Make it Make Cents~ Sherri Easley

 The American penny passed away quietly last year on November 12, after a prolonged illness. It was 238 years old.

We all knew it was coming, yet it still feels like the end of an era.

Once the smallest coin in our wallets by value, the humble penny outlived its sibling, the half‑penny, by a remarkable 168 years.

It’s survived now by the nickel, dime, quarter, and those elusive half‑dollar and dollar coins we only seem to encounter on rare occasions.

Why, you might ask, would something so small, so seemingly insignificant, be retired? The answer is simple and hard to argue with: it costs nearly four cents to produce a coin worth only one.

And yet…

I am old enough to remember when a penny meant something. When it had value beyond its copper weight. When there was penny candy, and parking meters, and a whole collection of sayings that stitched the penny into our everyday language:

 A penny for your thoughts…

Find a penny, pick it up…

A penny saved is a penny earned…

We slipped them into our shoes for wedding‑day luck. Tossed them into fountains with whispered wishes. Tucked them into jars, trays, and palms like talismans. Some pennies brought luck. Some carried love. Some were simply kept because it felt wrong to let them go.

 For generations, the penny has been part of the language of romance, small and easily overlooked, yet quietly powerful. Much like first glances… or second chances.

Which leaves me wondering:

What happens to all those sayings now?

What do we offer instead of a penny for your thoughts?

How do we wish someone luck without a small copper coin to press into their hand?

Maybe the penny disappears from our pockets.

But it doesn’t have to vanish from our hearts.

Romance is made of small things that carry big meaning:

The coin in your shoe.

The cent on a café floor that felt like a sign.

The last penny tossed into a fountain—just in case.

Now the penny will live on in our stories and our books. We can write of lucky pennies. Of lost ones. Of the ones you kept.

So I’ll ask you... 

What’s the most meaningful penny moment you’ve ever had?

A penny for your thoughts. 💛

Cheese Week by Laura Hunsaker

 This is that week where time means nothing. What is time, even? 

In my household we call it Cheese Week because of this meme:

One of the things that threw me off, and had me miss my day (sorry all! I was due the 26th!). I work in a school so I do get a couple of weeks off, but what do you all do with this weird week after Christmas and before New Year's Day? Apparently  I eat too much cheese ;)

I like to leave my tree up until New Year's as well, so I'm literally in my pajamas, hanging out with my dog, watching too much Netflix, and reading all the books I got for the holidays.

I'm keeping this post short and sweet because  I would rather hear from you. What do you do with this time of year? Watch T.V. or read? Do a puzzle, travel? Tell me in the comments!

And if you need a book or two to hit your Goodreads goal, I have several short stories! Dreams of the Future is my latest, and it's a short novella/long short story. But Amethyst Heat is free, it's like 7 pages, and it counts on Goodreads ;) Just sayin'

My Short Stories/Novellas:

Vampires

Time Travel

Romantic Suspense

The West Window by Liz Flaherty

I wrote most of this in 2018. I was surprised at how relevant it still felt when I happened onto it.

Every now and then…well, most days, I look out the west window of my office at the trees and the fields and the big round bales of hay that manage to convince me they are deer if I only see them out of the corner of my eye. And I get philosophical. I’m not sure if that comes with age or experience or weariness, but there it is. I find myself with tears on my face and not knowing where they came from or why they’re there. I laugh out loud here in the silence of this beloved room, yet am unable to pinpoint what’s so funny.

This morning, in this quiet place, I’m thinking about Christmas. I’m not “feeling it” very much so far this year. As long as I’m with family or friends, I can find it in the laughter and music that is shared there, but the feeling leaves me too soon. There is still the blessing to be found in believing, the joy in giving, and the rush of pleasure that comes with lights and wide-eyed children.

And yet.

There is so much depression at this time of year, so much loneliness, so much awareness of what we don’t have. Relationships may have changed or disappeared through the year. Loss might have become such a part of you that it seems to have its own heartbeat. You may try to go back to sleep when you wake in the morning because facing the day is just…well, it’s beyond you. You just can’t.

Yes, you know how lucky you are and how wonderful life is and that soon you will feel better. You get the thing with counting your blessings and faking it until you make it and smiling even though it makes your cheeks wobble and your eyes water. You get all of that.

But now it is Christmas and even though you love the lights and the kids and the excitement and the music, you’re kind of overwhelmed, too. You don’t feel like you think you should. You might be angry for no identifiable reason. You might feel compelled to make someone else feel bad because…I don’t know why. Maybe just because. Your own pain from loss and change you didn’t want may threaten to take over your life and take you down with it.

