Ok, so the real reason I wrote all those posts was so I could share this story. This is the true story and happened in about 1995, I think it was. But you wouldn’t have understood this story without the others to build up to it. I promise, it wouldn’t have held the same power, and you wouldn’t feel the danger. When I want to write a story which has our heroine furious beyond measure, it’s these emotions I’m drawing on.
In the Air Force they have special leadership training programs where you are sent to attend classes on how to become a better leader. In my case, for NCO Academy, I was sent to McGuire AFB NJ. A nice little hole in the wall base with not all that much to offer, except a nice flight line, known for handling a lot of overseas flights. The school housed the residents in “Billeting”, the military version of a hotel, complete with maid service. Our particular building was an old dormitory with the communal showers and small rooms, but at least we didn’t have room mates.
Our class was there for the 4th of July holiday, and we voted to be in class on the 4th, which was Thursday, so we could have a three day weekend, and take Friday off. I, for the life of me, can’t remember what we did that 4th of July night, but I remember I went to bed late. I think I’d visited with a long time friend and watched fireworks with her, and then drove back to the base. Now as you can tell, I love to get a lot of sleep, and I hate mornings, so this Friday I planned to sleep until at least noon. I dropped my jeans on the foot of the bed, and climbed into bed with a t-shirt and underwear on, and fell sound asleep.
About 8 am I heard a commotion in the hallway. Women’s voices shouting and doors slamming. It didn’t take me long to realize it was maid service. Now I know I said this was a military version of a hotel, but there were no “clean the room now” tags or “Do not disturb” tags on the doorknobs for us to put out, so I figured when they got to me, I’d just shout out “I’m sleeping, go away”, and they’d leave me alone. But of course, the ladies room called, so I rolled out of bed and into my jeans, stumbled to the bathroom, then came back, rolled back into bed, and threw the pillow back over my head. The noises continued, growing closer and louder, my fury climbing higher with every door slam and shout down the hall. At last the knock came.
“I’m sleeping, go away” I shouted.
“But we want to change the sheets.”
The lady must have gotten the message as I heard her at the next room. A few minutes later, Head Maid shouted down the hall “What about that room?” apparently pointing at mine.
The voice who’d wanted to change the sheets answered “She says she’s sleeping.”
It was then Head Maid made her fatal mistake.
“She better get her butt out of that bed.”
Oh I did, all right. I rolled right out of that bed. My feet hit the floor just as she hit the door with her knuckles for the first knock. She never hit it a second time. I threw the door open and it bounced off the wall. I stormed forward. In true Italian fashion, I threw my hand into the air to accentuate every word.
“Who the hell do you think you are? NOBODY tells me to get my butt out of bed without my permission!” The woman steps back, her eyes wide. I”m sure it’s those glowy eyes of mine that did it. You know, there’s a reason I write shifters. I wonder if I grew fangs at that moment too. “You’re a freakin’ maid for God’s sake. Maid service doesn’t tell hotel guests when to get out of bed under any circumstances. I SAID I was sleeping!” Don’t get me wrong. I wasn’t putting her down for being a maid. It was because she didn’t abide by proper hotel maid procedures.
At this point I notice all of the other tenants standing in the hall, all wearing their bathrobes or in some sad state of undress, as they too had been sleeping. Momma bear poked her head out. I wasn’t the only one disturbed. What would have been a simple volatile second became a secondary explosion .
“I saw you go to the bathroom wearing jeans. I knew you were awake.”
“You know nothing. It’s none of your business what I wear the to the bathroom, or to my bed. You are maid service. You are not my boss. You are not my commanding officer. You,” I shouted, again, gesturing wildly, “stormed into this hallway, woke up every single guest, shouted enough to wake every blasted one of them, and then try to order me out of my bed. Just who do you think you are?”
Her mouth gaped like a fish. I was on a roll!
“It’s Friday, you should be at work!”
“Right. It’s Friday. It’s our day off. But you wouldn’t know that, would you? Because that doesn’t matter. If someone says they are in bed, you don’t get them up! You come back later. Do you think we’re stupid or something? Didn’t it seem strange to you that every damned room had a woman asleep in it? Do you think we’d be working in our bathrobes?”
“I”m just doing my job!”
“No. You’re not. Your waking people up, and THAT is not your job!” I spun, stormed back into the room and slammed the door so hard, I’m sure it reverberated up to the third floor. I grabbed my shoes, and my keys and stormed back out. I didn’t brush my hair or teeth. One of the maids was standing there, still in shock. Girls were at the other end of the hall gossiping. A couple came up to try to calm me down. By now, I was calm, but furious. A dead cold glare stared at the Head Maid as they spoke to me.
