eyes burning through my skin. <span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; line-height: 200%;">This was more embarrassing than when I had
to give a urine sample at the post clinic and, while trying to manage my
four-year-old and two-year-old, wound up spilling the entire cup of pee in my pants.
“Ask if I get a sheet,” I begged.<o:p></o:p></span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>The nurse produced a piece of a sheet,
wide as a wash cloth and long as about five of them. I wiggled out of my
clothes as he tried to shield me with the sad excuse for a sheet. “I had no
idea it would be like this.” Over the sheet, I watched as the nurse unfurled
two giant metal stirrups from the end of the exam table; ones that resembled massive
candy canes and, if I was looking at them right, my feet didn’t rest in them,
but my legs went up and over them. A
fleeting vision of King Henry VIII’s torture chamber popped into my mind. A
deep cramp bent me over the table. </i></span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Thanks for popping by. To get back to the other Weekend Writing Warriors<a href="http://www.wewriwa.com/" target="_blank">, click here! </a></span></span></div>
Sara Harrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10519801029696101409noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-444782456900159321.post-67334800228512951242015-08-18T12:20:00.000-05:002015-08-18T12:20:57.766-05:00The Final Installment of The Saga of Indian Em'ly: The Journey Home is HERE!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFTIl1UWby_a5M3Zv209RdptDI00coI4YlMTRD8Awg_YhWMWx5IqGTIv7o3u3DXSiZqLQ8OLhZ6x2b0C19oKY4HUTXJBUTCIuqEzYJIPWtmqv_mku4V9utCqXqELW8C0L9JjiAvJdH6js/s1600/The+Saga+of+Indian+Em%2527ly+Bk+4+Web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFTIl1UWby_a5M3Zv209RdptDI00coI4YlMTRD8Awg_YhWMWx5IqGTIv7o3u3DXSiZqLQ8OLhZ6x2b0C19oKY4HUTXJBUTCIuqEzYJIPWtmqv_mku4V9utCqXqELW8C0L9JjiAvJdH6js/s320/The+Saga+of+Indian+Em%2527ly+Bk+4+Web.jpg" width="213" /></a><b style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.8500003814697px; line-height: 20.7900009155273px;"></b><br />
<b style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.8500003814697px; line-height: 20.7900009155273px;"><b style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.8500003814697px; line-height: 20.7900009155273px;">The fourth and final installment of the Indian Em'ly Saga is here . . . and just .99 cents! This is by far my favorite of the series, and I hope it will be yours too. <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Journey-Home-Saga-Indian-Emly-ebook/dp/B013SBJ0BW/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1439918162&sr=8-1&keywords=the+saga+of+indian+em%27ly" target="_blank">Get yours here! </a></b></b><br />
<b style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.8500003814697px; line-height: 20.7900009155273px;"><b style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.8500003814697px; line-height: 20.7900009155273px;"><br /></b></b>
<b style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.8500003814697px; line-height: 20.7900009155273px;">BLURB</b><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px;">Twelve-year-old Knocks Down and his little sister, Cactus Flower, manage to escape the evil orphanage along with a new pale face friend, Kid McCoy. But once they escape, they are set upon by a gang of murdering claim jumpers who steal Cactus and leave Knocks Down for dead. </span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px;">Determined to find his little sister, Knocks Down gets to the nearest town where they’ve taken her, only to discover she has been sold as a slave! With Kid McCoy’s help, Knocks Down goes after her. Escaping once more, they encounter an old nemesis, a soldier from the nearby fort that was responsible for their mother’s death—and he’s set on seeing Knocks Down and Cactus Flower dead, as well. </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.8500003814697px; line-height: 20.7900009155273px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px;">How can a boy defeat a battle-hardened soldier? Just when Knocks Down is about to give up, the biggest surprise of all changes everything on THE JOURNEY HOME…</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.8500003814697px; line-height: 20.7900009155273px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.8500003814697px; line-height: 20.7900009155273px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px;"><b>EXCERPT</b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.8500003814697px; line-height: 20.7900009155273px;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.8500003814697px; line-height: 20.7900009155273px;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px;"> The day passed quickly and in relative silence until Kid realized something. “Say Chief, where is it we’re headed, anyway?”</span></span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.8500003814697px; line-height: 20.7900009155273px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.8500003814697px; line-height: 20.7900009155273px;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px;"> I scanned the foreign horizon, an odd feeling suddenly gripping my backbone. “South,” I whispered, “back home, to the land of the Comanche.” Without thinking, I dropped to a crouch and let every sound fade away. Chirping birds, whistling wind, even the breath of Cactus and Kid. Every sound disappeared except the one that had pricked my ear and shot the rash of tingles in the first place. </span></span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.8500003814697px; line-height: 20.7900009155273px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.8500003814697px; line-height: 20.7900009155273px;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px;"> “Something has happened nearby.” </span></span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.8500003814697px; line-height: 20.7900009155273px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.8500003814697px; line-height: 20.7900009155273px;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px;"> Cactus slipped her hand into mine. “I hear it, too. Let’s go.”</span></span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.8500003814697px; line-height: 20.7900009155273px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.8500003814697px; line-height: 20.7900009155273px;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px;"> Kid scratched his head. “What’d I miss? I don’t hear nothin’.”</span></span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.8500003814697px; line-height: 20.7900009155273px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.8500003814697px; line-height: 20.7900009155273px;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px;"></span></span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.8500003814697px; line-height: 20.7900009155273px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.8500003814697px; line-height: 20.7900009155273px;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px;"> By the time we arrived at what was left of the pale face camp, Kid heard it too. The dog’s whimpering had grown louder with each step, and more mournful. There hadn’t been but six people in camp, two of them children, and no survivors. The dog, a hulking black beast with pointed ears, low hips and a long tail, lay by the body of the girl. Whining, he licked her face and nuzzled her hands, as if trying to wake her from a deep sleep.</span></span>Sara Harrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10519801029696101409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-444782456900159321.post-59154014795325674362015-08-15T12:57:00.002-05:002015-08-15T12:57:44.364-05:00WeWriWa - 8/15/15 - Missi Wanderin' in the Woods - The Italian ER<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Welcome back to this week's ten-sentence snippet from MISSI WANDERIN' IN THE WOODS. <a href="https://www.facebook.com/events/847443478684124/permalink/849529958475476/" target="_blank">Click here</a> if you would like to be a part of my blog tour for my forthcoming Amish Western, <b>Old Amarillo</b>, September 4-11, courtesy of Loving the Book blog tours. I would be honored to be hosted by my WeWriWa friends! Find my launch party on the 3rd of September <a href="https://www.facebook.com/events/524523681029739/" target="_blank">here</a>!</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Without further ado, let's see what's in store for Sara and Charlie and the baby they may have already lost . </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>I bit back a sob. “I understand, but I’d
really like a sonogram to be sure.”<o:p></o:p></i></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>“Go on about your business and if you’re
still cramping Tuesday, come into the walk-in clinic. After all, you’re just
ten weeks along.”<o:p></o:p></i></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Too upset to talk anymore, I handed the
phone off to Charlie, slunk to the bedroom, and buried my head in the pillow. The next morning after
dropping the kids off at the on-post childcare facility, Charlie packed me into
our pink and purple Volkswagen Beetle – Pink Floyd edition and took me to the
Italian Emergency Room, or l’ospedale.
