tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-56436896773129855112024-03-15T18:11:56.322-07:00.Leah Marie Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05432159961271108072noreply@blogger.comBlogger153125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5643689677312985511.post-75049267417196205982017-11-08T12:32:00.001-08:002017-11-08T12:32:51.084-08:00Christmas Wishes: A slingshot and a wonky-eyed angel<div style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 32.4px; margin-bottom: 1.1em; padding: 0px; word-wrap: break-word;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qfEm6jS5Qd4/WgNphNFFl6I/AAAAAAAAEw0/JyyrAms5bl88K3dIgrqfrxK09AbB1ftdACLcBGAs/s1600/Leah%2BWith%2BSanta.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: white; clear: left; color: #444444; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="516" data-original-width="333" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qfEm6jS5Qd4/WgNphNFFl6I/AAAAAAAAEw0/JyyrAms5bl88K3dIgrqfrxK09AbB1ftdACLcBGAs/s320/Leah%2BWith%2BSanta.jpg" width="206" /></a><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">Grace Murphy was a latchkey kid. The protagonist of <em style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: inherit; line-height: 1; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">Finding Colin</em> was the only child of a single, working mother, which means she grew up spending a lot of time alone and learning how to fend for herself. Now, grown-up and truly on her own, Grace dreads the Holidays.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">I was also a latchkey kid. I grew up in the 1970s as the only child of a single, working mother. I wore second-hand clothes and an itchy piece of yarn with my housekey attached to it around my neck. In other words, I <em style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: inherit; line-height: 1; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">feel</em>Grace’s pain.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">I was more fortunate than Grace, though. My mother worked her slender fingers to the bones to make my Christmases special, to fill them with traditions and memories I now cherish. <a href="https://hobbyreads.wordpress.com/2017/11/06/author-post-by-leah-marie-brown/" target="_blank">(Click to finish article) </a></span></span></div>
Leah Marie Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05432159961271108072noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5643689677312985511.post-55714805059391510732017-10-12T07:31:00.001-07:002017-10-12T07:32:36.483-07:00Ask Santa To Slip These Into Your Stocking<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I know what you are thinking, "I am still sewing my Halloween costume. It's too early to think about Christmas!"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Is it ever too early to spread a little holiday cheer? I don't think so! To celebrate the release of my anthology, <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Winter-Wishes-Fern-Michaels/dp/1420135724/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8" target="_blank">Winter Wishes</a>, I am bringing you, dear reader, two early Christmas gifts.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">My first gift is news about the 12 Days of Christmas Giveaway, an exciting reader appreciation event sponsored six bestselling romance authors - <a href="http://www.julesbennett.com/" target="_blank">Jules Bennett</a>, <a href="http://www.leahmariebrown.com/" target="_blank">Leah Marie Brown (me)</a>, <a href="https://www.allysoncharles.com/" target="_blank">Allyson Charles</a>, <a href="http://kierankramer.com/" target="_blank">Kieran Kramer</a>, <a href="http://www.fernmichaels.com/" target="_blank">Fern Michaels</a>, and <a href="http://www.susanlyons.ca/index.php" target="_blank">Susan Fox</a>. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Starting on October 16, 2017, we will be giving away one prize per day for ELEVEN DAYS and a huge prize on the TWELFTH DAY (it's a fab final prize).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">12 days of prizes, bonus material, author interviews, and goodies galore. To join in the fun and enter the contest, just visit <a href="https://leahmariebrown4.wixsite.com/12days" target="_blank"><b>12 Days of Books!</b></a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>**Don't forget to <a href="https://leahmariebrown4.wixsite.com/12days" target="_blank">visit</a> each day to enter the daily contest and score bonus material.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">My second gift is the gift of books! I have compiled a list of over a dozen new Christmas themed romance novels. Read the back cover blurbs and then click on the cover to order the book.</span><br />
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<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Winter-Wishes-Fern-Michaels/dp/1420135724/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><b><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="308" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ICiHIPNbn9o/Wd91IZ3aWwI/AAAAAAAAEug/ECBZExNjEoIvaXfOeflcXIQ22WoAxIR5ACLcBGAs/s320/51TYDnDAN7L.jpg" width="197" /></b></a></div>
<i style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><b style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">This winter, let four tales of mistletoe magic and the spirit of the season cast a special glow as some of your favorite authors introduce stories of hope, happiness, and holiday hearts. </span></b></i><br />
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><b style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">FINDING COLIN</b><br style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><b style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Leah Marie Brown </b><br style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">When Grace is suspended from work over the Christmas holidays, she does the only sensible thing—she travels to Ireland to find her favorite actor! But while the Colin she finds may not be a star, he’s ready to show her that gifts come in all shapes and sizes—and love is the miracle that truly counts.</span></span></span><br />
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<b style="background-color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><span style="color: white;">CHRISTMAS KISSES</span></b><br />
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><b style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Fern Michaels</b><br style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Starting over in a new town with a new job, Meredith thinks buying Noah’s grandmother’s house will be a simple business deal. But neighborly Noah is determined to make Meredith feel at home—and as the holiday season works its magic, he’s suddenly hoping that she’ll find a place for him in her heart. </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><br style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"> </span><b style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">BLUE MOON HARBOR CHRISTMAS</b><br style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><b style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Susan Fox</b><br style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Jillian and Michael have nothing in common—except the child two reckless college students created eight years ago. When Michael unexpectedly asks to meet his son, they have the twelve days of Chris</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">tmas to get to know the adults they’ve become—adults who just might be ready to fall in love for real. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><b style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Jules Bennett</b><br style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">A blind date turns out to be anything but when Ruby finds Knox on her doorstep. A few years ago, she nursed his dying wife. Can two lonely people defeat the shadow of the past and let the spirit of Christmas offer them the most special gift of all?</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">"I Will" by Lisa Kleypas</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">To be reinstated into his father’s will, Andrew, Lord Drake, must court a respectable woman-his friend’s spinster sister, Miss Caroline Hargreaves. After he blackmails Caroline into helping him, the charade begins-but is it really a charade once love takes hold of their hearts…?</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">"Deck the Halls With Love" by Lorraine Heath</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">Alistair Wakefield, the Marquess of Chetwyn, devastated Lady Meredith Hargreaves when he proposed to another. But when he becomes free to pursue her, it’s too late for she’s on her way to the altar….. As Christmas approaches, Chetwyn vows to lure Lady Meredith back into his arms.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">"No Groom at the Inn" by Megan Frampton</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">James Archer detests his mother’s matchmaking ways. When ordered to attend a Christmastime house party filled with simpering maidens, he produces a fiancée-Lady Sophronia Bettesford. James and Sophronia pretend to be in love for one month. But their pact soon turns into love.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">"The Duke’s Christmas Wish" by Vivienne Lorret</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">To the Duke of Vale, science solves everything-even marriage. When the impulsive Ivy Sutherland makes him question all of his data, he realizes that he’s overlooked a vital component in his search for the perfect match: love.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Cosy-Candlelit-Christmas-wonderfully-Unforgettable-ebook/dp/B074DL1DMW/ref=sr_1_fkmr0_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1507817238&sr=1-2-fkmr0&keywords=lilly+tennant+christmas" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="326" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tuIMCFrqfXw/Wd91Ip--xjI/AAAAAAAAEuo/2OQ4W0y-TCcnSpm3SSCQb1rLsxOu5jVeQCLcBGAs/s320/51aWQnuVIWL.jpg" width="208" /></span></span></a></div>
<b style="background-color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><span style="color: white;">All singleton Isla wants for Christmas is to be left in peace, but a surprise trip to the Alps means there’s a chance for romance in every snowflake that falls…</span></b><br />
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><br style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">It’s the week before Christmas and </span><b style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Isla McCoy</b><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"> has just received an unexpected gift: a letter announcing she is due a life-changing inheritance, but only if she’s willing to make amends with the father who abandoned her. </span><br style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><br style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">She has absolutely no intention of forgiving him, but who could resist an all-expenses-paid trip to the French resort of St Martin-de-Belleville? </span><br style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><br style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">There she meets smooth-talking </span><b style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Justin</b><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"> and nerdy glaciologist </span><b style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Sebastian</b><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">; two very different men, with two very different agendas. Torn between her head and her heart, Isla finds herself utterly lost in a winter wonderland of her own feelings. </span></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Country-Christmas-Carsons-Mustang-Creek/dp/0373789319/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1507817307&sr=1-1&keywords=a+snow+country+christmas" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="362" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-D9oi5zJQRj0/Wd91IztqijI/AAAAAAAAEuw/iSw23xs1qOAr38v5zbYZwqFQH9RARGkXgCLcBGAs/s320/51cH8fzlvNL.jpg" width="231" /></span></span></a></div>
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><b style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">It's a Christmas affair to remember as a Hollywood mogul discovers his inner cowboy—and the woman of his dreams—amid the rugged beauty of Wyoming. </b><br style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><br style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Raine McCall would take snow-covered mountains over a star-studded premiere any day. But when hotshot movie executive Mick Branson arranges dinner on Christmas Eve to discuss a work opportunity, she's intrigued—by the offer </span><em style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">and</em><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"> the man. She's a no-makeup, no-frills single mom, who's happy with her quiet life. Sharing chili cheeseburgers and sizzling kisses with Mick is sure heating up her holiday, but country girl and power player don't mix… </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">It's not just work that's brought Mick back to Mustang Creek. Since he first visited to oversee a documentary, free-spirited graphic designer Raine has been in his head. Her approach to life is as unconventional as her quirky holiday ornaments. Their attraction is undeniable—and so are their differences. Putting down roots in the Wild West wasn't in the script. But there are some Christmas gifts you can't walk away from, even when they turn your whole world upside down…</span> </span></span><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
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<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Very-Merry-Princess-Susan-Mallery-ebook/dp/B075JFLCZ4/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1507817376&sr=1-1&keywords=a+very+merry+princess" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="316" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0ZrVwqBHz7g/Wd91I-i9JuI/AAAAAAAAEu0/7G71Ute8xrUez7gmztu-kR_fD1XBVS1SQCLcBGAs/s320/51jvHO8gZWL.jpg" width="202" /></span></span></a><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><span id="goog_864050662"></span><a href="https://www.blogger.com/"></a><span id="goog_864050663"></span></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><strong style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><em>Celebrate the season with this warmhearted charmer from #1 </em></strong><strong style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">New York Times</strong><strong style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><em> bestselling author Susan Mallery</em></strong><br style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><br style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">When Princess Bethany’s father, the king, sells one of his best stallions, she insists the animal get the royal treatment. Disguised as Beth Archer, a mere stable hand, she takes him to Happily Inc, California, a quaint wedding destination that’s especially sparkly over the holidays.</span></span></span><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Rich women have no place on Cade Saunders’s ranch. He wants a down-to-earth girl-next-door type—like Beth Archer. After a few cocoa-flavored kisses by the Christmas tree, Bethany begins to fall for her irresistibly handsome host. But will Cade still want her when he discovers she’s more familiar with a crown than a cowboy hat?</span> </span></span><br />
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<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Vicarage-Christmas-Holley-Sisters-Thornthwaite-ebook/dp/B074199G9Z/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1507817439&sr=1-1&keywords=a+vicarage+christmas" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="333" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zgJ7CQdHTS4/Wd91ISlBR7I/AAAAAAAAEuc/Izh7bYNCRrABVPIkn9sq96OVzF8-U6UFgCLcBGAs/s320/51LdbSip%252B1L.jpg" width="213" /></span></span></a></div>
<span style="background-color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><span style="color: white;">Anna Holley, the third of four sisters, has always felt a little bit forgotten. A family tragedy when she was a child had her retreating deep into shyness, and social anxiety kept her on the fringes of the cozy chaos of the busy vicarage.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><br style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">After several years away from home, Anna returns for Christmas... and an important announcement from her father. As much as she once loved the village, coming back is hard and puts Anna's social capabilities to the test. </span><br style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><br style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Avoiding her sisters’ bossy questions, she heads out to the local pub one night, and meets a handsome stranger nursing a pint. Somehow, unburdened by expectations, Simon seems like the perfect person to spill all her secrets to—including a hopeless, long-held crush on her sister’s boyfriend. Confident she’ll never see him again, Anna returns home… only to discover the next day that Simon is actually her father’s new curate!</span></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Christmas-Mistletoe-Cove-heartwarming-romance/dp/178681286X/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1507817584&sr=1-1&keywords=christmas+at+mistletoe+cove" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="323" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_M7sNv3rtTw/Wd91JF3aUPI/AAAAAAAAEu4/q-E67ENMo0MUvffn7f2hBGLpvzwoVU9pQCLcBGAs/s320/51pTYPpRIkL.jpg" width="206" /></span></span></a></div>
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<b style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">Christmas has arrived at Hope Island, promising snowflakes, surprises and plenty of seasonal joy. So snuggle up and fall in love at Mistletoe Cove …</span></b></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">Growing up on Hope Island, <b>Eden Lancaster</b> always believed that if you wished hard enough for something, dreams really could come true. But Eden’s greatest wish is also her biggest secret: she has been completely in love with her childhood friend, the charming and attractive <b>Dougie Harrison</b>, for as long as she can remember. And he has no idea.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">When Dougie leaves his successful life in New York to return home to Hope Island for good, Eden can’t escape her feelings. Her heart is full of hope that her romantic dreams are finally, at long last, going to come true…</span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">This Christmas could change everything. But can a lifelong friendship really turn into the perfect romance? And will Eden get the happily ever after she’s always wished for?</span> </span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white; font-size: small;">All she wants for Christmas…</span></span></h2>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">When talented artist Nee Sutherland returns to Butterfly Cove for her sister’s wedding, it’s only a matter of time before she has to face her <em>own</em> bridegroom – Luke Spenser – the man she impulsively married, then left in the middle of the night.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">Nee hasn’t picked up her paintbrushes in months, a part of her is broken. She knows Luke might never forgive her, leaving him was the biggest mistake of her life – but could coming home for Christmas be the best decision she’s ever made?</span></span></div>
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<em style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">Maybe all she needs is a little Christmas miracle…</span></em></div>
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<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Christmas-Room-Catherine-Anderson/dp/0399586318/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1507815671&sr=8-1&keywords=catherine+anderson+christmas+room" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="342" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-r2LDMYN5Nig/Wd91InitMHI/AAAAAAAAEus/QjyXJiIytUAFIuRu95WiK14MiHdXTEZXQCLcBGAs/s320/51XI67s0JeL.jpg" width="218" /></a><span id="goog_864050599"></span><a href="https://www.blogger.com/"></a><span id="goog_864050600"></span></div>
<span style="background-color: black; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;">Widow Maddie McLendon has uprooted her life to move to Rustlers Gulch with her son and grandson. But as a brutal Montana winter looms on the horizon, contractors have yet to break ground on their new house, leaving them to live in a makeshift camp of trailers, tents, and sheds....</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br />Since his wife died six years ago, millionaire rancher Sam Conacher has been content to wallow in his grief alone while keeping a tight rein on his twenty-six-year-old daughter. But now the girl has gone and fallen in love with his foolish new neighbor’s no-good son.... <span style="text-align: center;">Maddie and Sam will never see eye to eye on anything, until a near-tragedy gives them a true glimpse into each other’s souls. And as the first snowflakes begin to fall, they’ll discover that an open heart is the biggest gift of all...</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Ill-Home-Christmas-Bells-Christmas/dp/0778330370/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1507817950&sr=1-1&keywords=ill+be+home+for+christmas" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="316" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kuaVqbD1JR0/Wd91IErGj_I/AAAAAAAAEuM/UyjJC5ordusHrVm3BdtseMW-b9ENLM4VgCLcBGAs/s320/513ivc%252B-cBL.jpg" width="202" /></a><span style="color: black;"> </span><span style="background-color: black; color: white;"><em style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><b>Silver Bells</b></em><b style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"> by Debbie Macomber</b><b style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"> </b></span></div>
<span style="background-color: black; color: white;"><br style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">A single dad's rambunctious teenage daughter hatches a plot to find her father a wife, and she has just the woman in mind. He may claim he's not interested in remarriage, but perhaps the magic of the holiday season will help him change his mind. </span><br style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><br style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><em style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><b>On a Snowy Christmas</b></em><b style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"> by Brenda Novak</b><b style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"> </b><br style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><br style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">When their private plane crashes in the Sierra Nevada Mountains shortly before Christmas, two political enemies discover that survival means more than just staying alive. In their case, it also means falling in love… </span><br style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><br style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><em style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><b>The Perfect Holiday</b></em><b style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"> by Sherryl Woods</b><b style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"> </b><br style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><br style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">What's a holiday without a handsome husband? To a matchmaking aunt, it isn't very festive at all! So she sends the perfect man to her single niece. But will he become the perfect groom-to-be by Christmastime?</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">MORE GREAT CHRISTMAS ROMANCE NOVELS!</span></div>
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<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Mistletoe-Kisses-Christa-Maurice-ebook/dp/B074PD3GK6/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1507818176&sr=1-1&keywords=mistletoe+kisses" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="462" data-original-width="318" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uUNpIMtX86U/Wd91JBuPjdI/AAAAAAAAEu8/7Xe6MCgWd_AYx6IOGTJmIHGKk-duurwmACLcBGAs/s320/a76067c8ef576433074dd4daa869e111.jpg" width="220" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Christmas-Dancing-Duck-Daisy-James-ebook/dp/B0749F4CV9/ref=sr_1_5?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1507818203&sr=1-5&keywords=daisy+james" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="284" data-original-width="177" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lgjcvJ4ATbQ/Wd91JLigXRI/AAAAAAAAEvA/bhKP42pHQfIMMybZ7scWASH_otXVdbhbwCLcBGAs/s1600/x1.jpg" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Twelve-Days-Christmas-Novel/dp/0553391755/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1507818262&sr=1-1&keywords=debbie+macomber+12+days" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="278" data-original-width="181" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-r24nDo1166g/Wd91JAEX_5I/AAAAAAAAEvE/oMVUBI7EpQ0xEZGaXSRCgSzKd66-8dwYQCLcBGAs/s1600/x2.jpg" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Charlee-Chocolate-Shop-Tale-Christmases-ebook/dp/B0763NR1GW/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1507818306&sr=1-1&keywords=jessica+redland" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="782" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EFOHb7Byyq4/Wd91JevBDNI/AAAAAAAAEvI/8bCylZPx6aMSlzstCqBIjA3rDsQK4ykeACLcBGAs/s320/x3.jpg" width="208" /></a><span id="goog_864050760"></span><a href="https://www.blogger.com/"></a><span id="goog_864050761"></span></div>
