I’m a bit of a news junkie, so it’s no surprise that I’ve noticed the coverage of the romance between Taylor Swift and Travis Kelce. Let’s face it… the reports are everywhere.

What surprises me is that I started reading them. I even *gasp* searched for the video of Taylor running into his arms after her performance in Buenos Aires.

I enjoy a good football game, but I confess, I don’t listen to popular music… sorry, Swifties!

So what’s the attraction? As I looked at a recent online picture, it hit me over the head. They look happy! They’re smiling!

With all the terrible news these days, we need some happiness in our lives. So as long as these two young people find enjoyment with each other, I wish them well. They’ve brought joy to a lot of people around the world, something we can use more of these days.

As I write this, I find myself smiling… and it feels good.

Everything Old is New Again…

In spite of my friends rolling their eyes when I mentioned a “Message in a Bottle” type of story, the concept lingered in my mind. It’s been done a million times, they said, and they were right. But perhaps I could give it a modern twist; what would that look like? Hmmm… considering our current obsession with Social Media, maybe I could build the story lines around online connections. And so the Love in a Bottle series came to life in my imagination, and on the digital page. For those who haven’t tried this series, here’s

HOW IT ALL BEGAN…

“Flower delivery for Miss Kincaid.”
Damon made a quick entry on his computer, then looked up. “Hi. I’ll take that.” He wheeled his chair around and cleared a space on his desk. “Do you need a signature?”
“Yeah, right here.” The young delivery man tried unsuccessfully not to look at Damon’s legs. “Do you want me to take it in to her?”
“Thanks for the offer but I can manage.” Lauren Kincaid was a great boss and treated him well. Damon protected her fiercely, but even he was reluctant to interrupt her when she was writing her column. She often left it to the last minute, claiming that it gave her writing an edge and today was one of those days. He gave the driver a five dollar tip and admired the arrangement. Someone had spent big bucks. He suspected they might be from Lauren’s current squeeze, but the man had never sent flowers before. Interesting…
Turning his attention back to the computer, he assessed the change he’d made to the company logo. He and Lauren had discussed making subtle alterations to the masthead of #Trending, the lifestyles tabloid that had become a runaway success in Chicago.
At a time when newspapers were folding quicker than a losing hand of poker, both the physical newspaper and the corresponding website had found an enthusiastic readership among Chicago’s young professionals, much to the delight of Lauren’s father. Vincent Kincaid, a former hockey player turned entrepreneur/playboy, made no secret of the fact that he never wanted to grow old, and Lauren suspected that buying the failing publication was one more way of proving himself. Whatever his reason, the gamble had paid off due to a staff of bright young professionals who weren’t afraid to innovate and take chances. Although her father often mentioned #Trending in public, he rarely poked his head inside the building, which suited everyone just fine.
#Trending had never defined itself, which turned out to be a fortuitous – if unintentional – strategy. As a result, one of its strengths was the ability to react quickly to each new ‘gotta-have-it’ fad. In that respect, the name #Trending had been a lucky break.
Staffed with a mixture of journalists and IT professionals, the publication was considered one of the best media employers in the area. Damon Williams was one of several #Trending employees who were graduates of the Medill School of Journalism. Caught on the wrong street during a gang turf war when he was sixteen, a bullet to his lower spine left him dependent on his wheelchair. His plight had come to the attention of a businessman who’d grown up in West Chicago and the man had offered to finance any education the young man wished to pursue. After a short time feeling sorry for himself, Damon got on with his life, graduating from high school before enrolling at Medill.
While studying at Medill, he became friends with Lauren, who ignoring his wheelchair, relentlessly challenged him to be more innovative… more creative… to think outside the box. When Lauren’s father took over the ailing startup, she brought Damon with her and he’d quickly become #Trending’s most valuable tech guru. His first observations were the lack of an on-line presence plus the fact that the publication needed to broaden its reach and scope.
Lauren set up Damon in an office next to hers as her unofficial assistant and continued to challenge him. “Show me your stuff, Yoda,” she said.
“Make you lots of money I will,” he replied and went to work.
Within a year of #Trending’s online launch, they had well over one million followers on Instagram, which in turn fed into their website. As ad revenue increased, Damon’s salary rose accordingly.
Damon glanced into Lauren’s office, but wasn’t surprised to see her still focused on her column. Alexis Whitby, the publication’s editor, had final say on content but Lauren’s instincts were rarely wrong, and she was allowed wide latitude. Lauren’s father might own the publication but as editor, Alexis had to sign off on each article. Damon didn’t even want to think about what would happen if the two women were unable to solve their disagreements. Against all odds, they’d become casual friends and in Damon’s two and a half years of employment, they’d settled their differences of opinion by doing what was best for #Trending. Of course if the day ever arrived when they couldn’t agree, he’d be Team Lauren all the way, but fortunately that didn’t seem likely.
Satisfied with the alterations to the masthead he turned his attention to the Dining section. It needed expanding in the worst – or perhaps he should say the best – way. Requests for ad space increased with every issue, but more content was needed to balance out the ads. He wondered about contacting some freelance writers to provide restaurant coverage and made a note to bring it up at the staff meeting tomorrow.
“When did those flowers arrive?”
She’d startled him but he replied without missing a beat. “About half an hour ago.”
“Thanks for not interrupting me.” She plucked the card from the arrangement. “I’ve sent you the column. Would you mind looking it over before I forward it to Alexis? See if I’m still on track?”
“Will do.” But he was talking to an empty space; she’d already gone back into her office.
He called up the file and was soon lost in her prose. Among other topics, Lauren was writing a series of articles on the singles scene in Chicago, trending toward venues where women could meet available men. He was reminded of a scene in one of his favorite movies where the male love interest says that to attract a man, all a woman had to do was show up. He chuckled every time he watched that scene – partly because of the way the line was delivered and partly because it was true.