“We were all sleeping too,” one of the girls commiserated. “And I’m your witness.” At the time I didn’t understand what she meant by that.
I turned to the cowering younger maid. “Where’s the main office? I need to file a complaint.” She gave me the building number, and the girl at my side said “wait, I’ll go with you.” That helped to calm me some, but the cold fury still sat there, waiting to explode again. We went to the main office where I filed my complaint, stating my opinion that this woman should not ever work for them again. Then they let me use their phone.
My poor husband. He was planning to sleep in that day too. Good thing he wakes up better than I do, because he got an earful. But wonderful man that he is, he knows exactly how to handle me when the sleep disturbed fury arrives. He let me spout off, and agreed with me, and then finally joked until I laughed. God, I love that man. He knows me so well!
Later, I heard the rumor was that when I opened the door, I hit her, thus the witness comment. Then the rumor was I almost hit her, and that’s why they didn’t fire her, but instead moved her to another building, telling her not to step into our building so long as I was still there. Funny. I never even thought about hitting her. Dang. I missed my chance, I guess, since everyone thought I did and I didn’t even get into trouble!
The funny thing about the entire thing was my class responded. The men in my group suddenly looked at me totally different. I wasn’t the sweet, quiet little girl they thought I was. I was class leader because I outranked them. Up until then I received cursory respect. It’s not like class leader really does much. But afterward, I was treated as though I were a Queen. Funny how men respect a woman who stands up for herself, even if he nicknames her A Bitch. I even got invited to the “Let’s make homemade beer” party, which I graciously declined. Hey, I like being respected, but I don’t like getting poisoned!
But you know what? That bitchiness works really well in my books, don’t you think? When my heroine charges after the villain, she’s allowed to do a little violence. I like that. I get all my anger out at Head Maid right then and there. Maybe… Maybe one day I’ll write her into a book. Wouldn’t that be fun?
So now you know my deep, dark secret. Yes, all of these stories are more than 15 years old. I’ve got a little more “control” these days, thank heaven. :blink: People now only see the slightly grump me. Just remember, if you ever see my eyes glowing (Or glowering), it doesn’t mean I’m mad at you. It means I”m half asleep. Don’t take anything personal and we’ll get along fine.
The thing is, I really don’t get mad like this often. It once took me three years to finally blow up at someone who was a thorn in my side every day. Also, my husband, as I said earlier, has made it his mission to teach me control when I first get up. He’s done a great job! He calls me “Witchy” when I give him “The look”. Or if I say things in “The tone” right after I get up. He laughs as he says it, so I know he’s only making me aware of what I’m doing. Funny thing is, when he says it, I’m usually not in a bad mood. I think it’s just that I’m tired and my tone or expression is still asleep. Remember how I used to wake up slowly as a kid? I still do that, just as an adult I can’t go sit over the heater and nap. I now have a double alarm.
My shifters are like that deep part of me, the part so few people have seen. They have no political correctness aspirations. They say what they think. They act as how they want. If they are angry, you know it. Their glowy eyes will always tell you. They don’t have to have been interrupted in their sleep to show these tempers. They let them free when they feel it’s necessary. In true animalistic form they correct, and then forgive.
Often people ask me what is the appeal of the shifter? They are natural. They don’t hide behind niceties. They are themselves and make no apologies for who and what they are. For me, the only time I’m a natural is when you first wake me up. Before that political correctness slides over me, before all my training about courtesy and caring wakes up. So I guess that makes me wonder – would I be like this all the time had I not been taught by humans? And would I make a more effective leader if I were more like my shifters all the time? Things that make you go Hmmm.
Remember, when you read my books, you can almost hear my shifters saying “You wouldn’t like me when I’m angry.”
Hey folks! You’re back? I guess your curiosity is getting the best of you. Can Teresa REALLY get that mad? Sure I can. Remember, I’m Irish and Italian as my biggest “chunks” of background. I even use my hands like an Italian when I get mad! (That story will be story #4).
One thing I was really good at when I was in the military was protecting the troops who worked with me. Especially the younger ones. I hated to see them treated with disrespect, or ignored because they didn’t have enough stripes on their shoulders. In fact, once I had words with my flight commander for too much sex talk, not because it bothered me, but because when I walked in and overheard the conversation, the other woman there, a young airman, was sitting there with her face beat red. She couldn’t wait to get off work and get out of there. Things like that bother me, and I’ll stand up for them every time. In fact, the only time sleep wasn’t an issue when I got really angry was because of the way someone treated people in our unit. I’m like a mother bear when it comes to these young airmen, ready to protect when necessary. Luckily I only had to go off on two NCO’s in my time over that. One shall remain secret. The other I shall share here.