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<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Christmas-Tree-Cottage-Country-Book-ebook/dp/B06Y5SGN6V/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1507818524&sr=1-1&keywords=christmas+at+bay+tree+cottage" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="293" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VcqLwbqrZc4/Wd91JoPt5WI/AAAAAAAAEvU/RZIo-pc9nJc7j5fgwSisuE-c9lxBPWpeACLcBGAs/s320/x6.jpg" width="208" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Very-Merry-Manhattan-Christmas-feel-good-ebook/dp/B01LD9RQWG/ref=sr_1_sc_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1507818609&sr=1-1-spell&keywords=darcy+bokeyn" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="259" data-original-width="194" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oL2CR0LeXnY/Wd91JpbmdGI/AAAAAAAAEvY/0J7B-hRDgaAohzHCM-AsMpXVctx15209ACLcBGAs/s1600/x8.jpg" /></a></div>
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Leah Marie Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05432159961271108072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5643689677312985511.post-54663724695391800692017-07-12T12:46:00.006-07:002017-07-12T12:48:18.967-07:00Creepy Château de Chaumont & Catherine's Shady Squad<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: right;">
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tYfFoBEQvpU/WWZqQn6Bs-I/AAAAAAAAErY/bZUdoTFrEXAwSgUGX1sc_WqolRTnI8hqACLcBGAs/s1600/chaumont%2Bwatermark.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tYfFoBEQvpU/WWZqQn6Bs-I/AAAAAAAAErY/bZUdoTFrEXAwSgUGX1sc_WqolRTnI8hqACLcBGAs/s400/chaumont%2Bwatermark.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The first time I visited </span><a href="http://www.domaine-chaumont.fr/" style="font-family: verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;" target="_blank"><b>Chateau de Chaumont</b></a><span style="font-family: verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> was in the winter of 2003 - a brief visit that lingered in my imagination for years after. Since the castle was closed to tourists, I wandered the grounds alone in hopes I might encounter the spirits of inhabitants past. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">This might seem an unusual pastime unless you pause to consider the castle's rather unusual history. </span></div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Wia_dyaWQcw/WWZ6Mx_1SbI/AAAAAAAAEsI/2X3zDczDYYYbQGLSqKeIhyzeEkk2h7erACLcBGAs/s1600/Catherine_de_Medicis.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="377" data-original-width="304" height="200" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Wia_dyaWQcw/WWZ6Mx_1SbI/AAAAAAAAEsI/2X3zDczDYYYbQGLSqKeIhyzeEkk2h7erACLcBGAs/s200/Catherine_de_Medicis.jpg" width="161" /></a><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Chaumont was once the home of Catherine de Medici, queen to Henri II of France. Catherine practiced what some called "the darker arts" at Chaumont, inviting astronomers, numerologists, and a host of shady characters. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The astrologer </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Nostradamus was one of the member's of Catherine's shady squad. He </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">visited her at Chaumont on several occasions. Legend has it Catherine attended ritualistic animal sacrifices in the castle's front hall <i>(this told to me by a groundskeeper I encountered)</i>. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">On that first visit, when the wind eerily whispered through the ancient pine trees, it wasn't difficult to imagine the queen and her astronomer strolling through the gardens, their heads together as they tried to decipher the meaning of his convoluted dreams. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I didn't see a ghost that day - the queen politely declined to materialize - but then, I don't practice her dark arts. Nevertheless, a</span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> chill trickled down my spine when a trick of light created a shadow that moved between the trunks. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Last month, I had the pleasure of visiting Chaumont again. This time, the castle was open for visitors and I found it as strange and haunting a place as I did all those years ago. I hoped to learn more secrets about the castle's history - titillating tales about seances and sacrifices, visions and predictions. I wanted to see the front hall and learn the details about the sacrifices purportedly held there. I wanted to know if Nostradamus warned Catherine she would become a widow before she turned forty. I wanted the opportunity to buddy-up to one of the guides, to get them to share stories about sightings and things that go bump in the night.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Much to my disappointment, the spirits failed to materialize and the guides offered no spooky stories. I wandered through the rooms, sat quiet in the empty stairway, listening for echoes. Though it was a pleasant visit, I learned nothing of the darker side of Chaumont's history. </span></div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AQXhY8hymwU/WWZ6XQzcXjI/AAAAAAAAEsM/CoJH0O9v19wftlIF1qKsA84lYnEl7R5bQCLcBGAs/s1600/Henry_II_of_France..jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="630" data-original-width="462" height="200" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AQXhY8hymwU/WWZ6XQzcXjI/AAAAAAAAEsM/CoJH0O9v19wftlIF1qKsA84lYnEl7R5bQCLcBGAs/s200/Henry_II_of_France..jpg" width="146" /></a><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">As I walked back to my car, I thought about Catherine's final days at Chaumont. </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">On a bright summer day in 1559, Henri II was jousting at Place des Vosges, a lovely square in Paris, when his lance shattered into a million pieces. One of the shards penetrated his eye. Henri II lingered for several long, agonizing days before taking his last breath.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Catherine would don widows weeds and mourn her prince for the rest of her life. Grief didn't stop her from trading up, though...</span></div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jpRTN9kUfKI/WWZ6c_pwZsI/AAAAAAAAEsQ/eMBgRTvjG_MsFusMFNZsM19kL-1Eo4JOQCLcBGAs/s1600/dianedepoitiers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="614" data-original-width="556" height="200" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jpRTN9kUfKI/WWZ6c_pwZsI/AAAAAAAAEsQ/eMBgRTvjG_MsFusMFNZsM19kL-1Eo4JOQCLcBGAs/s200/dianedepoitiers.jpg" width="180" /></a><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>A slight, though important, digression: </b> Henri II had a mistress named Diane de Poitiers. Diane was pretty much Catherine's polar opposite - stunningly beautiful, gay, stylish. Henri loved Diane so much he gave her the most beautiful, fairy-tale castle in all of France: Chenonceau. Naturally, this vexed old Catherine, who burned with jealousy.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Henri was barely cold in his marble tomb when Catherine snatched Chenonceau's keys from Diane's hot little hands. In exchange, she gave Diane the deed to Chaumont, which had a leaky roof and walls stained with sacrificial blood. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I will be posting an article about my visit to Chenonceau so be sure to check back or subscribe to this blog.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i>All photographs on this blog were taken by Leah Marie Brown and are protected by copyright. Please ask permission before reproducing. Merci.</i></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b>Inner courtyard.</b></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b>Well located inside <br />the courtyard.</b></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b>View of the Loire.</b></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b>Strange and slightly creepy art inside <br />the chapel at Chaumont.</b></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b>Another shot of the chapel.</b></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VasBpzN0I-c/WWZqP1dX9GI/AAAAAAAAErM/KYRCrKyiJeE5FCN5BRogp5EKs8RXHBDXACLcBGAs/s1600/Chapel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VasBpzN0I-c/WWZqP1dX9GI/AAAAAAAAErM/KYRCrKyiJeE5FCN5BRogp5EKs8RXHBDXACLcBGAs/s320/Chapel.jpg" width="320" /></b></span></a></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wd03LSTKooQ/WWZqRAHzHMI/AAAAAAAAErg/EjfHIvBfk5Afen9vqQ0jjC_SQYbLP9JFQCLcBGAs/s1600/chaumont2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wd03LSTKooQ/WWZqRAHzHMI/AAAAAAAAErg/EjfHIvBfk5Afen9vqQ0jjC_SQYbLP9JFQCLcBGAs/s320/chaumont2.jpg" width="213" /></b></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b>The stairs are worn and uneven<br />from years of use. If you sit quietly,<br />you can almost hear the rustle<br />of stiff gowns, the tap-tap of slippers<br />moving over the stones.</b></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b>Looking up from the stairway.</b></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b>The royal chamber with a portrait of <br />Catherine de Medici hanging on the wall,<br />glaring down at all who pass.</b></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-usk_PIIOzU4/WWZqSCH_mkI/AAAAAAAAErs/5rgJoVbFGVcI2TavKom_HR_syetyKCEcQCLcBGAs/s1600/state%2Broom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-usk_PIIOzU4/WWZqSCH_mkI/AAAAAAAAErs/5rgJoVbFGVcI2TavKom_HR_syetyKCEcQCLcBGAs/s320/state%2Broom.jpg" width="320" /></b></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b>The Royal Reception Hall - Catherine would <br />have received dignitaries here.</b></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4b6DzZzmnrI/WWZqSzgpy6I/AAAAAAAAEr0/zAF7ZTBJNxYxVv2OSrix3SaYArHiNdXggCLcBGAs/s1600/tapestry.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4b6DzZzmnrI/WWZqSzgpy6I/AAAAAAAAEr0/zAF7ZTBJNxYxVv2OSrix3SaYArHiNdXggCLcBGAs/s320/tapestry.jpg" width="213" /></b></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b>Beautiful tapestry and painted<br />ceiling.</b></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IICUtmuHBGM/WWZqS2egANI/AAAAAAAAEr4/BJSodMa-LFEx7mdF_F9-N1pjW-7M59FiQCLcBGAs/s1600/window2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="918" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IICUtmuHBGM/WWZqS2egANI/AAAAAAAAEr4/BJSodMa-LFEx7mdF_F9-N1pjW-7M59FiQCLcBGAs/s320/window2.jpg" width="183" /></b></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b>Through a glass darkly <br />- stained glass window<br />looking out at the courtyard<br />at Chaumont.</b></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3Tqgv6HH_HY/WWZqS4MBQhI/AAAAAAAAErw/wSueAl7H2fEZ3dUl7OofKvrPixDq5bqdwCLcBGAs/s1600/window.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3Tqgv6HH_HY/WWZqS4MBQhI/AAAAAAAAErw/wSueAl7H2fEZ3dUl7OofKvrPixDq5bqdwCLcBGAs/s320/window.jpg" width="213" /></b></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b>Close up of window.</b></span></td></tr>
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<br />Leah Marie Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05432159961271108072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5643689677312985511.post-12015954887850919842017-07-12T10:12:00.001-07:002017-07-12T10:12:52.784-07:00A Travel Tradition<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Sixteen years ago I visited </span><a href="http://www.mellerstain.com/" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;" target="_blank">Mellerstain House</a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">, an 18th Century English manor home located in the borders between England and Scotland.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I was so taken with the magnificent estate that I flung my arms out and boldly declared, "It's all mine!" </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="http://cindy-miles.com/" target="_blank">Cindy</a>, my super fun travel pal, snapped a photo of me sitting on the hood of our rented Jaguar with my arms outstretched and the rambling manor home as my backdrop. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-E12MY4IxuHs/WWZLXaZYUZI/AAAAAAAAEo8/4gZMEih6jnsaEXAyE6qmN_qPqPKhj3jqgCLcBGAs/s1600/1923650_10157046806_7732_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="298" data-original-width="448" height="212" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-E12MY4IxuHs/WWZLXaZYUZI/AAAAAAAAEo8/4gZMEih6jnsaEXAyE6qmN_qPqPKhj3jqgCLcBGAs/s320/1923650_10157046806_7732_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b>Mellerstain House, England</b></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Little did I know striking the <b>It's All Mine</b> pose would become one of my travel traditions. Since then, I have posed outside mansions, manor homes, castles, and palaces around the world. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The photos document nearly twenty years of travel to three continents and eighteen countries (and my surprisingly unwavering taste for black garments). </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Flipping through the collection today, I realized, though not for the first time, how truly blessed I am to have traveled to so many exotic places (I also </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">realized I need to add some color to my travel wardrobe).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">For me, these photos have become a whimsical way to document my joy for exploring this great big beautiful world.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Do you have any travel traditions? I would love to hear about them. If not, it's not too late to start. Grab your passport and strike a pose. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-58lujxcp98A/WWZN7rmCcOI/AAAAAAAAEpU/H0ybd3oBvw4dK99jup24bNkL8CaWwCGtACLcBGAs/s1600/All%2BMine%2BChambord%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-58lujxcp98A/WWZN7rmCcOI/AAAAAAAAEpU/H0ybd3oBvw4dK99jup24bNkL8CaWwCGtACLcBGAs/s320/All%2BMine%2BChambord%2B2.jpg" width="320" /></b></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b>Chateau Chambord, France<br /></b></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7m4mP9nL0nQ/WWZNu4dJJPI/AAAAAAAAEpQ/Bnvjz07XvEkgcpKWgo6Kors4gt58tCi8wCLcBGAs/s1600/blenheim.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7m4mP9nL0nQ/WWZNu4dJJPI/AAAAAAAAEpQ/Bnvjz07XvEkgcpKWgo6Kors4gt58tCi8wCLcBGAs/s320/blenheim.jpg" width="320" /></b></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b>Blenheim Palace, England</b></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-No0maOCclvQ/WWZN7u3DrrI/AAAAAAAAEpY/VR9dA8BoRdgFnK680WkzfbDQVj39iTLqgCLcBGAs/s1600/All%2BMine%2BChaumont%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-No0maOCclvQ/WWZN7u3DrrI/AAAAAAAAEpY/VR9dA8BoRdgFnK680WkzfbDQVj39iTLqgCLcBGAs/s320/All%2BMine%2BChaumont%2B2.jpg" width="320" /></b></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b>Chateau Chaumont, France<br /></b></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rC_d-XiuoDI/WWZR9e6M2ZI/AAAAAAAAEqc/41tmyHL3Qx87tnQxLjjo24S6ILCWPP7OACLcBGAs/s1600/its%2Ball%2Bmine%2Bhouse%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1600" height="216" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rC_d-XiuoDI/WWZR9e6M2ZI/AAAAAAAAEqc/41tmyHL3Qx87tnQxLjjo24S6ILCWPP7OACLcBGAs/s320/its%2Ball%2Bmine%2Bhouse%2B2.jpg" width="320" /></b></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b>Muckross House, Ireland<br /></b></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fESgaKk_AUw/WWZNu-mg3NI/AAAAAAAAEpI/YfzeIzNw1lUKhsVJdhkEQt3SPFP_Qy33wCLcBGAs/s1600/vaux.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><img border="0" data-original-height="712" data-original-width="1072" height="212" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fESgaKk_AUw/WWZNu-mg3NI/AAAAAAAAEpI/YfzeIzNw1lUKhsVJdhkEQt3SPFP_Qy33wCLcBGAs/s320/vaux.jpg" width="320" /></b></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b>Vaux le Vicomte, France</b></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2XSXexf9YtY/WWZN7kUsY-I/AAAAAAAAEpc/pUd2ZNEsKn4P5nnfgKIr1RzieyN2Y_s-ACLcBGAs/s1600/All%2BMine%2BChenonceau.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2XSXexf9YtY/WWZN7kUsY-I/AAAAAAAAEpc/pUd2ZNEsKn4P5nnfgKIr1RzieyN2Y_s-ACLcBGAs/s320/All%2BMine%2BChenonceau.jpg" width="320" /></b></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b>Chateau Chenonceau, France<br /></b></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9yU5-z0ZFPk/WWZQ37XbzCI/AAAAAAAAEp0/XTTSif6e9y0994tetXnUzH6PS6a-Js4XQCEwYBhgL/s1600/Balleroy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><img border="0" data-original-height="712" data-original-width="1072" height="212" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9yU5-z0ZFPk/WWZQ37XbzCI/AAAAAAAAEp0/XTTSif6e9y0994tetXnUzH6PS6a-Js4XQCEwYBhgL/s320/Balleroy.jpg" width="320" /></b></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b>Balleroy, France</b></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LndPnzTk4BU/WWZRqUDTs1I/AAAAAAAAEp8/1m-vDYE3vZ475crQzAqoAR0RN-5GEhqugCEwYBhgL/s1600/All%2BMine%2Boriginal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LndPnzTk4BU/WWZRqUDTs1I/AAAAAAAAEp8/1m-vDYE3vZ475crQzAqoAR0RN-5GEhqugCEwYBhgL/s320/All%2BMine%2Boriginal.jpg" width="320" /></b></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b>Scone Palace, Scotland</b></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1V9t6g0jSYQ/WWZRrf5y79I/AAAAAAAAEqQ/kZCDCrMEvfgXO2QfsFBOCfQkzZ54TjxcQCEwYBhgL/s1600/leah.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><img border="0" data-original-height="1053" data-original-width="1600" height="210" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1V9t6g0jSYQ/WWZRrf5y79I/AAAAAAAAEqQ/kZCDCrMEvfgXO2QfsFBOCfQkzZ54TjxcQCEwYBhgL/s320/leah.JPG" width="320" /></b></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b>Kasteel ten Berghe, Belgium</b></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LgM-6n0xHy8/WWZRqbCwRwI/AAAAAAAAEqA/c4M7SNqPTvMI1xxziNY6HkBOcqTA1pDVACEwYBhgL/s1600/Glamis%2BAll%2BMine.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1280" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LgM-6n0xHy8/WWZRqbCwRwI/AAAAAAAAEqA/c4M7SNqPTvMI1xxziNY6HkBOcqTA1pDVACEwYBhgL/s320/Glamis%2BAll%2BMine.jpg" width="256" /></b></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b>Glamis Castle, Scotland</b></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZMjTKNi23uk/WWZRqz6WVFI/AAAAAAAAEqM/8vd60xg3t5INgyH6li4tuq1SfAN4vm-yACEwYBhgL/s1600/allmineHamptonCourt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="240" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZMjTKNi23uk/WWZRqz6WVFI/AAAAAAAAEqM/8vd60xg3t5INgyH6li4tuq1SfAN4vm-yACEwYBhgL/s320/allmineHamptonCourt.jpg" width="320" /></b></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b>Hampton Court Palace, England</b></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-efD0ynHWp_U/WWZRr173KdI/AAAAAAAAEqY/eUfF4TWODHYFiQi0ZaRsgwoqEe8YtpKIgCEwYBhgL/s1600/all%2Bmine.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><img border="0" data-original-height="1352" data-original-width="1600" height="270" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-efD0ynHWp_U/WWZRr173KdI/AAAAAAAAEqY/eUfF4TWODHYFiQi0ZaRsgwoqEe8YtpKIgCEwYBhgL/s320/all%2Bmine.jpg" width="320" /></b></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b>Petite Trianon, France</b></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VJ3th-5A83s/WWZRr3wmNJI/AAAAAAAAEqU/07Qt4q6O4yM3SFVwf9IuMsi3F5qYuLdFwCEwYBhgL/s1600/hallof%2Bmirrors%2Bleah%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1063" data-original-width="1600" height="212" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VJ3th-5A83s/WWZRr3wmNJI/AAAAAAAAEqU/07Qt4q6O4yM3SFVwf9IuMsi3F5qYuLdFwCEwYBhgL/s320/hallof%2Bmirrors%2Bleah%2B2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b>Hall of Mirrors, Versailles, France</b></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uyg64os631Y/WWZRqneQf3I/AAAAAAAAEqg/cAu4xNnnWzwXO7tzL2XlyTQqMK1wVmehgCEwYBhgL/s1600/all%2Bmine%2Bludwig.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1072" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uyg64os631Y/WWZRqneQf3I/AAAAAAAAEqg/cAu4xNnnWzwXO7tzL2XlyTQqMK1wVmehgCEwYBhgL/s320/all%2Bmine%2Bludwig.jpg" width="214" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: sans-serif; text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: small;">Neuschwanstein Castle, Germany</span></b></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xasl23wXVoM/WWZRqpwI82I/AAAAAAAAEqg/rfbI5jjqLnUAQggPbr5vE5HzTqhjDZW1wCEwYBhgL/s1600/all%2Bmien2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1077" data-original-width="1600" height="215" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xasl23wXVoM/WWZRqpwI82I/AAAAAAAAEqg/rfbI5jjqLnUAQggPbr5vE5HzTqhjDZW1wCEwYBhgL/s320/all%2Bmien2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b>Cardinal de Rohan Palace, Strasbourg</b></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-q5uY2V3WNck/WWZXKL2GOfI/AAAAAAAAEqw/L1v0M77aJS4Jsdgk33Ghe_Af5nZSKAr0gCEwYBhgL/s1600/Carcassone%2Bis%2Bmine.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1063" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-q5uY2V3WNck/WWZXKL2GOfI/AAAAAAAAEqw/L1v0M77aJS4Jsdgk33Ghe_Af5nZSKAr0gCEwYBhgL/s320/Carcassone%2Bis%2Bmine.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b>Carcassone, France</b></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>Leah Marie Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05432159961271108072noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5643689677312985511.post-53531676255390992532017-05-15T09:05:00.002-07:002017-05-15T09:05:44.873-07:00<div class="" data-block="true" data-editor="96plm" data-offset-key="ojgh-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; white-space: pre-wrap;">
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<span data-offset-key="ojgh-0-0"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">My fabulous publisher, Kensington Publishing, is hosting a giveaway to celebrate the launch of my latest It Girls novel, Owning It. </span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="ojgh-0-0"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Step into the stylish world of the It Girls by entering the summer giveaway and you could win a super cute Kate Spade Ice Cream Umbrella & PRINT copies of the complete It Girls series.</span></span></div>
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Leah Marie Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05432159961271108072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5643689677312985511.post-87668144165765840022017-02-10T08:46:00.000-08:002017-02-10T10:07:25.362-08:00Hemingway's Trunk<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Io5kaUGuB9s/WJtKg1mHnAI/AAAAAAAAEj4/sxTmMH4vahAkoaVs5E7BAH_KY_62JEmIQCLcB/s1600/4631.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Io5kaUGuB9s/WJtKg1mHnAI/AAAAAAAAEj4/sxTmMH4vahAkoaVs5E7BAH_KY_62JEmIQCLcB/s320/4631.jpg" width="217" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">One of my all-time favorite nonfiction books is Ernest
Hemingway's A Moveable Feast. (More on
why this book makes my all-time top ten list in an upcoming post)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> If you haven't read A
Moveable Feast, I highly recommend you indulge.
The audio book version is a delicious treat for your ears. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Speaking of
Hemingway, I thought this was a great little story about him. (Question for YOU
after the story)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">"In 1956, Ernest and I were having lunch at the Ritz in
Paris with Charles Ritz, the hotel’s chairman, when Charley asked if Ernest was
aware that a trunk of his was in the basement storage room, left there in 1930. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Ernest did not remember storing the trunk but he did recall that in the 1920s
Louis Vuitton had made a special trunk for him. Ernest had wondered what had
become of it. Charley had the trunk brought up to his office, and after lunch
Ernest opened it. It was filled with a ragtag collection of clothes, menus,
receipts, memos, hunting and fishing paraphernalia, skiing equipment, racing
forms, correspondence and, on the bottom, something that elicited a joyful
reaction from Ernest: 'The notebooks! So that’s where they were! Enfin!' There
were two stacks of lined notebooks like the ones used by schoolchildren in
Paris when he lived there in the ’20s. Ernest had filled them with his careful
handwriting while sitting in his favorite café, nursing a café crème. The
notebooks described the places, the people, the events of his penurious
life." -- Hotchner, A. E. (2009-07-19).
"Don't Touch 'A Moveable Feast'". The New York Times. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Wouldn't it be
something to find an old suitcase filled with things you haven't seen in 30
years? What would YOU want to find in your suitcase?</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; white-space: pre-line;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>Leah Marie Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05432159961271108072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5643689677312985511.post-5721985599793929122016-12-08T05:37:00.002-08:002016-12-08T05:37:24.564-08:00Backpack Full of Goodies: Helping the Homeless<div class="MsoNormal">
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rg2NfmFhGq8/WElhtdW1M3I/AAAAAAAAEi8/gC39BeZNHtAjKZPwGVf5kLTCxtoob0UKgCLcB/s1600/15325272_10154095487015095_6370238253495588021_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rg2NfmFhGq8/WElhtdW1M3I/AAAAAAAAEi8/gC39BeZNHtAjKZPwGVf5kLTCxtoob0UKgCLcB/s400/15325272_10154095487015095_6370238253495588021_o.jpg" width="298" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">When I lived in Anchorage, I frequently made donations to a
homeless shelter, <a href="https://www.beanscafe.org/?gclid=CNOi4JDZ5NACFYESgQodT1UL7Q" target="_blank"><b>Beans Cafe</b></a>, and a youth shelter, <a href="https://www.covenanthouse.org/homeless-charity/alaska" target="_blank"><b>Covenant House</b></a>. It was
difficult to forget about the homeless in that city because Beans Cafe was located
close to where I lived. I passed the
homeless lined up outside the charity every time I ran errands. This year, they asked some of the city’s
homeless to write their holiday wishes on a piece of paper. Then, they photographed them holding their
wishes and posted those photos of social media.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Steven's request for a "backpack full of goodies"
really touches my heart.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">We don't have a lot of visible homeless people where I now
live, but just before Thanksgiving I saw a clean, well-groomed homeless man
riding a bike with a little hitch on the back.
