My World Improvement Project is RELAY FOR LIFE
Celebrate.Remember.Fight Back.
The American Cancer Society Relay For Life is a life-changing event that gives everyone in communities across the globe a chance to Celebrate the lives of people who have battled cancer, Remember loved ones lost, and Fight Back against the disease.Each year, more than 4 million people in over 20 countries take part in this global phenomenon and raise much-needed funds and awareness to save lives from cancer.
Blurb
Scary Modsters… and Creepy
Freaks
A fantastical romance involving a girl, the music that
fuels her, and her Ouija board.
Rosalyn possesses a sunny
personality that is laced with quirks. Although she seeks acceptance in a world
where she lives out of time, what she gets is ridiculed for her eclectic
wardrobe and unconventional music collection.
One fateful night, Rosalyn
bewitches Niles, a stylish man whose offbeat character perfectly complements
her own. Unfortunately, he possesses a critical flaw that means relationship
suicide for him and pretty much anyone.
While under the influence of
insomnia-impaired judgment, Rosalyn summons Rock ‘n Roll deity Peter Lane back
from the dead. Not only does he spin her hormones into a frenzy, Peter is also
the precarious puzzle piece that brings sense into her world. When Niles learns
that he can overcome his life-long challenge by helping Peter avenge his death,
how far will he go to secure Rosalyn’s heart?
Author Bio
Enjoying
San Francisco as a backdrop, the ghosts in Diane’s 150-year old Victorian home
augment the chorus in her head. With insomnia as their catalyst, these voices
have become multifarious characters that haunt her well into the sun’s crowning
hours, refusing to let go until they have manipulated her into succumbing to
their whims. Her experiences as an actress, business owner, artisan cake
designer, software project manager, Internet radio disc jockey, vintage rock n’
roll journalist/fangirl, and lover of dark and quirky personalities influence
her idiosyncratic writing.
Links
Excerpts
ROSALYN
A brunette, a raven-haired beauty, and a girl looking like a
peacock all walk into a bar. No, it's not a joke; it's my not-so-mundane life
that generally feels like the setup for a wisecrack.
No matter
how many times my friends and I claim we are going to do something new, every
Friday night we find our tushes planted at Mulligan's. However, today our
weekly Friday night venture truly seemed out of the cards since my friends were
originally too tired from their workweeks to consider anything short of
collapsing. When you are in your early thirties and single you should be
embracing life, not rotting on a sofa. Thus when my friends bailed I detoured
into Warped Records which is both a second home and how I envision my little
corner of Heaven. Some would call the smell of old album covers a dank stench,
but to me it's a musky perfume that seeps into my pores and comforts me with
the knowledge that no matter what fails me I always have my sanctuary.
Among the
bins of paradise and the blaring Siouxsie the perfect gem captured my gaze and
held it for ransom. Before me was a pair of eyes so unlike any other that they
were nearly indescribable.
Piercing?
No. That implies they shot through my skin and reached my heart; however, these
somehow reached my soul. Captivating? Again that was misleading. While they did
hold my attention they also kept me at bay. Perhaps haunting? Yes, they did
indeed haunt me. They also seemed to follow me to wherever I stood. A true
description was so elusive that the color wasn't easily defined. They were deep
blue, yet also flannel grey with a hint of green. In a certain light they
seemed black with specks of gold.
All of
these emotions and colors were brought forth by just one picture—a picture on
an album that had been slipped into plastic and unceremoniously tacked to the
wall, yet somehow it jumped out at me and begged for worship.
“Who are
those guys?” I asked Shane, the store's clerk. Shane's tight black pants, white
Split Enz T-shirt, black suspenders, and short, curly brown hair made him look
like a skinny, nineteen eighties teenager in a forty-something-year-olds body.
His hot pink English Beat button sold the outfit. In an odd way our obsessions make
us kindred spirits. It may be like we are third cousins, twice removed, but
kindred nonetheless.
“Not a
clue.” Shane absent-mindedly tapped a pencil on a note pad while his hazel eyes
sat on a ragged copy of Rolling Stone that was decades out of date. “How
is it you don't know? You're the super genius that no one can stump.” He
sighed, conceding to the call of duty. “I suppose you want me to halt my
important work and show it to you.”
“If it's
not too much of a bother to pull yourself away from that fascinating article on
INXS that is so old it will soon disintegrate, then yes, please. I would
appreciate your struggle of removing the tack for a lady.”
With the
flick of his wrist, Shane sent the magazine spinning across the counter. “Geez,
you practically live here so I thought you would be more at home yanking the
thing off yourself.”
“Glad to
see that chivalry is alive and well at Warped Records.”
The album
was presented with a bow. “Milady, as per your request.” Shane's smugness made
me grin. “Anyway, it arrived with some other records from a recent estate sale.
Rob seemed to know who they were.”
My eyes
honed in on the price tag. “Six dollars? That's a lot for a potentially crappy
band no one has heard of.”
Shane's
view floated from the magazine to the notepad. “Yep. Six bucks is what this
says. I hung it next to the two hundred dollar, Jagger-signed, Goat's Head
Soup to be funny.”
Four men,
who were partially obscured by a golden overlay of paisleys and swirls, stared
back at me. Their clothes were colorful, slightly Edwardian, and accented with
fur. It was all very fashionable for the nineteen sixty-eight copyright printed
on the back of the cover that held no liner notes. Three of the men felt so
insignificant that they were but mere blurs. All I noticed was the cute one
with the sandy blonde hair and magnetic eyes whose signature started with the
letter P.
My fingers glided over the autograph whose ink
felt as if it were luxurious azure velvet. It also gave off an energy that put
a beat in my head. What really caught my attention was a spot of what appeared
to be dried blood. When I touched it, a fuzz reminiscent of the thrill I get
when hearing a vintage guitar effects pedal vibrated through. I had to have
that album!
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Thank you, Shavana, for posting about Relay For Life. It's such a great cause! Also, thank you for joining me in this effort to make the world a better place. Cheers!
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