Make it stop!

The sleek, coppery locks that donned her head this morning …” Her hair put her head on this morning? Or perhaps padlocks put her head on this morning.

Good thing she didn’t wear much make-up. It would slide off her face faster than a double scoop of ice cream in a five-year-old’s hand.” Where do I start with this one? Images of a five-year-old with ice cream in its bare hand. Images of ice cream sliding off the woman’s face. Images of a five-year-old sliding off the woman’s face.

Going to the Kindle home page, deleting the book, and walking away now. I know the book was free, but may I get a refund please?

Trials of a serial reader

I’ll admit it. I read a lot of what is often called “trash” — romance novels, paranormal romance, cozy mysteries and chick lit. You know, the basic escapism fare. My life is real enough; I don’t want to read about someone else’s drama.

For my escapism tastes, I blame Jane Austen, Elizabeth Bennett and Mr. Darcy. I also blame my paternal grandmother and my favorite bands, including but not limited to: Kings of Leon, matchbox 20, Maroon 5 … Hey, gotta blame someone, right?

I fell in love with Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy at a young age; ergo I love reading romance novels. Because I must like the characters if I’m going to bother reading, I am likely to read a series if the author has written a series. I don’t heart permanent goodbyes, even if the people are fictional. If Pride and Prejudice had been a series of books, I would have read them all.

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Is that really what you mean?


Proofreading is a part of my job. It is also one of the hazards of my job. I see typos, (cue Haley Joel Osment) grammar and punctuation errors everywhere. It doesn’t matter if I’m reading a classic, trash or something in between.

Of course, if I’m reading something I have written, all bets are off. This is true for most authors and proofers. By the time you hand your work off to be read, you have usually reworked it so many times, you won’t see what is right in front of you. Spell check is a wonderful thing, but it won’t catch there, their and they’re if used incorrectly. It also catches words — such as “proofer” — that are trade slang. C’est la guerre.

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Sugar Jamison

I usually avoid books that have “BBW” in the description or genre. Think plague.

For some reason, I when I read the blurb for Sugar Jamison’s Dangerous Curves Ahead, I did not go screaming in the opposite direction.In fact, I downloaded it to Vishous.

Dangerous Curves Ahead

After I slogged through the very tedious romance (yeah, not an adjective I usually use for romance) If You Only Knew, I wasn’t sure I was ready for another chick lit read for a long, looooooong while. I skimmed and skipped through the last half of the book and still ran into the same phrases again and again. The final reveal of the deep, dark secret was such a small detail next to the best friend’s secret. And frankly, even I haven’t met guys that are nearly as dim-witted about relationships and women as the two men in that book. But I digress.

It was the middle of the night and I needed something to read to help me get back to sleep. I looked through my To Be Read and saw the title, clicked on the description, and thought, “Oh hell, why not?” I found out why not.

In response to a snarky aunt of an ex, skinny, holier-than-thou, I-have-a-weight-loss-center, judgemental bitch, Ellis gave this response as to why she was buying a Black and White cookie: “Ellis shook her head sadly. ‘I ate fifteen boxes of cookies the last time I robbed a Girl Scout. And then I gained three pounds. And then I got arrested and then they forced me to do all that community service and let me tell you, my big ass does not look good in neon orange.’ ”

All Hail Sugar Jamison! I think this woman has just become a new shero of mine.

Now, my snarky, skinny, holier-than-thou, über-critical, judgemental bitch is simply one of the many voices in my head, harping at me night and day, telling me I’m not good enough because I’m plus-size. She nags at me, then my self-destruct voice says any good habits and life-style changes I attempt are going to fail. Miss Bitch starts her tirade, and Miss Self-Doubt tells me I can’t, so forget it. I then throw my hands in the air, just chucking the idea of losing weight and getting fit.

Maybe this time, Miss Mouth can use Ellis’s line? In just a few short pages, Jamison is making me finally understand that not every woman has to be a size 0 to be happy. Not every woman needs to be the perfect model. Not every man needs a sweet little lady. Some men aren’t afraid of curves and some men like sassy women. In fiction, at least.

A very good start. Let’s see if the rest of the book keeps up.

Poor Vishous

I used to wonder if my Kindle  — Vishous — got indigestion because of the junk reading I do. Like junk food, junk reading has just a bunch of sweet, salty, fluffy filler that will rot the teeth (or should that be “brain”). Also called (by me) place markers, these are the snacks poor Vishous has filling his memory chip in between the more substantive meals.

I no longer have to wonder. The answer is “yes.” V was restarting at inconvenient moments or flipping to the book’s cover instead of the next page. I placed a call to the Dr. Amazon Help Desk group. They best Kindle doctors around. Ok, so they are the only Kindle doctors around but let us not get too picky on that point.

With the good doctor’s help, I found out that there was apparently a book that I loaned out about a year ago. Even though it was returned, the book somehow got stuck in the lending loop. When I tried to read that book, it was as though two people were trying to read it at the same time. The result was V’s digestive distress.

After deleting the book from my Kindle back to the Cloud and re-downloading, then updating and rebooting, Vishous is back to his happy, peppy self, ready to rock, roll and be read.

I love the Dr. Amazon Help Desk group.