Today’s story is one of the few negative memories I have of being in Egypt. Let me start from the beginning, because, well, that’s probably where this whole thing started.
My boss wanted me to play war games again. And when I say again, I mean AGAIN. As in for the 8th time in 3 years. I’m all good and dandy about wartime training, but it really was someone else’s turn. The on and off gas mask was enough to drive a sane woman to drink, but after 8 times I was about ready to say just “Gas me! Please!”. He says “You can go play games or you can go to Egypt.” Now this just proves how little this man knew me. I love Egypt! I have always loved Egypt. My fascination started when I was 8, and I received my great grandmother’s necklace, made probably about the time King Tut’s tomb was found. It’s just a terrible piece of forged artwork, but hey, it was mine, and it was about Egypt, and I loved it.
I responded with enthusiasm! “Send me to Egypt! PLEASE!” And so he did.
On the way there another TSgt and I hit it off, and we decided if they let us, we’d share a room when we got there. See, we started off staying in a hotel (across from the pyramids! How good does it get?) This was a big mistake. See, I worked nights and she worked days. That wouldn’t seem bad, except she worked only 3 days a week. So the other 4 she sat in our room, chatting on the phone, blasting the tv, or whatever. Sleep was a foreign thing during this period, and I tried very hard to be a good girl and not get mad. See, my husband by this time had made it his mission in life to teach me control when I was tired. He’d bump the bed just to see how long it took me to snap. With time and practice, I learned to hold my temper. So, I did just that. I held my temper.
After a month or so in the hotels, we got moved to “Tent city”. Now if you’ve never seen a military encampment, think of those old camp movies, where everyone slept in beds lined up on each wall, except we were in a tent. My cot was in the far corner, and my former roommates was in the other end. (Halleluiah for small favors). There were 16 of us in the tent, I think. Maybe 14, I don’t remember for sure.
All of us were NCO’s except one girl. An E-2 (Airman first class) was in the middle cot on the same side as me. I dont’ remember what she did, but she’d come back to the tent totally exhausted. She’d fall into bed and not move for the next 8 hours. I felt sorry for her, while at the same time I admired her ability to survive. This one particular evening she’d been so tired she’d gone to bed without dinner.
After dinner my former roommate came in, and turned on the overhead light. Me, I’d been sitting in my little corner, with my own little light, reading a book. This NCO then proceeded to make alot of noise, and then at last settled onto her cot, the bright overhead lights still on. I went over and asked her if she needed the light anymore, she said no. So I turned it off, went back to my cot and continued reading my book.
A few minutes later she storms over and says “I thought you were going to sleep.”
“No, But she is.” I pointed to the illustrious airman.
“IF she wants the light off, she can tell me herself.”
I calmly exited my cot, and moved right up to her, face to face, and in Mother bear fashion, whispered so as not to wake our sleeping child. “I already know you have no respect for those sleeping after sharing a room with you. She is a young Airman. Do you REALLY think she’s going to look you in the face and order you to turn off the damned light? You are an NCO in the US Air Force. Act like it.” Her eyes grew wide and she stepped back. I didn’t raise my voice. I didn’t have to. Again, there must be something about my eyes when I get angry. Maybe they start to glow like my shifters or something. Because when I get angry, and let it show, no matter how loud or soft, people back off. FAST. She stormed out, and never met my eyes again. Oh, and she never left the light on after dark if someone was sleeping either.
Funny though. When I think back on Egypt, and even living in Tent city, I loved every other moment of it. It’s the start of me wanting to write, because I ran out of books to read there. We had this kewl little book swap table, and while most of the people there were male, I got alot of books to read. I had brought a bunch of sci fi books, and so had someone else. I also had brought some thrillers. So had someone else. I read a book a day in those 4 months. Even the days I got to go to the pyramid, or to the National Museum (which to this day is my greatest memory of my military service). But I had a standing joke that if I read one more murder mystery the twitch in my hand would grow a knife and I’d plunge it into someone myself. Seriously, somebody there had someone at home sending a steady diet of murder mysteries, and whoever he/she was, we both enjoyed them.
So anyway, She didn’t like me when I was angry. But you’ll see there was progress here! I didn’t yell at her when she woke me up. I only went after her when she woke someone ELSE up. Wierd how we grow, isn’t it? Uh oh, Jen. Better not let anyone wake you up at Authors After Dark. I might get really mad! LOL.
I interrupt our regularly scheduled program to bring you this rant.