<o:p></o:p></i></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>The nurse pulled us back first, before the
patients sitting in the strap-backed wheelchairs and through the jungle of glass bottles
that dangled from threatening IV poles that would have looked more at home in a
1960’s mental institution, and into a room no larger than a humble office with wood
paneling and magazine pictures of wolves taped onto the wall. A small exam table sat
off to the side, almost out of place amid the tangle of books and misbegotten
papers. The doctor, who hadn’t looked up from his work since we walked in,
mumbled something in Italian before turning around expectantly. <o:p></o:p></i></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i> “Strip now,” the nurse translated brusquely, “waist
down.”</i></b></span></span><b style="font-size: x-large;"><i> </i></b></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; line-height: 48px;">Thank you for popping by. Follow this link to get back to the other contributors for the weekly </span><a href="http://www.wewriwa.com/" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large; line-height: 48px;" target="_blank">Weekend Writing Warriors</a><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; line-height: 48px;"> blog hop where authors in all phases of publication post eight to ten sentences of the work of their choice and add their link so that readers may enjoy their work. Comments from others are what make this something we all look forward to each week, so feel free to let those fingers fly and tell how you feel about this and all of our snippets! </span></i>Sara Harrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10519801029696101409noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-444782456900159321.post-84154147599453681462015-08-15T01:15:00.000-05:002015-08-15T01:15:52.943-05:00Would you like a free advance review copy of OLD AMARILLO (AMISH JOURNEYS #1)?<div style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px; margin-bottom: 6px;">
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<div style="background-color: white; color: #141823; line-height: 19.3199996948242px; margin-bottom: 6px;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><i><b>Would you like a FREE advance copy of Old Amarillo (Amish Journeys #1) in exchange for a review? Sign up here to be a part of my blog tour through Loving the Book book blog tours!</b></i></span></div>
<span style="font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/events/847443478684124/" style="line-height: 19.3199996948242px;" target="_blank">Sara Barnard's OLD AMARILLO Book Blog Tour for AMISH JOURNEYS #1</a></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-size: x-large;">How about coming to hang out at the release party on September 3, for prizes and trivia and stuff? </span></i></b></div>
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/events/524523681029739/?ref=108&action_history=null" target="_blank">OLD AMARILLO Release Day Party!!</a></div>
Sara Harrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10519801029696101409noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-444782456900159321.post-90064387351647748072015-08-08T23:35:00.001-05:002015-08-08T23:35:19.901-05:00WeWriWa - August 8, 2015 - Missi Wanderin' in the Woods<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Welcome back to this week's snippet from Missi. Last week, our characters feared a miscarriage. Find out what happened next. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large; line-height: 200%;"><i>“I’m afraid I’ve lost our baby.” The
cramping was enough to double me over and the onslaught of impending hysteria
wasn’t helping. Charlie put me to bed and called the clinic on post. As luck
would have it, we were at the beginning of a four-day weekend. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<i style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large; line-height: 200%;">"I’m sure it’s just a simple miscarriage,”
the nurse explained, nonchalant. It sounded as though she were sucking on a lollipop. “God
does these things, let it happen naturally.” Then, she waited, letting her end of the line grow silent.</i><br />
<i style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large; line-height: 200%;"><br /></i>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="line-height: 48px;">Thank you for popping by. Follow this link to get back to the other contributors for the weekly <a href="http://www.wewriwa.com/" target="_blank">Weekend Writing Warriors</a> bloghop where authors in all phases of publication post eight to ten sentences of the work of their choice and add their link so that readers may enjoy their work. Comments from others are what make this something we all look forward to each week, so feel free to let those fingers fly and tell how you feel about this and all of our snippets! </span></span>Sara Harrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10519801029696101409noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-444782456900159321.post-30172886750441153622015-08-02T09:04:00.000-05:002015-08-02T09:04:21.478-05:00WeWriWa -August 2, 2015 - Missi Wanderin' in the Woods<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Welcome back! Last week, we got a peek into soldier Charlie's softer side when he insisted they go back to the Italian pound and adopt the twin brother of the little dog we'd just given a home. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large; line-height: 200%;"><b><i>Thoughts of our puppies fizzled as I glanced from my ring to his haggard face
and rested my hands on my belly again. Charlie seemed to read my thoughts. “I
am so, so sorry Sara, I love all of you, Lil’ Grub, too.”<o:p></o:p></i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Emotion threatened to choke me as I
remembered the night we almost lost our baby. I was ten weeks along and we’d
just made love. I went to the restroom to get ready for bed and discovered I
was bleeding. Big black clots trailed by bright red blood covered the bottom of
the tiny European toilet. I called for Charlie through a veil of
tears. </i></b></span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Follow this link to get back to the rest of the amazing <a href="http://www.wewriwa.com/" target="_blank">Weekend Writing Warriors</a>.</span></div>
Sara Harrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10519801029696101409noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-444782456900159321.post-74194557392375065752015-07-26T08:21:00.000-05:002015-07-26T08:21:58.843-05:00WeWriWa - July 26, 2015 - Missi Wanderin' in the Woods/ Sara and CharlieWelcome back everyone! Last week we left Sara, scared and pregnant in the Volkswagen. Let's delve a bit deeper into her mind today. <br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>My mind wandered back to our family, aside from our children. <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in;">We had visited the Italian version of
animal control, the </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in;">canile</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in;">, in hopes
of adopting a family pet and left with one of two twin puppies of unknown lineage. We promptly
named our new girl, who looked to be a mix between an Italian Greyhound and a border collie, Rosie Giulietta. Rosie for Caillou’s little sister and Giulietta for
Juliet, the most famous Italian. </span></i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in;"><i>After arriving home to our rented two story
villa in Arcugnano, the little mountain town just outside of Vicenza at the base
of the Dolomite Mountains, it was Charlie who insisted we go back for her
brother, the little black and white puppy with the floppy black ears. “I can’t
stand the thought of him being in there and missing his sister, and they’re so
young . . . plus, we are able to give them both a home, and it would make them happy.