* * *

Lauren studied the writing on the card. She wasn’t sure whether or not she would recognize Julian’s handwriting, but something told her he hadn’t personally written the note. Not that it mattered of course, but it would be nice to think he’d gone to the florist himself to place the order.
Don’t be silly, she muttered to herself and tore open the envelope.
“Thanks for last night.” the note said. There was no signature.
She frowned and turned it over. Nothing.
“What the –?” She studied the four words. Was this some sort of code? If so, she didn’t have a clue how to crack it. Not one to waste time, she picked up the phone and called his private number.
“Lauren,” he said, his tone crisp and impersonal.
Alarm bells went off in the back of her mind. She should hang up, but she was her father’s daughter and didn’t back down from anyone.
“I got the flowers,” she said, matching his tone, “but what’s up with the note?”
He sighed. It was one of his affectations that really pissed her off. Maybe it managed to make some people feel small, but it wouldn’t work with her. “You were fantastic last night, Babe. I thought you knew.”
Okay… it was working. She was starting to feel outmaneuvered. “My name is Lauren, and what do you mean ‘you thought I knew’?”
“Listen, Babe. We had a good time, but it’s over.”
“It’s over?” The moment the words were out she wished she could snatch them out of the air and shove them back down her throat.
He was silent for a moment and she wondered if she’d misunderstood. Or maybe this was him playing a game. If so, she wasn’t enjoying it. “Like I said, it’s over. I don’t do repeats. I thought you of all people would understand that.”
She drew on every ounce of control she possessed. “‘Me of all people?’ What does that mean?”
“Come on… you write that column. You’re out and about. You know how many gals are out there every night looking to hook up. I like to spread it around and I don’t do repeats.”
She wanted to tell him to do unspeakable, anatomically impossible things to himself. But she’d already debased herself and wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction. Without another word she disconnected.
Rising from her chair she walked to the window on legs that barely supported her. The building her father had purchased here in Old Town was one of the classics; it wasn’t tall enough to offer even a glimpse of the lake, but in many ways her view looking down on the busy street was better. People going about their business, singly and together… some on their cell phones, some talking with their companions. The world hadn’t stopped which was odd, considering that she was feeling the same way she’d felt as a child when she’d been watching her father’s team practice and been hit by a hockey puck. But back then her father and all the team members had gathered around, fussing over her and apologizing. Now she was standing here alone, wondering why she hadn’t seen the puck coming.
She shoved the card in her purse, picked up the arrangement and walked out to Damon’s area. He was on the phone and glanced up at her, his brows drawing together.
“Let me call you back,” he said to whoever he’d been talking to.
“Would you please get rid of this?” She was surprised that her voice didn’t waver. “I don’t want them.”
To his credit, he didn’t blink. “Will do.”
She walked toward the exit.
“Boss… about the column.” He only called her Boss when he needed to capture her attention. It wasn’t working.
Lauren couldn’t bring herself to look at him; she was too close to losing it and he knew her too well. She shook her head, gave him a vague wave and stepped onto the elevator.
Damon sat immobile, staring at the closed elevator doors. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Lauren upset, so he had little basis for comparison, but he sensed that she was hurting… big time. The clincher was that she always submitted her column on time… always.