Yep, this time Warner Brothers has gone too far. I mean it. I’ve watched some very special television programs of the 60′s, 70′s and 80′s belittled to the masses when they turn them into comedies. The primary purpose behind the shows are lost to slapstick and jokes. The message of the creator is lost.
When Dukes of Hazzard came out, I wasn’t so worried cuz, well, Dukes WAS a comedy. But it wasn’t stupid comedy, but hey, can’t have everything when they do the remake, right? I refused to watch it, because they pushed the comedy over into stupid, but it didn’t bother me.
Then Charlie’s Angels came out as a movie. Now Charlie’s Angels wasn’t a comedy. It’s primary goal was to put women on the front lines of the battle against cop and villain. It was great. It brought women forward in a time when people were still shocked that women might want to have a career at all, much less be a cop. Yes it was fun, but it wasn’t all fun. It was also not a comedy. Now I’ve seen the first one of this, and I found it downright stupid. Stupid really does kinda bother me, especially when the show had a purpose initially. I found it distasteful.
Then, came 21 Jump Street, which initially starred Johnny Depp. This was not a comedy either. The purpose behind 21 Jump street was to focus on Youth Crime. I loved 21 Jump street, and I hate to say it, it’s one of the few movies other than the Pirates of the Caribbean, where I LIKED Johnny Depp. Yeah I know. I’m in the minority, but I”m just not into skinny rail guys.
The Avengers – Another very serious television show made a parody. I watched part of it, and got disgusted, so turned it off.
The A-Team was remade. I wasn’t thrilled with it, but it wasn’t too bad. At least that was already part comedy, so the parody part was only slightly over the top.
Dragnet was remade, taken from a totally serious television show to something resembling a blues brothers film.
Land of the Lost was a semi sweet kids movie turned into a more adult “Parody”. I found it pretty ridiculous, and had I been alone, would have walked out of the theater.
It’s not so much that they are making comedies, and I’m not big into comedies, but I am. In fact, I refused to go see One For the Money, because it looked like it was nothing more than a joke, and yes, I hear it was not very good.
So now they’ve just gone too far. They now intend to turn Dark Shadows into a movie. Now that’s been done multiple times as people try to capture the audience who grew up on this show, only they haven’t gotten it quite right yet. They haven’t gotten the right atmosphere, the right actors, or the right script, but at least they have treated the original show with respect. Kate Jackson not only started out with Dark Shadows but also played in Charlie’s Angels before moving into movies and such. But the thing is, this new version of Dark Shadows is…. you guessed it, a comedy.
I’m sorry but I find this offensive. It’s like movie makers are targeting the generation who grew up on these movies and is trying to prove we’re stupid, and incapable of making quality entertainment. “Oh, you haven’t heard of Dark Shadows? Let me make a movie so you can see how stupid it was.”
Yeah, it was lousy acting. It was lousy set design, and terrible filming. After all, back then soaps were filmed in basements or garages. Even with the terrible production, this show has continued to keep it’s cult following for over 40 years. Why? Because of the writing. Because of the story. For it’s time it was tremendously fresh and exciting. That was the case of most of these tv shows. They were on the cutting edge of society, starting something new (Ok, A Team didn’t, but hey, they can’t all be like that).
I guess I’m missing the gene that appreciates it when people make fun of how I was raised. A time when people had morals, and crime was something you rarely saw. A time when tv addressed issues and people talked about it the next day, and those issues were the advancement of women, stopping crime, and how sexy that vampire was. OK, we all know he wasn’t really sexy. And that wasn’t really an issue either. LOL. But to this day, if I flip through channels and find the original Dark Shadows actors on, I stop and watch. Years ago, I found the entire series on vhs, and I rented each and every one of them, watching the series from the beginning, to almost to the end.
Why can’t they make these remakes something serious? Like they did with say, Mission Impossible, or The Fugitive? Those are based on tv series that had the same intensity, and did extremely well as remakes. Personally, I’d be happy if they completely deleted the attempt of making Barnabus Collins a slap fest, and remake shows like Charlie’s Angels seriously!
I guess I shouldn’t get frustrated by it, but I won’t be going to see the new Dark Shadows. I guess the true fans of the show aren’t the target audience. Dark Shadows, though, was the beginning of what we see in romance today. Paranormal Romance. It’s because of Dark Shadows we have authors like Christine Feehan, Lynsay Sands, Sherrilyn Kenyon, JR Ward, and many more (myself included). Without Dark Shadows no one would think such characters could be broken heroes who we hope wins the day. There would be no “sexy” werewolves. There would be no “Sexy” vamps. I never found Barnabus “sexy”, but I did feel sorry for him, and I felt sorry for the werewolves too.