Let’s go back and get him tomorrow.” That is how Rosie’s brother, Romeo, came
to live with us.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 32px;"><b>Thank you for stopping by! To get back to the amazing <a href="http://www.wewriwa.com/" target="_blank">WeWriWa bloghop</a> contributors here!</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 32px;"><b>Follow Sara's trail of trouble over at her website: <a href="http://www.sarabarnardbooks.com/">www.sarabarnardbooks.com</a> </b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 32px;"><b>Come check out the Prairie Rose Publications Christmas in July and Fandango! Join the event <a href="https://www.facebook.com/events/1608290686092159/" target="_blank">here</a>! All books 26 books are only .99 or if a duet, 1.99. Look for The Bank Robber's Lament, by me! <3 </b></span></span></div>
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Sara Harrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10519801029696101409noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-444782456900159321.post-69334989353072829952015-07-18T21:56:00.003-05:002015-07-18T22:00:06.620-05:00WeWriWa - July 18, 2015 - Missi Wanderin' in the Woods - What's Next for Charlie and Sara?<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Welcome back to the Weekend Writing Warriors bloghop and this week's eight to ten sentence snippet from a published, pre-published, or work-in-progress (or WIP). We are making our way through the first chapter of my forthcoming memoir, Missi Wanderin' in the Woods. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large; line-height: 200%;"><i><b>Last week, Charlie confessed that he'd been tossed out of the Army shrink's office for being honest and telling the psychiatrist exactly what he was thinking . . . scroll down and check out the last couple of entries for that little gem . . . and what earned him an MP escort out of that office, along with an invitation NOT to return. Let's see what happens next. </b></i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large; line-height: 200%;"><i>He chuckled again as my grim expression
transformed to a half-smile. Without meaning to, I let go a little laugh,
followed by a bigger one. Before either one of us could make sense of the
sudden onslaught of jocularity, it was there, just as real as either of us and
filling the car with much needed comic relief. Tears streamed down our faces as
we gasped for breath before becoming tickled all over again at our cacophony of
funny whoopings and whistlings and snorts.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>As our laughing jag faded away, Charlie
started our car – a pink and purple Volkswagen Golf, Pink Floyd Edition – as
the stark reality of our situation settled over me like a cloud of buzzards
over a rotting carcass. Here I was in Italy, pregnant, so far from home, and
with my two precious babies to protect. I had a husband, fresh from combat and
already exhibiting irrational, self-medicating behavior, who had just managed
to get himself blacklisted from the only psychiatrist within reasonable driving
distance. Just. By. Being. Honest. </i></span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Thank you for stopping by for this week's snippet of military madness. To get back to the other WeWriWa bloghop participants, follow this <a href="http://www.wewriwa.com/" target="_blank">link</a>. Thanks for stopping by and be sure to pop over to my Amish blog, <a href="http://sarasamishdreams.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Sara's Amish Dreams</a>, for a cover reveal! </span></div>
Sara Harrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10519801029696101409noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-444782456900159321.post-56970212960493480542015-07-16T08:16:00.000-05:002015-07-16T08:16:26.152-05:00Western Romance Box SetGood morning one and all! I hope this finds each one of you well and good this morning.<br />
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I have wonderful news. If you're looking for an affordable box set of five western romance novels, I hope you'll check out <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Cowboys-Heart-Western-Romance-Novels-ebook/dp/B00QEE7JPA/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1437051990&sr=8-1&keywords=a+cowboy%27s+heart+box+set&pebp=1437052023421&perid=1NQ157RBJTPHP79RYH30" target="_blank">A COWBOY'S HEART. </a> Just .99 cents!</div>
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Right now, it is climbing in Amazon's top 100 bestselling Western Romance books! </div>
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<img src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51G9j6fBOsL._SX419_BO1,204,203,200_.jpg" /></div>
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<b>Here's a bit about each book featured in this box set . . .</b></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px; text-align: start;">In Cheryl Pierson’s time travel story, TIME PLAINS DRIFTER, Romantic Times reviewer Donna M. Brown says, “4.5 stars…Cheryl Pierson's fresh, well-crafted novel pits some unlikely heroes against evil incarnate. The characters are vibrant and tell a story of courage in difficult circumstances.”</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px; text-align: start;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px; text-align: start;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px; text-align: start;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px; text-align: start;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px; text-align: start;">THE CALLING is an inspirational tale by Sara Barnard about a young man who turns away from God and the woman he loves to follow the outlaw trail. But love holds true and Esau can’t forget the past as God pushes him to face his sins and make things right again in a most unusual way!</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px; text-align: start;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px; text-align: start;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px; text-align: start;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px; text-align: start;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px; text-align: start;">In CLAIMING HIS HEART by Tanya Hanson, a handsome stranger who arrives in a peaceful California valley bearing a mysterious letter leaves Charmlee no choice but marriage to him. But Charmlee and Tulsa each have plans of their own. Is there a bigger dream for the future ahead that they can’t see?</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px; text-align: start;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px; text-align: start;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px; text-align: start;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px; text-align: start;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px; text-align: start;">ALL FOR LOVE by Beverly Wells tells a gut-wrenching tale of social injustice in Wyoming of the 1880’s. Lorelei Webster, schoolmarm, tries to right the wrongs of the small town she’s a part of, and hopes for the help of the town doctor, Seth Taylor. Will her determination spark more than friendship between them as they work together?</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px; text-align: start;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px; text-align: start;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px; text-align: start;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px; text-align: start;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px; text-align: start;">Is Leroy Vance a SAINT OR SINNER? Gil McDonald pens a riveting tale of a hard hearted bounty hunter, hot on the heels of a gang of outlaws. Injured and on foot, Vance faces almost certain death. But when he realizes that there is a young woman and her brother who desperately need his help, he risks everything for them. Will this bounty hunter and sinner finally find true love with the wife of another man? Or will any of them get out alive?</span></div>