* * *

The late afternoon sun had turned the street into something resembling a movie set. Long shadows contrasted sharply with golden light streaming between the buildings. There was something about the weathered brick of Old Town buildings that spoke of times long past… times when Chicago was new, vibrant and alive… finding its way. Today’s massive chrome and steel structures paled by comparison… at least in Lauren’s eyes.
Stepping onto the sidewalk, she took a deep breath. She’d known where she was headed the moment she disconnected the call. There was one place where she felt secure… safe… in spite of what her friends might think, and she was headed there now.
In its former life, Sneaky Pete’s had been a night club. Its popularity had peaked somewhere around 2010, and its decline had been precipitous. Not surprising… established night spots were hard pressed to keep up with every trend that came along. Sneak’s, as it was known by the regulars, ceased welcoming customers in 2012 and remained closed until 2015, when the property was purchased in a surprisingly quiet transaction. The new owner, in his wisdom, sought out Sean Walker, the formidable bartender of the former club. They met in the dark, dusty interior over coffee and freshly baked iced cinnamon buns. The new owner had done his homework and had learned about Sean’s sweet tooth.
“What, in your opinion, made this a successful club?”
Sean bit into the cinnamon bun, a look of rapture on his face. “Good,” he said, reaching for the coffee.
The new owner waited patiently.
Sean reached for the linen napkin, dabbed at his mouth and lifted his coffee cup. “Most successful clubs have a core group of people.” He took a sip of coffee. “If I knew the formula to success, I’d sell it, but behind all the hype, all the fakery, there’s one constant.” He drained the coffee. “They want somewhere to go where they feel comfortable, where the other customers are like themselves.”
“You sound like a commercial for Cheers.”
“You asked for my opinion.” The former bartender licked his fingers, then wiped them carefully on the napkin… incongruous behavior for a giant of a man with tattooed arms, but he managed to pull it off. “There was never any outright hostility between the regulars and the transient night club crowd, but the regulars slowly drifted away and when the others moved on to the latest thing, the bottom fell out.”
“What would it take to get them back? The regulars I mean.”
Sean looked around, visualizing the possibilities. “How much money do you have?”
The new owner shrugged. “Enough.”
Sean nodded. “This is a fairly affluent neighborhood, plus there are some high powered businesses operating quietly out of the old buildings.” He shot a quick look at the other man. “But I guess you already know that.”
“Go on.”
“Okay. Here’s what I’d do. I’d hire the best chef you can get your hands on and feature him as one of the attractions. Offer really great bar food plus only a few entrees. Steak of course, ribs, pasta, something for the vegetarians and maybe one seafood dish. Crab casserole or something like that. None of that nouvelle cuisine type nonsense. And I’d change the atmosphere.” He glanced toward the far wall. “Booths along that wall with partitions between them high enough that customers can have a private conversation. And whatever you do, don’t discourage people in the booths from ordering only drinks; they’ll eat eventually. Some tables here in the center… not too crowded… and a killer bar with comfortable stools stocked with all the premium brands.” He grinned. “And of course, me behind the bar. Create the atmosphere of a gentleman’s club.”
“What about attracting women?”
Sean chuckled softly. “You haven’t dated recently, have you?”
The new owner lifted his shoulders.
“Trust me, women will appear like magic if the men are here. “You’ll be making your monthly nut in six months.”
Sean was wrong. Within six weeks Sneak’s became an area favorite. Of course it didn’t hurt that the new owner was a friend of Vincent Kincaid, the owner of #Trending. Sean and Lauren hit it off when she wrote two columns featuring the place – one just before they opened and another a couple of weeks later.

* * *

Lauren paused for a moment outside Sneak’s; she’d never brought Julian here. Maybe that was why she felt right coming here to lick her wounds; there were no memories of him within its walls. She took a deep breath and stepped inside.
In the few moments it took for her eyes to adjust she saw that there were about half a dozen other customers; two couples in booths and two singles at the bar. Sean’s eyebrows rose marginally when he saw her, but he nodded and continued polishing glasses.
She walked to the far end of the bar, climbed onto a stool and checked out the two men at the bar, relieved when they paid her no attention.
Sean placed a coaster in front of her, his eyes probing hers. Was her upset that obvious? “I need something different today, Sean. How about some of that Chambord you let me taste last week. A double, on the rocks.”
A flicker of a smile touched his lips. “Bien sûr, mademoiselle.”
He placed the drink in front of her, accompanied by a bowl of peanuts and then walked away.
Lauren stirred the drink with the short straw, licked the straw and then placed it carefully on the napkin, aligning it precisely with the edge. Aware that she’d been holding herself too tightly, she took a sip of the rich liqueur and let it trickle down her throat. She told herself that she could taste the Loire Valley in the sweetness of the raspberries that were used to create the drink. That wasn’t true of course… she was simply avoiding thinking about the dismissive tone in Julian’s voice, avoiding the fact that to him she’d been nothing more than another conquest. Tapping her fingernails against the side of the glass she stared into the dark liquid and vowed it would be a long time before she’d trust another man.

* * *

“Where is she, Damon?” Alexis Whitby waved her cell phone at Lauren’s assistant. “I’ve been trying to contact her, but she has her cell phone turned off.”
“Is it something I can help you with?”
Alexis pulled up the sleeve of her silk blouse and checked her watch. “Only if you can produce her column in the next five minutes.”
“Then I’m your man.” He motioned to his computer screen. “She sent it to me to look over. If you’d like to go into her office I’ll send it back to you.”
“Thank you.” She strode past him and stopped abruptly. “She didn’t shut down her computer. What’s up? That’s not like Lauren at all.”
Damon raised his hands in the classic ‘dunno’ gesture.
Alexis sat down and started reading, issuing a couple of small grunts of approval as she reviewed the column. “Okay, can I leave it to you to upload it?”
“Will do.”
“But first, are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
“I’m not really sure I know.”
She seemed to be making up her mind about something. “All right. I appreciate your loyalty, but this feels different somehow. Can you at least tell me where she went?”
Damon agreed. This did feel different, and maybe another woman was what Lauren needed right now. “She didn’t tell me, but if I had to guess, I’d say she went to Sneak’s.”
The editor’s eyes widened marginally, then she nodded. “Thank you Damon.”