He had posted signs all over the hitch saying he was homeless and hungry
but capable of doing odd jobs for food.
I don't have a place for him to do odd jobs, so I grabbed two warm
drinks and I went and sat with him for about 20 minutes. I was wearing a Spock tee shirt and he told
me what a fan he was of Star Trek. He
also told me about his dog - Maggie - a former bait dog he rescued. I told him I was sorry I didn't have any odd
jobs for him and I gave him enough cash for a hot meal or two...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I tell you that story not to toot my own horn - but to say
that so many homeless people are so beaten down by their circumstances they
lose their spark. They have to focus on
finding necessities like food, not the things that feed the soul. This man, holding a sign asking for a
backpack full of goodies, still has his spark.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I am so blessed.
Truly. And I am full of
spark. My Christmas hope this year is
that we all do something to help preserve the spark in a homeless person. It takes just a few minutes - a warm drink -
a few extra bucks - a thoughtful conversation - to help preserve someone's
faith in humanity.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
Leah Marie Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05432159961271108072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5643689677312985511.post-46770070764864958772016-11-28T12:15:00.000-08:002016-11-28T12:16:02.559-08:00Attitude of Gratitude<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mfN5ee3zhZo/WDyNdvHBlnI/AAAAAAAAEiQ/CrqujZ5KzucEOC63y1bM7ron7Q_9x5wLgCPcB/s1600/download%2B%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mfN5ee3zhZo/WDyNdvHBlnI/AAAAAAAAEiQ/CrqujZ5KzucEOC63y1bM7ron7Q_9x5wLgCPcB/s1600/download%2B%25281%2529.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Since I was twelve, I have had a
difficult relationship with my mother. Several years ago, I was preparing to
embark on a trip to France with my friend, Cindy. I asked my mother what I
could get for her in France -- chocolates, perfume -- she gave me a short list
and then added, "And a heart shaped stone."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">"What?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">"When you're at Mont St. Michel, see if you can't find
me a heart shaped stone."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">And I did. We were walking along the causeway, just before
the tide came in (this is before they added the slick, raised, paved causeway).
I looked down and saw a heart-shaped stone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I have made it one of my travel traditions to
look for a heart-shaped stone for my Momma...even if we aren't speaking.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Mu0hy1QG6yY/WDyNd2F4VZI/AAAAAAAAEiU/QRIYfnNSWbIlrMJfHgG6l35xnBSuRUitQCPcB/s1600/c14cce7a7b40e936620bdeb85332a11f.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="301" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Mu0hy1QG6yY/WDyNd2F4VZI/AAAAAAAAEiU/QRIYfnNSWbIlrMJfHgG6l35xnBSuRUitQCPcB/s320/c14cce7a7b40e936620bdeb85332a11f.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I have a nice little collection now. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">A dark greenish heart
stone I found near castle ruins in Scotland. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">A heart shaped stone that appears to be a piece of masonry I found near a chateau in France. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">A smooth light gray heart stone
plucked from the shores of my beloved Ireland...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I am grateful for this tradition because it helps me to stay
connected to my mom in a simple, painless way. It also reminds me that no
matter how far I travel, no matter how much I see and experience, I should
remember to look for and value the "small" treasures life offers.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
Leah Marie Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05432159961271108072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5643689677312985511.post-84114027739093990262016-08-30T14:26:00.002-07:002016-09-22T15:46:50.520-07:00Looscaunagh Lough<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3cWR6IffRs/V8X5l1_zuwI/AAAAAAAAEcg/ump7w05xmpcxyThH-1I0D6O7BPLu375aACLcB/s1600/loos.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="230" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3cWR6IffRs/V8X5l1_zuwI/AAAAAAAAEcg/ump7w05xmpcxyThH-1I0D6O7BPLu375aACLcB/s400/loos.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Looscaunagh Lough is a little lake on the edge of Killarney National Park in Ireland. I drove by it at least a dozen times during my stay in County Kerry. For me, it was heaven on earth. There were several abandoned cottages and I thought how simple and grand life would be if I could love in a little cottage besides Looscaunagh. I imagine it's just a boring plot of land beside a wee lake to most Irishmen, but I thought it was as close to perfect as one could hope to find. It was just one of two places that I have been in this world where I felt I belonged.</span></div>
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Leah Marie Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05432159961271108072noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5643689677312985511.post-29017682892732744762016-07-10T09:47:00.001-07:002016-07-10T10:02:38.863-07:00How To Be A Badass<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i>"If you don't distance yourself from the wrong people, you will never meet the right people." </i></span></h2>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i>~ Joel Osteen</i></span></h2>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">What a beautifully simple concept. For years I clung to the wrong people - people so toxic that I felt I needed a decontamination shower after spending time with them. Then there were the people who weren't loyal to me but to their need of me. Once their needs changed, so did their loyalty. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I held onto those people out of fear. "What if I end the friendship and spend the next fifteen years looking for a new friend? What if I die alone? Since God delivered me to this family, He might think I am unforgiving and ungrateful if I stop talking to them."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Fear kept me in painful and toxic relationships. Fear motivated me to forgive people when they were cruel, disloyal, abusive, or negligent. Fear is a powerful motivator. Healthy fear protects you from making dangerous or unwise decisions. Unhealthy fear paralyzes you and makes it difficult to move away from the familiar, even if that familiar is painful.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The same principle could be applied to the pursuit of one's dreams.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>"If you don't distance yourself from the wrong dreams, you will never achieve the right dreams."</i></span></h2>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Having ADD means I spend a lot of time distracted, engaged in pointless pursuits or in chasing shiny things that suddenly attract my attention. A few years ago, I started making Christmas ornaments as a way to distract myself from family problems. I spent months making decoupage ornaments. When boxes of ornaments covered my kitchen island, family room bar, and dining room table, I did what anyone would do: I sold them on eBay and Etsy. A sane person would have pocketed her profit and moved on. I made more ornaments. What had started as a relaxing pastime quickly turned into an all-consuming distraction. It was also a major diversion that kept me from continuing to pursue my real dream: to be a multi-published author. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">For years, I doggedly wrote historical fiction. Even though I received enough rejection letters to wallpaper the Taj Mahal, I kept writing historical romances. I had dream myopia. I put on my blinders and trotted the track - around and around and around. A few close friends said, "Why don't you try a new path? You're funny. You should try writing chick lit."</span></div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8QlLwoSqgGQ/V4J2Xv71A8I/AAAAAAAAEZo/dXIfRpN68Us3VBda2GhVJBVPy_crHkB6ACLcB/s1600/coyote-roadrunner-under-anvil.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="250" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8QlLwoSqgGQ/V4J2Xv71A8I/AAAAAAAAEZo/dXIfRpN68Us3VBda2GhVJBVPy_crHkB6ACLcB/s320/coyote-roadrunner-under-anvil.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Unhealthy fear fell upon me like one of Wile E. Coyote's anvils and made it nearly impossible for me to move. The thing about anvils? They freaking hurt. After a while, you are so exhausted from the pain you are willing to gnaw off your own leg just to get away from it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">We hear stories about courageous people. Often they are described as Herculean men and Amazonian women - soldiers who evade capture, firemen who run into burning buildings, mothers who lift vehicles to free their trapped off-spring, a teenager who survives a plane crash and then fights her way through miles of jungle just to reach help. No offense to them, but they kinda give courage a bad rap.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Their admirable acts are so freaking awesome they make our challenges seem trivial. "I mean, seriously, if a blind elderly woman with one leg and one kidney can climb Mount Everest, you should be able to end a friendship/write a book/join a new church/apply for that job."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">No challenge is trivial. They might not all be Mount Everest - maybe they're merely foothills. It's all about perspective though.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Sometimes, courage doesn't come with a bolt of lightning, but with a bone-weariness need to change, to move away from the pain.</i></span></h2>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">It takes courage to say, "I am going to stop chasing the wrong dreams/friend/man/career and remain faithful that God will show me the path toward the right dream/friend/man/career."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Be quietly, wearily courageous. You might not be able to lift your shirt and impress your friends with your wicked battle scar, but you will have one badass story to tell.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Badass By The Numbers:</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b><a href="http://elitedaily.com/life/motivation/8-badass-ways-get-life-want/" target="_blank">Eight Ways to Be a Badass and Get the Life You Want</a></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="http://jasonferruggia.com/10-renegade-rules-badass/" target="_blank"><b>Ten Renegade Rules for Being a Badass</b></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="http://chrismccombs.net/37-ways-to-be-a-badass/" target="_blank"><b><br /></b></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="http://chrismccombs.net/37-ways-to-be-a-badass/" target="_blank"><b>Thirty-Seven Ways to Be a Total Badass</b></a></span></div>
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Leah Marie Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05432159961271108072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5643689677312985511.post-7175661352848782002016-05-23T07:24:00.001-07:002016-05-23T07:24:44.014-07:00What Should You Stick In Your Beach Bag?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Working-Girls-Leah-Marie-Brown-ebook/dp/B015BCRXE2?ie=UTF8&keywords=working%20it%20leah&qid=1464011788&ref_=sr_1_1&sr=8-1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_KRqXjFmVYc/V0MKp_0id1I/AAAAAAAAEYk/JHEXZVzpgBMaiN3Macnybp-XrxBFr1GOQCLcB/s320/Summer%2BRead%2B3.jpg" width="228" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>You've packed your swimsuit, sandals, suntan lotion, and slinky sundress, but did you remember to pack the one thing that will make you laugh, feel sexy, and give you some serious girl power? </b> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">This summer's new Chick Lit releases are super fab, laugh out loud fun. So, don't forget to stick one or two (or more) of these novels in your beach bag or carry-on. (I suggest starting with <b>Working It</b> - but that's merely a suggestion).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">You know how you have that favorite summer dress - the one you bought a few years ago, but still makes you feel fantastic? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">You probably think you'll never find a better summer dress, right? But one day soon, you will be walking through the mall and...</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">WAAHHHH </span><i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">(that's the heavenly chorus sound effect that plays whenever a woman finds the perfect garment)...</i><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">...There it will be! A new summer dress that looks as fab on your body as it did on the mannequin</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">. A dress that is slinkier, sexier, and more sensational than your old one. You will still love your old dress, of course, but you will joyfully slip into the new one.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">That's what it is like with this summer's chick lit novels. Previous summer's offered great reads, but these novels are slinkier, sexier, and will make you feel marvelous. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">There's a lot to choose from: a fashionista seeking a destiny beyond Dior, three romantic rivals vying for the same man, a would-be actress in search of her first husband, sisters with secrets in a Cornish cottage...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Take your pick (but I recommend buying the whole lot </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">- after all, one can never have too many slinky, make you feel super-sexy dresses, can one?)</span><br />
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<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Working-Girls-Leah-Marie-Brown-ebook/dp/B015BCRXE2?ie=UTF8&keywords=working%20it%20leah&qid=1464011788&ref_=sr_1_1&sr=8-1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pf6aEMNBGEc/V0MKsQJdDnI/AAAAAAAAEYo/IHvuk3_MRDogeP-dT5nWXU5QSPZNzU0vACLcB/s320/Cover.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Working-Girls-Leah-Marie-Brown-ebook/dp/B015BCRXE2?ie=UTF8&keywords=working%20it%20leah&qid=1464011788&ref_=sr_1_1&sr=8-1" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Working It</span></a></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dJQanlD3vdc/V0MKx7_qpMI/AAAAAAAAEY0/Vj3CCxdCjMQcyks5C4sjM5gbv1R6hhyuwCLcB/s1600/b1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dJQanlD3vdc/V0MKx7_qpMI/AAAAAAAAEY0/Vj3CCxdCjMQcyks5C4sjM5gbv1R6hhyuwCLcB/s320/b1.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Breakfast-at-Poldarks-Samantha-Tonge/dp/0008196249?ie=UTF8&keywords=breakfast%20at%20poldark%27s&qid=1464012027&ref_=sr_1_1&sr=8-1" target="_blank">Breakfast at Poldark's</a></span></div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5T_DR2f75H8/V0MKySu-pqI/AAAAAAAAEZA/1Fb8VnTVnpIDg4zxoASckH_5KuHodVA1gCLcB/s1600/b2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5T_DR2f75H8/V0MKySu-pqI/AAAAAAAAEZA/1Fb8VnTVnpIDg4zxoASckH_5KuHodVA1gCLcB/s320/b2.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Numbers-Jen-Lancaster/dp/0451471113/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1464012070&sr=8-1&keywords=by+the+numbers+jen" target="_blank">By the Numbers</a></span></div>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vS-vwkjL66k/V0MKyTwHRYI/AAAAAAAAEY8/5wjp_Wvjng88s75qdFzqU0uJPHVAy-4QwCLcB/s1600/b3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vS-vwkjL66k/V0MKyTwHRYI/AAAAAAAAEY8/5wjp_Wvjng88s75qdFzqU0uJPHVAy-4QwCLcB/s320/b3.jpg" width="212" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Singles-Game-Lauren-Weisberger/dp/1476778213/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1464012116&sr=8-1&keywords=singles+game+lauren" target="_blank">The Singles Game</a></span></div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uMjw98uxb6c/V0MKyuADK5I/AAAAAAAAEZE/9pfrMU2H1XULa1_aui7NK7XeR5OnE-UogCLcB/s1600/b4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uMjw98uxb6c/V0MKyuADK5I/AAAAAAAAEZE/9pfrMU2H1XULa1_aui7NK7XeR5OnE-UogCLcB/s320/b4.jpg" width="210" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Summer-Oyster-Bay-Jenny-Hale/dp/1786810301/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1464012170&sr=8-2&keywords=summer+at+oyster+bay" target="_blank">Summer at Oyster Bay</a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Always-Love-Giovanna-Fletcher-ebook/dp/B01BHGETWK?ie=UTF8&keywords=always%20with%20love%20fletcher&qid=1464012200&ref_=sr_1_1&sr=8-1" target="_blank">Always with Love</a></span></div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yarh93oRegU/V0MKyk-45sI/AAAAAAAAEZI/ryL2VG8igE4i5XmnKcWWZFjVAPNWdMUKgCLcB/s1600/b6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yarh93oRegU/V0MKyk-45sI/AAAAAAAAEZI/ryL2VG8igE4i5XmnKcWWZFjVAPNWdMUKgCLcB/s320/b6.jpg" width="208" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Well-Always-Have-Paris/dp/B01CDHGZCE?ie=UTF8&keywords=sue%20watson%20we%27ll%20always%20have&qid=1464012222&ref_=sr_1_1&sr=8-1" target="_blank">We'll Always Have Paris</a></span></div>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BF_9FUtwVtA/V0MKy4oLD7I/AAAAAAAAEZQ/A1c_rHda1Zw-aBuVvUnB34GJzb_0XlTZgCLcB/s1600/b7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BF_9FUtwVtA/V0MKy4oLD7I/AAAAAAAAEZQ/A1c_rHda1Zw-aBuVvUnB34GJzb_0XlTZgCLcB/s320/b7.jpg" width="202" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Postcard-Fern-Britton-ebook/dp/B0191FQOO0?ie=UTF8&keywords=the%20postcard%20britton&qid=1464012256&ref_=sr_1_1&sr=8-1" target="_blank">The Postcard</a></span></div>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Qyhsn_D3_og/V0MKy-iK5VI/AAAAAAAAEZU/p3uunwCDr4Ar5pP0krQ5dwbn2x9ceTMOwCLcB/s1600/b8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Qyhsn_D3_og/V0MKy-iK5VI/AAAAAAAAEZU/p3uunwCDr4Ar5pP0krQ5dwbn2x9ceTMOwCLcB/s320/b8.jpg" width="210" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/First-Comes-Love-Emily-Giffin/dp/034554692X?ie=UTF8&keywords=first%20comes%20love&qid=1464012287&ref_=sr_1_1&sr=8-1" target="_blank">First Comes Love</a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Sunshine-Wildflower-Cottage-Milly-Johnson-ebook/dp/B0151VA21O?ie=UTF8&keywords=sunshine%20over%20wildflower%20milly&qid=1464012327&ref_=sr_1_1&sr=8-1" target="_blank">Sunshine over Wildflower Cottage</a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Heres-Us-Elin-Hilderbrand/dp/0316375144/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1464012387&sr=8-1&keywords=here%27s+to+us" target="_blank">Here's to Us</a></span></div>
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<a href="https://www.amazon.com/How-Find-Your-First-Husband-ebook/dp/B01BU6I9PK?ie=UTF8&keywords=how%20to%20find%20your%20first%20husband&qid=1464012460&ref_=sr_1_1&sr=8-1" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">How to Find Y<span id="goog_1961586317"></span><span id="goog_1961586318"></span>our First Husband</span></a></div>
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<br />Leah Marie Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05432159961271108072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5643689677312985511.post-28462232501086487102016-02-26T11:12:00.001-08:002016-02-26T19:00:10.212-08:00Piece by Piece<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-p-dGqnFfUC0/VtChxAFQWuI/AAAAAAAAEVo/tPrGUxYrJCU/s1600/father-and-daughter-silhouette-494x329.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-p-dGqnFfUC0/VtChxAFQWuI/AAAAAAAAEVo/tPrGUxYrJCU/s320/father-and-daughter-silhouette-494x329.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I write a lot of blog pieces and Facebook posts about my
crazy life and unbelievable, but true, adventures. I post silly questions, risqué jokes, and way
too many pop culture references (sorry/not sorry for the jabs <a href="http://static5.businessinsider.com/image/5335c8ffeab8eac26375daa3/gwyneth-paltrow-just-got-owned-by-working-moms.jpg" target="_blank"><b>Gwynnie</b></a>). <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Today, with this post, I am scratching much deeper than the
surface. If you don't like to go deep,
<a href="http://leahmariebrown.blogspot.com/2013/03/lunch-with-robert-redford.html" target="_blank">click here</a> for a fun, but more shallow, read. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Thursday night, Kelly Clarkson, American Idol's poster girl
turned anti-establishment chanteuse, paid a visit to her alma mater. An older,
heavily pregnant Kelly sang her new song, "Piece by Piece". If you haven't heard it yet, you might want
to take a listen or you won't really get what I am about to prattle on about.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/9FHYBQxURQo/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/9FHYBQxURQo?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I have never been a Kelly Clarkson fan, but this song hit me
straight in the heart. My biological
father abandoned me when I was a baby.
He abused my mother and neglected me.
I am truly a better person because my
young mother had the courage to tell him to go. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">He went. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">And he never came back.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>"I traveled 1500 miles to see you..."</i></b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">When I was twenty-three, I tracked him down. He was living in a sad, tiny apartment in
Tampa, Florida (which, incidentally, is the stripper capital of the United
States). He was married to his fourth or
fifth wife and raising two of his children (each had a different Baby
Mama). At first, he was warm and
welcoming. He planned outings to beaches
and water parks. He invited his
relatives - my relatives - over for barbecues.
He kept my mind whirling with his non-stop prattle (so that's where I
got my gift for gab), catching me up on his lost twenty-three
years. I felt as if I were in an
alter-world wherein he was the snake and I was the charmer, but he was charming
me and all I could do was sit and stare, eyes wide and catatonic.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>"And all of your words fall flat..." </i></b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The thing about snakes is: no matter how much they entrance
you with their markings, their graceful movements, their unflinching, hypnotic
gaze, if you get too close, challenge them too much, they will strike. Snakes can be slippery, venomous little
bastards.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Some people are just like snakes. They charm you, entrance you, lure you
closer, and then strike. Snakes are not
what they first seem.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I am not at liberty to discuss the finer points of my visit
with biological father, but I can tell you it ended with disastrous,
disappointing results. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>"Begged you to want me..."</i></b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Time, therapy, love - they can be remarkably powerful
anti-venom. I am okay with my father's abandonment now, but for a long time his
neglect left gaping wounds on my heart.
I tried to soothe those wounds with the love of others - friends,
family, lovers. I tried to be the most
pleasing, most loving, most entertaining person to whomever I was with so they
would love me and never abandon me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">When my father packed his bags and slid away, never looking
back, he left a legacy of self-doubt and longing. I grew up wondering if my father left because
I wasn't good enough. Sometimes, the
pain of abandonment was so great I would invent stories, casting him as a
Vietnam War hero or an undercover CIA agent.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Growing up without a strong, dependable, loving father
influenced my behavior, particularly when it came to relationships with
men. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>"That a man can be kind..."</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I grew up dreaming about, and searching for, a man who would
be kind, supportive, dependable, gentle, and true. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">But an abandoned and neglected daughter searching for a good
man is a lot like being blindfolded, dropped in the middle of a vast forest, and
told that you have to find your way out.
Good men are unfamiliar terrain.