Sara Harrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10519801029696101409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-444782456900159321.post-51086235931890013402015-07-11T23:07:00.000-05:002015-07-11T23:07:30.632-05:00WeWriWa - Missi Wanderin' in the Woods - July 12, 2015<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 32px; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">Last week, we finally found out what Charlie did to get thrown out of the Army shrink's office with an MP escort. <i>He told the truth. </i>Many of you commented and stated that you weren't sure how you would have reacted to news that your husband told the shrink he was dreaming of throwing her out the window . . . let's see what happens next. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Cupping my hands around my mouth and nose, I closed my eyes. I didn’t have time to draw a breath before he continued.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">“Her eyes got real wide. Real, like, deathly wide. Then she went all white and picked up the phone.” Charlie gave a little laugh, breaking the solemnity that had filled the car. “Then the MP’s came. Thought they were gonna arrest me, and I said for what, telling the truth?”</span><br />
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To get back and sample more from other delectable Weekend Writing Warriors, click <a href="http://www.wewriwa.com/" target="_blank">here</a>. </div>
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My debut novel, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Heart-Hold-An-Everlasting-Book-ebook/dp/B008UFPJ0S" target="_blank">A Heart on Hold</a>, is on sale for just .99 this week! Get yours <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Heart-Hold-An-Everlasting-Book-ebook/dp/B008UFPJ0S" target="_blank">here</a>! See where we are falling in love with Charlotte and Sanderson eight sentences at a time on my Everlasting Heart blog <a href="http://aneverlastingheart.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">here</a>. </div>
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Keep up to date with my upcoming releases at<a href="http://www.sarabarnardbooks.com/" target="_blank"> my website</a>. </div>
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Sara Harrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10519801029696101409noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-444782456900159321.post-50955730933226681732015-07-04T22:56:00.003-05:002015-07-04T22:59:02.520-05:00Missi Wanderin' in the Woods - WeWriWa - July 5, 2015 - What Got Charlie Kicked Out of the Shrink's Office with an MP Escort?!?!?<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in;">Thanks for stopping by this week. In the time since we've met last, we have had quite a few adventures: an interstate move, a mess of new baby animals added to the pack, and a family vacation to my cancer doctor down at MD Anderson. Scroll down for those posts, if you'd like to read about those adventures :-) </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in;">Now, to get caught up to speed on MISSI WANDERIN' IN THE WOODS, my forthcoming memoir where one woman must rely on her eclectic wilderness background to face a host of frontcountry problems, from a PTSD-infected marriage to an extreme cancer diagnosis. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in;">In our last eight-to-ten sentence snippet, our fresh-from-Afghanistan Charlie had just gotten himself escorted from the Army psychiatrist's office by the MP's . . . but his pregnant wife has yet to find out why. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: large;">Charlie quit his cyclic observation of our
surroundings and stilled in his seat. “I answered her truthfully and said that yes, yes I do think of killing,
<i>dream </i>of killing . . . often.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Chills chased each other up and down my
spine, dancing a terrifying dance that brought beads of sweat to my face. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: large;">“That’s not all.” Charlie’s voice was
uncharacteristically soft, “then she said I got a funny look on my face and she
got real sarcastic and said ‘Well what are you thinking about<i> right now</i>?’” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: large;">I swiped at the pearls of sweat that had
begun their epic descent. Already, I dreaded hearing what would come next. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: large;">“So again, I told the truth . . . I told her I
was thinking about what sound her body would make when I threw her out that
second story window and she hit the concrete sidewalk below.”</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<i><b>Thank you for stopping by today and I hope you had a wonderful Fourth of July holiday! To get back to the other wonderful Weekend Writing Warrior contributors, <a href="http://www.wewriwa.com/" target="_blank">follow this link here.</a> </b></i><br />
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<i><b>If you would like to keep up to speed on my current releases and forthcoming events, feel free to check out my <a href="http://www.sarabarnardbooks.com/" target="_blank">website </a>or on Twitter @TheSaraBarnard </b></i><br />
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Sara Harrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10519801029696101409noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-444782456900159321.post-41967060529852376822015-07-02T19:34:00.000-05:002015-07-02T19:34:36.230-05:00New Babies, MD Anderson, and a Beached SharkWell, I failed again on my eight sentences for Sunday. Part of the reason is I was too dog-tired to even open my computer while the other part is I got off track on my days and forgot it was Sunday! My scheduler for posts has never worked on here, thus rendering me gone another week. However, I have interesting stories to share with you as a result as my most recent MD Anderson visit.<br />
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As many of you know, I have to be seen at MD Anderson in Houston every three months as the result of a cancer diagnosis that shook my world just under a year ago -- it shook my world alright, and saved my life. Sound strange? It does to me, too, which is why I had to write about it, just to make it make sense. That book is almost done :-)<br />
