Dee's life in short

Welcome to Dee's News!
Put up your feet, have a cup of coffee or hot chocolate--or tea if it's your preference--and feel right at home.

I live with my family in Florida. I share my home with my husband, one son and three dogs. The three dogs replaced the three grown children who now live on their own. So okay, some of us are a bit nutty for animals. We have Maggie, a rescue Belgium Shepherd, Zeus, he's supposed to be a minature white schnauzer, but he now weighs 25 lbs. Then there's our 15 pound I-have-an-attitude Icarus, also a white schauzer, who thinks he's king of the household. His favorite hobby is carrying his empty bowl around the house to let us know it's empty. Right now he's in time out. I think he's the one who just caused one of the dogs to yelp. He's known for biting them where it hurts, and then looking all innocent. "What? What did I do?"

Writing is my passion. When I was a child I would write plays and put on puppet shows for my class. My cousins and I would put on shows and charge the neighbor kids a penny to watch us.

Then I grew up and had children and the only writing I did was letter writing--long letters--telling family and friends what had happened since last I wrote. I never thought much about these letters until people started telling me how much they enjoyed reading them, that they were funny. They were? It was simply my life--and I didn't think Chris putting stones in his nose was funny. Or Michelle making faces at people in church was amusing. And then there came holy terror Diana. She couldn't keep her little hands off anything--just had to feel it, touch it. Or Doug--he had a hard time speaking. He knew what he was saying, but we didn't. He'd get frustrated and say, "No! No! Didn't say that." He speaks okay now. Well he should after all that therapy and finally making Michelle stop giving him things until he did more than grunt for them.

When I was 38 I decided to go to college. Actually, my hubby said, "Why don't you go to college?" Why? Because I'm not smart enough for college. So I went and took a creative writing class. Believe me when I say you never want to read the 10 page story all about my son's dog Max. It's hidden somewhere.

College is contagious. You go, you make it through a class. You sign up for another class--or two or three. Before you know it, you're ready to move on to the University. In my case, the University of Central Florida. I received my degree in Journalism with an emphasis on PR/Advertising.

However, in my senior year my hubby was transferred to Ohio--our home state. He had to about tie me to the bumper to get me away from Florida. Besides that, Max had to be put down two days before we left. So it was pretty miserable with three crying women who didn't want to leave Florida and had to leave the dead dog and a son who decided he didn't want to go with us to the snow.

Well, I'm sure for years later he wished he'd had gone with us. Instead, he married. He and his wife turned up in the middle of the night when we'd just moved into our house that was nearly finished. They came to visit. Stayed for five months. Long visit. Ashley was born while they were there. Then they moved back to Florida when she was 5 weeks old.

Never fear. He and Ashley returned to us when she was two years old. And stayed until she was 19. Of course, we all moved back to Florida. Those Ohio winters are miserable.

Meanwhile, I went to work for the Galion Inquirer as a staff reporter. And since none of the kids whom I worked with wanted to do the Farm Page, I took it over as Farm Page Editor. Whatever you wanted to know about pigs or goats--hey, I learned a lot about them. Did you know that they bred Holstein cows bigger so they can produce more milk with less feed? If you want to know more, I wrote a romantic comedy called "Take This Mop and Shove it," based on this rancher who invented them. Of course, he's made up, but a good hero who's mother refers to him as a mad scientist and wants him to quit messing with over grown cows and start his own brood of kids.

Back to Florida we moved and I jumped back into my senior year to complete my degree. Then I took a part-time job working as an educational advisor at Seminole Community College. I eventually worked full time and stayed there for 15 years.

With that came "Death Came to Dinner," a romantic suspense built around a college counselor and the characters who work there.

Also, I wrote "Coming Home" about a woman who moved away from Florida when she learned she was pregnant and was threatened by her boyfriend's father, the senator, that she had to leave or her mother would find herself out of a job and home. She inherits her uncle's groves five years later, gets some spunk and returns to take over the family home and grove. She's reunited with her son's father, who is engaged to someone else when she arrives. Never fear, all romances like to have happy endings.

Meanwhile, I write short stories for the confession magazines. I love doing those. They are fun to write. I'll have Bride Wanted: ASP in the December issue of True Confessions. They may change the title, though. And in January, I will have my story, My Texas husband wasn’t the hotshot he claimed to be. I loved writing this story. It took me back to my days of living in OK where a garden was waiting for me when I moved in. Garden? What was I to do with it? And that nasty old husband of Bobbi Jo's who died in his mistress's bed, his hateful mother who took Bobbi Jo's house and poor Bobbi Jo was left with an old ugly house and a beat up old pickup truck. Read it and find out just what happened to Bobbi Jo. Remember, the titles may be different. But you'll know Bobbi Jo when you meet her.

OK, I've rattled enough for my first blog. Y'all come sit a spell and join me from time to time. I'd love hearing from you. And I promise not to rattle this long again. I'm new at this.

Dee