This is when you need to find your west window, even if you don’t know you have one. But you don’t have to do it alone. If you need help, it is up to you to make the call. It is when you must remember…you MUST remember…that it’s not just you. That lots of people are in the same place as you, even ones you think have perfect lives. The Size Twos. The ones with perennially good hair and always full wallets and kids who behave in the grocery store and spouses who know what they’re thinking.

But there’s fear, isn’t there?—that’s hard to get around. If you’ve been hurt, it could happen again. You could lose all the emotional gains you’ve dragged up from inside yourself in just an instant and the next time it will be even worse because you’ve talked to somebody about it and now they know. They know, but they care. If it happens again, and real life tells us it very well might, they’ll still care.

It’s dark now, a morning later, sitting here beside the west window. The office Christmas tree is covered in white lights but only a few ornaments because I never finished decorating it. The desktop is the same mess it always is, with memories showing up sometimes in the piles, stirring the laughter or the tears or both.

There…as the sun comes up in the opposite window, a deer makes his light-footed way through the field. It’s not quite light enough to see him, but I’m almost sure…but it’s not. It’s a round bale, as beautiful in its way as the deer would have been.

I shouldn’t give advice—I am as unqualified to do so as anyone could possibly be—but advice comes, I am convinced, not from thinking you know it all but from caring about the person you’re talking to. But even as I spill out here what I think you should do, I know that the best thing anyone can do for someone else, much better than giving advice, is to listen.

And the best thing you can do for yourself is the giving I mentioned earlier. Whether it’s gifts or time or just a listening ear or a terrible joke. Take an angel from a giving tree, hang mittens on another, ring a bell, visit someone who doesn’t normally get visitors. Instead of scrolling with your phone, call someone and talk on it. They’ll be glad to hear your voice. If you’re not a phone talker (there are those of us around), text. Write a letter or send a card. The truth is, if you’re thinking about someone else, you give yourself a rest.

So, if you’re having a rough holiday season, whatever the cause, find your own west window and things that give comfort—even if they’re round bales instead of deer. There is hope and love and sharing to be found and I hope you find all of it. I hope I do, too.

Merry Christmas.

We Need a Little Christmas by Bea Tifton

 Caroline Clemmons is a little under the weather, so I am filling in today. 

We celebrate Christmas in my family. Leading up to the big day, my mother and I have several things we like to do. Mom and I love Christmas decorations. LOVE them. We have way too many of them, but still we buy more. Since we combined households, it looks like Christmas threw up in our house as we drag box after box out of the garage. My poor father was a bit of a minimalist, but he gritted his teeth and didn't say anything. This year I have replaced our not so great tree with a new, more realistic looking one. We have to have artificial because everyone in the family is allergic to the real ones. But we cover our tree in ornaments, unwrapping memories and telling stories as we decorate. 

One year at my parents' house, we were decorating a tree we'd had for many years. There was a terrible noise, and the tree pulled out of its base with a groan and fell over  onto the hard tile. Beloved ornaments shattered. My mother had tears in her eyes as Dad and I scrambled to same the ones we could. After that, even with the new tree, Dad secured it to the wall. 

Even our yard is decorated. My father did a wonderful job with that. In recent years we had a younger,  more spry man put up the actual house lights, but Dad took care of the lawn decorations. We don't use those inflatables, but we had two lighted deer, one that moves, an angel, and some lighted candy canes. The candy canes came from a neighbor who was tired of them. They were the older, bigger, well made ones. Mom had wanted some for years and I was proud of my acquisition. The yard looked fabulous. One night, someone stole all of the candy cane lights. They came back for the angel the next night but my dogs barked and the thieves dropped it. Mom was crushed and we were very disappointed. My neighborhood usually doesn't have problems with theft and we felt so violated. The following year I bought some new candy canes to replace the original ones, but they were newer, smaller, and not as well made. This year, I'm not sure I can get everything up and running but we do have the house lights connected and on a timer. 

Mom and I love to drive around looking at Christmas lights. There is an older, wealthy neighborhood close to us and each year there is a house tour. We like to drive through the neighborhood and look at all of the beautiful displays. In the next town, there is a neighborhood famous for their Christmas lights. People come from miles around to see them and the entire neighborhood participates. Displays run from quirky to traditional and there are even some Hanukkah lights. The houses are beautiful, many of them what I would call mansions, and there are several people with hot chocolate or popcorn stands. It's free and there's such a fun small town feel in the middle of a bustling metroplex. 