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Well, check out some of our adventures while there . . .<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh4XedBO7pt5JLNVrARkxqqcZW4D5d1DVK3ERWz0DR5zWA5SR1EICIOuRYJfempfIqGUXTyKAQDAcOReOncrFybwt62OBDfkxlghRtqVX9kcbWPBbE5xDpuvb4-yiPmj3WHPguzMG_P7o/s1600/InTheSea.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh4XedBO7pt5JLNVrARkxqqcZW4D5d1DVK3ERWz0DR5zWA5SR1EICIOuRYJfempfIqGUXTyKAQDAcOReOncrFybwt62OBDfkxlghRtqVX9kcbWPBbE5xDpuvb4-yiPmj3WHPguzMG_P7o/s640/InTheSea.jpg" width="360" /></a>We braved the beaches at the end of a jetty in Galveston . . . this picture was taken just before my daughter's foot was stung by a jellyfish (we still don't know what kind) and we had our first encounter with a fin in the water . . .</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiohxlvdzCqXJvvAqgFk_3zVwrYWj9fSfdh7gKaw9_v_N-4XNpk6MELNTuPeTvgiqWDA17WXLt3JZr8EgEi2FzOBDkjamKHKXWhbUqd5p6TqtoatyCSUxwFRtv7Vod5AV4cXzv1hzxbWeY/s1600/BonnetHeadShark.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiohxlvdzCqXJvvAqgFk_3zVwrYWj9fSfdh7gKaw9_v_N-4XNpk6MELNTuPeTvgiqWDA17WXLt3JZr8EgEi2FzOBDkjamKHKXWhbUqd5p6TqtoatyCSUxwFRtv7Vod5AV4cXzv1hzxbWeY/s320/BonnetHeadShark.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
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This baby Bonnethead shark flopped up on the beach right <b><i>behind </i></b>the kids and me, at my husband and son's feet. I immediately snatched him up for a photo op. He was so sweet and precious!! I wondered how anyone could ever be scared of them. Then again, he was just a baby. I put him back in the water, he swam back to my feet . . . several times. The surf was so rough. Finally, I think he made it back out to the sea. I watched and watched for that sweet little fin.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhYqHs8KcKSeLee6u1fGfFBTGhjbCHJ_dnaZGoiHKoH_LcqZKXIEMmOOScMj_GT53zSUWAYEtOiYYvB8qiFaQVod4YthbWNE9Fifatlt6mp-jUz4X11j-QaLW-VFiZewVXNLdbpzo54xM/s1600/FamilyRainForestRide.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhYqHs8KcKSeLee6u1fGfFBTGhjbCHJ_dnaZGoiHKoH_LcqZKXIEMmOOScMj_GT53zSUWAYEtOiYYvB8qiFaQVod4YthbWNE9Fifatlt6mp-jUz4X11j-QaLW-VFiZewVXNLdbpzo54xM/s320/FamilyRainForestRide.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Before my appointment, we made our pilgrimage to the Rain Forest Cafe. Not for the food, but for the river ride in the back! We had just come out of the ocean and were soaking wet and shivering in this picture!</div>
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After my appointment, and a good report (of only some changes, but none cancerous . . . back in three months) we lit out for Dallas where these beautiful kids were waiting for us! We named them Banana and Carrot. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIe7Dz361CWTYzP29wQqHAmPgFP6gBYV9ig31EFqMcukeWPDXsmFA9yhEJnzxzyJTNpMiFefLXvQXLwUuqy_G_Y-iva1PS5pLdf59Us8BjetWPziMW4RpWQQnQF0wvOvBtdDyeuVBuqDY/s1600/mountaingoat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIe7Dz361CWTYzP29wQqHAmPgFP6gBYV9ig31EFqMcukeWPDXsmFA9yhEJnzxzyJTNpMiFefLXvQXLwUuqy_G_Y-iva1PS5pLdf59Us8BjetWPziMW4RpWQQnQF0wvOvBtdDyeuVBuqDY/s320/mountaingoat.jpg" width="176" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdjIVgZWktGvRyENJNChwCUVXQOlEFnMZhG8Bia-OWbFGXZian43o3ir8o-QkXJXd5A1jcdBC8GgT-oWG01yGY2PNci_QO5kvfcrg_N089NRN5YGet5x1epVBHk11RBWN_1s480YsiQ-k/s1600/TwoTinyGoatlets.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdjIVgZWktGvRyENJNChwCUVXQOlEFnMZhG8Bia-OWbFGXZian43o3ir8o-QkXJXd5A1jcdBC8GgT-oWG01yGY2PNci_QO5kvfcrg_N089NRN5YGet5x1epVBHk11RBWN_1s480YsiQ-k/s320/TwoTinyGoatlets.jpg" width="176" /></a></div>
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And that brings us to an end :-) Hopefully -- now that I have reliable internet, the appointment out of the way, and a desk to work from, I will see you here Sunday for eight sentences :-)</div>
Sara Harrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10519801029696101409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-444782456900159321.post-42803556984352549592015-06-22T14:26:00.000-05:002015-06-22T14:26:25.587-05:00Hello from our new Home-uh!<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><i>I have missed the last three weeks of eight-sentence posts and I would like to answer a few of the questions I received via email, right here on my blog! </i></b></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px; text-align: center;">A sweeping storm coming in from the north</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><i>First of all, thank you so much for getting in touch and making me feel missed and loved. <3 We were in the process of moving from our home in the deep recesses of west Texas back to our favorite part of friendly, green, and historic Oklahoma. Thus the reason for my cheeky title -- Oklahoma, our new home-uh . . . get it? :-) </i></b></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxM7JpXyF2alCWwgMgGRNwZfwn8vYTarY5Z0pHnpKYwE26vRP6YGCQT94BuUdq0Vo4RHbx_XCZZ3n59Oz2GexptVXnIBOIK6sP8u3YAaPt4o6b4w4myppjN4qzEd9sxw2UkFPX9nHo1rcH/s1600/BabyChickens.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxM7JpXyF2alCWwgMgGRNwZfwn8vYTarY5Z0pHnpKYwE26vRP6YGCQT94BuUdq0Vo4RHbx_XCZZ3n59Oz2GexptVXnIBOIK6sP8u3YAaPt4o6b4w4myppjN4qzEd9sxw2UkFPX9nHo1rcH/s320/BabyChickens.jpg" width="176" /></a><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><i>Secondly, we have been here about three weeks and we just were hooked up to internet today. How we managed working just off our phones is a minor miracle, but we survived! It is good to be back online. </i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><i>Here are a few of the things that have changed in the three weeks since I saw you last . . . </i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><i>We gained some pets, 17 exactly. All Easter Egger hens, arrived to us two days old. Each one has a name, courtesy of my daughter, who will be raising them. I may hold a contest later to see who can guess them with some creative hints. Right now, they live in a brooder box that Dear Hubby built just for them (we call it Chicken Palace) between the laundry room and the hallway. (The garage was too hot!)</i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Soon, these two cuties will be joining us, too!</i></span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLrwSftA7mdIh3q26FneNApAxUQktj_S8kxXmx3gURW9cr677piNDtCqIynKvm0duPa6n0OTCRzq5DWTEnWVyzIG7oPAkBhxI5lZaFJ0WuUjiaF5e7oeN2ZOr6N9Zet0QM2RjRwrWQCNt-/s1600/Banana.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLrwSftA7mdIh3q26FneNApAxUQktj_S8kxXmx3gURW9cr677piNDtCqIynKvm0duPa6n0OTCRzq5DWTEnWVyzIG7oPAkBhxI5lZaFJ0WuUjiaF5e7oeN2ZOr6N9Zet0QM2RjRwrWQCNt-/s200/Banana.jpg" width="200" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidqVlCnvPdkNNOrzkjqjc7h_i0T-Co9eGuQDaatW2_xgqITIvIbveM-e_D2DvgJlLW5MSxUVeS10tqVsE_j83JHl_tTosUaHBUb4T33vT0Qia8oyezYXE1lQdtjTzwFgN7KUlmUADYu1Nx/s1600/CarrotTheGoat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidqVlCnvPdkNNOrzkjqjc7h_i0T-Co9eGuQDaatW2_xgqITIvIbveM-e_D2DvgJlLW5MSxUVeS10tqVsE_j83JHl_tTosUaHBUb4T33vT0Qia8oyezYXE1lQdtjTzwFgN7KUlmUADYu1Nx/s200/CarrotTheGoat.jpg" width="200" /></a> </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"> <span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Banana to the left and Carrot to the right. They'll be here in early July to join the brood!