* * *

Sean felt a surge of relief when Alexis stepped through the door of the bar. Silhouetted against the remaining daylight, she was tall, blonde and classically elegant. The two men at the bar spotted her and sat up a little straighter. Probably sucked in their guts, too. Sean hid a smile. The bartender was glad she was here; Lauren had finished her first drink far too quickly and was starting on her second. He tilted his head toward the end of the bar. Alexis caught the movement and nodded her thanks.
Alexis climbed onto the stool next to Lauren and braced her elbows on the bar. “What’s good here?”
“Everything.” Lauren rolled the two straws back and forth on the napkin. Her hand was a bit shaky as she raised her glass to her lips, but she managed to take a drink.
“He dumped me, Lexi. The no-good hedgie dumped me.”
Sean held up a bottle of white wine and Alexis nodded. Lauren had rejected the term ‘hedgie’ when Alexis first coined it but things had evidently changed. She’d never liked the hedge fund manager but thought she’d managed to hide the fact from Lauren.
“Thanks,” she said as Sean placed a glass of wine in front of her. She took a sip and waited a few beats, while Lauren stirred the ice in her drink with her finger.
“I’m not usually that wrong about people,” she said, turning slightly toward the other woman. “You know?”
Alexis gave her a smile of encouragement.
“We’d been taking things slowly, getting to know each other. At least I thought that’s what we were doing.” She took a deep breath. “Last night we went out for dinner and I invited him back to my place for drinks. Things progressed, and well…”
“You slept with him.”
“It’s been six weeks.”
“I wasn’t criticizing. So what happened?”
Lauren closed her eyes for a moment. “I feel like I’m on the outside looking in. It doesn’t even feel real.” Opening her eyes she reached for her glass but didn’t drink. “Now that I look back, he left fairly quickly. Had some sort of excuse about a meeting before the markets open.”
“Was the sex any good?”
“That’s all you want to know?”
“Well, was it?”
“Not really.”
“No loss, then.”
“You’re right, but that’s not the bad part.” This time she did take a drink. “The a-hole actually sent flowers to the office today. The card was cryptic, so I called him. Know what he said?”
Alexis’ cool blue eyes said she could probably guess.
“He said he didn’t do repeats. At first I didn’t understand what he was saying… or maybe I didn’t want to understand. He said because I write that column I should understand, because there are lots of women out there looking to hook up.” She gave a strangled laugh. “And then he said he likes to ‘spread it around’. Those were his exact words, ‘I like to spread it around and I don’t do repeats.’” She shoved her glass away with the backs of her fingers. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
Alexis reached out and rubbed her between the shoulder blades. “No, you’re not. Take some deep breaths.”
Lauren looked around the bar, focusing on familiar items. “Sorry I ran out. I take it Damon gave you the column.”
“Yes. It’s a good one.”
“Maybe I should stop writing about the singles scene. I mean look at me. I’m twenty six years old, never married, and the only men in my life are my father, who has every rich widow in town on speed dial, a tech whiz who’s stuck in a wheelchair and a bartender.”
Alexis stared into her wine. “What does that make me, then?” She blinked back rare tears. “Married to a man who was supporting a younger woman and her child while he was married to me.”
“Sorry, Lexi. I –”
Alexis held up a hand. “I didn’t mean to make it about me.” She took a sip of wine. “But sometimes I wonder if we’d have better luck if we wrote what we want on a piece of paper, stuck it in a bottle and threw it in the river.”
This elicited a chuckle from Lauren. “Maybe you’re right. We can’t do much worse.”
They sat in silence for several minutes, lost in thought. Finally Lauren spoke. “Do you mind if I leave? I think I’ll go back to the office for a minute and then go home. I’ll settle up with Sean on the way out.”
Alexis waved a hand. “See you tomorrow.”