Chances are, you will make several wrong turns before you find your way. If you're lucky, you might stumble out of the
forest, but not without a lot of luck or a lot of therapy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>"And a father should be great..."</i></b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Twelve paragraphs in, I don't even know why I am writing
this blog post. Maybe I am hoping a
father on the brink of leaving will read this and consider the damage his
abandonment will cause to his trusting daughter. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Though, my cynical, jaded side - the side that is rarely
allowed out of its dark, dank, deep cave - says, "Seriously? You think your little blog post and a weepy
Kelly Clarkson song is going to positively influence a positively flawed human
being? Ego much?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Abandonment - in all of its forms: psychological, emotional,
physical, financial - stems from a profoundly flawed morality. Men and women who abandon their offspring,
particularly when they are the most vulnerable and needy, are lacking the
thick-as-cement moral fiber found in good, reliable, loving parents. The very foundation of their character has a
big-ass crack in it. A crack created by
a pathetically perverted inner-dialogue that says, "You are the most
important person in this mismatched little group. Your happiness is more important than
theirs. You deserve to be happy and
free. Walk away." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>"I made something of myself..."</i></b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Those wounds - the ones my biological father created when he
listened to his inner-dialogue, the one that told him his happiness mattered
more than mine - weren't healed by collecting fawning friends or finding a
generous lover. Those wounds were healed
when I silenced the perverted inner-dialogue in my head, the one that said,
<i>"Your father left because you weren't
pretty/smart/funny/kind/fill-in-the-blank enough."</i> Those wounds were healed not through the love
of surrogate fathers, but through self-understanding, acceptance, and love.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">A miraculous amount of healing can occur when you learn to
truly accept yourself - freckles, fat fingers, frizzy hair and all! The scars might still be there - you see them
- but they don't cause you pain or limit your mobility.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">A few months ago, my half-sister wrote to tell me our
biological father was dying. Keeping it
real? My first thought was,
<i>"So? Why are you telling me?"</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">When I told my husband, he said, </span><i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"What are you going to
do?"</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I shrugged. <i> "I
dunno."</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">But then I sat with it.</span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Turned it over in mind and heart.</span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Prayed about it.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Eventually, I asked myself, <i>"What would your biological
father do?"</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>And I did the opposite.</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I called his hospice, briefly explained my unusual family
dynamics to the nurse, and asked her if she would convey a message to my dying
biological father.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>"Of course," </i>she said. <i>"What would you like me to tell
him?"</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>"Please tell him that I forgive him and I pray that he
will find the peace and goodness in the Afterlife that eluded him in this
life."<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">It suddenly just occurred to me - the reason for this
post. I am hoping some little girl,
sitting in her pink painted bedroom in Topeka, Tacoma, or Toledo, will read
this and stop her perverted inner-dialogue from ever forming. Instead, I hope she tells herself, <i><b>"It
was his deficits that made him pack his bag and leave, not yours. You are pretty, smart, funny, kind,
fill-in-the-blank enough just as you are."</b></i></span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Xp3yB2wpVO0/VtCildJNuFI/AAAAAAAAEVw/1IqOvGVUacc/s1600/002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Xp3yB2wpVO0/VtCildJNuFI/AAAAAAAAEVw/1IqOvGVUacc/s320/002.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Leah Marie Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05432159961271108072noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5643689677312985511.post-10862253193092350162015-12-28T10:33:00.000-08:002015-12-28T10:33:50.967-08:00What's So Great About Scotland?<br />
<br /><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5Oels8sw3AA/VoF5jYGojKI/AAAAAAAAERk/nbep2PBPbho/s1600/Corgarff%2BCastle%2Bwatermark.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5Oels8sw3AA/VoF5jYGojKI/AAAAAAAAERk/nbep2PBPbho/s400/Corgarff%2BCastle%2Bwatermark.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">When I woke this morning,</span></b> I
detected a nip in the air, an unmistakable drop in temperature heralding the
approach of autumn. Here in Colorado,
that means getting the snow blower serviced, pulling out your down filled parka,
and stocking the pantry with survival food (caramel chocolate bars, tortilla
chips, and wine). Unlike other places in
the world, Colorado does not slip gently into that good season. When the first cool breeze blows, snow is
soon to follow.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">Rather than mourn the demise
of bathing suit season, I made myself a pot of tea and toast with strawberry
jam. For me, tea and toast slathered
with strawberry jam are inextricably linked with autumn. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">I blame it on Scotland. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">Several years ago, my <a href="http://www.cindy-miles.com/" target="_blank"><b>best friend</b></a> nagged/bargained/convinced me to go on a three week tour of the United
Kingdom with her. I was the reluctant
tourist. Not because I loathe
travel. On the contrary. <i>J’adore</i>
travel! But at that time, France and I
were still in our honeymoon stage. Frankly,
I was eyelids deep in love with Paris and couldn’t imagine being
unfaithful. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">Ever.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">Our phone conversations turned
into word association battles.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">“Buckingham Palace,”</span></i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;"> she would say.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">“<i>Versailles.”</i> I would counter. “<i>‘Nuff
said.” <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">“Victoria and Albert.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">“The Louvre.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">“Fish and chips,” </span></i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">she would cry.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">“Croissants and champagne!”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">Boo-yah! At that point, she would usually fall silent
and I would feel victorious. I mean, who
can argue with <i>pain au chocolat</i> and
champagne for breakfast? Um. Nobody.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">In the end, her passion for
all things Scots, and my desire to spend QT with my best girlfriend, had me heading
to Kayak to purchase </span><span style="line-height: 17.12px;">round-trip</span><span style="line-height: 107%;"> tickets to London. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">Since this isn’t a travel
piece, I will just give you a written montage of the first portion of our
journey: Tower of London. High tea.
Shopping at Harrods. Getting
arrested by Buckingham Palace Guards.
Castle. Castle. Brighton (<i>where
I stared longingly across the Channel at my beloved France</i>). Jane Austen’s Bath. Wales.
Harry Potter’s castle, Alnwich.
And then…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">Scotland! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">After a whirlwind tour of
Edinburgh, we headed to our cottage, perched on a hill overlooking a sheep farm
near Strathpeffer. We spent the next
week doing what girlfriends do when they are together: talk, laugh, shop,
rescue critically ill sheep. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">We hiked to the top of paps
and yodeled like the people in the Ricola commercials. We fell in love with the sturdy, plucky West
Highland Terriers we saw in village parks and vowed we would each adopt one
someday. We tried Drambuie at the tavern
where it was first made. We walked
between standing stones and hoped to be transported through time into the arms
of a brave, brawny Scotsman, like Claire in Outlander. We tromped through bogs in our brand new
shiny Wellies, and returned to the cottage to feast on toast slathered with
Mackays Strawberry Conserve. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zt17sS0bNUQ/VRmSY93QAgI/AAAAAAAADzY/xwS1xKyjjdY/s1600/FindingIt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zt17sS0bNUQ/VRmSY93QAgI/AAAAAAAADzY/xwS1xKyjjdY/s200/FindingIt.jpg" width="133" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Finding-Girls-Book-Marie-Brown-ebook/dp/B00TNBLY1Q/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1451327423&sr=8-1&keywords=finding+it+leah" target="_blank"><b><span style="font-size: small;">Order Finding It <br />today! </span></b></a></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">And just like that, I made
room in my heart for a new <i>lovah</i>:
Scotland. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">So, when I sat down to plot
out </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;"><a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Finding-Girls-Book-Marie-Brown-ebook/dp/B00TNBLY1Q/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1440089742&sr=8-1&keywords=finding+it+leah"><b>Finding
It</b></a></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">, book two of my
It Girls series, I knew I had to set the book in Scotland. The <i>It
Girls</i> books are all about self-exploration and growth, broadening one’s
horizons through travel, and building the best, most enriching friendships one
can build. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">Sure, they are romance novels
– which means there are sexy, charming men and some crazy-hot-monkey sex – but
at their core, they are about how true friendships motivate, mold, and sustain
us. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">My best friend motivated me to
visit Scotland. The memories we made that
autumn have molded me into a different writer and sustained me when the darker
side of life has closed in. So, to
answer the question posed to me by the editor of this blog – <i><b>“Why did you place your novel in Scotland?”</b> </i>–
Because I couldn’t think of a better setting for a novel about adventure, love,
and friendship.<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-p0B8m7Pubwo/VoF7nJoNOFI/AAAAAAAAESA/Kim37299_JU/s1600/Castle%2Bwith%2BSheep%2B3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="90" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-p0B8m7Pubwo/VoF7nJoNOFI/AAAAAAAAESA/Kim37299_JU/s400/Castle%2Bwith%2BSheep%2B3.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Castle on the Hill<br />Corgarff Castle, Highlands</b></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--55fmz9P0Q8/VoF7s4pcD3I/AAAAAAAAESg/ZSHSrbHgeVA/s1600/Stones%2B%2526%2BHeaven%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="86" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--55fmz9P0Q8/VoF7s4pcD3I/AAAAAAAAESg/ZSHSrbHgeVA/s400/Stones%2B%2526%2BHeaven%2B2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Angus' Stones<br />Standing Stones on a farm near Dingwall</b></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-efrlvuzS5Rk/VoF7pIK7fgI/AAAAAAAAESI/V6Dxk61UMBU/s1600/Gaelic%2BSheep.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-efrlvuzS5Rk/VoF7pIK7fgI/AAAAAAAAESI/V6Dxk61UMBU/s400/Gaelic%2BSheep.jpg" width="265" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Follow the Leader<br />Sheep beside a sign in Gaelic, high in the Highlands</b></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Hairy Coo<br />Highlands Cows near Culloden Battlefield</b></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ezjEHPTXW_I/VoF7qwHJxwI/AAAAAAAAESU/dRF7nMz4Kq0/s1600/Hay%2B1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ezjEHPTXW_I/VoF7qwHJxwI/AAAAAAAAESU/dRF7nMz4Kq0/s400/Hay%2B1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Bucolic Beauty<br />A hay field near Castle Fraser, Highlands</b></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YxYvCPoWLvs/VoF7u9tkD_I/AAAAAAAAESo/DbIvnaF-6qw/s1600/Angus%252C%2BShep%2Band%2Bthe%2BSheep.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YxYvCPoWLvs/VoF7u9tkD_I/AAAAAAAAESo/DbIvnaF-6qw/s400/Angus%252C%2BShep%2Band%2Bthe%2BSheep.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>The Real Angus<br />Angus and his sheep, Shep, his faithful collie is popping his head up to the left of the photo,<br />Near Dingwall</b></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZX6jGP2xpk8/VoF7vS8pjcI/AAAAAAAAESw/3ONgpx_DoS4/s1600/Get%2Ba%2Bwee%2Bwee%2Bbye.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZX6jGP2xpk8/VoF7vS8pjcI/AAAAAAAAESw/3ONgpx_DoS4/s400/Get%2Ba%2Bwee%2Bwee%2Bbye.jpg" width="265" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>My Buddy<br />After a few visits, Shep has become my good buddy.<br />I am even wearing a beanie with the words, "Get a wee, wee bye, Shep!"<br /> - the words Angus uses to encourages Shep to round up the herd.</b></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bPjIZAvgY38/VoF7vecpEUI/AAAAAAAAESs/ikdXVsSOYgc/s1600/Get%2Balong%2Blittle%2Bsheep.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bPjIZAvgY38/VoF7vecpEUI/AAAAAAAAESs/ikdXVsSOYgc/s400/Get%2Balong%2Blittle%2Bsheep.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Under a Blue Heaven<br />Pasture in the Highlands</b></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3f_f19Raqh8/VoF7vhVCZ3I/AAAAAAAAES0/oiG63yw5ztU/s1600/Sheep%2BPals.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3f_f19Raqh8/VoF7vhVCZ3I/AAAAAAAAES0/oiG63yw5ztU/s320/Sheep%2BPals.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>True Friendship<br />Cindy is such a great friend, she let me talk her into<br />wearing ridiculous hats and posing in the pasture with<br />the sheep. (To be fair, it didn't take a lot of convincing)</b></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jFgCrNMjdn4/VoF7y_yWQ-I/AAAAAAAAETM/tfhYPoeFqO4/s1600/moody%2Bsea.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jFgCrNMjdn4/VoF7y_yWQ-I/AAAAAAAAETM/tfhYPoeFqO4/s400/moody%2Bsea.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Moody Sky<br />The northern coast of Scotland</b></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dMfenbIM5ms/VoF7yVZ1drI/AAAAAAAAETI/w36w0X1n_xs/s1600/Moody.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dMfenbIM5ms/VoF7yVZ1drI/AAAAAAAAETI/w36w0X1n_xs/s320/Moody.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Chilling<br />Here I am, just chilling in my Beatles tee and beanie,<br />watching the surf roll in.</b></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qC2qm7bH7oI/VoF70SPB8NI/AAAAAAAAETY/-CDrPqRGZAU/s1600/Glamis%2BAll%2BMine.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qC2qm7bH7oI/VoF70SPB8NI/AAAAAAAAETY/-CDrPqRGZAU/s400/Glamis%2BAll%2BMine.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>It's All Mine<br />Striking my trademark pose outside Glamis Castle</b></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-W1dvWf6Cnzk/VoF75b38XWI/AAAAAAAAETk/OL6muwOcTQ8/s1600/Adam%2BSmith.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-W1dvWf6Cnzk/VoF75b38XWI/AAAAAAAAETk/OL6muwOcTQ8/s400/Adam%2BSmith.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>In the Gloaming<br />Edinburgh just before nightfall</b></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UIY4T0-9EXk/VoF75NODKnI/AAAAAAAAETg/0IAeQVcAa7w/s1600/Cool%2Bbuildings.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="313" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UIY4T0-9EXk/VoF75NODKnI/AAAAAAAAETg/0IAeQVcAa7w/s400/Cool%2Bbuildings.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Old Town Edinburgh</b></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dApDzERjxkc/VoF752BwV1I/AAAAAAAAETo/NDfkGJtjZY8/s1600/Georgian%2BHome.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dApDzERjxkc/VoF752BwV1I/AAAAAAAAETo/NDfkGJtjZY8/s400/Georgian%2BHome.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>New Town Edinburgh</b></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Gmp1CGPXJsY/VoF8B1pmtCI/AAAAAAAAEUA/CYGrOQaRHG8/s1600/Cindy%2Band%2BI.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Gmp1CGPXJsY/VoF8B1pmtCI/AAAAAAAAEUA/CYGrOQaRHG8/s400/Cindy%2Band%2BI.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Sunset on the Stones<br />One of my favorite things to do in Scotland is take<br />an evening hike and watch the sun set over the stones</b></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-T2f9zLcJW_8/VoF8CPyWveI/AAAAAAAAET8/gD2E478BdAk/s1600/stones%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><b><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-T2f9zLcJW_8/VoF8CPyWveI/AAAAAAAAET8/gD2E478BdAk/s400/stones%2B2.jpg" width="265" /></b></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Stones and the Heavens</b></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YgsdrlWQrwo/VoF8B4mGHSI/AAAAAAAAET4/v0752gxTHDE/s1600/stones%2Bunder%2Bmoon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YgsdrlWQrwo/VoF8B4mGHSI/AAAAAAAAET4/v0752gxTHDE/s400/stones%2Bunder%2Bmoon.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><br style="font-size: 12.8px;" />Darkness Falls</b></td></tr>
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Leah Marie Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05432159961271108072noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5643689677312985511.post-57821022348174965682015-12-13T12:14:00.001-08:002015-12-13T12:15:07.069-08:00Me and Bridget Jones: Unapologetically Adorkable<div class="Body">
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">"Chick
Lit is soooo last century."</span></span></i></div>
<div class="Body">
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">"Oh
my god! I know, right?"<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
<div class="Body">
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">"They're
all fashion, fun, and female empowerment."<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
<div class="Body">
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">"Eww! Who wants to read a novel about some sad
woman stumbling through life in overpriced designer shoes?"<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
<div class="Body">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I
was standing in my local bookstore when I overheard the above conversation and
I literally had to stop myself from raising my hand, jumping up and down, and
crying<i>, "Oo! Me!
Me! I want to read about a
less-than-perfect woman balancing life, love, and lustful pursuits in a pair of
fabulous Louboutins!”<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">But
then, I have always been the hot pink mini in the closet full of little black
dresses. Remember Joan Cusack’s bit part
in the movie <i>Sixteen Candles</i>? The comically, awkward girl in the back
brace, trying valiantly to take a sip from the water fountain. Yeah, that’s <i>me</i>. When everyone else was
reading time travel romance, I was reading (and writing) historical
fiction. When everyone else was reading
zombie/vampire/shape shifter romances, I was reading sweet Women’s
Fiction. Now, as readers are clamoring
for the next big dystopian society read or 50 Shades knockoff, I am reading
(and writing) light, breezy Chick Lit.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Why?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Because
Bridget Jones changed my life. Actually,
her Diary changed my life. It's probably
cliché for a Chick Lit author to say Helen Fielding's bestseller inspired her
to write a funny, female empowerment story, but it's true. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="Body">
<a href="http://adaringadventure.typepad.com/.a/6a01348134c1a0970c01910227e77d970c-pi" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://adaringadventure.typepad.com/.a/6a01348134c1a0970c01910227e77d970c-pi" height="138" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I
</span><i style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">get </i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: large;">girls like Bridget because, behind my smiling facade, my expensively
maintained mane of blonde hair, my seemingly together act, I am an awkward,
inadvertently comical girl.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I am
stumbling through life (sadly, </span><i style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">sans</i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: large;">
Louboutins), meeting challenges with a quirky, self-depreciating kind of humor.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="Body">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body">
<a href="https://media.giphy.com/media/h8i5ZNNTh6ybe/giphy.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="156" src="https://media.giphy.com/media/h8i5ZNNTh6ybe/giphy.gif" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: large;">If
we were invited to the same party, you would find me in the corner laughing
with the clique of women who don’t take themselves too seriously, who possess a
</span><i style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">joie de vivre</i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: large;">, and a hunger to
connect.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Across the room would be the badass
vampire slayers, leather clad dominatrices, and bow-toting tributes.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I would complement the vampire slayer on her
fab jewel encrusted crucifix, ask the dominatrix if her bustier was from
Prada’s Fall line, and get Katniss talking about her love for Peeta.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The other crowd would tolerate me, but
snicker as I walked away.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The hardcore, end-of-the world saviors and other-world slayers would say I am </span><i style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">pathetically</i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> LB (legally blonde).</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">And
I would be okay with that. Bridget and
her peeps have taught me it’s okay to move through life with designer rose
colored glasses, to apply liberal doses of laughter to all that ails you, to unapologetically strive for empowerment, and to surround yourself with a
colorful cast of slightly awkward, totally lovable characters.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fjbawx1iEEg/VOZPjwSUM_I/AAAAAAAADxI/wOGKZGX_miE/s320/Faking%2BIt.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="213" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>Faking It, book one of my <br />bestselling It Girls series, is<br />available now. Click <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Faking-It-The-Girls-Book-ebook/dp/B00PP2ZXZA" target="_blank">here</a><br />to order your copy!</b></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zt17sS0bNUQ/VRmSY93QAgI/AAAAAAAADzY/xwS1xKyjjdY/s1600/FindingIt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zt17sS0bNUQ/VRmSY93QAgI/AAAAAAAADzY/xwS1xKyjjdY/s320/FindingIt.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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<b>The laughter continues with</b></div>
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<b>Finding It, book two of </b></div>
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<b>the It Girls series. Click</b></div>
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<b><a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00TNBLY1Q/ref=series_rw_dp_sw" target="_blank">here </a>to get your copy!</b></div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aQiz0AN6Em4/Vm3PdsmkXWI/AAAAAAAAERE/ifYfODifArE/s1600/Cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aQiz0AN6Em4/Vm3PdsmkXWI/AAAAAAAAERE/ifYfODifArE/s320/Cover.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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<b>Will Vivia's BFF find a destiny</b></div>
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<b>more valuable than Dior? Will</b></div>
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<b>she find a hot romance in </b></div>
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<b>cold Alaska? <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B015BCRXE2/ref=series_rw_dp_sw" target="_blank">Pre-order</a></b></div>
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<b><a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B015BCRXE2/ref=series_rw_dp_sw" target="_blank">your copy today!</a></b></div>
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Leah Marie Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05432159961271108072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5643689677312985511.post-45937776371655831162015-08-20T13:09:00.001-07:002015-08-20T13:19:49.467-07:00Paris is Always a Good Idea<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">From a young age, I determined to adhere to the words of the incomparable Audrey Hepburn, who once declared, "Paris is <i>always </i>a good idea."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Paris <i>is </i>always a good idea: as a vacation destination, a place of residence, and as a setting for movies and novels.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">In the movie Sabrina, Audrey's character writes a letter home to her father, waxing poetic about her feelings for Paris. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>"I am looking at the world through rose colored glasses and it says everything I feel. I've learned so many things, Father...I have learned how to live."</i></span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Why? Why is Paris the setting <i>parfait </i>for an exploration of one's character...or for a novel?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Because when you are there, every breath you inhale is tinged with hope, every exhalation with gratitude. Hope for a <i>grand histoire d'amour - </i> a great love affair. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Hope for one of those serendipitous moments - when the light filters through the spires of Notre Dame leaving a lacy patterned shadow on the square in which you stand, when the setting sun transforms the Seine into a river of gold, when the scent of fresh bread permeates the air, when a handsome stranger strides across the bistro and says, </span><br />