</i></b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Lastly, eight sentence snippets start again Sunday :-) </i></b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Thank you again for all of your support!!</i></b></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEislPNCLHaVnzAbBzNYJZThbwpBZD2X1JLpopVyt3gdejNV2OWFU0XwkrYj13MNdSY7vW0NraDdFFJbEI1G_xgXQLJoW2n7cG9EVJqQGA8b6KrukEKruG5hyViSpIC6vYHq2gRDWrkKhhIk/s1600/JerryAndMe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEislPNCLHaVnzAbBzNYJZThbwpBZD2X1JLpopVyt3gdejNV2OWFU0XwkrYj13MNdSY7vW0NraDdFFJbEI1G_xgXQLJoW2n7cG9EVJqQGA8b6KrukEKruG5hyViSpIC6vYHq2gRDWrkKhhIk/s320/JerryAndMe.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>Sara Harrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10519801029696101409noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-444782456900159321.post-71997643789513380882015-05-30T21:10:00.000-05:002015-05-30T21:10:35.143-05:00WeWriWa - May 31, 2015 - Missi Wanderin' in the Woods<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Welcome back to this week's snippet from my forthcoming memoir, MISSI WANDERIN' IN THE WOODS, where one woman must rely on her back country experiences to get her through some of life's toughest trials -- from a PTSD-infected marriage marriage to an extreme cancer diagnosis. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4tkHWEIxBn5J-RHlUKqqkF4hI9-WGxVGcQe9d72h5A8tDR6mqzlp9wH9uUhScsHgRWpLyHZ_rm5gluib9hANpmXi1-3_ovxH8365T6YkSRC9HmJ1nzd7y3hGTJTyhMeWZMTkcrL-xwOs/s1600/sarajerrydeployment.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4tkHWEIxBn5J-RHlUKqqkF4hI9-WGxVGcQe9d72h5A8tDR6mqzlp9wH9uUhScsHgRWpLyHZ_rm5gluib9hANpmXi1-3_ovxH8365T6YkSRC9HmJ1nzd7y3hGTJTyhMeWZMTkcrL-xwOs/s320/sarajerrydeployment.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">I gulped and adjusted my growing weight in the
seat. “And . . . what did, um, you say?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Driver side mirror, rear view mirror,
passenger side mirror, over the shoulder, out the window. Driver side mirror,
rear view mirror, passenger side mirror, over the shoulder, out the window.
“The truth, like you told me to.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Sucking in the side of my cheek, I waited
for him to continue. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">He didn’t. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">“What </span><i style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">is </i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">the truth?” I caught a squeak at
the end of my word. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">Check out the other eight sentence offerings from wonderful weekend writing warriors <a href="http://www.wewriwa.com/" target="_blank">here</a>. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">If you are a fan of Amish fiction, enjoy my latest excerpt from my forthcoming Amish fiction novel, OLD AMARILLO <a href="http://sarasamishdreams.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">here</a>.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 32px;">If historical romance is more your genre, you might like my debut novel - eight sentences at a time - A HEART ON HOLD <a href="http://aneverlastingheart.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">here</a>. </span></span>Sara Harrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10519801029696101409noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-444782456900159321.post-28437349264668888502015-05-23T18:28:00.000-05:002015-05-23T18:28:24.334-05:00WeWriWa - May 24, 2015 - Missi Wanderin' in the Woods<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 32px;">Welcome back to this eight-sentence snippet from my forthcoming memoir, Missi Wanderin' in the Woods. I hope you're enjoying the ride so far! Without further ado, come back to the car with me where pregnant Sara is questioning her fresh-from-combat-husband's sanity after he has just been forced to spend three hours talking to a woman shrink, who happened to be Muslim, after a PTSD-induced freakout. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><br /></span>
<b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; line-height: 200%;">Whatever had clouded Charlie's eyes passed
almost as quickly as it had come, and he began to speak as I exhaled a shaky breath and weaved my fingers protectively about my pregnant belly. </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 200%;">“The Muslim headshrinker, she asked me the same
question a million ways and none if it was about what happened between us . . . </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 200%;">s</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 200%;">he
didn’t even let me talk about that</span><i style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 200%;">.</i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 200%;">” Finally, his darting gaze fell on me and
stayed there a moment before flitting off again to check the driver side
mirror, rear view mirror, passenger side mirror, over the shoulder, out the
window. Driver side mirror, rear view mirror, passenger side mirror, over the
shoulder, out the window. “She just kept asking if I wanted to hurt myself or
someone else. </span><i style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 200%;">Kill</i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 200%;"> myself or someone
else. If I thought about combat, </span><i style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 200%;">dreamed</i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 200%;">
about combat.” A sudden tell-tale glaze of perspiration gave his face an
otherworldly glow.</span></span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 200%;"><br /></span></span></b>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 32px;"><b>Thank you for stopping by! Visit my other eight-sentence snippets by following the links below!</b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 32px;"><b><a href="http://sarasamishdreams.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Sara's Amish Dreams</a> where eight sentences from my forthcoming Amish fiction work, Old Amarillo, are shared each week. </b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 32px;"><b><a href="http://aneverlastingheart.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">An Everlasting Heart</a> where you can fall in love with Charlotte and Sanderson from the very beginning of my bestselling Civil War era debut novel, A Heart on Hold. </b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 32px;"><b>Get back to the other eight-sentence offerings by awesome WeWriWa writers <a href="http://www.wewriwa.com/" target="_blank">here</a>!</b></span></span></div>
</div>
Sara Harrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10519801029696101409noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-444782456900159321.post-70066569256998270892015-05-17T09:13:00.000-05:002015-05-17T09:13:25.643-05:00WeWriWa - 5/17/15 - Missi Wanderin' in the Woods Welcome back, y'all! Here we go . . .<br />