While those who never saw this original show will probably enjoy this lighthearted look at a classic, but for me, I’d be looking for Jonathan Frid, Joan Bennet, and even Kate Jackson.
Hi guys. Hope you enjoyed yesterday’s little story of waking me from a deep sleep and what can happen. I position this one here, not because it isn’t violent, but because, though it has affected my life for the last 25 years, I really think what happened here was a good thing. Kinda.
When I married, I warned my husband that I can be quite irritable when disturbed from a dead sleep. He nodded, and said he understood. He seemed to, because in the mornings when he had to go to work before me, he was terribly quiet, tip toeing through the house, careful not to make a single sound. We lived in Nebraska and had a couple dogs. They were about six months old at the time, and anyone who knows me KNOWS how much I love my dogs. They are my children, though their life cycle is a bit shorter. I cuddle them and train them, and talk to them. It’s where I get my knowledge for my shifter books from. Their examples are often seen within my books.
So this one morning, I must have been off work, one of the dogs decided she wanted to go out. She walked to my side of the bed, and gave me a huge lick, from chin to forehead. Now let me first say – I hate getting licked in the face. But Beauty was one of those dogs who refused to accept no when it came to “kisses”. Anyway, when she did this I was in a dead sleep. I struck out and apparently hit her. I don’t know, I don’t remember. My husband later talked to me about it.
“I knew you said you were irritable if woken up, but I didn’t think that meant with the dogs too!”
I stared at him in shock and said “Do you really think I was aware of what I did?”
See, that comes with the territory too, conversations I don’t remember having, walking in my sleep, talking in my sleep. Some day I’ll share those stories too. They are even more hilarious!
So anyway, how did this change my life? Well, it’s now 25 years later, and in that 25 years, not one single dog in our household has EVER woke me up by kissing me in the face again. Seriously! They do wake me up, but they find more subtle, gentle ways to awaken me. I don’t know how she did it, but she managed to impress upon other dogs, who impressed upon the next generation, and so on and so on, until I have gone 25 years without a dog kissing me when I was asleep!
Now don’t get me wrong. They do wake me up. But my dogs are quite ingenious on how they do it. Most of them get on the bed with me and snuggle closer and closer and closer until it’s either fall off the bed or get up. LOL. But one was so danged original I feared for his life.
Ace is a mixed breed. Mixed with Chow, Belgian Sheepdog, and perhaps some Siberian thrown in there. He’s a beautiful dog, thin, dark coated, big beautiful belgian eyes, and a curious and innovative personality. One day he came to awaken me. He must have needed to go out, I don’t remember. I was already awake when he came in, but he didn’t know that, though he may have suspected. He jumped on the bed, which for such a large dog, he’s exceptionally lightfooted. I was laying on my back, and he stepped up, placing his muzzle in direct contact with my eye! He stayed there for a full minute, breathing on my eye!
I froze, trying desperately not to laugh or move. I was so scared if he ever did that when I was REALLY Sleeping, I might do something to hurt him, so I didn’t let on that I was awake. At last he gave up, and with a sigh of resignation, jumped down and left the room. I can honestly tell you after he left the room, I laughed until the bed shook. Imagine the ingenuity that took!
So yeah, poor Beauty took the brunt of my anger one day, but here we are 25 years later, with 2 dogs who never knew her, who still abide by her command: Don’t you dare wake up momma!
But yes, this is why when I share a room with someone, I tell them if they need to wake me up, throw a towel or something at me, just in case I come up swinging.
But never fear, Jen, I promise, I haven’t hit anyone since 25 years ago. Though if you continue to read on, you might rethink wanting to room with me at Authors After Dark. But never fear, Jodi Henley has roomed with me twice at RWA Nationals, so I’m pretty sure we’re safe. I didn’t even throw a pillow at her when she snored!
BTW, Happy St. Paddy’s day everyone! Yes, I’m part Irish, and have fun with this every year. The Leprechauns are watching today, so make sure you wear your green!
So I’ve been doing these little “series” posts recently, mostly because I find it hard to come up with blog topics. I have a boring life, you know. I work, I write, I eat and I sleep. At least, that’s what it feels like. LOL
The other day I came downstairs and hubby was watching the first “The Hulk” movie on tv. I caught the last 5 minutes, which of course ends with the line: “You wouldn’t like me when I’m angry.” I laugh when I hear that, because I used to say that alot in my first few years in the military. And it’s true. You really wouldn’t like me when I’m angry. But the thing is, it takes an awful lot to make me angry. When I think back over my life to date, there’s only one thing that you can do that’s a sure fire way to make me angry. I can think of several instances where this one situation has made me angry, at all levels, from casually irritated to almost violently furious. Might I add, this same thing can happen today, but the only people who get me to the violent furious part would be someone I don’t respect. I’m basically a nice person, and the more I respect you, the more I can tolerate. But before you read this and run tearing off into the darkness, as far away from me as you can, remember that those who did this all deserved what they got. Well, except one.
