Will The Baby Ever Get Here? #April_The_Giraffe #RB4U @melissa_keir

Will The Baby Ever Get Here?

Welcome to another month and another post of randomness. I'm your host, Melissa Keir. Today, I want to talk about pregnancy! Nope... I'm not pregnant...April the Giraffe is!

The world has been waiting with bated breath and watching the live feed at the Animal Adventure Park to get a glimpse of April and her boyfriend? husband? mate? (what is the correct term??) Oliver....

Seriously, though who could blame them? This image is from their first meeting. It was truly a "love at first sight" romance! And April doesn't mind that Oliver is almost 10 years younger than her. They are a perfect pair!

Oh, you mean they aren't watching for April and Oliver's love story? Maybe then the romance between April and her caregivers! Ashley and April share a close bond. Many other zoo's have messaged and emailed the Animal Adventure Park asking about their training methods. 

Even though most pregnant women don't want anyone touching them or measuring their bellies, April loves to spend time with her caretakers. They bring treats and have girl times!

But really? People are waiting to see when April delivers! They want to catch a glimpse of the cute (albeit large- about 150 pounds and 6' tall at birth) baby. This is April's fourth calf, so she's been around the block with this birth thing...but even she can tell you that babies come when they want. It's been about a month that they've been watching but still no baby (as of March 3rd). But April, I can sympathize with you. I felt that way after about 32 weeks... would that baby ever come!

The Animal Adventure Park gives updates on April's condition and people love to watch her calf moving around inside. Again, serious sympathy pains! My son's feet were frequently pushing around my ribs. I can't imagine a hoof in the kidney!

But babies are a fact of life in the spring and April has given the world a way to come together! We love to see her each day and check on her progress. We cheer and celebrate each little milestone. And you can too!

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UClnQCgFa9lCBL-KXZMOoO9Q/live (live feed)

https://www.facebook.com/AnimalAdventurePark/ (Animal Adventure Park's FB page and updates)

There will be a baby naming contest once the baby gets here! I'm thinking something along the lines of a classic name like Melissa! Hey! It could work for a boy or a girl! 

You can even get April the Giraffe gear to support the park or plan your summer trip! Sadly, I'm going to wait to visit April. I have too many stories to write and while spending time with her is fun, it's been a drain on my writing! But I had to share! Who knows when you'll catch a glimpse of a new born giraffe, or an eagle hatching!

Until next month, 

Melissa Keir

www.melissakeir.com

Bring On The Thunder! —A blog post from romance author Renee Vincent

Photo courtesy of Unsplash.com

As crazy as it sounds, thunderstorms, to me, have a calming effect. I love the sound of the rumbling reverberation they're able to make when passing overhead. The power and might of that sound alone, especially when you can actually feel its vibrations, is an incredible force.

As long as I can recall, I've never been afraid of thunderstorms. Ever since I was little, I enjoyed watching the lightning streak across the sky. I remember as a child counting one one-thousand, two one-thousand, three one-thousand, and so on as soon as I saw a flash of lightning. I was told you could determine how close the storm was by the amount of time that passed before you heard the thunder. If it took three seconds from the time you saw the lightning to the moment you heard the thunder, it was roughly three miles away. I can't say for sure if this is actually true or not, but it certainly kept me occupied. I was too engrossed in "tracking" the thunderstorm to be "scared" of it.

Another thing I remember from my early childhood was my grandmother telling me there's nothing to be afraid of when it came to thunderstorms. She'd told me it was just Jesus bowling in Heaven against the angels. The rumbling thunder was their bowling ball rolling down the lane and the crash of lightning foretold of someone landing a strike. I remember mentally keeping score and wondering if Jesus would ultimately win.

Just writing this all out has me laughing at the crazy stories my family told me to keep me from being afraid or fretful of passing storms.

As a grown woman, I no longer believe Jesus is bowling when it's storming. But as an author, I've written about them. While my protagonists have never counted seconds between lightning strikes and thunder, or rooted for celestial beings in a heavenly game of bowling, I have enjoyed placing them in the throes of natures elements.