* * *

The office was quiet when Lauren let herself inside. Not sure why she’d come back, she slouched in her office chair and stared at the screen saver on her computer. Today marked a turning point in her life, but she had no idea what was around the corner.
“I don’t have to decide,” she muttered out loud, reaching for the mouse and activating the screen.
“Talking to yourself?”
She turned to see Damon in the doorway to her office.
“Hope I didn’t startle you.”
“Not really.”
“Alexis found you?”
“Yeah, thanks for sending her my way.”
“Do you want some coffee?”
“I think I just want to get out of here.”
“I meant upstairs, at my place.”
She gave him an odd look. “You’ve never invited me up to your place before.” When Lauren explained to her father how valuable Damon was to the business, he converted half of the top floor into a suite for him.
“Is that a yes or a no?”
She put her computer to sleep and stood up. “I could use some coffee right about now.” They headed for the elevator. “You know, in movies it always looks so cool when people drown their sorrows at the bar, but it doesn’t solve anything.”
Damon offered a wry smile. “Some people never learn that.” He rolled off the elevator and pressed a button beside the door. “Welcome to my home.”
Lauren stopped several feet inside the door. “Wow,” she said. “This is beautiful.”
“I like it. Check out the kitchen. Your father had all of the cabinets custom made so I could work at them from my chair. The dude is seriously cool.”
“I love all the plants and the comfortable furniture. And the space, but of course you’d need that to get around.”
“If you like plants, go out on the balcony. I practically live out there when I’m not working on the computer.”
Lauren pressed another button and the sliding doors opened silently. “This must be the most beautiful outdoor space I’ve ever seen. Do you ever use that barbecue?”
“Not often, but don’t tell your father; it was his idea. Would you like to have your coffee out here?”
“Are you kidding? Yes!!” Lauren settled back on a lounge and looked up at the tall buildings a couple of blocks away on North Lake Shore. She could see the back of her building, but somehow this felt much better.
Damon went inside and was back a few minutes later with a tray.
Lauren jumped up and placed the tray on a side table. “Coffee and biscotti. You think of everything.”
Damon smiled. “Gina makes sure we always have plenty. Something about a family tradition.” He reached for a biscuit and dunked it in his coffee. “Now I’m hooked.”
“Not a bad thing to be hooked on.”
Damon raised an eyebrow. “Biscotti or Gina?”
“Both, I guess.” She bit into her biscotti. “You sound happy.”
“I am. Doesn’t seem possible but we’ve been together for about two years now.”
“At least one of us is happy.”
Damon watched her carefully… silently.
“What hurts is that I misjudged him so completely,” she said. “Last night was the first time we… you know… had sex.” She rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe I’m boring you with this.”
“And the flowers were a kiss-off? That’s raw. At least my Mom likes them.”
“You sent them to your Mom? That’s great.”
“She thought so. But back to this guy. He doesn’t deserve you Lauren. I know this is easier said than done, but forget you ever knew him. When you least expect it, someone will come along and sweep you off your feet.”
“Is that what happened with you and Gina?”
“Yeah.” He motioned to his legs. “Except for the sweeping part. Our friends say that watching us was like watching a romantic movie.”
“Stop it, you’re going to make me cry.” But Lauren was smiling. “Know what Alexis said this afternoon? She said we’d have better luck if we wrote a note, shoved it in a bottle and threw it in the river.” She gave him a sideways glance. “What do you think?”
He had that strange distant look on his face – the one he got when he was puzzling something out.
“What?”
“She just might have something there.”
“Come on, she was just kidding.”
“I get that, but I was thinking about the website and how many people read it. What if you did a piece suggesting that very thing? We could ask for feedback… or not, that would depend on you and Alexis. What’s the old expression… ‘everything old is new again’? But my Spidey senses tell me it’s such a crazy idea that people will be sharing it all over the place. After all, this business is about more page views.”
His enthusiasm was contagious. “Damon Williams, I think you’ve got something there.” She sipped her coffee. “What would we call it?”
He laughed. “That part’s easy. You call it LOVE IN A BOTTLE. I’ll even come up with a graphic for you.”
She grabbed another biscotti and nibbled it thoughtfully. “I’ll do it!” She jumped up.
“Where are you going?”
“Downstairs to my office while the idea is fresh in my head.” She took a few steps and then turned back. “Thanks for the coffee… and the idea. I’ll see you in the morning.” She made it as far as the door before turning back again. “I hope we’re paying you enough.”
He shook his head. “I’m well paid, but thanks for asking.”
She spun around. “Okay then. Tomorrow.”

* * *

Lauren was already in her office when Damon rolled in the next morning.
“Did you go home?” he teased. She was clearly wearing different clothes.
“Of course, and I slept very well, thank you very much. By the way, thanks for the graphic. I’ve put it together and sent it to you. Let me know what you think.”
Damon hadn’t seen her so enthused about a project for a long time. He turned on his computer and started to read.

What to do when
Mr. Right
Becomes
Mr. Wrong.

As I move through the singles scene here in Chicago, I’m constantly meeting women who tell me they’re beginning to think they’ll never find the right man. It’s the same all over the country, so I’m told.
A friend of mine recently had a suggestion that, at first blush, seems off the wall. But the more I think about it, the more it makes sense. What is it?
LOVE IN A BOTTLE

I can hear you now. “She’s crazy,” you’re saying. “They do that in movies and even then it usually doesn’t work out.”
True… but what if it did? What if you were brave enough to be brutally honest about what you expect from a partner… Keep in mind that this can work for both men and women. Forget about the picture that shows the way you looked ten years ago… twenty pounds lighter and skin as smooth as a baby’s bottom. Forget about pretending you’d like to hike the West Coast Trail when a quiet walk through your local park is more your style. Forget about pretending you’re a gourmet cook when you have the world’s largest collection of take-out menus.
Got kids? Be proud of them. He (or she) is going to find out eventually.
I guess what I’m saying is be honest about who you are and what you want. Write it down, put it in a waterproof bottle, set it free and then forget about it. Even if your missive is never found, you’ll know yourself a little better. And who knows, you just might find the love of your life.
If you do, be sure to let us know.

* * *

Damon read it twice, aware that Lauren was watching him eagerly.
“Dang, girl. This is good. It’s a perfect blend of “I dare you” and “I’m not really serious.”
Lauren grinned. “That’s exactly what I was aiming for.”
“There is one problem though.” He managed to keep a straight face. “Are you ready?”
“No, but you’re going to tell me anyway, so go ahead.”
“I think this is going to catch on like wildfire. We’re going to be swamped with their stories. Not right away, but when they start to come in, they’ll be mega popular.”
“You think so?”
“I do.” He thought for a moment. “We’ll need to consult with Chase and ask him for a disclaimer to put on the site about comments being public. He’ll know how to handle that aspect.”
“Do you want to take care of that?”
“Sure.” In an average month Damon spoke with the lawyer several times. “I assume you’re going to reconfirm with Alexis but in the meantime I’ll go ahead and build a special area for it.” He paused. “I love the idea of readers sharing their ideas. It’s not even live yet and I’m already anxious to read the first one.”