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<span style="color: #674ea7; font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>"Je suis ravi par votre beaut</i></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 23.3999996185303px;"><i>é."</i></span></b></span></blockquote>
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<span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><b>"I am enraptured by your beauty."</b></i></span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Because, let's face it, those things don't happen in Poughkeepsie, Pomona, or Portland. They just don't.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Edith Piaf got it. La Vie en Rose. Life through rose colored glasses. Sigh. <b> </b></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0feNVUwQA8U" target="_blank"><b>(Click here to listen to Edith's version)</b></a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">So, if life is looking a little bleak through your RayBans, grab one of these fabulous novels and transport yourself to that magical, rose-stained city, Paris. </span><br />
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<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Faking-It-The-Girls-Book-ebook/dp/B00PP2ZXZA" target="_blank"><img border="0" height="160" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KE-J0oeIgRQ/VdYnxfeqDpI/AAAAAAAAEGM/BWaZkjFzK9g/s320/paris%2Bone.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Love-Paris-Alexandra-Potter/dp/1444712179/ref=sr_1_cc_1?s=aps&ie=UTF8&qid=1440098645&sr=1-1-catcorr&keywords=alexandra+potter+paris" target="_blank"><img border="0" height="160" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bpsdQ5iFSL4/VdYo4sGhb5I/AAAAAAAAEGY/cfFqTm6b0GM/s320/paris%2Btwo.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Love-Paris-Alexandra-Potter/dp/1444712179/ref=sr_1_cc_1?s=aps&ie=UTF8&qid=1440098645&sr=1-1-catcorr&keywords=alexandra+potter+paris" target="_blank"><img border="0" height="160" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NcyLJGdS_k0/VdYraQzVmaI/AAAAAAAAEGk/G5IaiyVfP10/s320/paris%2B3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.amazon.com/French-Always-Fiona-Valpy/dp/190949030X/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1440099526&sr=1-1&keywords=fiona+valpy" target="_blank"><img border="0" height="160" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qEqEWrWlYUs/VdYshCKxbYI/AAAAAAAAEGs/zFlK0ByrZAk/s320/paris%2B4.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Leah Marie Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05432159961271108072noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5643689677312985511.post-91184551314760139082015-06-09T13:18:00.001-07:002015-06-11T16:12:07.075-07:00Happy Birthday Vivia!<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Let's face it, births are messy and painful, but <i>birthdays </i>are fabulous and fun! </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hbrlfurN9lg/VXccpRUyDHI/AAAAAAAAD6c/hCGoZw4onYY/s1600/Cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hbrlfurN9lg/VXccpRUyDHI/AAAAAAAAD6c/hCGoZw4onYY/s200/Cover.jpg" width="133" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">To c</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">elebrate my novel's one month birthday, I am throwing an uber-fabulous online party, and <i>you </i>are invited. There will be virtual <a href="http://media.giphy.com/media/jp4VHvvA0Tovm/giphy.gif" target="_blank"><b>glitter</b></a>, champagne, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KPoaKxm4wDg&index=13&list=PLpsS9ioOvjAfVjcAo2HAOhhH7L9icrR84" target="_blank"><b>music</b></a>, a <a href="http://img.pandawhale.com/post-28874-johnny-depp-blow-kiss-gif-Cryb-OcJF.gif" target="_blank"><b>celebrity appearance</b></a>, and prezies for all! </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">So don your swankiest ensemble, </span><i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">mon amie</i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">, and let's get ready to </span><i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">paaaarty</i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Nothing is worse than walking blind into a party. Am I right? I don't mean <i>literally </i>walking blind - that would be painful. You still have your sense of sight, but you don't know a single person at the party. You are the outsider...and you feel awkward, a little self-conscious, constantly checking your breath, hair, pits. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I don't want any of you to feel that way. Let's just forgo the nervous tummies and sweaty pits, shall we? Allow me to share the guest list...</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8ZV9Lzg1H3g/VXchuNwugXI/AAAAAAAAD68/xvAJ7KLckbM/s1600/Emma-Stone-Wallpaper-emma-stone-27026721-1024-768.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8ZV9Lzg1H3g/VXchuNwugXI/AAAAAAAAD68/xvAJ7KLckbM/s200/Emma-Stone-Wallpaper-emma-stone-27026721-1024-768.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b style="font-size: x-large;">Vivia Perpetua Grant</b><span style="font-size: large;"> will be in the house. Vivia is the heroine of Faking It. Some reviewers have described her as "<i>an adorkable hot mess</i>" and "<i>the best heroine, like, ever</i>." She is a bit conflicted. She wears conservative clothes, but listens to raunchy metal music. She takes Zumba classes until she drops, and then eats Mister Foos Spicy Chicken or <a href="http://torchystacos.com/" target="_blank"><b>Torchy's Tacos</b></a>. She's engaged to a conservative, prudish lawyer, but lusts for bad boy rocker, <a href="https://twitter.com/ronnieradke" target="_blank"><b>Ronnie Radke</b></a>. She is struggling to forge an identity that is pleasing to others, but true to herself. You'll probably find her talking non-stop or sipping champagne cocktails. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Stephanie Moreau</b>, Vivia's best friend, will also be at the party. Fanny is witty and sophisticated. She's French, which means the sophistication gene is pretty much hardwired into her DNA. She is also an uber-competitive Type A, busting her size 2 ass at work and at the gym. Don't let her poised, polished facade fool you, because on the inside, she is a wreck...but you won't learn more about that until book three, Working It.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Jean-Luc de Caumont</b> is Vivia's crazy hot boyfriend. The Frenchman is a professor of Literature at the University of Montpellier and a former Tour de France cyclist. Be careful around Luc. Although he is completely loyal to Vivia, some reviewers have described him as an "Adonis on a bike" and a "hero with impossible to resist charm." Another reviewer said, "What woman wouldn't fall for a sensual Frenchman who...'<i>smells like sex and sunshine, passion and power, a sultry aroma that could be worn only by confident men like Greek gods or Roman gladiators</i>'?"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Many other characters will be in attendance - too many to list on a single blog entry. The important thing is that you have met three major players, which should help you to feel more confident about striding into the soiree <i>sans </i>your plus one. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>THE SWAG:</b></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I know what you are thinking: Dispense with these polite introductions and unnecessary social graces, Leah Marie, and show me the swag. </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I promised you prezies and here they are:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Here are two prezies for everyone! </i>First, I would like to give you access to an <a href="http://leahmariebrown4.wix.com/leahmarie#!faking-it/c1pxe" target="_blank"><b>Excerpt of Faking It</b></a>. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Second, I would like to give you a sneak peek at the second book in my It Girls series, <a href="http://leahmariebrown4.wix.com/leahmarie#!copy-of-faking-it/c2t6" target="_blank"><b>Finding It</b></a>. </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Next, be sure to register to win one or more of these fabulous giveaway prezies! To make entering easier, I have set up Rafflecopters, which are listed below each prize description. Bon chance!</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zt17sS0bNUQ/VRmSY93QAgI/AAAAAAAADzY/xwS1xKyjjdY/s1600/FindingIt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zt17sS0bNUQ/VRmSY93QAgI/AAAAAAAADzY/xwS1xKyjjdY/s200/FindingIt.jpg" width="132" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Prize one:</b> Pin the cover of Finding It onto any of your Pinterest boards and use the hashtags #ItGirls and #leahmariebrown and you will automatically be entered to win an autographed copy of <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Finding-Girls-Book-Marie-Brown-ebook/dp/B00TNBLY1Q/ref=sr_1_fkmr0_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1433880500&sr=1-2-fkmr0&keywords=faking+it+leah&pebp=1433880506760&perid=1AKPY8QK323NQ2AF7JM7" target="_blank"><b>FINDING IT</b></a>, book two of my It Girls series. Follow Vivia on her misadventures to London, Edinburgh, and the Highlands! Subscribe to my mailing list and you will get a second entry.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a class="rcptr" data-raflid="6fec676b6" data-template="" data-theme="classic" href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/6fec676b6/" id="rcwidget_led5ehb5" rel="nofollow">a Rafflecopter giveaway</a>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Prize two: </b>Want another chance to win a fab prize? All you have to do is post a brief review of Faking It on <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/24980083-faking-it" target="_blank">Goodreads </a>or <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Faking-Girls-Book-Marie-Brown-ebook/dp/B00PP2ZXZA/ref=sr_1_1_twi_1_kin?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1433868603&sr=1-1&keywords=faking+it+leah" target="_blank">Amazon </a>and you will be entered to win a super swanky <a href="http://www.amazon.com/kate-spade-new-york-Paperweight/dp/B00CID3KL8/ref=sr_1_4?ie=UTF8&qid=1433872823&sr=8-4&keywords=kate+spade+paperweight&pebp=1433872829897&perid=0PQSHX18H6X5MF057V0K" target="_blank">Kate Spade paperweight</a>.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Don't groan! This isn't just some ordinary hunk of glass...this is an uber-cute paperweight that says, "Eat Cake For Breakfast." I have one just like it...so if you win, we will be paperweight pals. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a class="rcptr" data-raflid="6fec676b7" data-template="" data-theme="classic" href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/6fec676b7/" id="rcwidget_dt7hxznp" rel="nofollow">a Rafflecopter giveaway</a>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dMM6QOAUMME/VXdIXeE-odI/AAAAAAAAD7w/2L5WlbZCFPs/s1600/StupidBoy.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dMM6QOAUMME/VXdIXeE-odI/AAAAAAAAD7w/2L5WlbZCFPs/s200/StupidBoy.png" width="133" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Prize three: </b>Listen up y'all, the mega talented writer, Cindy Miles, is in the house and she's brought some swag. She has donated digital copies of her wildly popular New Adult books, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Stupid-Girl-Adult-Romance-Love-ebook/dp/B00JRQH5WE/ref=pd_sim_351_10?ie=UTF8&refRID=12ZD8R3VCR6MZ6KN31F6" target="_blank"><b>Stupid Girl</b></a> and <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Stupid-Adult-Romance-Love-Book-ebook/dp/B00KYY4QUW/ref=pd_sim_351_1?ie=UTF8&refRID=16JKXMCBGDT3HGT9TAZC" target="_blank"><b>Stupid Boy</b></a>. All you need to do to enter to win her books is tweet or post the following message: </span><br />
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<b>I just attended the #FakingIt birthday bash & entered to win @cindymilesbooks & other fab swag! You should enter: http://bit.ly/1ICKW3H</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><br /><a class="rcptr" data-raflid="6fec676b8" data-template="" data-theme="classic" href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/6fec676b8/" id="rcwidget_qjcl2bb1" rel="nofollow">a Rafflecopter giveaway</a> </span></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Prize four: </b>My awesome publisher, Kensington/Lyrical, has donated an ab fab Kate Spade Daycation Bon Shopper bag! This is the bag <i>parfait </i>for a trip to the beach -- maybe Cannes -- or your local market. Love, love, love Kensington and love, love, love this </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">bag. To enter to win this bag, all you have to do is tweet: </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>What do I pack in my carry-on? @KensingtonBooks like @leahmariebrown's hilarious new #Chicklit novel #FakingIt <a class="twitter-timeline-link" data-expanded-url="http://amzn.to/1bR0H9k" dir="ltr" href="http://t.co/EstCaNzSp7" rel="nofollow" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: #f5f8fa; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #c748a9; letter-spacing: 0.259999990463257px; line-height: 32px; outline: 0px; white-space: pre-wrap;" target="_blank" title="http://amzn.to/1bR0H9k"><span class="js-display-url">amzn.to/1bR0H9k</span><span class="invisible" style="line-height: 0;"></span><span class="tco-ellipsis"><span class="invisible" style="line-height: 0;"> </span></span></a><span style="background-color: #f5f8fa; color: #292f33; letter-spacing: 0.259999990463257px; line-height: 32px; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span></b></span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wolfljMDrNM/VXnTSXxxFFI/AAAAAAAAD8U/AjOMzKM2uao/s1600/duvine-logo.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wolfljMDrNM/VXnTSXxxFFI/AAAAAAAAD8U/AjOMzKM2uao/s1600/duvine-logo.png" /></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Prize five:</b> <a href="http://www.duvine.com/" target="_blank">DuVine Bike Tours and Cycling Adventures</a> has generously donated five of their handy and stylish cycling bags. These are sturdy bags, perfect for any of your adventures. To enter to win a bag, all you have to do is leave a comment at the end of this post answering this question: If you could go on a cycling adventure anywhere in the world, where would you go? Score an extra entry by tweeting this:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>I just finished reading #FakingIt by @leahmariebrown & now I want to go on a @Duvine cycling adventure to #France! <a class="twitter-timeline-link" data-expanded-url="http://amzn.to/1bR0H9k" dir="ltr" href="http://t.co/EstCaNzSp7" rel="nofollow" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: #f5f8fa; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #c748a9; letter-spacing: 0.259999990463257px; line-height: 32px; outline: 0px; white-space: pre-wrap;" target="_blank" title="http://amzn.to/1bR0H9k"><span class="js-display-url">amzn.to/1bR0H9k</span><span class="invisible" style="line-height: 0;"></span><span class="tco-ellipsis"><span class="invisible" style="line-height: 0;"> </span></span></a><span style="background-color: #f5f8fa; color: #292f33; letter-spacing: 0.259999990463257px; line-height: 32px; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Prize six: </b>Sharon Hubner Wilson, an authorized <a href="https://www.facebook.com/sharonhubnerwilson?ref=br_rs" target="_blank">Younique</a> saleswoman, has donated one fiber mascara set. This mascara is truly amazing, giving you the false lashes look without all of that messy glue. To enter to win the mascara, please answer the following question in my comments section: What is your best beauty product find?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a class="rcptr" data-raflid="6fec676b11" data-template="" data-theme="classic" href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/6fec676b11/" id="rcwidget_wehofj1i" rel="nofollow">a Rafflecopter giveaway</a>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Prize seven:</b> RITA nominated author, Lily Dalton, has donated a copy of her novel, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Never-Surrender-Scoundrel-Scandalous-Season-ebook/dp/B00KAEXM7Y/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1434048618&sr=1-1&keywords=lily+dalton+never&pebp=1434048629443&perid=18A3DB85126C4FAA9949" target="_blank">Never Surrender to a Scoundrel</a>. To enter to win this prize, all you have to do is post the following message on your Facebook wall or Twitter feed:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>I just added Never Surrender to a Scoundrel by @lilydalton & Faking It by @leahmariebrown to my @Amazon wish list! <a class="twitter-timeline-link" data-expanded-url="http://amzn.to/1bR0H9k" dir="ltr" href="http://t.co/EstCaNihxz" rel="nofollow" style="background: rgb(245, 248, 250); color: #c748a9; letter-spacing: 0.259999990463257px; line-height: 32px; outline: 0px; white-space: pre-wrap;" target="_blank" title="http://amzn.to/1bR0H9k"><span class="js-display-url">amzn.to/1bR0H9k</span><span class="invisible" style="line-height: 0;"></span><span class="tco-ellipsis"><span class="invisible" style="line-height: 0;"> </span></span></a><span style="background-color: #f5f8fa; color: #292f33; letter-spacing: 0.259999990463257px; line-height: 32px; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Prize eight: </b>My friend and fellow author, Kieran Kramer, has donated an advance reader's copy of her novel <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Trouble-When-You-Walked-In/dp/1250009936" target="_blank">Trouble When You Walked In</a> and a treat bag. To enter to win Kieran's novel, all you have to do is tweet or FB post the following message:</span><br />
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<b style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I just added Trouble When You Walked In by @kierankramer & Faking It by @leahmariebrown to my @Amazon wish list! <a class="twitter-timeline-link" data-expanded-url="http://amzn.to/1bR0H9k" dir="ltr" href="http://t.co/EstCaNihxz" rel="nofollow" style="background: rgb(245, 248, 250); color: #c748a9; letter-spacing: 0.259999990463257px; line-height: 32px; outline: 0px; white-space: pre-wrap;" target="_blank" title="http://amzn.to/1bR0H9k"><span class="js-display-url">amzn.to/1bR0H9k</span><span class="invisible" style="line-height: 0;"></span><span class="tco-ellipsis"><span class="invisible" style="line-height: 0;"> </span></span></a><span style="background-color: #f5f8fa; color: #292f33; letter-spacing: 0.259999990463257px; line-height: 32px; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Prize nine: </b> The incredibly motivating and talented author, Renee Ryan, has donated a copy of her novel The Marriage Agreement. If you would like to enter to win a copy of Renee's novel, all you have to do is tweet or Facebook post the following message:</span><br />
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<b style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I just added The Marriage Agreement by @reneeryanbooks & Faking It by @leahmariebrown to my @Amazon wish list! <a class="twitter-timeline-link" data-expanded-url="http://amzn.to/1bR0H9k" dir="ltr" href="http://t.co/EstCaNihxz" rel="nofollow" style="background: rgb(245, 248, 250); color: #c748a9; letter-spacing: 0.259999990463257px; line-height: 32px; outline: 0px; white-space: pre-wrap;" target="_blank" title="http://amzn.to/1bR0H9k"><span class="js-display-url">amzn.to/1bR0H9k</span><span class="invisible" style="line-height: 0;"></span><span class="tco-ellipsis"><span class="invisible" style="line-height: 0;"> </span></span></a><span style="background-color: #f5f8fa; color: #292f33; letter-spacing: 0.259999990463257px; line-height: 32px; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Prize ten:</b> Want to win a twenty five dollar Amazon gift card? All you have to do is tweet or Facebook post the following message:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>I just finished reading the hilarious #chicklit #novel #FakingIt by @leahmariebrown & #MySidesAche from laughing <a class="twitter-timeline-link" data-expanded-url="http://amzn.to/1bR0H9k" dir="ltr" href="http://t.co/EstCaNihxz" rel="nofollow" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: #f5f8fa; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #c748a9; letter-spacing: 0.259999990463257px; line-height: 32px; outline: 0px; white-space: pre-wrap;" target="_blank" title="http://amzn.to/1bR0H9k"><span class="js-display-url">amzn.to/1bR0H9k</span><span class="invisible" style="line-height: 0;"></span><span class="tco-ellipsis"><span class="invisible" style="line-height: 0;"> </span></span></a><span style="background-color: #f5f8fa; color: #292f33; letter-spacing: 0.259999990463257px; line-height: 32px; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Prize ten: </b> The wonderful, award-winning novelist, <a href="http://www.karendocter.com/" target="_blank">Karen Docter</a>, has donated a digital copy of her upcoming release, Cop On Her Doorstep, a True Love in Uniform novel. To enter to win a copy of Karen't novel, all you have to do is tweet or FB post the following message:</span><br />
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<b style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I just added Cop On Her Doorstep @karendocter & Faking It by @leahmariebrown to my @Amazon wish list! <a class="twitter-timeline-link" data-expanded-url="http://amzn.to/1bR0H9k" dir="ltr" href="http://t.co/EstCaNihxz" rel="nofollow" style="background: rgb(245, 248, 250); color: #c748a9; letter-spacing: 0.259999990463257px; line-height: 32px; outline: 0px; white-space: pre-wrap;" target="_blank" title="http://amzn.to/1bR0H9k"><span class="js-display-url">amzn.to/1bR0H9k</span><span class="invisible" style="line-height: 0;"></span><span class="tco-ellipsis"><span class="invisible" style="line-height: 0;"> </span></span></a><span style="background-color: #f5f8fa; color: #292f33; letter-spacing: 0.259999990463257px; line-height: 32px; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Prize eleven:</b> I am giving away a gift basket filled with lovely goodies from Provence and Tuscany. To enter to win this basket, you must leave a review for FAKING IT on Goodreads, Amazon, or Barns & Noble. If you would like an extra five entries, pre-order FINDING IT and send a copy of your email </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">confirmation/receipt to my email address: leahmariebrown@live.com</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">We've done a lot of talking - which is totally cool - but I think it's time for some tunes. We can get back to talking after this brief jam session with one of Vivia's favorite bands.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Vivia totally digs Red Beaches, these super delicious and crazy expensive champagne cocktails served at <a href="http://cannesmartinez.grand.hyatt.com/en/hotel/activities/hotel-activities/zplage.html" target="_blank"><b>ZPlage</b></a>, a hip beach-side bar in Cannes. She's such an amazing chick, she ordered a Red Beach for all of us...and she's giving us the recipe (which she got after she flirted with the bartender). How fab is that?</span><br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5P4qWAP8IxI/URpRCmd_nFI/AAAAAAAADIo/nJEZ_BRE9N8/s1600/the%2Bdrink.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5P4qWAP8IxI/URpRCmd_nFI/AAAAAAAADIo/nJEZ_BRE9N8/s320/the%2Bdrink.jpg" width="211" /></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>The Infamous and Coveted ZPlage Red Beach Cocktail:</b></span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5P4qWAP8IxI/URpRCmd_nFI/AAAAAAAADIo/nJEZ_BRE9N8/s1600/the%2Bdrink.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></a><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Start with an expensive bottle of Champagne, no scrimping, <i>s'il vous plait</i>. The champagne is like the base note in a complicated and pricey perfume. If you start with a foul base note, it doesn't matter which top notes you add, it will stink. Then add: </span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Malibu, </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Sirop de Fraise, </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Jus de Citron, and </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Ice!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">No birthday party is complete without toasts to the guest of honor. So, here are some plaudits for Vivia:</span><br />
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<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Prepare to laugh, to sigh, to turn pages fast! I want a one-way ticket to Vivia's world.” </span></i></span><i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.kierankramerbooks.com/" target="_blank">Kieran Kramer, USA Today Bestselling Author</a></span></i><br />
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<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“A funny, romantic, fast-paced, all-expense-paid pleasure read through France and Tuscany you don't want to miss.” <a href="http://www.gretchengalway.com/" target="_blank"> </a></span></i></span><i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.gretchengalway.com/" target="_blank">Gretchen Galway, Bestselling Author of This Time Next Door</a></span></i></div>
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<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“When it comes to crafting clever, intelligent, wonderful escapist fiction with a heroine every woman wants to know, Leah Marie Brown is a new voice to watch. Prepare to fall in love!” </span></i></span><i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.reneeryan.com/" target="_blank">Renee Ryan, Daphne du Maurier Award-Winning Author</a></span></i></div>
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<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Audacious, adorable and addictive! Faking It is a one-sitting read!”</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.catherinemann.com/" target="_blank">Catherine Mann, USA Today Bestselling Author</a></span></i></span></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">"From first page to last, Faking It, is delightful fun. I dare you not to giggle your way through the European countryside alongside jilted bride Vivia Perpetua as she discovers seldom used muscles, her self-worth, and a hot French lover on her honeymoon bicycling tour.</span>" </span></i><i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.karendocter.com/karens-killer-book-bench-faking-it-by-leah-marie-brown.html" target="_blank">Karen's Killer Book Bench</a> </i><br />