Here is an excerpt of The Fall of Rain, when my archaeologist hero, Leif Dægannsen, is trying to unearth an incredible find beneath his front porch in the midst of a thunderstorm. I hope you enjoy!

THE FALL OF RAIN

Emerald Isle Trilogy Book 3

Buy now at:

http://bit.ly/RainKindle

http://bit.ly/RainkNook

http://bit.ly/RainiBooks

http://bit.ly/RainKobo

http://bit.ly/RainSmash

http://bit.ly/RainARe

Present day, Ireland

Leif Dæganssen was soaked to the skin. The cool June rain beat on his back and thunder rolled across the heavens as he staked his shovel into the saturated ground outside his quaint Inis Mór cottage. Normally, he would never think of digging in the ground on such a terrible night. But every bone in his body urged him onward. Though he had no idea what he was looking for, his gut told him that something grand and unique might very well be hidden beneath his porch.

Leif was not a superstitious man. In fact, his livelihood as an archeologist never allowed him to consider supernatural practices. After years of schooling and countless, tedious digs, he believed only in things explainable through science, carbon dating, and the naked eye.

This was different.

He dug on a hunch, an innate feeling coursing through his veins. By rights, the rain should have slowed his progress, or, at least, made him think twice on the idiocy of this escapade. But the aching muscles in his back and arms from the extreme measures of cautionary excavation seemed to be fueled by the dousing of the Erin rain. The more it drenched his clothes, the more he scooped dark, sopping mud away from his lattice-enclosed porch.

Shovelful after careful shovelful, he dug away the soil, ignoring the long heavy sighs of his younger brother, Kristoff.

“How long are we going to be out here in this storm digging for worms, Leif?”

Leif paid him no attention. He concentrated on the depth of his ditch around the front of his house and the silent calculations he made in his head. The perimeter hole he had already dug was about a foot deep and he knew the topsoil would eventually give way to rock-solid limestone beneath. A few more inches—at max maybe a foot—and he’d find something.

He could feel it.

As sure as the rain dripped from every strand of hair in his face, he could feel his adrenaline rising at the thought of his shovel hitting something solid.

“Leif!” Kristoff yelled, jerking him by the arm. A flash of lightning ripped across the midnight sky. Both flinched at the heart-stopping crack and peered above.

Kristoff turned his attention back to Leif. “This is insane! We’re going to get killed out here!”

“Then go inside,” Leif snapped back. “I’m not quitting.”

“And I’m not letting you get struck by lightning over some stupid gut feeling!”

Leif squared his shoulders and leaned in close, the rain spitting like needles in his face. “I’m. Not. Stopping.” He staked his shovel deep in the ground. A low thud reverberated around them.

“Did you hear that?”

Kristoff looked at Leif skeptically. “I did…”

Leif’s face lit up brighter than the violent streak of lightning that passed overhead. “I told you I’d find something!” He dropped to his knees, throwing his gloves aside as he dug beneath the last bit of mud. Using as much caution as he could muster, he tore away handfuls of soil, feeling for the object his shovel had struck. Within seconds, his fingertips scraped against something solid.

“I feel it,” Leif uttered breathlessly. “It’s right here.” Like a dog pawing for its buried bone, he kept pulling away at the dirt until the top could be seen.

“Holy Halfdan Haroldsson,” Kristoff mumbled as he saw a distinct pagan carving come into view. As the rain washed it clean, a whole slew of carvings took form before his very eyes.

Leif glanced at Kristoff. “Now, do you believe me?”

“Hell yeah, I do! Come on, dig it out!”

Leif didn’t need his brother’s encouragement. For years, he had been trying to convince Kristoff that this Irish island was the home of their Norwegian ancestors. More importantly, that the house he had bought two years ago was likely sitting atop their settlement. He had no proof. Only a vibe he felt from the moment he stepped on the treeless island.

Until now.

Even in the dark of night, through the shroud of Ireland’s unmerciful rainfall, there was no mistaking the Scandinavian carvings on the wooden artifact. They were telltale coils of a history forgotten—instantly recognizable designs spiraling and twisting into a complex weave of creatures, demigods, and beasts.