End of Intro
The first book in the series is free. Find it here:
https://www.monaingram.com/book-series/love-in-a-bottle-series
…or check out the “Free First Books” tab above

What makes Bryan Cranston so watchable? Maybe it’s something to do with the fact that he’s a complex character and that comes across in his acting. I first ‘discovered’ him in The Upside. Yeah, I was one of the few people who hadn’t watched Breaking Bad. When my granddaughter added me to her Netflix account, I binge watched the entire series. Can you say addictive? Ha ha. See what I did there?
I recently read his book, A Life In Parts and it’s a fantastic biography.
Cranston worked hard to reach the level he’s at and doesn’t mind telling us about his failures along the way… although there weren’t many.
I’ve always thought him to be funny, but the other takeaways from the book are that he’s a loyal friend and co-worker and that he’s not afraid to give credit to the other guy.
I wish him luck in whatever he chooses to do next. Bryan Cranston is a real mensch.
The link to his biography is HERE

Do you watch your favorite movies more than once?

… I do. As I sat watching Die Hard this afternoon I started wondering what it is about some movies that compel us to watch them over and over again. When that happens, I sometimes study the flow of the movie in the hopes that I can apply that special magic to my writing.

I’m a sucker for stories where the good guy wins out over the bad guy. I know I’m not alone in that, but I certainly won’t re-watch a movie where there’s no clear victory for the good guy. That theme isn’t easily applied to romances, but the happy ending is similar… isn’t it?

The Shawshank Redemption is one that I’ve watched many times. I read that when it first came out, it wasn’t well received in North America. Fast forward to today and it’s one of the most shown movies on television.

Maybe the “good guy triumphs over the bad guy” theme is why I enjoy The Foreigner so much. Jackie Chan is terrific.

In Spotlight, we find solace of a sort when the story is finally published. Michael Keaton is amazing, as are the rest of the cast. The subject is hard to take, but once in a while we need reminders of our past so we hopefully don’t repeat those mistakes.

How about The Martian? I spent a lot of time outdoors when I was young and I like to think I’d have a good chance of survival if I were stranded, but on Mars? Not so much. The Martian was the first movie where I noticed Donald Glover. A talented young man.

I’ve watched Sicario, Day of the Soldado more times than I can count. Okay, okay, the attraction is probably Benicio del Toro. I mean, who can blame me?

I regularly get caught up watching The Sound of Music. As I’m scrolling through the channels I pause and think “oh, I don’t want to watch this”, and a couple of hours later the credits are rolling. Same goes for Gone With The Wind. What can I say, happy endings are addictive.

We humans have always enjoyed a good story and these days satisfactory endings are more important than ever.
Stay safe. Happy movie watching and happy reading.
Mona

As I mentioned before, during the past year or so I’ve had a difficult time concentrating while reading and I’ve discovered that I’m not alone. Imagine my delight when I tried again a few months ago and re-discovered the joy of reading.
Even though I write romance, I don’t read a lot of it. But when I do, I invariably enjoy the stories, especially historical romances for some reason. Perhaps that’s because they often seem unrealistic, and when I pick one up, I want to be taken somewhere away from the stress we’re all undergoing these days. The one I recommend here has a real dose of realism which is why I’ve included it in this batch of favorites.
Here are a few of my recent choices:

The Cellist:

Daniel Silva never disappoints. I enjoy his Gabriel Allon character, who has evolved over time. For those who aren’t familiar with this series, Gabriel Allon is the chief of the Israeli intelligence service; there’s always an interesting plot, but more importantly, I invariably learn something. The books are meticulously researched and this one is au courant, even up to the recent American election. Highly recommended. THE CELLIST

Win:

Harlan Coben is one of my go-to authors. We were first introduced to Win as Myron Bolitar’s sidekick but in this story, Win is the protagonist. I always liked Win before but now I’m not so sure. Told with Coben’s usual skill, it’s not only a compelling whodunit, but it takes us inside the mind of Win… and that can be a dark place. Which is why I’m including this one. Does every hero need to be handsome, perfect and live a squeaky clean life? I’m not sure. You can decide for yourself. Win is the start of a series and I have no doubt I’ll try at least one more. WIN

The Heiress:

Now here’s a historical romance with a twist. It offers a peek into the life of a woman who has been kept compliant thanks to being given laudanum all of her life. The concept was refreshingly different, and of course enjoyed her journey as she fights for her freedom and ultimately finds love. THE HEIRESS

Brighton:

My first novel by Michael Harvey and it won’t be my last. I found myself immersed in the story line and couldn’t wait to get back to it. It’s described as a thriller and that’s exactly what it is. Compelling. BRIGHTON

Shootout:

Okay, okay, I’m a bit ahead of myself but I have to include the upcoming release in my friend Nick Russell’s Big Lake series because I know I’ll love it. Nick has created a community of people in this series who have become familiar to me and all of his many readers. Some characters we like, some we don’t, but there’s never a dull moment. Looking forward to this one; it’ll be released sometime in early August. Nick talks about the new book HERE.
ps: Nick and I are two of the many authors who use the services of the talented graphic artist ELIZABETH MACKEY for our book covers.