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">“What did . . . mean,” I huffed,
struggling to keep up, “when you said . . . honest like I told you to be?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Luckily, we were coming up on the car and
his stride slowed considerably. Without missing a beat he went to my side first
and opened the door, as usual, and waited until I was situated before shutting
it and getting in himself. His hands were trembling and his eyes darted from
side to side, as though he was just waiting for someone to appear at the
window. Something in his eyes gave me the impression he <i>wanted</i> something to appear, just so he could deal with it. Icy
fingers of fear gripped my spine, leaving me with a sense of utter, terrifying
helplessness in the passenger seat. <i>What
if he flipped and felt he had to deal with me?</i> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">Whatever had clouded
his eyes passed almost as quickly as it had come, and he began to speak. “She
asked me the same question a million ways, and none if it was about what
happened between us . . . she didn’t even let me talk about that.” </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">Thanks for stopping by and riding the storm out with me as we make our way through the first chapter of my forthcoming memoir, Missi Wanderin' in the Woods! Leave me a comment and tell me your thoughts, if you like :-) </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">To get back to the other awesome <a href="http://www.wewriwa.com/" target="_blank">WeWriWa authors, go here!</a> </span>Sara Harrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10519801029696101409noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-444782456900159321.post-31240141871967233322015-05-09T17:38:00.000-05:002015-05-09T17:38:01.391-05:00WeWriWa - May 10, 2015- Missi Wanderin' in the Woods<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large; line-height: 200%;">Welcome back to this week's eight sentence snippet from my forthcoming memoir, MISSI WANDERIN' IN THE WOODS. Before we "jump right into it" as I like to say, I want to say thank you to each of you readers. Thank you for stopping by each week to share in this story with me. Writing it and reliving it has been painful (but healing) and sharing it has been even more so. Thank you for your time, your comments, your attention, and most of all, just for stopping by. Now, let's get down to it :-)</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> </span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">***</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">“Yes sir Sergeant,” the pair of Military Police mumbled in
unison. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">“I <i>said</i>,” Charlie roared, “is that
<i>clear</i>!?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">The duo snapped to attention, just
as they had no doubt done in Basic Training and replied with a well rehearsed and very military, “Yes <i>SIR</i>!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Finally, Charlie lowered his voice to a
guttural growl: “Don’t sir me, goddam it; just get out of here.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">As quick as the MP’s were retreating,
Charlie spun and began a near sprint in the opposite direction. I stretched my
legs to keep up with his quick strides. Despite being in relatively good
shape from my recent job of loading luggage for American Airlines, I was
puffing after just a couple of minutes, holding my swollen belly to keep Lil’
Grub from jiggling too much. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">***</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Explore other talented <a href="http://www.wewriwa.com/" target="_blank">WEWRIWA participants by going here</a>! </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Check out my forthcoming <a href="http://www.sarasamishdreams.com/" target="_blank">Amish novel excerpt, Old Amarillo, here</a>!</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Check out my <a href="http://www.aneverlastingheart.com/" target="_blank">Civil War novel excerpt, A Heart on Hold (with buy links for the box set of all four books!) here</a>!</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><b>Need an editor for your manuscript or work in progress? Email me at silverlineeditorial@gmail.com to discuss your editorial needs! WeWriWa participants: ask me about your awesome writer's discount <3</b></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><br /></span></div>
Sara Harrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10519801029696101409noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-444782456900159321.post-12413447433511227502015-05-02T09:25:00.001-05:002015-05-02T11:11:24.511-05:00WeWriWa - May 3, 2015 - Missi Wanderin' in the Woods<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Welcome back to this week's eight sentence snippet from my forthcoming memoir from Missi Wanderin' in the Woods! Let's see how Charlie, the soldier who had just sought help for PTSD symptoms only to be escorted out of Mental Health by Military Police and told not to come back. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">“Just
so long as we’re clear,” the smaller officer snorted as they turned to go.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Charlie stiffened. “Excuse me?” Both
MPs froze, their backs to us, as my</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in;"> husband with the dreamy dimples
continued, his already loud voice now a bellow. “You two may be Military Police, but I am still
your senior NCO, so turn around and stand at attention for God’s sake!”</span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Wind gone from their sails, the Private
First Class and Corporal slowly turned. “I appreciate your doing your job, but
you <i>will</i> conform to military
standards when addressing your senior NCO. Is that <i>clear</i>?”<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Get back to other Weekend Writing Warrior participants <a href="http://www.wewriwa.com/" target="_blank">here</a>! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><br /></span></div>
Sara Harrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10519801029696101409noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-444782456900159321.post-49654845331943134252015-04-25T10:58:00.000-05:002015-04-25T10:58:35.071-05:00WeWriWa - April 26, 2015 - Missi Wanderin' in the Woods<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Welcome back to this week's eight-sentence excerpt from my forthcoming memoir, <b>MISSI WANDERIN' IN THE WOODS.</b> Last week, Sara followed two MP's into the dark Mental Health wing of the Army Clinic where her husband, Charlie, had his first appointment. Our last scene closed with Charlie being escorted out by the MP's and a pregnant Sara wondering what in the world was going on. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">******************************************************************************</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Charlie, however, didn’t lower his voice as heat flooded my face.