To a pair of young archeologists, it was like striking gold.

“What is it?” Kristoff asked as he found its edge and began digging.

“I don’t know. Perhaps a shield…or a weather vane from a longship.”

“No,” Kristoff said, peeling hunks of mud away from the side. “It’s thicker than that. It’s…holy shit…it’s a…”

“It’s what?”

“I don’t know! It’s a…”

Words escaped them as their excitement vaulted in unearthing the sizeable object from its grave. Neither man was confident enough to say what they thought it could be, but one thing rang true. It was a large find—literally.

In the archeological world, antiquities, such as a small coin or even a glass bead, were significant discoveries. Most times, if one were found, it was purely by accident. Then, once the find was made public, archeologists from all walks of life would try to establish the site as historical and gather funding for a further, more intensive dig. Finding anything beyond the small artifact, takes months or even years of dedication and careful excavation with skillful hands.

Leif had found something substantial within a matter of minutes, and it was certainly nothing short of impressive. As he and Kristoff lifted the heavy, wooden relic from the muck and mire, they lost all sense of speaking. They stared at the highly decorated object. Their eyes traced every complex loop and spiral of the elaborate, dated designs.

This was no accident. This coffer had called to Leif—had beckoned him to buy this property. Though it proved nothing about his ancestors specifically settling here on this very spot, it did confirm that someone of Scandinavian descent had visited the isle. He was determined to find who and hopefully link them with his Norwegian descendents.

Gazing at the stunning carved box through the pelting rain, Kristoff broke the silence. “We’re going to be famous.”

Leif shot Kristoff a grave look. “No. We’re not telling a soul about this.”

“Are you out of your mind? Do you not know what this is?”

Leif disregarded his brother and took hold of the box, trying to stand in the slippery mud. All he wanted to do was take it inside and get it out of sight, but the blasted quagmire beneath him wouldn’t cooperate. He lost his footing and fell on his backside.

Leif let out a curse, and tried again.

“Here,” Kristoff said, thrusting out his hand. “Let me help you.”

Gasping a firm hold, Leif stepped out of the shallow ditch and made haste up the two meager steps of his front porch. As he suspected, Kristoff navigated past him and opened the door wide so he could pass through with ease.

Through the dark, he walked straight into the open space of the living room and into the adjoining kitchen, setting the object on the table. He could feel his heart hammering at the excitement of finally seeing his find under the blessing of light.

Stepping back, he reached for the light switch on the wall, pinching it between his fingers, unable to tear his eyes from the dark object displayed on the table. He heard Kristoff’s heavy footsteps approaching, but he didn’t have the strength to flip the switch.

“Turn it on already!” Kristoff demanded.

“Not yet.”

“What do you mean, not yet? Turn on the light.”

Leif studied his brother in the dark. “If I turn this light on, you must promise that what we see stays between us. No one is to know what we’ve found. And I mean no one.”

“Why?” Kristoff scorned. “We found something highly prized and we could—”

“We’re not going to tell a soul,” Leif instructed direly. “Think about it. If we reveal what we’ve found here tonight, this place will be swarming with media, treasure seekers, and museum enthusiasts. My home will no longer be mine and my life’s work will be ruined. I have spent countless hours tracing our ancestors to this very isle and this…this,” he said gesturing toward the table, “could very well be the missing link to finding my distant family. Please, Kristoff. Don’t spoil this for me. Don’t take away my one chance of uncovering my past. Our past.”

In the shadows of his kitchen, Leif heard his brother heave a heavy sigh. The moments ticked away with each bead of water dripping on the cheap linoleum floor.

“Fine. I give my word. Now turn on the bloody light.”

As he beckoned, Leif flipped the switch, but nothing could have prepared him for what he saw. It was not just a carved artifact, beautifully sitting on his table above a puddle of muddy water, but a chest—a chest that quite possibly held more riches than one man could fathom in a lifetime.

* * *

RENEE VINCENT is a bestselling Contemporary & Historical Romance author who also pens humorous, sweet contemporary romance (with a smidgen of spunk) under the name GRACIE LEE ROSE.