I’ve heard from a couple of people recently asking me why I share book information from other authors. Both inquiries asked if it’s a reciprocal thing.
Nope. There’s no quid pro quo.
I share information on books that either appeal to me – I read a lot of police procedurals as a break from romance – or that I think will appeal to my readers. It’s a simple thing to do, and if it helps the authors of those books – even if it only makes more people aware of them – then my posts have done their work.
I don’t do negative. There’s enough of that on the news these days.
So I’ll continue sharing and who knows? You might find a new favorite author.

It’s been two years since I shared this delightful story.
Seems to me we could all use a chuckle about now, so here it is again:
A Michigan woman and her family were vacationing in a small New England town where Paul Newman and his family often visited.
One Sunday morning, the woman got up early to take a long walk. After a brisk five-mile hike, she decided to treat herself to a double-dip chocolate ice cream cone.
She hopped in the car, drove to the center of the village and went straight to the combination bakery/ice cream parlor.
There was only one other patron in the store:
Paul Newman, sitting at the counter having a doughnut and coffee. The woman’s heart skipped a beat as her eyes made contact with those famous baby-blue eyes.
The actor nodded graciously and the star struck woman smiled demurely.
Pull yourself together! She chides herself. You’re a happily married woman with three children, you’re forty-five years old, not a teenager!
The clerk filled her order and she took the double-dip chocolate ice cream cone in one hand and her change in the other. Then she went out the door, avoiding even a glance in Paul Newman’s direction.
When she reached her car, she realized that she had a handful of change but her other hand was empty. Where’s my ice cream cone? Did I Leave it in the store? Back into the shop she went, expecting to see the cone still in the clerk’s hand or in a holder on the counter or something. No ice cream cone was in sight..
With that, she happened to look over at Paul Newman. His face broke into his familiar, warm, friendly grin and he said to the woman,
‘You put it in your purse.’

… or the unsavory aspects of e-book publishing

This is for my author friends who have discovered every one of their books posted on a website. This is outright theft but fortunately there are ways to counter these sites. The following is a repeat from a 2015 article. I’m posting it here so my author friends can read.

From The Book Designer / 27 February, 2015

A Step-by-Step Guide to Dealing with Content Theft
Posted: 27 Feb 2015 12:05 AM PST
By Helen Sedwick