So what is it that makes me so angry?
Disturbing my sleep!
You got it. If you ever want to see me angry, just wake me up when I’m not expecting it. I come by this problem naturally. You see, I’m a night person. My brothers are also night people, though I think they’ve adapted to days even better than I. My grandfather was such a night person he was put out of the Navy after only 17 days, because he couldn’t sleep during the night and was falling apart due to lack of rest. When the internet first came along, my husband would hear me on the keyboard, tap tap tapping away, and he’d come in, and find me in full chat with both of my brothers. After all, who else would be awake at 2 am? I managed 20 years in the US Air Force without seriously damaging anyone for awakening me mostly by volunteering for night shift. The only problem with that was it left a lot of room for non military, or people in the dorms to get themselves in trouble with me.
I’ve always been a heavy sleeper. Back in the day, my Dad would wake me up for school a full hour before I had to leave. I’d get out of bed, walk to the heater (especially in the winter), take my nightgown and then hunch into it, and let the heat warm me up, and I’d go back to sleep. See, if I slept in the bed, I’d never get up. At least this way I was just napping. :D I remember once seeing an old Dagwood comic where he wakes up to the sound of his alarm, and slams his fist into it, then goes back to sleep. Blondie says “But it’s Saturday.” He says “Yes, but I always wanted to be able to do that just once.” LOL That’s me. When I first went into the military I used to sleep thru my alarms, so I got one of those baby bens. I think I actually once threw it across the room. Everyone who knows me knows – don’t talk to Teresa before 10 am. Just don’t do it! It’s not worth what I’ll say. See, I have no control when I’m tired. What comes out of my mouth is totally uncensored, and therefore, can be very dangerous. Imagine taking the most sweet, and politically correct person you know (that would be me) and removing all political correctness. Remove all restraints upon her anger. (Wait, I think I’m describing a shifter!) And then interrupt her sleep! YIKES! It’s a full blown SheWolf without the wolf!
Since we authors delve into our own selves to create emotions within our books, I thought I’d share a few stories with you this week, from the mildest to the most “aggressive” fury. All caused by disturbing of someone’s sleep (One wasn’t even about me). Sit back, and learn the first REAL “You wouldn’t like me when I’m angry”. LOL (Maybe next week we’ll concentrate on what makes me happy, though those stories aren’t as much fun to share.)
So Story number 1 goes back to the days of before I was married. I was stationed in Alabama, and lived in a mobile home (My own mobile home that I’d bought with my very own money long before I was technically ready). The park I was in wasn’t all that nice, but it was some distance from town and rather small, so I figured it would be better than one of the “tightly squeezed” parks of the town of Montgomery. The only problem was, none of my neighbors had a phone. To this day I shake my head. How can you live 15 miles from town and not have a telephone? But they didn’t. And you know what that means. Knock Knock Knocking on Teresa’s door! I worked shift work, and that week was working Midnight to 8 am. And every day for three days straight, someone had awakened me to borrow the phone. I was so frustrated and tired of being nice, I posted this big huge note on my door: Knock at your own risk. Sleeping.
People who disturb others’ sleep on purpose, to me they are the most rude and obnoxious people around. Everyone in the park knew I worked nights, and I slept in the day. My best friend was the only person really allowed to wake me, because I knew she wouldn’t knock unless it was an emergency. SHE had some consideration for those of us who sleep in the day.
At the time, I had been out on a date with this one guy a few times. I don’t even remember his name, or who it was who introduced me, but we’d gone out to dinner one day and a movie the other. We had never even so much as held hands, meaning I wasn’t sure what I thought of him yet.
So my little note is on the door, and I crawl into bed about 9 am. I am exhausted, and fall right to sleep. About noon I hear someone at the door. I peek out the bedroom window. OMG, it’s the guy I went out on a few dates with. WTH? Ok, fine. I lay back down, intending to fully ignore him. Then he made a fatal mistake. He proved he knew I was asleep by coming to my window and knocking there. WHAT? You dare disturb my sleep ON PURPOSE? I was ready to explode. I rolled out of bed, and stomped to the front door, which by that time he’d managed to find himself at my front steps. I took a deep calming breath and yanked the door open and gave him my most sleep deprived glare (Which I hear can be very intimidating).