From the daunting, charismatic Vikings, to the charming, brazen Alpha male heroes of modern day, readers will be whisked away to a world filled with fast-paced adventure, unforgettable romance, and undying love.

Her books have earned numerous accolades, including a #1 Amazon Bestseller for Viking Romance, countless 5 Star TOP PICKS by Night Owl Reviews, a "5 HEART Sweetheart" Award by The Romance Studio, and a "Best Book of the Year 2011" nomination from Long And Short Reviews.

Connect with Renee Vincent:
http://www.twitter.com/ReneeVincent
https://www.facebook.com/reneevincentauthor

NEWSLETTER SIGN UP
Join Renee Vincent's newsletter and reap the benefits of being a loyal follower! (One lucky winner is drawn each month)

April Showers, Diamonds, Daisies, My Birthday! by Marianne Stephens

 Yes, it's my birthday! And although I'm OLD, I still celebrate. I love the month of April...new beginnings and a new year older for me.

"April Showers Bring May Flowers"...well, okay, but flowers are already blooming. Warmer weather is a treat. But, we do have to watch the stormy weather since it's tornado season in the Midwest.

"Diamonds are a Girl's Best Friend"...sure. Wonderful to look at and so many terrific diamonds in jewelry settings to choose from. For me, the only diamond I wear is in my engagement ring. Somehow as the years have gone by, I've become less interested in wearing jewelry. I have a few more diamond pieces, but do I need to wear them to write? Do the laundry? Go food shopping?

Colors of Diamonds:
white
chocolate/brown
yellow
pink
blue
red
orange
purple
and more!
White/clear diamonds are the most fascinating, but color ones certainly catch your eye.
Largest diamond found:
Cullinan Diamond: 3,106-carat diamond in Pretoria, South Africa.

The Daisy: good fortune and blissful pleasure.
Colors vary...not just white petals and yellow center!

I love all daisies and diamonds...how could anyone resist?

Enjoy April!

My newest story will be releasing in May: The Naughty Literati will offer another anthology of short stories: sensual to erotic romance! http://naughtliterati.com for details.

My story: Buy Adam:
Under false pretenses, Jessica wins Adam at a Charity Bachelor auction. Secret desires for each other ignite into passionate lovemaking. Will the truth divide them?

Our other two anthologies are available now:
Naughty List
Naughty Hearts

Leave a comment for a chance to win $15 GC for Amazon...and put your email address in with your comment. You can just say "Happy Birthday!" and be entered!

photos:flickr: willclayton, nikilok, and brillanthues photostreams.

April Is About Storms, Daisies & Diamonds

As a storm lover, I have many fond childhood memories of hurricanes that passed close by, but not quite close enough to hit us. The very air was charged with suspense as a storm would approach. I can still see my father at his desk, charting and tracking an oncoming seasonal monster. Then the bluster and blow would consume us as we were inundated by gale force winds and pelting rain. Refreshing cool air always followed after it passed. The storms of my memories were much less threatening than the intensity of those we are faced with nowadays.

When I looked at the theme for April ~ Storms, Diamonds, Daisies ~ something occurred to the writer in me: the importance of quirky character names.

A picture can be worth a thousand words, and I believe a creative name can go a far way toward giving the reader clues about the heroine, hero or villain.

What sort of character do you envision with the name Stormy?

I see an old man living on a houseboat that is docked in a marina. His face is weathered, his teeth few, his features fierce. Sharp eyebrows and pale eyes give him a perpetual ‘stormy’ look. A salt and pepper shock of wild hair shoots out at strange angles. Maybe he smokes a pipe and wears suspenders. His gnarled hands have fixed many a torn net. His only companion is an equally unkempt and unfriendly looking dog.

Stormy might also be the name of a mysterious Native American woman who moved to a city from a rural location. She has the uncanny ability to magnetize scary thunderstorms into existence and can even initiate rain showers. She speaks very little, has a stormy, tempestuous nature, and tends to destroy anything positive that is about to happen for her. She is only kind to a six-year old mute boy. They seem able to communicate perfectly. 

