To celebrate the e-release of my historical novel as well as my new website, I'm giving away one digital copy of Every Heart Has Its Day in an easy---and I think unique---contest:
When I told my family that The Wild Rose Press contracted my novel, one of my daughters' friends designed a book cover.
Visit http://www.lyndalukow.com/contest.htm to see the creation, then email your guess of the designer's age to lyndalukow@lyndalukow.com . I'll throw all correct answers into a hat and draw a winner on October 10, 2008.
Good luck!
Lynda
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Friday, September 26, 2008
Ain't Life Grand?!
(Get comfortable. Grab your favorite beverage. This is gonna be a long one.)
Have you ever had one of those days when you just didn’t want to get out of bed?
Yesterday, like every other morning, my husband slipped his arm under my neck and snuggled against my back. (Sure beats a blaring alarm clock, huh?) The kids hadn’t yet woken. The sun hadn’t yet risen. I begged, “Can we stay here all day? Please?” Since it was too late for him to call off work, I dragged my butt down the stairs.
My blood pressure shot through the roof. Baron, my cinnamon Siberian husky, apparently didn’t appreciate my lethargy. I stumbled through his puddle after I cleaned up the garbage he had ripped from the kitchen can. When my husband tied him out, the furry brat didn’t look one bit contrite.
Within moments, the stench of burning sneakers permeated the house. I flung open the door to a noxious cloud. (Okay, maybe my vision blurred.) The fog followed Baron as he zipped into the living room and rubbed his snout all over the couch. One son ran gagging into the playroom. My daughter flew back upstairs and slammed her door. My hubby grabbed the dog’s collar and dragged him to the back door while my youngest son retrieved the dog’s leash from the porch. (I still wonder if the skunk unclasped him.)
I spent the rest of the day de-skunking the dog and house.
For those who find themselves in similar circumstances, I found the perfect home remedy: Mix one quart of hydrogen peroxide, 1/4 cup baking soda, and a dash of Dawn dishwashing detergent. Apply, avoiding eyes. Let stand 3 minutes. Rinse thoroughly. WARNING: This solution bleaches hair. (However, if your dog is as dumb as the proverbial blond, too---as in plays with black and white kitties with big, fluffy tails TWICE in the same year---you might be willing to risk it.) Woolite Pet Oxygen Stain and Odor Remover followed by Febreze Air Effects Pet Odor Eliminator cleaned and deodorized my couch.
So today…
…other than overusing ellipses…
…I celebrate fresh air…
…and---drum roll, please…
…the e-release of Every Heart Has Its Day!
Please visit my author page and/or The Wild Rose Press to buy your copy!
Thanks,
Lynda
Have you ever had one of those days when you just didn’t want to get out of bed?
Yesterday, like every other morning, my husband slipped his arm under my neck and snuggled against my back. (Sure beats a blaring alarm clock, huh?) The kids hadn’t yet woken. The sun hadn’t yet risen. I begged, “Can we stay here all day? Please?” Since it was too late for him to call off work, I dragged my butt down the stairs.
My blood pressure shot through the roof. Baron, my cinnamon Siberian husky, apparently didn’t appreciate my lethargy. I stumbled through his puddle after I cleaned up the garbage he had ripped from the kitchen can. When my husband tied him out, the furry brat didn’t look one bit contrite.
Within moments, the stench of burning sneakers permeated the house. I flung open the door to a noxious cloud. (Okay, maybe my vision blurred.) The fog followed Baron as he zipped into the living room and rubbed his snout all over the couch. One son ran gagging into the playroom. My daughter flew back upstairs and slammed her door. My hubby grabbed the dog’s collar and dragged him to the back door while my youngest son retrieved the dog’s leash from the porch. (I still wonder if the skunk unclasped him.)
I spent the rest of the day de-skunking the dog and house.
For those who find themselves in similar circumstances, I found the perfect home remedy: Mix one quart of hydrogen peroxide, 1/4 cup baking soda, and a dash of Dawn dishwashing detergent. Apply, avoiding eyes. Let stand 3 minutes. Rinse thoroughly. WARNING: This solution bleaches hair. (However, if your dog is as dumb as the proverbial blond, too---as in plays with black and white kitties with big, fluffy tails TWICE in the same year---you might be willing to risk it.) Woolite Pet Oxygen Stain and Odor Remover followed by Febreze Air Effects Pet Odor Eliminator cleaned and deodorized my couch.
So today…
…other than overusing ellipses…
…I celebrate fresh air…
…and---drum roll, please…
…the e-release of Every Heart Has Its Day!
Please visit my author page and/or The Wild Rose Press to buy your copy!
Thanks,
Lynda
Saturday, September 6, 2008
Hibernating in August
Q: What do you get when two sons receive concussions in just under a week?
A: Three head cases.
My 16-year-old son's injury concerned, but didn't upset me too much. He plays football, and we both accept the game's inherent risks. Maybe next time he gets chop blocked---undoubtedly there will be a next time since he has healed and returned to the field---he won't land on his helmet.
My 14-year-old son, who visited the ER a week before his brother, is still sidelined. The circumstances surrounding his injuries, which include a broken nose that required surgery, differ vastly. Mama Bear (that's me) might have hidden her fangs if the boy who assaulted her son from behind had accepted responsibility and sincerely apologized. However, I'm not yet able to forgive Mr. Macho Wannabe or the coach who failed to show up for or cancel practice.
In the past month, I've seen more hospitals, doctors, and medical personnel than a Grey's Anatomy-aholic. Something other than my sanity had to give, so writing hibernated.
Anyway, if my cross country freshman doesn't strain her ankle, my collegians don't develop hernias from their books, and my gridiron giants continue recovery, I'll sheathe my claws and my fingers will once again lumber over the keyboard.
Should you wish to read my latest finished piece, please visit www.longandshortreviews.com and click on the "Free Short Story" button. Marriage on the Menu is currently the featured short, and will be available in the archives for the next six months (or so). I'd love to hear your comments!
Thanks,
Lynda
A: Three head cases.
My 16-year-old son's injury concerned, but didn't upset me too much. He plays football, and we both accept the game's inherent risks. Maybe next time he gets chop blocked---undoubtedly there will be a next time since he has healed and returned to the field---he won't land on his helmet.
My 14-year-old son, who visited the ER a week before his brother, is still sidelined. The circumstances surrounding his injuries, which include a broken nose that required surgery, differ vastly. Mama Bear (that's me) might have hidden her fangs if the boy who assaulted her son from behind had accepted responsibility and sincerely apologized. However, I'm not yet able to forgive Mr. Macho Wannabe or the coach who failed to show up for or cancel practice.
In the past month, I've seen more hospitals, doctors, and medical personnel than a Grey's Anatomy-aholic. Something other than my sanity had to give, so writing hibernated.
Anyway, if my cross country freshman doesn't strain her ankle, my collegians don't develop hernias from their books, and my gridiron giants continue recovery, I'll sheathe my claws and my fingers will once again lumber over the keyboard.
Should you wish to read my latest finished piece, please visit www.longandshortreviews.com and click on the "Free Short Story" button. Marriage on the Menu is currently the featured short, and will be available in the archives for the next six months (or so). I'd love to hear your comments!
Thanks,
Lynda
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