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<i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/24980083-faking-it" target="_blank">Share Reviews</a>: Vivia Grant is going down as one of my favorite heroines!</i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">It's that sad time, <i>mes amies</i> -- when glitter covers the dance floor, the champagne bottles are empty, and people are starting to move towards the door. Before you leave, let's exchange our contact deets, okay? If you would like to keep in touch with Vivia, you can follow her on her various social media accounts. </span><br />
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<li><a href="https://www.pinterest.com/PerpetualVirgin/" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;" target="_blank">Vivia Perpetua Grant</a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> on Pinterest - Boards dedicated to Vivia's absolute fave things, like food, fun, and friends.</span></li>
<li><a href="https://www.pinterest.com/perpetuallyviv/" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;" target="_blank">The Chic Traveler</a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> on Pinterest - Boards dedicated to traveling - what to wear to some of the most fab cities in the world, what to pack in your carry-on, where to eat, what to see...</span></li>
<li><a href="https://twitter.com/Just_Vivia" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;" target="_blank">Vivia Perpetua Grant</a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> on Twitter </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Vivia Perpetua Grant's </span><a href="http://leahmariebrown4.wix.com/leahmarie#!vivias-world/c21fj" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;" target="_blank">Blog</a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> - Articles written by Vivia about her wild life and slightly manic misadventures</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">. Check it out to learn where to get the best cocktail in Cannes, the best gelato in San Gimignano...</span></li>
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<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Finding-It-The-Girls-Book-ebook/dp/B00TNBLY1Q/ref=pd_sim_351_1?ie=UTF8&refRID=07QFXQXVSTXV5VA8BD4Y" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zt17sS0bNUQ/VRmSY93QAgI/AAAAAAAADzY/xwS1xKyjjdY/s400/FindingIt.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Don't be sad, Mes Amies! </b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Vivia won't be gone for long... </b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">You can follow Vivia on her wild adventures through the United Kingdom by reading book two of the It Girls, due o</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">ut September 29, 2015! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Pre-order your copy of <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Finding-It-The-Girls-Book-ebook/dp/B00TNBLY1Q/ref=pd_sim_351_1?ie=UTF8&refRID=07QFXQXVSTXV5VA8BD4Y" target="_blank"><b>FINDING IT</b></a> today! </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Now, wasn't that fun?</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>Leah Marie Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05432159961271108072noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5643689677312985511.post-85573184678835118222015-05-21T06:05:00.003-07:002015-05-21T06:05:49.759-07:00Perspective<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://i.telegraph.co.uk/multimedia/archive/02626/james-rhodes_2626644b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="http://i.telegraph.co.uk/multimedia/archive/02626/james-rhodes_2626644b.jpg" height="199" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Reading what has happened to James Rhodes certainty puts things into perspective in one's life. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Nothing - not rejection letters, not weak book sales, not even bad reviews - could compare to what James Rhodes has been through. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As a writer, I admire his dogged determination to see his work to publication. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As a human, I admire that small bubble of buoyancy he's kept alive inside of him despite the horrific things that have happened in his life.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">If you are unfamiliar with James' story, <a href="http://www.theguardian.com/music/2015/may/20/concert-pianist-james-rhodes-wins-right-to-publish-autobiography" target="_blank">click here</a>.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Excerpt of article by Cherrybatched:</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">"He said he hoped his book would help other survivors of abuse to find the courage to speak up, and that 'it will inspire those in pain to find solace in music'.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Rhodes was repeatedly raped while a pupil at the junior school at Arnold House, a preparatory school for boys in St John’s Wood, north London. His abuser was Peter Lee, who worked at the school part-time, as a boxing coach. Lee was recently arrested and charged, but died before he could be brought to trial.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">A graphic passage in Rhodes’s memoir, quoted in the supreme court judgment, describes what happened to him:</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">“Abuse. What a word. Rape is better. Abuse is when you tell a traffic warden to fuck off. It isn’t abuse when a 40-year-old man forces his cock inside a six-year-old boy’s ass. That doesn’t even come close to abuse. That is aggressive rape. It leads to multiple surgeries, scars (inside and out), tics, OCD, depression, suicidal ideation, vigorous self-harm, alcoholism, drug addiction, the most fucked-up of sexual hang-ups, gender confusion (‘you look like a girl, are you sure you’re not a little girl?’), sexuality confusion, paranoia, mistrust, compulsive lying, eating disorders, PTSD, DID (the shinier name for multiple personality disorder) and so on and on and on.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">“I went, literally overnight, from a dancing, spinning, gigglingly alive kid who was enjoying the safety and adventure of a new school, to a walled-off, cement-shoed, lights-out automaton. It was immediate and shocking, like happily walking down a sunny path and suddenly having a trapdoor open and dump you into a freezing cold lake.”</span>Leah Marie Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05432159961271108072noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5643689677312985511.post-70304737055005212122015-05-11T15:36:00.002-07:002015-05-11T18:13:59.469-07:00Johnny Depp and the Swanky Beach Bar<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-f31oq1PlSXw/VT_3dXZO5yI/AAAAAAAAD0c/PVbaJZtpldg/s1600/Cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-f31oq1PlSXw/VT_3dXZO5yI/AAAAAAAAD0c/PVbaJZtpldg/s200/Cover.jpg" width="133" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">In <a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/faking-it-leah-marie-brown/1120817225?ean=9781616508098">Faking
It</a>, my heroine has an epiphany about her life while sipping potent
champagne cocktails at a swanky beach-side bar in Cannes, France. The scene wasn't entirely fictional. There <i>is</i>
actually a swanky beach-side bar in Cannes called ZPlage.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Owned by the Hotel Martinez, a sexy, Art Deco
hotel frequented by celebrities, ZPlage is famous for their premiere beachfront
access, a rarity in the South of France, and their crazy-delicious champagne
cocktails. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9RY4sX8Wdgg/VVEuAYiKdNI/AAAAAAAAD1o/zDPdcqfozaY/s1600/ff7c3f2c5fdb2427853ef854bdc5b201.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9RY4sX8Wdgg/VVEuAYiKdNI/AAAAAAAAD1o/zDPdcqfozaY/s320/ff7c3f2c5fdb2427853ef854bdc5b201.jpg" width="214" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What to wear to ZPlage?<br />
Try Palazzo pants, strappy sandal, <br />
designer sunglasses, and statement jewelry.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YY4oqwLZfjM/VVEuCZW69oI/AAAAAAAAD1w/xoRvBT7IzaY/s1600/56ac4829a7e9656afd72f4acb53545b6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YY4oqwLZfjM/VVEuCZW69oI/AAAAAAAAD1w/xoRvBT7IzaY/s320/56ac4829a7e9656afd72f4acb53545b6.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What to read on the beach in Cannes?<br />
Light, funny, empowering Chick Lit novels are<br />
the choice parfait!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">If you would like to read more about my visit to ZPlage, read <a href="http://leahmariebrown.blogspot.com/2013/03/lunch-with-robert-redford.html" target="_blank">My Lunch with Robert Redford</a>.</span></div>
Leah Marie Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05432159961271108072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5643689677312985511.post-83126009043256625262015-05-01T07:36:00.004-07:002015-05-01T07:36:54.204-07:00National Military Appreciation Month<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bfF4foqAO-s/VUOOpYXyBxI/AAAAAAAAD00/8OKqpTx-Ehs/s1600/us-flag-and-soldier-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bfF4foqAO-s/VUOOpYXyBxI/AAAAAAAAD00/8OKqpTx-Ehs/s1600/us-flag-and-soldier-1.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a></div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;">"In 1999, Congress designated May as <span style="color: red;">National Military Appreciation Month</span>
to recognize the service and sacrifice of those in uniform. I have
dedicated May to spotlighting authors connected to the military. Today
we welcome Air Force veteran and Kensington author <span style="color: red;">Leah Marie Brown</span>..." Kim Lowe, Editor of <a href="http://sosaloha.blogspot.com/2015/05/may-is-national-military-appreciation.html" target="_blank">SOS ALOHA</a>.</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: red;">Kim</span>: Thank you for your service in the USAF! What did you learn from active duty that you can apply to your writing career? <br /><br /><span style="color: red;">LMB</span>:
Wow! That's a good question. I learned a lot of during my tour in
the United States Air Force, like the true meaning of sacrifice,
patriotism, and respect. I also learned: <br /></span></b><br />
<ul>
<li><b><span style="font-size: medium;">If you slip the base
tailor twenty bucks, she will nip your Blues in at the waist a little to
give you something resembling a female figure. </span></b><b><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></b></li>
<li><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Singing I'm Henry the
Eighth, I Am to yourself in a Cockney accent while standing in formation
might not keep you from passing out, but helps makes the time pass
quicker. </span></b><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></li>
<li><b><span style="font-size: medium;">In a pinch, two packs of the earplugs issued on Space A
flights can be fashioned into a temporary cork for a half-consumed
bottle of champagne. </span></b><b><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></b></li>
<li><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Birth Control Glasses are not an effective means
of contraception. </span></b></li>
</ul>
<br />
<b><span style="font-size: medium;">Those might seem like ridiculous lessons, but it's
really about finding the humor in any situation. </span></b><b><span style="font-size: medium;"> Having a sense of humor has been
vitally important in my writing career - to keep me buoyed during the
difficult times and to help me savor the good times...<a href="http://Having a sense of humor has been vitally important in my writing career - to keep me buoyed during the difficult times and to help me savor the good times. " target="_blank"> CLICK HERE TO READ MORE</a></span></b><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RN6ryijNj_c/VUOPC2NWPMI/AAAAAAAAD08/FDyS4Ezv-xM/s1600/1609728_10152959296896807_4797829295211004666_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RN6ryijNj_c/VUOPC2NWPMI/AAAAAAAAD08/FDyS4Ezv-xM/s1600/1609728_10152959296896807_4797829295211004666_n.jpg" height="264" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A<b>irman Leah Marie Sergent, Zaragoza, Spain </b></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b> </b></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b> </b></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr>
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</span></b>Leah Marie Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05432159961271108072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5643689677312985511.post-88956792686201511952014-12-05T06:50:00.001-08:002015-04-06T12:14:25.890-07:00Attitude of Gratitude<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WnzRiCK0ABY/VIG-mAw390I/AAAAAAAADsw/BxJSF1YfUNA/s1600/oversat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WnzRiCK0ABY/VIG-mAw390I/AAAAAAAADsw/BxJSF1YfUNA/s1600/oversat.jpg" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grayton Beach on a gloomy, foggy late Fall day.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #e69138; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Once again, the winds of Fate</span> have carried me from one town to another. This time, the vertiginous journey took me from Kansas City, Missouri to Santa Rosa Beach, Florida. A new town, a new home, a new start...again. I don't know how long Fate will allow us to settle in this sunny pocket of the world before snatching us back up and carrying us somewhere new, so I am determined to make the most of my time here on the Emerald Coast. To that end, I decided to approach these changes with an Attitude of Gratitude.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Part of my Attitude of Gratitude Plan includes taking daily beach walks to marvel at the ocean, to breathe, to just be. Since photography is one of my passions, I also decided to take one beach shot per day and post them on Instagram and Facebook. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Someone recently said to me, "I am so envious. You have the perfect life. I wish I could travel, live near the beach, and get a book deal."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My response?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span>
<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><i>Envy is a corrosive emotion that eats away at your ability to be happy - happy with your blessings & happy for the blessings of others.</i></b> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I know this, because a few years ago, I envied a dear friend's publishing career. Although I worked har<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;">d to conceal my envy from her, it was there, below the surface, corroding my contentment, my ability to focus on my own career, and my genuine happiness for her success. Now, I see how incredibly difficult it is to manage a writing career and life demands. Her life wasn't perfect, she worked hard to maintain her blessings and CHOSE to focus on the positives more than the negatives.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vOYSLiiyZzM/VIG-nIhotKI/AAAAAAAADs4/9A1xCGVcRcE/s1600/11-25b.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vOYSLiiyZzM/VIG-nIhotKI/AAAAAAAADs4/9A1xCGVcRcE/s1600/11-25b.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 6px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My life isn't perfect, but I am blessed. I <b><span style="color: #e69138;">CHOOSE </span></b>to focus on and project my deep gratitude over my blessings. I post daily beach walk photos as a way to express my <b><span style="color: #e69138;">JOY </span></b>and <span style="color: #e69138;"><b>GRATITUDE</b></span>, not to make others envious.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 6px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 6px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On the outside, I am a woman with many blessings, but the internal mechanisms to maintain these blessings are crazy complex. I have my trials - Lord knows, I have serious, sometimes crippling, trials - but I prefer to focus on and <b><span style="color: #e69138;">SHARE</span></b> my joy. Just because I don't share my trials or negative thoughts, doesn't mean I don't have them. I keep them to myself because I believe inflicting others with your negativity is as offensive as inflicting them with body odor or bad breath. It's just rude.</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 6px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I hope you all have a blessed day. Now, what are you going to do today to bring yourselves some joy and/or spread joy to others? Post it on Facebook or in the comments below. Let's focus on our blessings and spread the <b><span style="color: #e69138;">HAPPY</span></b>. </span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vDIuxwmmZ9I/VIG_DC6LlsI/AAAAAAAADtY/s9BFswQv9SI/s1600/12-03e.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vDIuxwmmZ9I/VIG_DC6LlsI/AAAAAAAADtY/s9BFswQv9SI/s1600/12-03e.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I love to watch waves roll onto the shore. I could sit all day,<br />
photographing the subtle play of light and the<br />
magnificence of motion.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AhOiu-38GIM/VIG-_k-HmpI/AAAAAAAADtQ/AFvY0pAEVuA/s1600/12-03b.jpg" height="240" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wave watching with my furry soul mate, Molly the Schnoodle.</td></tr>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AhOiu-38GIM/VIG-_k-HmpI/AAAAAAAADtQ/AFvY0pAEVuA/s1600/12-03b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Hz2uUovz4mg/VIG-8of5nVI/AAAAAAAADtI/OV6ukHp6f5s/s1600/kayaks2.jpg" height="320" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="212" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beached kayaks waiting for summer.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CqImhFL44QY/VIG_GS5e1mI/AAAAAAAADtg/VwT7Owiev7c/s1600/chairs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CqImhFL44QY/VIG_GS5e1mI/AAAAAAAADtg/VwT7Owiev7c/s1600/chairs.jpg" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Empty beach chairs on Redfish Beach on a late fall day.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ALxgojJmWOE/VIHFJ2E9AtI/AAAAAAAADt4/kHvZtSKwQTg/s1600/white%2Bwashed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ALxgojJmWOE/VIHFJ2E9AtI/AAAAAAAADt4/kHvZtSKwQTg/s1600/white%2Bwashed.jpg" height="313" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rolling waves at the beach at Watercolor.</td></tr>
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<br />Leah Marie Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05432159961271108072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5643689677312985511.post-39490316148648878392014-04-26T14:50:00.000-07:002014-05-13T14:49:35.064-07:00I Have a Cottage in Ireland<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-V0BJlCPFZPg/U11swxMCyzI/AAAAAAAADkM/JaFANs8o3R0/s1600/blue+sea.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-V0BJlCPFZPg/U11swxMCyzI/AAAAAAAADkM/JaFANs8o3R0/s1600/blue+sea.jpg" height="212" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><strong>My wanderings have taken me from Toledo to Tokyo, Pittsburgh to Paris, Vacaville to Vienna, Charleston to Cologne. I have marveled at the wonders of the world, made my home in exotic locales, and forged bonds with people of many nations. </strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><strong>Of all my journeys, none has resonated with me as deeply as my recent trip to Ireland. I made a soul connection with the place and her people. This should probably come as no surprise to those who know me well. After all, I have an abundance of Irish DNA surging through my veins. The connection is cellular. I'm also an enthusiastic storyteller and conversationalist (a nice way of saying I have the<em> gift for gab</em>). </strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;"><strong><span style="font-size: large;">Still, I was surprised by my immediate affection for Ireland. I had only been there a few days when I began daydreaming about buying a cottage in Kenmare and opening up a bookstore/tea shop on her quaint, colorful main street. I envisioned spending my days chatting with customers about Wilde, Joyce and Yeats, and evenings in a boisterous pub listening to trad music and sipping Bulmer's. When the south winds rattled my windows, I would hunker down beneath my thatched roof and write novels. Maybe I would even write my memoir. My opening line: <em>I have a cottage in Ireland at the head of Kenmare Bay.</em> <em>(It worked for Meryl Streep in Out of Africa. "I had a farm in Africa at the foot of the Ngong Hills.")</em></span></strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;"><strong>There's usually one spectacular tour, museum, or site that attaches itself to my memory of a journey; one thing that makes a place truly unique. In Ireland, there were two things: her people and her coastline. I will write about her warm, friendly, beautiful people another time. Today, I would like to share my memories of her spectacular coasts.</strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;"><strong>Better writers than myself have tried to describe Ireland's majestic land and seascape. I'll spare you the poetic waxing and instead share some of my photographs with you. Unless otherwise stipulated, these photos were taken on the Dingle Peninsula.</strong></span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HaWGuV9PWls/U1wEbLWzbuI/AAAAAAAADiw/4LAniQuIeQ0/s1600/the+emerald+wave.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HaWGuV9PWls/U1wEbLWzbuI/AAAAAAAADiw/4LAniQuIeQ0/s1600/the+emerald+wave.jpg" height="205" width="400" /></span></a></h4>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I stood on an abandoned boat launch, watching as the sun burst through the clouds and transformed the forbidding, churning sea into a magical body of luminescent water. I could have stood there all day, watching the play of light on water and listening to the roar of the waves as they crashed to the shore.</span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-l3FllxBP-jQ/U1wEd6G3afI/AAAAAAAADi4/CO6HMxheA0o/s1600/Splash.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-l3FllxBP-jQ/U1wEd6G3afI/AAAAAAAADi4/CO6HMxheA0o/s1600/Splash.jpg" height="280" width="320" /></span></a></h4>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><strong>Ocean's Kiss</strong></span></div>
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Have you ever stood ankle deep in the surf just as a powerful wave rolls to the shore, sending sea spray all over your face? I love the way the soft spray feels on my skin, like tiny kisses from the ocean</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">. </span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5HCnm0mq5_U/U1wEhtY8o_I/AAAAAAAADjA/f6tW0Zdh_iQ/s1600/Clarity.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5HCnm0mq5_U/U1wEhtY8o_I/AAAAAAAADjA/f6tW0Zdh_iQ/s1600/Clarity.jpg" height="265" width="400" /></span></a></h4>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><strong>Clarity </strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> The modern world is such a chaotic, cloudy place. It's easy to feel lost in the commotion of life. I always find clarity - in my sense of purpose, my relationships, and my faith - when I stand by the sea and watch the awesomeness of nature.</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6aI_ZfW6DWA/U1wFCfze0bI/AAAAAAAADjQ/_xmRVaX-RJ4/s1600/rocky+sea.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6aI_ZfW6DWA/U1wFCfze0bI/AAAAAAAADjQ/_xmRVaX-RJ4/s1600/rocky+sea.jpg" height="265" width="400" /></span></a></h4>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> <strong>Ageless</strong> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The first time I heard Amy Grant sing <a href="http://youtu.be/Bon1XtAdzD0" target="_blank">El-Shaddai</a>, I was a confused teenager searching for a rock to cling to in the tumultuous sea of life. Her pure voice and lyrics brought tears to my eyes. When I stood on the Baera Peninsula in Ireland, I recalled her lyrics and felt the familiar sting of tears behind my eyes. I looked at the rolling hills, ancient stones, and ageless sea, and thought about a Power so great it could bring such a landscape into existence. I thought about the thousands of people before me who stood in the same spot, staring out at the vast world, and marveling at their insignificant role in it.</span></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Jy3IdZps85c/U1wFH9104pI/AAAAAAAADjg/f7RdHPJ0zyI/s1600/irish+coast+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Jy3IdZps85c/U1wFH9104pI/AAAAAAAADjg/f7RdHPJ0zyI/s1600/irish+coast+2.jpg" height="400" width="265" /></span></a></h4>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When I asked an Irish friend my chances of encountering a banshee, selkie, or fairy, he said, "'Tis not hard to find the mystical in Ireland. Just look for it where the land meets the sea."</span> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-q5KHrM0iMY0/U1wFRP_4iYI/AAAAAAAADjw/4kp5m2RLp44/s1600/ireland+green+coast.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-q5KHrM0iMY0/U1wFRP_4iYI/AAAAAAAADjw/4kp5m2RLp44/s1600/ireland+green+coast.jpg" height="265" width="400" /></span></a></h4>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The former Taoiseach of Ireland, Charles Haughey said, "Ireland is where strange tales begin and happy endings are possible." Watching this emerald wave rolling toward the ocher hills, I imagined many strange and wonderful tales. Tales of selkies swimming by day and then slipping out of their skins to shape shift into slender, beautiful humans by night. A shift of the light and I imagined their sleek heads bobbing in the waves. A gust of wind that howled and echoed in the caverns and I thought I heard their mournful cries. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As for happy endings, I got mine the morning I met actor Colin Farrell in a little town called Sneem. I am working on a novel, aptly titled, Finding Colin Farrell, so my serendipitous encounter with him in a hotel lobby could certainly be considered the happy ending to my magical Irish adventure.</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TvO59F_0q3k/U1wFanu7meI/AAAAAAAADj4/ee5QaL3b7_M/s1600/me+at+the+ocean.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TvO59F_0q3k/U1wFanu7meI/AAAAAAAADj4/ee5QaL3b7_M/s1600/me+at+the+ocean.jpg" height="265" width="400" /></span></a></h4>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><strong>Rooted</strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I stood on the edge of the cliff while the wind tried to body check me into the sea. Any normal person would have felt a healthy dose of trepidation, but I felt strangely calm, content. My Wellies were firmly rooted on the land of my ancestors but my heart was soaring far above the emerald waves. After years of wandering, I was finally home. Photo taken on the Baera Peninsula, Ireland.</span></div>
