Wednesday, December 11, 2019

WEP - Footprints

The novel finally published.
I found a new WEP challenge.
But no matter what was tried.
my mind was fried.
So I went for a walk on the beach.
Hoping for inspiration and peace.
The sky was very blue.
The ocean too.
Clouds floated silently by.
Overhead the seagulls flew high.
My thoughts wandered
As I pondered and pondered.
With no success.
My ability to concentrate was a mess.
Frustrated and blank.
My hope to participate sank.
Inspiration via nature had failed.
All dreams and schemes had sailed
No matter the number of prints in the sand.
I’ve no story of love or murder at hand.
So, I hope you won’t care.
That I’ve only two silly little poems to share.


What if you only got one chance at love?
 Is it your choice or your heart's choice?

Imprint of Love

Chivalrous, my first impression of you.
It didn’t hurt that tall, dark, and handsome fit too.
Our connection felt real.
A true match the deal.
My heart was bound after that first date.
The truth I learned came too late.
We were more than compatible
But your lie was unsurmountable
While the relationship was ideal for you.
Love takes two.
My heart shattered, and my folly upended.
With a shrug, your goodbye was rendered.
Unrequited affection the worst anguish of all.
Because despite my correction.
My heart had permanently defected.
For one love, this life was granted.

Yolanda Renée © 2019

Happy Holidays!

Hi, everyone!

     I wanted to participate sooner, but things just never worked out. Why have I been away for so long? There are many reasons, but the best reason has to do with the complete remodel of our new condo. We got a great deal on an oceanfront view but had to take it down to the studs because everything in it was original to the mid-1980s. Doing so gave us a chance to make it our own, and what fun. Frustration, to the maximum, don’t get me wrong, but now, well, it’s perfect. We’re thrilled and finally enjoying our new home.

        I also finished Murder, Just Because. The 5th book in the Detective Quaid saga. It’s a brutal book, but I hope one where evil is balanced out by the love story.  The monster in this book, despite my reluctance to write him, made his voice heard. If you abhor extreme violence this isn't the book for you, love story or not!

         Hopefully, I'll move on to lighter, more fun subjects. In fact, if it’s possible, I want to write a more humorous book for the next Quaid story. Surely there’s a way to make murder fun/ny? We’ll see.

         I’ve made no goals for 2020 yet. I’m still working them out. An open book for sure—the fun will be in seeing what fills the page.

Thursday, December 5, 2019



Stowy’s new home, an A-frame chalet reminiscent of houses on an alpine slope, was replete with lovely exposed beams, a distinctive wiggle board treatment, and fanciful railings on the deck. Its expansive picture windows provided breathtaking panoramic views of the picturesque valley, and its open floor plan could’ve easily sprung from the glossy pages of a modern design magazine. But that was all for show. Nothing more than selling points to make any Realtor swoon. Stowy didn’t care about any of those things, because his real living area was underground. In the basement. Away from prying eyes.

And now that he was situated in his new base of operations, Stowy wasn’t going to wait any longer. He’d been fighting his natural urges ever since the escape, but no more. He had to do it. Had to. He needed it. Like a junkie without a fix, his skin was crawling with need.

He had to kill.

He felt safe. Cocky, even. Thanks to those Snowman-like murders Zeke committed, any blood Stowy shed now would just be chalked up to the copycat, that is, if he were sloppy enough. Who else would the idiots blame? After all, the whole world believed the real Snowman died in the explosion.

“Time to feed the beast,” he crowed as he loaded his kill bag.