Content theft is big business, whether it’s illegally downloading movies or reposting blog posts without attribution. Every month Google receives more than 30 million requests to remove search results that link to allegedly infringing material. Thirty million a month!
Sooner or later, every blogger and writer will find her work reposted or republished without permission. Or she may find websites offering free PDFs downloads of her books.
The good news is writers have various options for dealing with content theft, and 99% of the time, they will not need an attorney. A little research and a few emails may do the trick.
Dealing with Online Piracy
1. Contact the site directly.
In most cases, if you email the infringing site and demand they remove your material, the site will comply. You may even get an apology. Believe it or not, some people still think everything on the internet is free to use.
2. Send a takedown notice.
If an email request does not work, or you are dealing with a site that is offering free downloads, the next step is to send a “takedown notice” under the Digital Millennium Copyright Act (DMCA). All writers should learn how to send takedown notices. Like locking your car or home, it’s easy and sensible.
Social media sites like YouTube, Tumblr, Pinterest, and Facebook have online forms for reporting infringement and sending takedown notices. Typically, you’ll find them under links titled Legal, Copyright, Report a Problem, or Help.
If you are dealing with an infringing website, then you send the takedown notice to the ISP hosting the infringing site. Go to https://www.whoishostingthis.com/ or http://whois.net/ and type in the domain. Many ISPs have online forms for sending takedown notices.
Penny Sansevieri recently wrote an excellent post about sending a takedown when her work was stolen. What to do When Someone Steals Your Stuff. Also look at the comments for great information.
3. Notify search engines.
Next, contact Google Copyright Infringement Reporting Tool and request that the infringing site be removed from their search results.
4. Contact advertisers. (optional)
Jennifer Mattern, a top blogger on freelance issues, suggests you contact the site’s advertisers as well. I would not do so unless you are 100% certain the site is actually infringing your work (See Take A Deep Breath below).
Once the social media site, ISP, or Goggle receives a takedown notice, it contacts the alleged infringer. If the infringer does nothing, then the infringing material is taken down. End of story.
5. If that does not work…
If the infringer disputes your claim, they may file a Counter Notification. If that happens, the online service will repost the infringing material unless you notify them within 14 business days that you have filed a legal action against the alleged infringer. Also, if the ISP is not based in the United States, it may simply ignore the takedown notice. In either of these cases, skip to When to Hire an Attorney.
Dealing with Piracy in Books and Ebooks
Stolen content in print and ebooks is particular upsetting. Amazon has an on-going problem with books and ebooks intended to trick buyers into purchasing the wrong product. According to Fortune Magazine, both Thirty-Five Shades of Grey and I am the Girl with the Dragon Tattoo sold thousands of copies before they were removed from Amazon’s site. Here are some options for ebook authors.
1. Set up Goggle Alerts.
I asked Mark Coker, founder of Smashwords, for his advice. He suggested that “writers set up Google Alerts for their book titles and for unique text strings that appear in the first 10% and last 10% of the book. For example, if a book has a sentence such as James picked up the salamander and gazed at its iridescent eyes… that sentence will probably never ever appear in any other author’s book, so create a Google Alert on it. Writers could create an additional Google Alert leaving the character name out of the string in case someone simply tries to change character names and republish the book as their own.”
2. Contact Amazon, Smashwords and other retailers.
If you find an infringing book, then both Amazon and Smashwords will work with you to remove infringing materials or confusing knock-offs. Amazon’s copyright claims procedures can be found at Notice and Procedure for Making Claims of Copyright Infringement. For Smashwords, contact them through their website. I suspect every distributor has a similar process to assist authors.
3. Register your copyright.
If you have not already done so, registered the copyright in the work being infringed immediately. You cannot file a lawsuit unless the work is registered with the US Copyright Office. If you threaten to sue, and the infringer searches copyright records and doesn’t find your registration, they may call your bluff. For more on how to register your copyright, see Joel’s post How to Copyright Your Book.
When to Hire an Attorney
If the infringement continues despite your efforts, then consider hiring an attorney. A cease-and-desist letter on lawyer letterhead may be taken more seriously. Attorney Kathryn Goldman wrote a helpful two-piece article on Molly Greene’s blog on what to do if your ebook is pirated.
However, I would not hire an attorney or jump into litigation without asking yourself whether it will be worth the effort. Sure, if you sue and win, you may be entitled to collect damages, but your damages (lost sales) may be small and difficult to prove. The infringer may be overseas and unreachable. And litigation consumes money like wildfire, not to mentioned time, attention, and sleep.
Take a Deep Breath
Before you accuse someone of infringement, keep in mind:
• Titles are not copyrightable. If someone uses a title similar to yours, you cannot claim infringement. Sorry.
• Ideas, themes, facts, and historical events are not protected by copyright. If someone publishes work covering topics similar to yours, that is not automatically infringement. Infringement implies close copying how you expressed ideas and information, not the ideas and information themselves.
• If someone is quoting your work for commentary, education, or review purposes, or creating a parody of your work, that is fair use and NOT infringement, no matter how scathing. Fair use is protected by the First Amendment, which trumps copyright law.
• Those sites offering cheap or free PDFs are typically scams downloading malware or stealing credit card numbers. Anyone who clicks through on those sites was unlikely to buy your book anyway.
• Don’t get caught up in a game of whack-a-mole. While it’s upsetting to see your work stolen, the theft may have little economic consequence to you. You could waste a lot of time chasing these low-lifes. As soon as you deal with one, others may pop up. Your energy may be better spent creating new work and finding new readers.

Once again The Washington Post has published the winning submissions to its yearly neologism contest, in which readers are asked to supply alternative meanings for common words.

The winners are:

1. Coffee (n.), the person upon whom one coughs.

2. Flabbergasted (adj.), appalled over how much weight you have gained.

3. Abdicate (v.), to give up all hope of ever having a flat stomach.

4. Esplanade (v.), to attempt an explanation while drunk.

5. Willy-nilly (adj.), impotent.

6. Negligent (adj.), describes a condition in which you absentmindedly answer the door in your nightgown.

7. Lymph (v.), to walk with a lisp.

8. Gargoyle (n.), olive-flavoured mouthwash.

9. Flatulence (n.), emergency vehicle that picks you up after you are run over by a steamroller.

10. Balderdash (n.), a rapidly receding hairline.

11. Testicle (n.), a humorous question on an exam.

12. Rectitude (n.), the formal, dignified bearing adopted by proctologists
13. Pokemon (n.), a Rastafarian proctologist.

14. Oyster (n.), a person who sprinkles his conversation with Yiddishisms.

15. Frisbeetarianism (n.), (back by popular demand): The belief that, when you die, your soul flies up onto the roof and gets stuck there.

16. Circumvent (n.), an opening in the front of boxer shorts worn by Jewish men.

The Washington Post’s Style Invitational also asked readers to take any word from the dictionary, alter it by adding, subtracting, or changing one letter, and supply a new definition.

The winners are:

Bozone (n.): The substance surrounding stupid people that stops bright ideas from penetrating.

The bozone layer, unfortunately, shows little sign of breaking down in the near future.

Cashtration (n.): The act of buying a house, which renders the subject financially impotent for an indefinite period.

Sarchasm (n): The gulf between the author of sarcastic wit and the person who doesn’t get it.

Inoculatte (v): To take coffee latte intravenously when you are running late.

Osteopornosis (n): A degenerate disease. (This one got extra credit.)

Karmageddon (n): It’s like, when everybody is sending off all these Really bad vibes, right? And then, like, the Earth explodes and it’s like, a serious bummer.

Glibido (v): All talk and no action.

Arachnoleptic fit (n.): The frantic dance performed just after you’ve accidentally walked through a spider web.

Caterpallor (n.): The color you turn after finding half a grub in the fruit you’re eating.

And the pick of the literature:

Ignoranus (n): A person who’s both stupid and an asshole.