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Leah Marie Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05432159961271108072noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5643689677312985511.post-59484348909323159022014-03-17T06:31:00.000-07:002014-04-29T12:49:12.998-07:00Look for the Dragonfly Moments<div class="separator" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jP_6K7u5RoM/UeVUxtebctI/AAAAAAAADdo/uThz2-qDTbI/s1600/perfect+moment2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"></span></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jP_6K7u5RoM/UeVUxtebctI/AAAAAAAADdo/uThz2-qDTbI/s320/perfect+moment2.jpg" height="320" width="212" /></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><strong>I confess, I am a travel harlot.</strong><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><strong> </strong> </span>Each time I journey to a new locale, I
capriciously give my affections away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
doesn't matter if I am traipsing over the wild Yorkshire Moors, sipping
lemoncello by the sea in Portofino, listening to the wind rattle
through a bamboo forest in Arishiyama, or devouring Tex-Mex beside a trailer
in Austin, I fall in love as easily as a tweenie-bopper at a Justin Bieber
concert.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No matter the adventure (or,
misadventure as is often the case), I always find something to adore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That one thing that becomes, for me, synonymous
with the place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It might be a restaurant, park or museum.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometimes, it's just
one moment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One perfect, vivid travel
moment painted upon the canvas of my mind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>A masterpiece to be privately admired over and over again. </span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I call it "looking for my dragonfly moment."<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;"><strong>I coined the phrase several years ago, after a series of unfortunate events lead me to South Korea.</strong> I stepped off the plane and into a fetid cloud. The air in Songtan as thick and putrid as the inside of a kimchi pot. A cacophony of thundering jets, screeching automobiles, and miserable humanity assaulted my ears.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;">I went to bed that first night feeling irritable and negative. All of my senses were engaged in hating my surroundings. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;">I woke late the next morning, still gritty-eyed and groggy from the disorienting sixteen hour flight, to find the fog and my malaise had not lifted. My first thought was, "I hate Korea."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;">I'd had my feet on the ground for less than twenty-four hours yet my mental compass was determinedly fixed to "HATE."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;">I decided to go in search of sustenance. My first step kept me headed in the direction of loathing. Outside my apartment, I stepped on a slimy green patch of concrete that nearly sent me head over Converse. <em>(I would learn that the sewers in the area were too shallow to accommodate the waste and frequently backed up, belching offal that would ferment on the sidewalks).</em></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;">Keeping my Converses cruising, I navigated around the slick spots, peering through the fog, until I came to a small park. Ahead stood a most unusual tree. With branches laden with short pine needles growing in tufts and blue pine cones, it looked like something Dr. Seuss would draw - if he had been chosen to illustrate Mulan. Exotic. Beautiful.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;">I was standing alone in the park, staring up at the oddly Asian tree, when a single dragonfly appeared in front of my face, fluttering its diaphanous wings with an almost undetectable whir. It hovered there, staring at me staring at the tree. Then, a swarm of dragonflies descended, flying around me as if characters in an animated film, sent to cheer the hapless Princess. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;">I listened to the whir of their wings and something miraculous happened. I felt my compass begin to turn away from hate. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;">I would never truly appreciate Korea, but that single moment - that dragonfly moment - became a symbol for me. It was a perfect travel moment - a brief, fluttering moment of beauty and acceptance. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;"><strong>"Look for the dragonflies" has become my mantra.</strong> No matter where Fate tosses me, I know there will be at least one memory I will take with me to love, to cherish. In South Korea, it was the dragonflies fluttering on a foggy morning. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;">Sometimes, I am fortunate and Fate tosses me somewhere splendid, somewhere with loads of backdrops for perfect travel moments. A place filled with temptations that have me falling in love again and again.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;">A place like Edinburgh.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;"><strong>It was my second trip to Scotland but my first to Edinburgh.</strong> I landed during a torrential downpour. The airlines "displaced" my luggage <em>(Cheers, British Airways!).</em> The taxi got a flat tire. My expensive hotel room was located between the stairwell and the lift and, inexplicably, smelled like my grandpa's house on Saturdays <em>(Gramps, a retired cop, hosted beer, brats, and sauerkraut feasts for his German and Irish cop buddies every week. Fifteen men in a Depression-era bungalow sauced up on kraut and brews makes for one odoriferous environment. Just sayin'.)</em>.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;">Not an auspicious beginning to my Grand Highland Adventure.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;">For three days, I was forced to survive on what I had carried with me on the airplane. I felt like Bear Grylls only without the sexy scowl and savvy survival skills. <em>(I tried to fashion an Armani-esque pantsuit out of the pinstriped down comforter but the feathers kept sticking to my fingers. Besides, not even Bear with his mad skills could have salvaged enough thread out of the Hilton's complimentary sewing kit to construct a couture ensemble.)</em></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I abandoned the butchered comforter. Surrounded by a swirl of goose feathers, I ventured beyond the confines of my over-priced hotel to go in search of my dragonfly moment.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-w6CyDDjIAoQ/UeVtPr09elI/AAAAAAAADd0/CHHbP9d4gM4/s1600/Edinburgh+Harbor+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-w6CyDDjIAoQ/UeVtPr09elI/AAAAAAAADd0/CHHbP9d4gM4/s320/Edinburgh+Harbor+1.jpg" height="212" style="cursor: move;" unselectable="on" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><strong>From the Battlements</strong><br />
<strong>by Leah Marie Brown</strong><br />
The buildings of Edinburgh's New Town stand like<br />
soldiers in a straight line.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I started at </span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Edinburgh Castle</span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">, where I
learned a wee bit about the fierce battles and political rivalries that scar Scotland's brawny countenance. </span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">After the tour, I stood on the battlements and admired the city below. The rain had stopped. The sun had returned triumphantly, like Lady Godiva in all her splendid golden glory. In the distance, the Bay spread out like a shimmering blue cloak. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I descended the battlements and began my walk back toward Deacon Brodie's, a colorful pub I had spied in the heart of Old Town. I was walking down High Street when I encountered a cluster of tourists watching a street performer. Dressed as William Wallace, he was swinging a sword through the air while delivering a rousing speech about the need for his countrymen "to stand in defiance of tyranny." </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I am not usually one for blatant, cheesy tourist attractions, but something about this performer's impassioned delivery captured my interest, so I remained with the throng of giggling, tennis shoe-wearing tourists. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I watched as a woman walking a West Highland Terrier struggled to keep hold of her lunging animal. The terrier broke free from its master's hold and charged up to the street thespian, tail stiff, growl rumbling deep in its furry belly. Undaunted. Terrifying in his dogged determination (pardon the pun). </span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-97WhbxFSMK4/UeVOHRNBLjI/AAAAAAAADc8/Y6eAeEeGyik/s1600/Edinurgh+Pup.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-97WhbxFSMK4/UeVOHRNBLjI/AAAAAAAADc8/Y6eAeEeGyik/s320/Edinurgh+Pup.jpg" height="212" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;">Without missing a breath, the thespian lowered his sword and said, <em>"Be gone with ye, ye wee mangy beast, or I'll gut ye as sure as I did the English."</em></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;">The dog's embarrassed owner seized the leash and tried to pull her barking canine away but the Westie had dug in and was determined to see his battle through.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;">The blue-faced thespian made a few more quips. The crowd laughed and tossed coins into his bucket. The thespian dropped to his knee and continued to beseech his countrymen to fight the snarling tyrants. The metallic cling of coins dropping into the bucket confirmed what was already obvious - several of the tourists (especially those in the young, female demographic) were lapping this scene up. Some were pleased by the impromptu entertainment, while others were falling in "love" with the William Wallace-wannabe.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KraTV7X-WkY/UeV7KgwafsI/AAAAAAAADeE/jm1IQ5sYyM0/s1600/Edinburgh+Pup+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KraTV7X-WkY/UeV7KgwafsI/AAAAAAAADeE/jm1IQ5sYyM0/s320/Edinburgh+Pup+2.jpg" height="226" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><strong>Braveheart and the Wee Beast</strong> <br />
by Leah Marie Brown<br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;">I didn't realize it then, but I was falling in love, too. Not with the man in the kilt, but the dog on the leash.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;">For me, the brave little Westie became my first Scottish love. Like a kid on a cross-country trip shouting out "slug bug" every time she sees a Volkswagen Beetle, I would search for the squat little dogs and squeal with glee each time I found one. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;">I saw an elderly couple strolling through a park in the Victorian town of Strathpeffer, leading a pack ambling Westies. <em>(Cue squeal!) </em></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;">In Plockton, a picturesque fishing village on the shores of Loch Carron, I saw a precious Westie pup wearing a yellow rain slicker sitting in a rowboat. <em>(Cue double squeal!)</em> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;">The few times I did turn the tele on, I saw the <a href="http://youtu.be/yu9sWjnJFHU" target="_blank"><strong>same dog food commercial</strong></a> featuring a freakishly sympathetic </span><span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;">Westie following its master on errands, including a visit to a cemetery to leave flowers on his dead wife's grave. <em>(Cue sad awww!)</em></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;">There are many things to love about Scotland: her verdant paps that appear to be blanketed in a quilt of golden gorse and purple heather, her finger-licking good crispy fish and chips, her potent Drambuie, her fascinating history peppered with fiercely loyal and courageous characters, and her warm, welcoming people.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;">Any one of Scotland's appealing features can charm a tourist into yielding their heart. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;">I enjoyed hiking her paps, eating her delicacies, sipping her liqueur, learning her history, but her scruffy little canines stole my heart and gave me some of my most treasured dragonfly moments. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;">That's the amazing thing about travel, though, isn't it? No matter where you find yourself - a thatched hut in Honduras, a farmer's market in Omaha, a blueberry eating contest in Anchorage - if you take the time to look, you'll find something remarkable.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><strong>On Guard</strong><br />
by Leah Marie Brown<br />
I fell in love with this little Westie, who stood<br />
guard at Cawdor Castle, a beautiful estate <br />
high in the Highlands. I couldn't resist dropping to the ground<br />
and snapping his picture. Though, I did wonder what the Laird of<br />
Cawdor thought when he looked out his window and saw<br />
a crazy American sprawled on his lawn, cooing at his dog.</td></tr>
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<br />Leah Marie Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05432159961271108072noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5643689677312985511.post-78285984972630824372013-09-20T19:55:00.000-07:002014-04-29T12:51:58.655-07:00Below the Surface<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Hwi98E4suJI/Uj0FvVTN8eI/AAAAAAAADes/hiJWmd8LIdA/s1600/marilyn+monroe+glasses.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Hwi98E4suJI/Uj0FvVTN8eI/AAAAAAAADes/hiJWmd8LIdA/s320/marilyn+monroe+glasses.jpg" height="320" width="235" /></a></div>
<span id="yui_3_7_2_1_1379681468550_1972" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Knowing of my love for <span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1379681467_0">Marilyn Monroe</span>, a friend sent me a book of Marilyn's recently discovered poetry and journal entries. I took the book to my screened-in porch, curled up on my chaise, and lost myself in Marilyn's candid, touching musings, the cicadas providing a rhythmic, soothing backtrack. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I was struck by Marilyn's intellect, courage, self-depreciating humor, and deeply probing questions. I found her to be a talented poetess and a philosopher. I've always intuitively sensed there was more to her than big boobs and a big smile. Yet, so many times I have focused on her external, rather than her internal beauty. It's an easy trap to fall into - looking only at the surface, failing to probe a bit deeper. How many times do we make rash judgements about someone - a surly cashier, a seemingly "perfect" parent, an unfriendly neighbor? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><strong>Dumb Blonde Jokes</strong></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I have been unfairly judged because of my looks and personality. I am a bubbly, petite blonde who likes to talk...a lot. I am also an anxiety-riddled perfectionist. People look at my appearance and assume I am a dumb blonde, that I must have been raised by wealthy parents who pampered and coddled me. They look around my clean, orderly home and assume I have it all together, that I am another "Martha Stewart". They watch me greet friends and strangers with equal ease and assume I am outgoing and utterly confident. They don't know I had a difficult childhood, that I am educated and extremely well read, that my jet-powered speech is fuelled by a deep anxiety that people won't like me unless I connect with them in a relatable way/entertain them with my stories/keep the awkward silences at bay.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Once, I went on a date to a barbecue hosted by an Air Force pilot (my date was also a pilot). After the introductions were made, greetings exchanged, backs slapped, and beer distributed, the wives and girlfriends formed a chatty circle, while the men clustered together to talk shop. I chatted with the ladies and then joined my date. I wanted to put faces with names and get to know the men who accompanied him on missions.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">As is often the case with military men and women, the talk centered on the mission. The tricky approach into Guantanamo Bay. Upcoming deployments. Recent promotions. Which loadmasters were the most skilled/inept/annoying. Tired after a long, challenging day at work and a bit lost in the flying jargon <em>("He's getting ready to go on a SID..." "Blah blah blah microburst...." "...updated the pubs..." "...visual flight rules..." "flaps...trim...elevator...pitch...</em>"). Honestly, their talk began to sound a bit like the adults in the Charlie Brown cartoons. <strong><em>Mwa Mwa Mwa Mwwwwaaa Mwa</em></strong>.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Maybe my eyes glassed over. Maybe I yawned. I don't know what inadvertent signal I sent out that I was beyond bored with the one-track conversation, but suddenly one of the pilots turned to me and said,<em><strong>"</strong></em><em><strong>I am sorry. Are we boring you? We can talk about something you would understand."</strong></em> Then, affecting a condescending, Valley Girl patois, he said, <strong><em>"Like, ohmygod, did you hear about the totally awesome sale at Nordies?"</em></strong></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">My quick, witty retort drew appreciative chuckles but the patronizing _______(fill in the blank) looked like an Alaskan salmon leaping out of the water only to discover the open mouth of a grizzly ahead. His mouth kept opening and closing as he struggled to find the words that would extricate him from the situation. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Later, I learned that Lieutenant Salmon and I had grown up in the same city. How unfortunate that his erroneous, snap judgement precluded us from connecting in a meaningful way. His loss, not mine.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><strong>Vitametavegimin</strong></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I sit here, now, thinking about the way our prejudices and superficial assessments preclude us from connecting, achieving, relating, expanding. When we judge people solely on the basis of their exterior or our prejudices, when we offer platitudes in favor of thoughtful responses, we miss the opportunity to expand and connect in a meaningful way. It's like traveling to a famous museum but never walking through the front door, never looking at the artwork inside.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I recently read a biography of Lucille Ball and was surprised to learn that she had been in Hollywood for over twenty years and starred in dozens of films, before she was presented with the opportunity to showcase her comedic talents. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Lucille Ball started out as a model, a walking mannequin, for several New York dress designers. </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Studio chiefs and directors learned of her earlier career and quickly typecast her. They saw her as a chorus girl, a pretty secondary character, set dressing. For years, she was only offered bit parts in B-movies (She eventually earned the moniker, "Queen of the Bs"). </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">A few Hollywood types looked beyond Lucy's porcelain skin, wide blue eyes, and long dancer's legs. The brilliant, beautiful comedic actress Carole Lombard believed in Lucy's talents, as did the Marx Brothers and several other well-known comedians. Lucy fought against type - raged against the typecasting - but it was only when she put up her own money to help fund the sitcom I Love Lucy, and form Desilu Productions, that her comedic talents were given free rein.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;">Today, most people associate Lucille Ball with the character she played in <em>I Love Lucy</em>, a zany redhead who uttered <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Vitametavegimin, smuggled a round of cheese out of Italy, and stuffed chocolates in her mouth while working at a candy factory. </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;">Few know that she started out as a model and a somber B-movie actress. Lucille Ball was the first woman to run a major television studio. She was nominated for thirteen Emmy Awards for her comedic performances. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;">I can't help but wonder how many more television shows and movies Lucille Ball could have starred in - how many more people should could have entertained with her unique comedic style - if only movie executives would have taken the time to look beyond her exterior. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;"><strong>To Like or Comment, That Is The Question</strong></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;">I have often wondered if Facebook is making us more superficial and narcisstic. We share our likes, aversions, daily irritations, inner-monologues, photos, annecdotes - an endless flow of personal information - all in an effort to connect, relate, maintain. (Believe me, I am guilty of letting it flow.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;"><em>Does Facebook bring us closer together or is it merely giving us a false sense of connectivity?</em></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;">I have noticed a trend. People seem to be reflexively clicking "like" on updates - even the sad or tragic updates. How can anyone "Like" an updated that speaks of loss, illness, depression, or hardship? Just last week, I read an update posted by an acquaintance in which she announced her brother's suicide. Sixteen people clicked like but only two took the time to compose a response. What?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;">Another friend recently posted an update about the loss of her much-beloved pet and her lingering depression. People actually clicked like or offered quick or insensitive platitudes like, "Stop being sad and focus on your pet that's still living." What? Is that what our demonstrations of support and compassion have come to - terse oneliners, or worse, no lines at all? After suffering a loss, a friend wrote,"I feel like dying..." And someone actually clicked like. Clicking like to an update like that is akin to saying, "I am glad you feel miserable...I like that you're suicidal."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;">Connected or feigned closeness?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;">I spent an hour today scrolling through my updates for the last few years and do you know what I discovered? My most "popular" updates - those that received the most responses - were the ones about inane topics like:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #6fa8dc;"><strong>"What's your favorite 80s song?"</strong></span> </span><br />
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<span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;"><strong>"If you were planning the ultimate dinner party, which six people from history or pop culture would you invite?"</strong></span><br />
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<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #6fa8dc;"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Damn Teavana and their aggressive tea pimps! Went in for a quickie - one cup of tea and four ounces of tea leaves - and walked out an hour later with SIXTEEN ounces of tea. Bonjour! My name is Leah Marie and I am, in fact, a tea </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">WHORE!"</span></strong></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;">The ones that got the least responses were ones in which I asked deeper, more ponderous questions or the ones in which I posted a link to my writing (I receive, on average, 6,000 page hits per month. Apparently, not all of my friends are included in the demographic of <em>On Life, Love and Accidental Adventures</em> readers...or they just find my blatant self promotion annoying...or they visited my blog, read my piece, and found it unworthy of comment.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;">I can hardly blame them. What with Pinterest pins, Twitter tweets, Facebook updates, Amazon Wish Lists, and Instagram photos to upload, who has the time to dedicate 2 to 7 minutes (depending on your reading speed) to read one of my blog posts? I barely have time to write them!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;">The thing is, writing has been my profession and passion for as long as I can remember. As any artist knows, sharing your creation is like giving birth to a child. You conceive an idea, let it gestate, nurture it, and eventually you share it with the world (internally wincing in anticipation of the critics who will survey your "baby" and find it wanting.) Our creations - our art - is an extension of ourselves. It takes a lot of courage and generousity to share oneself so openly. I would rather people appreciate my creations more than my inane/entertaining/silly musings and inquiries. Does that make me needy, demanding, too sensitive, overly-analytical? Perhaps.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;">Suddenly I feel as if I am lost in a tangled tangent...but no, it all connects. If we only look at the surface, connect in superficial rather than meaningful ways, we visit the museum without appreciating the art.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;">I am resolved to slow the flow of information I share, to reduce my inane musings, to never click like or offer a thoughtless platitude in response to a friend's omission of suffering, to connect in deeper, more meaningful ways with the people who truly matter. I resolve to appreciate the art inside the museum more than the facade of the building.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;"><span style="color: #ffd966;"><strong>A personal note to my friends:</strong> This blog post is not meant to shame you into responding to all of my updates or read all of my blog posts. This is less about guilting and more about growing. I realize we all lead busy lives and are often unable to connect as frequently or deeply as we would like. I don't expect you to comment on all of my thoughts - or even half of them. All I ask is that you don't click "Like" when I post an update about the death of my pet, a brutal rejection letter from an editor, or a photo of a tragically awful new hairdo (I know. I know. My decision to temporarily go copper penny red was a fashion misstep of EPIC proportions, but if I make a similar misstep in the future, please don't click like.) I treasure each of you and appreciate the time we spend "together." ~Leah</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />Leah Marie Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05432159961271108072noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5643689677312985511.post-15039737479982102412013-06-11T11:45:00.000-07:002013-06-11T12:23:00.672-07:00Serendipitous Traveler: Cinque Terre Lovers Lane<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><strong>Turquoise Sea</strong><br />