Daisy, on the other hand, shows herself to my muse as a blond-haired, blue-eyed girl with an innocent and pleasing personality. She is an open book with a simplistic approach to loving and living, and trusts others. She cries easily and laughs a lot. Her sweet, sunny disposition makes her a prime target for the vampires that prey on innocent young people.

Or, is Daisy a tan and beige dairy cow? The pretty cow stands beneath the shade tree in the pasture, wearing a brass cowbell. She has a pretty face, and is pleasing to the eye, with a dreamy expression in her milk chocolate eyes as she chews her cud.

Diamond is a stripper at a dance club. She guards her private life intensely, and her glare withers anyone who asks a personal question. Her mysterious past and temperamental attitude cause everyone to keep their distance, and that’s just how she wants it. She is a tough-as-nails gal who can withstand earthquakes and betrayal, and bounce back from any disaster. 

Would it have the same impact in your mind’s eye if Stormy the old sailor was named Jim?

Does the Native American woman named Stormy sound like a Sheila?

And Daisy, sweet Daisy—could she be a Mary?

There are many bovine names that suit cows, of course, but Daisy suits her.

Diamond the stripper could be called Stormy, and it would work, too. But can you see her as a Betty or Harriet?

This is just a reminder to us all to go deeper when choosing character names. It can so greatly enrich our novels.

Do you have fond memories of a memorable character name that has stuck with you over time? If so, please share.

GEMMA JULIANA is a multi-published author who lives in an enchanted cottage in north Texas with her handsome hero, teen son and a comical dog. She loves making new friends and hearing from readers. Exotic coffee and chocolate fuel her creativity.

You can visit Gemma’s website http://www.gemmajuliana.com to email her, see her stories, buy books on all platforms, check for blog hops, and other fun stuff!

Follow @Gemma_Juliana on Twitter: https://twitter.com/gemma_juliana

Connect with Gemma

GemmaJuliana.com | Twitter | facebook

Stormy Weather #RB4U @melissa_keir

Stormy Weather

This month the RB4U authors are talking about Storms. The unpredictable nature of weather is exciting and frightening. All that power....

April showers bring May flowers. But here in Michigan we are almost as likely to get another round of snow showers before April is over and done with. Seriously by February, I'm ready for warmer weather and no more snow. In fact, the word SNOW is a horrible four letter word for me.

It's not that I hate snow. It's perfect for Christmas but it could come on December 23rd and melt on December 26th. What do you think of snow? What about thunderstorms?

There's nothing more thrilling than a thunderstorm. I used to sit on the front porch when I was younger and watch the lightning crash. The pouring rain and deep booming thunder completed the thrill ride. Still when a thunderstorm comes, I want to be right there, watching and feeling it to the marrow of my bones. They've never scared me...thrilled me...yes!

Do you find thunderstorms thrilling? What's your favorite thing to do during a storm?

My book- A Christmas Accident features a horrible snowstorm. The impact of the storm changes the lives of Sherri and Adam. 

Buy Link Only $0.99!

Excerpt:

Route 2 is known as Death’s Highway. The area of Route 2 between Bono and Sandusky claimed dozens of lives due to the large semi-trucks in addition to the awkward two lane road. People couldn’t see what was coming around the next bend so head-on collisions were frequent. The horrible blizzard-like conditions from Lake Erie only made the road more treacherous.

After grabbing the coffee, pretzels and some crackers for myself, then paying for them, I headed back to the car. The snow made the car hard to see from the door of the gas station. Driving in this mess wasn’t a comforting thought.

“Adam, the weather looks really bad. Maybe we should turn on a local radio station to check on the road conditions.”

Making slow progress, we listened to the bleak weather bulletin. Little did we know one single radio announcement would change our lives forever.

I've actually driven on Route 2 in Ohio. During one particular snow storm the road was so bad that after I spun out, there was another accident up ahead. The accident had the police cars just sliding off the road. In other words...what help would those sliding police officers and cars be!

Thank you for visiting today. I hope you'll join me again next month on the 9th for some more excerpts and thoughts. If you want to know more about my books, check out my website: http://www.melissakeir.com/melissas-books.html