There are several stores that have huge Christmas inventories. Mom and I love to stroll through each year just looking. We usually do end up buying one or two new ornaments. What can I say? It's a sickness. 

The entire family watches Christmas movies. There are several we never miss, such as the original Miracle on 34th Street and the Muppet Christmas Carol. Dad and I both love A Christmas Carol and we drove Mom crazy by watching every version we could find. Mom loves the Hallmark Christmas movies and we try to watch a lot of them. 

This year, we aren't sure what we are doing. We're going to be somewhat subdued. We lost my father in late May and we're still heartbroken, of course. It seems strange to just do what we always do and thinking of past Christmases make us sad at this point. Some day we may be able to smile as we remember my father but this year, feelings are still too raw. And my mother's  grief for her own parents and other people we've lost has been sharpened. We will do something just to maintain some sense of normalcy. One thing this year has taught us is that we never know how much time we will have together so we need to take time to celebrate these occasions as they come. And to celebrate each other by spending time together. 

What traditions do you have leading up to whatever holiday you celebrate in December? Leave a comment below. 

Photo Credits:

Pexels.com

Nick Collins "Shallow Focus Photography of Green Christmas Tree"

Cottonbro Studios "Facade of a House with Christmas Decorations"

Natalia S "Festive Christmas Lawn Display with Lights"

Magaly Taboada "Festive Christmas Wreath on Green Door"

Pixabay "Four Yellow Lighted Candles"

Cottonbro Studios "Christmas Socks Hanging at a Fireplace"

Thanksgiving Posts Are So Last Season... by Laura Hunsaker

 Or Are They...

I've always found Thanksgiving Gratitude Posts to be fairly cliche. Maybe it's because we see them every year, or maybe because I would have my students write them...I don't know, in my mind, they just aren't something I've ever wanted to write. And then this year I got a gratitude journal. You're supposed to write little things, like I'm grateful for a hot cup of coffee on a cold morning, or I'm thankful that it rained. It really forced me to look at all of the little things I'm actually grateful for. And it stopped feeling forced. It started feeling like something I would look forward to writing.

Readers, I think I've changed my mind. I think I like Thanksgiving posts now. 

I'm thankful for you. First and foremost, I'm thankful for anyone anywhere who has ever read my words. Whether it's social media, blog posts, or my books, I'm thankful that there are people out there who enjoy my words and my voice.

I'm also thankful for libraries on rainy days. I'm thankful for good music. I'm thankful for discovering new bands, and finding something new to obsess over in my free time. I'm thankful for my cozy blankets and favorite sweatshirt. I'm thankful for freshly baked cookies, and pumpkin pies, and hot cocoa. 

I'm also grateful at how many of you have loved my latest story, Kate and Kyle's wedding short DREAMS OF THE FUTURE. Thank you all. And feel free to post what you're thankful for!

Amazon  |  Barnes & Noble  |  Kobo  |  Google Play  |  D2D  |  Goodreads

Kate Landry is soon to be Kate Donovan, if only the groom would show up…


Maid of honor Cara Nguyen wants everything to go smoothly for her best friend's wedding, yet almost immediately, the wedding turns into a fiasco. Kate and Kyle deserve to have the wedding of their dreams, and Cara wants to make it happen. How can she pull off the wedding of their dreams when the flowers are delivered to the wrong location, the groom is missing, and the lovely sunny day has become a sweltering hot mess? There’s a lot to do, and so little time to do it. She definitely doesn’t have time to get distracted by a sexy groomsman in a kilt.

Kyle Donovan is ready to marry the love of his life, but first he has to get back to the church…

Dash Helms is in the small town of Chester, California for his friend Kyle’s wedding. This should be a happy event, yet It seems everything is going haywire. A caravan of wedding guests breaks down on their way to the venue, one of the groomsmen misses his flight, and the wedding has to be moved inside. Yet the beautiful maid of honor is the only thing he can concentrate on. When Dash is asked to step in at the last minute as a replacement groomsman, of course he says yes. While the striking brunette walking down the aisle ahead of him wants nothing to do with him, even she can’t deny the sparks that fly between them.

With everything seeming to go wrong, what can go right?

In this wedding short story written for Kate and Kyle from Dark Past, the cast of the Fatal Instincts series comes together to celebrate their friends. With everyone in the same place at once, and romance in the air, can this small town handle them?