“I was honest, just like you told me to be.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Once outside, the MPs clarified the
situation without going into detail, also without lowering their voices. “Sergeant,
do you understand that you are not to enter this facility unless for a valid
medical reason and you are forbidden to make any appointments with Mental
Health until a new provider arrives?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Charlie puffed out his chest and squared
his shoulders. “Yes <i>Private</i>, I do.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">Most of those peeping eyes from the clinic
had followed us outside, anxious to catch a glimpse of the dirty laundry that my
husband had no intention of hiding. Covering my face with my hands, I wanted to
melt into a puddle.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">Thank you for stopping by and sharing in these experiences with me! Though MISSI WANDERIN' IN THE WOODS is nonfiction, please feel free to visit my other two blogs dedicated to my distinctly different fiction works: </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><a href="http://sarasamishdreams.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Sara's Amish Dreams</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><a href="http://aneverlastingheart.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">An Everlasting Heart</a></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">Weekend Writing Warriors are a group of diverse, talented,and passionate authors who share pieces of their hearts and souls in eight sentence snippets each week in this bloghop. Check out their work, fall in love with their books, and be sure to leave them a comment on their blogs :-) <a href="http://www.wewriwa.com/" target="_blank">Reach out to them here!</a></span>Sara Harrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10519801029696101409noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-444782456900159321.post-87546242517389578382015-04-21T20:58:00.000-05:002015-04-21T21:22:57.926-05:00Welcome author Pete Abela!<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Please join me in welcoming author Pete Abela to the blog today! </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghaJsNXhUFQ7_3Y-e6phw4uj0w0Avn6FNK31mnDoG8NI-CxploVwShGZ7oxBS8ee1EnfZcN9uX5oLNgIzaIzaUlSSiI17Pf2jHmtSwi4ApSYByiO3vfZvQjPdkxpg5TwKgcZkQXVULN20/s1600/Pete-Avatar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghaJsNXhUFQ7_3Y-e6phw4uj0w0Avn6FNK31mnDoG8NI-CxploVwShGZ7oxBS8ee1EnfZcN9uX5oLNgIzaIzaUlSSiI17Pf2jHmtSwi4ApSYByiO3vfZvQjPdkxpg5TwKgcZkQXVULN20/s1600/Pete-Avatar.jpg" height="320" width="290" /></a><b><i><span style="font-size: large;">Hi Pete! I have read your book WINGS and to be quite honest, I was blown away. From historical accuracy to the passion in your words about your subject . . . this book simply has it all. Can you tell us a little bit about WINGS?</span></i></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Wings-Pete-Abela-ebook/dp/B00RY3362U/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1429667817&sr=8-1&keywords=wings+pete+abela" target="_blank">WINGS </a>tells the story of Walt and his grandson
Scott, who both have a fierce longing to fly albeit in vastly different circumstances.
Walt - who grew up in the depression - found out first hand that becoming a
pilot takes sacrifice and tenacity. When World War II broke out, he pestered the
RAF (Royal Air Force) for eighteen months before they finally accepted him. Scott spent his
childhood listening to tales of his Grandfather's aerial exploits and developed
an intense craving to be a pilot. However, the number of people wanting to be a
pilot vastly outweighs the limited opportunities on offer. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuXIMW0ANaMoyDq-5plt5dr_CAbpYvkbkYgSfxeYonXjtTeVadO6RT5qkmxakNHUEWcCAbJpylX_xAFu6DTBaHPJbYBgoNm1QIifUKbgTha7HOx_L8eqFHmbT4PFBJ02eKOA5zb_ZwD9I/s1600/Wings-Cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuXIMW0ANaMoyDq-5plt5dr_CAbpYvkbkYgSfxeYonXjtTeVadO6RT5qkmxakNHUEWcCAbJpylX_xAFu6DTBaHPJbYBgoNm1QIifUKbgTha7HOx_L8eqFHmbT4PFBJ02eKOA5zb_ZwD9I/s1600/Wings-Cover.jpg" height="400" width="266" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>How interesting! What drew me in was the way you were able to combine Walt's yellowed, reminiscent memories with Scott's modern day exploits. Who is this story more aimed toward?</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">WINGS weaves together two tales: one set in war-torn northern England, and the other
set in the modern-day Illawarra region of New South Wales. As Scott progresses,
his grandfather declines – Walt loses his wife, his sight and his hearing – but
throughout these difficulties is still there to offer support and
encouragement. With insights into the modern aviation scene and life in the
Royal Air Force of World War II, this is a must for anyone who has an interest
in history, aviation or simply an old fashioned love story.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>It really felt as though you had personal connections to your characters, thus lending the feeling of familiarity to your readers. Are Scott and Walt based on real people? </i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Although <i>Wings</i> is a novel, I did draw inspiration
from two men I greatly admire. The first is my grandfather who was a fighter
pilot during World War II; the other is my younger brother who is a commercial
pilot with a major Australian airline.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I consider
them both to have lived through fascinating, unusual and difficult
circumstances and I thought I could draw on and extend some of their
experiences as the basis for this novel. One of the scenes I really enjoyed
writing is the story of Walt’s wedding. He was given a 48 hour leave pass to get
married, although more than a quarter of the time would be spent travelling.
Heavy snow held up the train and it began to look as if he would not make it
home. Given Walt was about to be posted overseas for twelve months, these few
hours with his sweetheart were very important. I enjoyed this because of the
contrast between the situation faced by Walt and the relative luxury and
freedom we enjoy today.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Thank you so much for being here today! I hope you'll be willing to come back and share with us two more of your vastly different works -- A PAINTED ROOM and LESSONS FROM A TWO YEAR OLD! How can readers find out more about you and find your works? </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Author Name: Pete Abela<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 18.3999996185303px;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Website: http://peteabela.blogspot.com.au<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 18.3999996185303px;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Twitter: @PeteAbela<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 18.3999996185303px;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Facebook: facebook.com/PeteAbela</span></div>
<o:p></o:p>Sara Harrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10519801029696101409noreply@blogger.com4