<strong>by Leah Marie Brown</strong></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><strong>Imagine if you will, a footpath carved into the side of a granite cliff overlooking a turquoise sea.</strong> Now, situate this idyllic thoroughfare on the Italian Coast. Picture yourself standing on the path. Do you feel the sea breezes blowing seductively on your skin? Can you hear the surf gently lapping the rocky shore far below? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">If you knew such a trail existed, wouldn't you want to traverse it?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">When I read about a trail in Italy that stretches between the clifftop villages of </span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Riomaggiore and Manarola, I felt my pulse quicken, my imagination take flight. The guidebook said the Italians have been calling the trail Via </span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">dell'Amore (Lovers Lane) since the 1940s. Sigh.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I imagined it to be a place for romance and daydreams. I saw myself strolling down that magical path, pausing to admire the Mediterranean sea, a patchwork of cerulean and turquoise spread out as far as the eye could see. Perhaps I would encounter lovers locked in a tender embrace, or a handsome young man on bended knee begging for his lady's hand in matrimony. More sighs.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;"><strong>As any seasoned, serendipitous traveler knows, guidebooks often exaggerate.</strong> Authors usually gild a scene with far more charm than actually exists. I am an author and I have been guilty of dabbing a tad more golden varnish on a travel piece occasionally. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I soon discovered that the author who wrote about the Via dell'Amore didn't dab a little gilding on his piece, he washed it in a freaking bucket of gold paint. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TcsJCyYJIb4/UbdOvhcDc4I/AAAAAAAADbU/yZXoJs1hdrU/s1600/boat+float.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TcsJCyYJIb4/UbdOvhcDc4I/AAAAAAAADbU/yZXoJs1hdrU/s320/boat+float.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><strong>Stormy Seas</strong><br />
<strong>by Leah Marie Brown</strong></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"><strong>Stephanie and I arrived at Via dell'Amore after a brisk, choppy ferry ride from Levanto to Riomaggiore.</strong> Clouds as thick as gray flannel had rolled across the horizon the night before, enveloping the verdant sloping fields in their dreary downiness. The threat of a late summer storm hung heavy in the air. Intrepid as always, we refused to allow something as trifling as bad weather to dampen our spirits. After all, we were far from home and the middling, monotony of our separate daily lives. We were best friends embarking on another adventure. Mistresses of our Fates. Relentless taskmasters determined to drive Destiny. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Stephanie and I successfully maneuvered the swaying gangplank and found ourselves in lively Riomaggiore, the easternmost hillside town and the start of the Lovers Lane. We followed a series of </span><span style="font-family: Verdana;">signs, climbing precariously until we were mingling with clouds. The clouds parted, a shaft of sunlight spilled down from the heavens and divinely illuminated the Via dell'Amore. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Anticipation pumping through my romantic veins, my Nikon poised and ready for documenting fleeting moments of <em>amore</em>, I followed the steady stream of tourists making their way toward the entrance. I was so lost in my idyllic haze I didn't immediately notice the hostile looks some of the other tourists were giving us.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><em><span class="hps">"Ferma!</span> <span class="hps">Ferma!</span> <span class="hps">Non hai pagato</span>! <span class="hps">Pagare</span>!"</em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I heard the ticket mistress's angry flow of Italian jibberish before I saw her. Apparently, when Stephanie and I plunged into the heavy flow of tourists, we had unwittingly joined a tour group. We were following them down Lovers Lane without having paid the required entrance fee.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Innocent but humiliated, we disengaged from the group and made our way back to the ticket booth. A pinch-faced woman sat perched on a stool, her beak-like nose thrust forward as if to sniff out thieves. I felt myself flushing in mortification, and yet, I could not avert my gaze from her bangs. She had teased and sprayed them to form a fan over her forehead, like a cockatoo.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"><em>"You did not pay! You are not part of that group, so you must pay the individual ticket price like everyone else,"</em> she clucked, her gravity-defying bangs quivering. <em>"You Americans are so entitled, so evil. You do not belong on Lovers Lane. We should toss you into the ocean where you will die a horrible, watery death!"</em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Okay, she might not have spoken that last part (see above paragraph regarding author's gilding), but she was <em><strong>definitely</strong></em> thinking it. Her eyes were telling us what her lips were not. She was definitely shooting us some bad joo-joo looks.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"><em>"Seven Euros,"</em> Miss Cockatoo chirped.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Seven Euros seemed like a steep price to charge for a brief cliff side stroll, but mortification propelled me to hurriedly pay it and move on.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">We stepped through the archway out of the ticket booth and onto <em>Via dell'Amore</em>, Lovers Lane. I don't know what I expected - maybe a mustachioed man cueing an orchestra of violins, a flock of doves fluttering above our heads, the heady scent of roses staining the air. Regular readers of this blog know that my imagination is frequently diametrically opposed to reality (see <a href="http://leahmariebrown.blogspot.com/2009/01/how-not-to-visit-uk.html" target="_blank"><strong>How Not To Visit the UK</strong></a>). </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">How to describe the melange of aromas? A breeze spiced with sea salt? Yes, but it carried with it the acrid scent of vomit commingled with urine. Eau de Romance.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Struggling to quell the wave of nausea rising in my throat <em>(I instinctively feel the need to vomit whenever I smell someone else's vomit)</em>, I blinked in the watery sunlight and tried to make sense of the scene before me. There were no mutually absorbed lovers strolling down a serpentine path, no bougainvillea covered tunnels perfect for romantic encounters. What I saw before me was not the perfect backdrop for romantic liaisons, but an over-hyped tourist trapped scarred by graffiti.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_yxj_0wwIBw/Ubdk_qal6aI/AAAAAAAADbo/nmcJDPOSLik/s1600/Lovers+Walk+Graffiti+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_yxj_0wwIBw/Ubdk_qal6aI/AAAAAAAADbo/nmcJDPOSLik/s320/Lovers+Walk+Graffiti+1.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><strong>Graffiti dell'Amore</strong><br />
by Leah Marie Brown<br />
Exploding hearts defile a tunnel wall<br />
along the Via dell'Amore in <br />
Cinque Terre, Italy.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gd7No03krhk/UbdlAfaoonI/AAAAAAAADbw/uDW2YjDA64U/s1600/Lovers+Walk+Graffiti+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gd7No03krhk/UbdlAfaoonI/AAAAAAAADbw/uDW2YjDA64U/s320/Lovers+Walk+Graffiti+2.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><strong>Modern Romance</strong><br />
by Leah Marie Brown<br />
Forget sonnets recited from a Juliet balcony. <br />
In Italy, true affection is displayed in one<br />
way: street art. Graffiti: when you care enough<br />
to give the very best. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JT0LP0AT56M/UbdlF4NzsCI/AAAAAAAADb0/uqLY5OTCybk/s1600/griffiti+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JT0LP0AT56M/UbdlF4NzsCI/AAAAAAAADb0/uqLY5OTCybk/s320/griffiti+3.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><strong>David, It's Not</strong><br />
by Leah Marie Brown<br />
Graffiti scars a tunnel wall in the <br />
Via dell'Amore in romantic<br />
Cinque Terre, Italy. One wonders<br />
what Michelangelo would have to<br />
say about this crude male form.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I paused for a moment and looked out at the Mediterranean, beautiful even on this disappointing, stormy day. The sea appeared a rough cut of turquoise, the wind creating jagged blue-green stalagmites. I stared at the sea and listened to its angry surf until the horror of Lovers Lane seemed to fade away. I felt the rhythm of my heart slow. I felt a light spray of sea mist over my face. I felt something sharp cut into the back of my ankle.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"><strong><em>Whatthef-?</em></strong></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">An elderly tourist had driven her wheeled walker into me and kept on shuffling down Lovers Lane. <em>What? That blood trickling from my ankle onto the pavement? It's nothing. Just keep on rolling, Granny, I wouldn't want you to miss this eighth wonder of the world, this spectacular love fest taking place all around us.</em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-l_cGq3yYhGA/UbdpBlfXH4I/AAAAAAAADcM/cja5eGppgQY/s1600/Where+is+the+romance.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-l_cGq3yYhGA/UbdpBlfXH4I/AAAAAAAADcM/cja5eGppgQY/s320/Where+is+the+romance.jpg" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><strong>Go Granny, Go</strong><br />
by Leah Marie Brown<br />
Aggressive elderly stroller<br />
making roadkill of unsuspecting<br />
tourists on Via dell'Amore<br />
in Cinque Terre, Italy.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gGcPa2qo3vg/UbdpExK7v2I/AAAAAAAADcU/JaHWsSSZIwI/s1600/music+and+granny.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gGcPa2qo3vg/UbdpExK7v2I/AAAAAAAADcU/JaHWsSSZIwI/s320/music+and+granny.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><strong>That's Amore</strong><br />
by Leah Marie Brown<br />
I've always said, if you are going to <br />
get impaled by an elderly woman's<br />
walker, the best place to do it is in<br />
Italy, especially with accordion <br />
music playing as a backtrack.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"><strong>Hobbling on, I stared at the urine stained path, the graffiti covered tunnel walls, the scarred flora and fauna, and tried to make sense of it all.</strong> How could such a grubby, olfactory offensive spot rate as one of Italy's most romantic walks? <em>Italy</em>? The land of Romeo and Juliet. The home of a million hot blooded Roman lovers.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qlUs-u1mvF8/Ubdq3IhUkAI/AAAAAAAADco/IZkOp03CcJU/s1600/graffiti+cacti.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qlUs-u1mvF8/Ubdq3IhUkAI/AAAAAAAADco/IZkOp03CcJU/s320/graffiti+cacti.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><strong>What a prick</strong>!<br />
by Leah Marie Brown<br />
Silvia: "I thought Steve was going to <br />
give me an engagement ring but<br />
he didn't! Insteas, he took me to Via dell'Amore<br />
in Cinque Terre, Italy and <br />
pointed to some stupid cactus he'd<br />
carved our names onto."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zOTXnpNoLjM/Ubdq9JpaVJI/AAAAAAAADcw/k5dHU82VHvM/s1600/fanny+and+the+graffiti.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zOTXnpNoLjM/Ubdq9JpaVJI/AAAAAAAADcw/k5dHU82VHvM/s320/fanny+and+the+graffiti.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><strong>Word!</strong><br />
by Leah Marie Brown<br />
Only my best friend, Stephanie, could strike a<br />
pose and actually make graffiti look cool.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I kept craning my neck, anxious to behold that one picturesque site that would make my less than romantic stroll down Lovers Lane worth the expense. You might be thinking, "<strong><em>Seriously Leah Marie, seven Euros is hardly a fortune!"</em></strong> </span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">To that I would say, <em><strong>"True, but that same seven Euros could have bought me a delicious slice of hot, cheesy Foccacia Formaggia and a single scoop of sour cherry gelato. Just sayin'."</strong></em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Finally, we reached the end our stroll. Was I rewarded with my panoramic view, my postcard perfect snapshot? Well, that depends on your point of view. If you are a junky for post modern installation art, if you appreciate irony, perhaps you would have found what was waiting for me at the end of Via dell'Amore to be a sublime juxtaposition of hope and disillusionment, of romance and reality. Here's what I saw:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1MlKfUKbmiE/UbdNdFBmFvI/AAAAAAAADbE/mV8CEPa-RUg/s1600/end+of+the+walk.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="255" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1MlKfUKbmiE/UbdNdFBmFvI/AAAAAAAADbE/mV8CEPa-RUg/s400/end+of+the+walk.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><strong>Sublime juxtaposition of Love and Disillusionment</strong><br />
<strong>by Leah Marie Brown</strong><br />
Empty booze bottles piled atop a garbage can at the end of <br />
Via dell'Amore, Cinque Terre, Italy.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><strong>Further Reading:</strong></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><strong></strong></span><br />
<ul>
<li><a href="http://www.smithsonianmag.com/specialsections/ricksteves/The-Love-Story-Behind-the-Via-dellAmore.html" target="_blank"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Article in which (the painfully square & woefully inaccurate) Rick Steves paints Via dell'Amore in a "lovey-dovey" golden</span> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">hue</span></strong></a></li>
</ul>
<br />
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.lonelyplanet.com/italy/cinque-terre/sights" target="_blank"><strong>Lonely Planet's hilarious blurb on Via dell'Amore touting it as a charming path studded with places to picnic (True if you don't mind sitting on urine-soaked cement or being run over by aggressive grannies with walkers)</strong></a></span></li>
</ul>
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><strong><a href="http://youtu.be/8s2hjVkVr18" target="_blank">Motion Sickness Inducing Video of Via dell'Amore complete with romantic accordion music (Grab your Dramamine and prepare to sigh)</a></strong></span></li>
</ul>
<strong><span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span></strong><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><strong>If you enjoyed this article, why not let me know? Everyone likes to get positive feedback, even authors with a penchant for gilding! </strong></span><a href="mailto:leahmariebrown@live.com"><span style="color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><strong>leahmariebrown@live.com</strong></span></a><span style="color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><strong> </strong></span></div>
Leah Marie Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05432159961271108072noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5643689677312985511.post-15134839404124783852013-06-06T12:49:00.000-07:002013-06-06T15:31:46.045-07:00Serendipitous Traveler: The Light of Florence<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I found myself in the heart of Florence, walking down an ancient, dimly lit pedestrian street just moments before the magical gloaming, when the sinking sun would bathe the city in liquidy shades of gold, bronze and copper. <em>(Apropos colors, when one remembers that Florence was once the financial center of Europe.)</em></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Florence is a magical city in any light, but during the gloaming it appears more beautiful and more mysterious. Shadows deepen, elongate, shading the city in slightly sinister tones. The air appears as gauzy as a shroud. Streetlights flicker to life, creating otherworldly halos around the heads of the statues standing sentry in the piazzas.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;">It takes little effort to imagine a Medici woman, ensconced in a voluminous cloak, her face partially concealed by her hood, slipping down an alley to meet an old crone hawking deadly nightshade. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;">What secrets do the shadows hold? What demons does the light keep at bay? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;">Visiting and resident voyeurs surely experience orgasmic delight as the darkening world affords them unhindered views into salons, shops and even private residences. I confess to playing the role of the voyeur, peeking into an apartment aglow from the light of a spectacular chandelier, wishing I could join the fabulous people dining beneath it. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;">Instead, I snapped my secret shot and moved on, slipping in and out of the shadows with the skill of a Medici or Borgia.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;">As the evening faded to black, I stood in a candlelit wine bar, savoring a tart, full-bodied Chianti, and noticing the way the ruby liquid rolled in my glass.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: Verdana;"><strong>Basking in the Light of Florence:</strong></span><br />
<ul><span style="color: white;">
</span>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white;">Catch some rays, sip a cappuccino, and take in a spectacular panoramic view of Florence atop the </span><a href="http://www.venere.com/hotels/florence/hotel-hermitage/" target="_blank"><strong><span style="color: magenta;">Hotel Hermitage</span></strong></a><span style="color: white;"> on Vicolo Marzio. One of the hotel's friendly employees invited me to visit the rooftop even though I wasn't a guest of the hotel. "You simply must see Florence from above," she urged. "The light is spectacular." She was right. *<em>Notice the contrast between the cobalt sky and the terracotta roof tiles</em>.</span></span></li>
<span style="color: white;">
</span>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana;"><a href="http://www.italy.artviva.com/index.php?file=oneprodotti&form_id_prodotti=16&id=16" target="_blank"><strong><span style="color: magenta;">The Haunting Florence Tour</span></strong></a><span style="color: white;">, an evening walking tour offered by ArtViva, is a great way to view the architectural wonders and learn the hidden history of Florence. The tour begins shortly before the gloaming and culminates after dark. I highly recommend this tour for anyone visiting Florence, but particularly those who have an interest in history or an appreciation of light. *<em>Notice the way the transformation the city undertakes as day fades to evening.</em></span></span></li>
<span style="color: white;">
</span>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana;"><span style="color: white;">Take a cruise down the Arno River in a traditional barchetto with </span><a href="http://www.viator.com/tours/Florence/Florence-River-Cruise-on-a-Traditional-Barchetto/d519-5049ARNO?pref=02&aid=g5357" target="_blank"><strong><span style="color: magenta;">Viator's River Cruises</span></strong></a><span style="color: white;"><span style="color: magenta;">.</span> *<em>Notice the way the light shimmers off the river and highlights the brightly colored buildings</em>.</span></span></li>
<span style="color: white;">
</span>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana;"><span style="color: white;">Stroll over to Via del Campanile angolo via delle Oche and sample the creamy goodness of</span><span style="color: magenta;"> </span><a href="http://www.grom.it/eng/dettagli_gelateria.php?id_gelateria=112&città=Firenze" target="_blank"><strong><span style="color: magenta;">Grom Gelateria's</span></strong></a><span style="color: white;"> gelato and then head to the Piazza del Duomo. *<em>Notice the juxtaposition of the varied architectural facades and the way the sunlight slants into the piazza at sharp angles.</em></span></span></li>
</ul>
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-W3My555Zdyg/UbC7dhpT7oI/AAAAAAAADZU/Sz4S3cNrZWA/s1600/street+light.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-W3My555Zdyg/UbC7dhpT7oI/AAAAAAAADZU/Sz4S3cNrZWA/s320/street+light.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><strong>Florence in the Gloaming</strong><br />
by Leah Marie Brown<br />
This shot was taken just moments before the street<br />
lights flickered to life, giving the charming<br />
alley a slightly sinister look.<br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9HNavRbYh4Y/UbC7RG4e8gI/AAAAAAAADY0/WEvhSicoKpE/s1600/dog+statue.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9HNavRbYh4Y/UbC7RG4e8gI/AAAAAAAADY0/WEvhSicoKpE/s320/dog+statue.JPG" width="222" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><strong>Hound of Hell</strong><br />
by Leah Marie Brown<br />
This hound stands guard in a private <br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">courtyard in the heart of Florence. The ancient Romans </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">and Greeks regarded the dog as a magical animal</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">with the power over life and death.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3gBv4uYizuE/UbC7bMYZQDI/AAAAAAAADZM/C2SHa3otaY0/s1600/chandelier+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3gBv4uYizuE/UbC7bMYZQDI/AAAAAAAADZM/C2SHa3otaY0/s320/chandelier+2.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><strong>Aglow</strong><br />
by Leah Marie Brown<br />
I spied this chandelier hanging in a second<br />
floor apartment in Florence. I could<br />
not resist snapping a picture of it.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-q4tJ5lNIQpA/UbDOckPGmUI/AAAAAAAADZ0/36-Ahw8whIo/s1600/precious+pink.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="191" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-q4tJ5lNIQpA/UbDOckPGmUI/AAAAAAAADZ0/36-Ahw8whIo/s320/precious+pink.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><strong>Pretty in Pink</strong><br />
by Leah Marie Brown<br />
I took particular delight in viewing Florence's<br />
shop windows. These sweet little pink<br />
gowns made me smile.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-K396_yha6_I/UbC7iz9NNkI/AAAAAAAADZc/T-tgA3gMW0c/s1600/wine+tasting+in+florence.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-K396_yha6_I/UbC7iz9NNkI/AAAAAAAADZc/T-tgA3gMW0c/s320/wine+tasting+in+florence.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><strong>Wine-ing</strong><br />
by Leah Marie Brown<br />
ArtViva's guide, the charming Stefan, pouring a local<br />
vintage after sharing his prodigious wisdom about <br />
Florence.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dD78ecn8eg0/UbDcvKKXr5I/AAAAAAAADaQ/LtM-qxeC8VI/s1600/gelato+in+florence.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dD78ecn8eg0/UbDcvKKXr5I/AAAAAAAADaQ/LtM-qxeC8VI/s320/gelato+in+florence.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><strong>Yum</strong><br />
by Leah Marie Brown<br />
Mounds of gelato create a delicious rainbow in a <br />
gelateria in Florence.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cC3Oy8hM1Es/UbDcuZjK9JI/AAAAAAAADaM/nkBZ9kW2nIo/s1600/grom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cC3Oy8hM1Es/UbDcuZjK9JI/AAAAAAAADaM/nkBZ9kW2nIo/s320/grom.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><strong>Grom</strong><br />
by Stephanie Mounts<br />
The author enjoying a chocolate and <br />
coconut gelato cone from the world<br />
famous Grom Gelateria in Florence.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-engjIGBIj-4/UbDcMBYIFqI/AAAAAAAADaE/zNDHO3Ve9B4/s1600/architecture.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-engjIGBIj-4/UbDcMBYIFqI/AAAAAAAADaE/zNDHO3Ve9B4/s320/architecture.jpg" width="154" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><strong>Duomo</strong><br />
by Leah Marie Brown<br />
Sunlight highlights the terracotta<br />
tiles on the roof of the Duomo.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OuWC1zrtaEs/UbC7XAXoB1I/AAAAAAAADY8/5G0qGCcshy8/s1600/Juxtaposition.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OuWC1zrtaEs/UbC7XAXoB1I/AAAAAAAADY8/5G0qGCcshy8/s320/Juxtaposition.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><strong>Juxtaposition</strong><br />
by Leah Marie Brown<br />
The varied facades of the buildings around the<br />
Duomo provide an intriguing juxtaposition.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-grweBeQtFq8/UbEM9T_hQdI/AAAAAAAADa0/GeyH1mRMJZM/s1600/tower+at+night.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-grweBeQtFq8/UbEM9T_hQdI/AAAAAAAADa0/GeyH1mRMJZM/s320/tower+at+night.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tower<br />
by Leah Marie Brown<br />
A tower in Florence, lit at night.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AHGFKDiU6qw/UbEM4UuMbeI/AAAAAAAADak/pxBKQc3vLJ0/s1600/david+and+the+lion.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AHGFKDiU6qw/UbEM4UuMbeI/AAAAAAAADak/pxBKQc3vLJ0/s320/david+and+the+lion.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><strong>David and the Lion</strong><br />
by Leah Marie Brown<br />
Taken at night using a slow shutter speed, this<br />
statue of a lion looks like it is about to <br />
devour David.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DsXwlcWy8Jc/UbEM86xaiuI/AAAAAAAADas/JB1p2kg8HQ0/s1600/statue.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DsXwlcWy8Jc/UbEM86xaiuI/AAAAAAAADas/JB1p2kg8HQ0/s320/statue.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stalked by Shadows<br />
by Leah Marie Brown<br />
A statue appears to be stalked by<br />
ominous shadows. Florence.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-M_jgxDcsRXQ/UbC7X49_jiI/AAAAAAAADZE/sH70z0wc7kc/s1600/Leah+In+Florence+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="192" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-M_jgxDcsRXQ/UbC7X49_jiI/AAAAAAAADZE/sH70z0wc7kc/s320/Leah+In+Florence+2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><strong>A Roof with a View</strong><br />
by Stephanie Mounts<br />
The author enjoying the Florentine<br />
skyline on a bright, late summer day.<br />
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</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Leah Marie Brownhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05432159961271108072noreply@blogger.com3