THANKSGIVING - And Getting Ready for Winter

                                                 by Judy Ann Davis  

Thanksgiving is the time for us to individually be thankful for many things in our lives. It's my favorite holiday of the year. It’s a special day when we don’t have to go into a meltdown mode chasing down the perfect gifts for everyone on our Christmas list. The real gift is simply being able to gather family and friends together to eat, talk, share stories, and enjoy all those tempting dishes—like to-die-for corn bread stuffing, pecan and pumpkin pies with mounds of whipped cream, and the ever-famous turkey baked to a golden brown in the oven or a deep fryer.

In the northern states, Thanksgiving also is a reminder that Old Man Winter is on his way with flying fat snowflakes and sparkling white snowbanks. For many, the national holiday also heralds the start of the holiday season as stores and shops blare carols, hymns, and contemporary songs of Christmas from their speakers. And Christmas music is something I can get behind, even if I dislike shopping for presents. 

As a reminder, my “Musical Christmas Series,” consisting of three novellas, is available. Each female in the three-book series plays a musical instrument and has a story to tell. My first one, JUNE ~ The Pianist, is followed by ADELENE ~ The Violinist, and finally , LUCY ~ The Clarinetist. All are available on Amazon. 

 LINK:   June ~The Pianist 

                Wishing everyone a Happy Thanksgiving. 

                                 Enjoy the holidays!   

"Reasons for Thanksgiving"

To have food enough and a place to dwell,
To have work to do and to do it well,

To find the comfort when things go wrong
In a bit of prayer or a snatch of song,

To know good books and share their worth,
To plant bright flowers in rich brown earth,

To have true friends--this is living
And reason enough for Thanksgiving.

~Edith Shaw Butler

It's the Noise by Liz Flaherty

Thanksgiving will be a week from today. It will be a day when I think of the family members who are no longer with us, because Thanksgiving was always such a family day, often spent in Aunt Nellie's basement when I was a kid and in different homes as the years passed. We never had a matriarch who always did the turkey and bossed the kitchen. Mostly we had ... well ... noise. 

The women would be in the kitchen, all talking at once. I was young enough that I neither knew nor cared what they were talking about. The men would be in the living room talking about farming or their workplace. If it was after dinner, a few of them would be snoring.

The kids were all over the place. Little girls playing with dolls, boys playing board games or the 78 rpm records on Aunt Nellie's Victrola, teenage girls staying away from the younger ones. They'd sit together at a table and talk in low tones and compare lipstick shades. Sometimes their voices would drop to a whisper and everyone would know the subject was ... shh ... boys.

Things were never exactly like this after I grew up. I missed Aunt Nellie's house, the Victrola, and the cousins. But then, new places, people, and traditions took their place. We had our own kids, who in turn married and had their own. We seldom all make it on holidays, because our family is spread far and wide. 

But, even though I'm the oldest cook in the family, my son-in-law usually does the turkey--yay! My daughter-in-law roasts the best vegetables in the oven. My other daughter-in-law is the pie queen and my daughter makes cookies and deviled eggs. Lots of both. I just fill in where there are any blank spots. 

The TV with football is on in the corner, teenagers are gaming in front of the one in the basement. We're all talking and laughing, eating cookies, and drinking wine. Later in the afternoon, some of us converge at the mostly cleared table to play games.

We make a lot of noise, and even though not much else is the same, the kind of noise it is is just as perfect as it was then. Just as inviting. The separation by gender doesn't happen as much now, if for no other reasons than our houses are more wide open; we don't have walls between our kitchen areas and our living rooms. At our Thanksgiving celebrations, we don't seem to have generational walls, either. I love that. I love being with family, period, and it is my greatest gratitude of all. 

Wishing you the happiest and noisiest of Thanksgivings!

Available now! A story from the Christmas Town series and a special bonus read!

Amazon: https://a.co/d/5InLKmJ

Everywhere else: https://books2read.com/u/4j6G92

When Ellie Griffith comes to Christmas Town, Maine, to sell socks, her overachieving family accuses her of running away and extending her lifelong habit of never finishing anything she starts. In her heart, broken by being left nearly at the altar, she thinks they’re probably right, but she has to try one more time. The last thing she wants to do is meet a man. Patrick Nolan, the seasick-prone, dyslexic son of a fisherman and a librarian, owns a Christmas tree farm outside of Christmas Town. He’s grown used to being the family disappointment and loves the direction his life has gone. He’d like to have a family of his own, but his history of rushing into relationships has left him gun-shy about love. But then the manager of the new sock store slips on the ice right in front of him. Maybe, just maybe, the stories of magic in Christmas Town are true.