“What?” I demanded.
“I thought I’d come by and say hi.”
Now I have a great sense of humor at these moments, only I’m the only one who gets it, and well, since I’m tired, I never smile. So my internal response was: “Right. You really thought you’d come disturb my sleep, thinking I’d either snuggle up with you and doze off, or you’d find your way into my bed. NOT happening dude. “ I try to keep such thoughts to myself, so as not to be a total ass and for once was successful.
“I”m sleeping,” I growled The shock on his face was barely visible before I slammed the door, him still on the outside of it. Proud of myself for not saying what I really thought, I crawled back into bed, never to see his rather quirky face again. I guess I can thank him for that day. I don’t like to waste my time on people. Especially people who don’t respect my sleep. He showed me just how inconsiderate he was to wake me at my 2 am in the morning. I don’t knock on your door then, why do you knock on mine? The funny thing is, I remember the incident, but not the guy’s name. It’s okay though – He’s not missed.
Alas, this is one of the more calm events I’ve had due to sleep interruption. Yes, I warn everyone who I know – Don’t wake me up when I least expect it unless there’s a damned good reason!
I can see you folks now. The ones who’ve met me but never seen me at my worst. “No way! You’re always nice!” I am. Really! I’m the most politically correct person you’ll ever meet! I try not to hurt anyone’s feelings to the detriment sometimes of my own happiness. And when I do, inadvertently do something stupid, I feel terrible sometimes for years (or life). When I was at National conference last year, one of my roommates called me the “Pillow Princess.” LOL I love to curl up in my pillows and just let go. Now-a-days I have an excuse for it – I have a health issue that requires alot of rest. But back in the day of Mr wake me up for fun I was just being my normal, every day self. LOL.
So what is it that’s your big weakness? What makes you think “You wouldn’t like me when I’m angry?”
And stay tuned for our next installment. What did my HUSBAND think about this issue when we married?
TSgt D’Amario reporting as ordered, back from my terrifying first experience on Zart patrol! Zart, for all you who are unaware, stands for Zombie Attack Response Team. There’s a Zombie movement afoot, and they’re all heading to New Orleans just in time for the Authors After Dark conference! We can’t allow that. Zombies in the Big Easy? No, we’d be overcome! We have to stop them!
It was a chilly night, and at first very quiet. I walked the streets, my weapons in hand. I’d geared up with lots of sharp and pointy objects as well as hubby’s 1913 Czechoslovakian rifle. It was time to dust that baby off and let it see some real action again! I took my neighbor, Stephanie, along with me. She came armed with her own pack of sharp, pointy things. Four of which were attached to the biggest dog I ever saw! Ok, I’ve seen bigger, but a Great Dane is pretty danged impressive in the darkness. We walked and chatted, enjoying the chilly night, when out of the darkness comes an eerie moan. Joe Bob, the dog, growled low and menacing. I glanced at Stephanie and nodded. One thing I knew, if Joe Bob was growling, it was a real zombie.
We slipped between the houses, happy that this was one of the few without a privacy fence, and peeked into our neighbor’s backyard. There it was. He was tall, with the build of a god, his beautiful hair blew in the breeze. But that’s where the beauty ended! What once had been a promising Romance Cover Model had turned into a horrific and terrifying creature. His yellow eyes glowed in the darkness, and as he drew closer to the street light, we could see the disgusting vision of blood dripping from his forehead, and his arm fell off. And he was headed right for us!
Well we didn’t want Joe Bob to become zombified, so we ordered him to stay back, and Stephanie and I pulled out our blades. I’d swiped a Japanese Katana because the curve of the blade was comfortable in my hand. Stephanie opted for the Shokra. I guess she was afraid to get too close. Those suckers are pretty nice though, you can throw them, and they work like a boomerang, after first slicing through anything in their path. The creature stumbled toward us, drawn, I’m sure by the warm blood running in our veins. Thing is, I intended to keep it nice and warm. I charged, swinging my sword! Off went his one remaining arm. I was sure that would make this an easy fight, but I was wrong. He charged, undeterred, throwing his weight against me. I stumbled backward, unable to get a good swing with my kantra. I let it go, it landed on the ground with a thump followed by my own body. Before I could roll, the monster crashed down on me, knocking the breath out of me. I shoved one hand upward, trying to keep those disgusting teeth away from me. My other I snatched the knife out of his brain. It came out with a disgusting squish, but I shoved it in again. If you’ve never stabbed someone, let me tell ya, it’s not a fun thing, but I slammed it with all my might.
Rancid blood dripped on me, and I breathed a sigh of relief. My Chem suit from my military days was holding up well. My relief didn’t last long, however, as teeth snapped at me. He was strong for a dead guy, and I just knew I was about to lose my life when suddenly a chockra spun out of no where, slicing off his head! Blood went everywhere, but I jumped up and only a little landed on me. I dug in my pockets, ignoring the building panic. Zombie Blood. OMG, I had zombie blood on me! I Had to get it off! I finally grasped the wet ones I’d tucked into a pocket for just such an emergency. I tore the package open with trembling fingers as Stephanie gathered up our weapons. Miss calm, cool and collected didn’t let anything bother her!
I scrubbed my hands and face, knowing if I didn’t get the nasty stuff off me, I’d be a walking zombie myself.
“That,” she said, brandishing her Chokra,” is why I carry one of these.”
“Ha ha, very funny. I guess next we have to clean this mess up.”
Stephanie smirked at me, and poured the gasoline over the body and dropped a match. The flames erupted, engulfing the body in mere seconds. We waited until he was nothing more than a charred mess.
“One down, more to go,” said Stephanie. ”Next time, use that damned gun, it’s what it’s there for!”
So that’s my report ladies and gents. For a full Zombie Apocalypse Response Team roster visit http://www.facebook.com/the.real.tjmichaels?sk=app_203351739677351
For more information on today’s ZART contest, visit http://www.tjmichaels.com/2012/03
We’ll be waiting!
For What it’s worth I’m guestblogging over at www.fwiwreviews.net, and telling a few secrets about Lone Wolf! Come drop by and say hi! And keep your eyes peeled, I’m headed out tonight for a #ZART assignment. I’m going to be hunting down some of those Zombies that hide in the dark of the night! And let me share this beautiful cover with you guys again. Cuz I just can’t help myself.
Ok, I’ll be honest, it’s the re-release date for Lone Wolf! For those who didn’t get to catch it the few months it was available, Lone Wolf is coming back! With one added scene and a bit more editing, Lone Wolf will be available for you to read on 27 March! That’s right! So send out the word! Whisper it to your best friends – Lone Wolf is coming before the Zombie Apocalypse! Hurry and get your copy before the Zombies eat your e-readers!! Lone Wolf will be available on Kindle, PDF, and B&N sites and more at smashwords, so get ready! And to celebrate this amazing event, we’re going to have a few prizes given out, but first, let me introduce you to this WONDERFUL cover *gives the Vanna White motion*. Isn’t it beautiful? Now there’s a handsome and sexy couple, but don’t forget there’s some handsome and sexy werewolves in this – and on top of that, there’s more of the Maxey Wizard hunks, uh, I mean brothers.
Isn’t this exciting??? And Damon, he holds his own against the powerful Maxey Wizard brothers, even to the point of standing between them and their sister! How kewl is that?
Of course you can’t talk about the great authors of the 20th century without talking about Nora Roberts. Nora has been a mainstay in the romance genre for so long she’s like a staple. Now I will be honest, I’m not a humongous Nora Roberts fan. That doesn’t mean I’m not a fan. Of course I read her books. I don’t read everything she puts out, but I do read her books. To me, they are that quick read I grab when I know I’m going to have about 2-3 hrs available and need to “refresh” my brain. (Yes, I read exceptionally fast). I can always count on Nora’s books to relax my mind and give me that 3 hour “vacation” I might need so desperately. While I Don’t consider her books to be the most emotional, they are good for bringing a tear to my eye, and to let the hero and heroine step into their new worlds and overcome together. They are a celebration of what I was looking for back when I took that Love In Literature class. A celebration of love and life, and what you can do together, as a couple. I especially like her trilogies, where we can visit the same “world” in more than one book.
I don’t have any special stories about how I found Nora, she just “is”. I can’t remember my first “Nora” book. I Can’t choose a favorite. Nora is such a part of life as a romance reader and author, she just “exists” the same way bread and water exist. The same way my morning bowl of cereal exists. She just is. There aren’t too many strangers in my life that I feel that way about. She’s a force of nature, changing the romance genre to fit her image and paving the way for hundreds and thousands of other authors. In fact, I actually chose a pen name because of Nora. My last name is too close to Roberts. I was afraid nobody would ever read my books if they ever made it to a book store, because they’d either ignore me because I wasn’t Nora, or they’d ignore me because they’d skip the R’s. LOL.
So I know you have read a Nora book. Which is your favorite? Or are you like me, and unable to chose a favorite?