Guest J.Q. Rose on Poinsettia Care

Thanks so much for hosting me today on the Paranormal Romantics. I had a great time writing Deadly Undertaking with a ghost-like character, a shadow man, Henry.  

In my pre-writing life, I was in the flower business for twenty years. We were busy elves helping Santa out at this time of year with providing decorations, floral arrangements, and blooming plants for gift-giving and parties. The poinsettia is the plant every one associates with Christmas time, so if you give or receive one, I am passing along some pointers on caring for this seasonal favorite. Happy Holidays!

12 Pointers on Poinsettia Care by J.Q. Rose

‘Tis the season of the year when the transformation occurs. Winter’s grim grip on the land is broken by the bright lights and decorations of the holidays. The poinsettia plant, introduced to the US by Joel Roberts Poinsett, the first US Ambassador to Mexico, remains the all-time favorite of decorators.

Purchasing a poinsettia

·         Do you know the beautiful shades of red, pink, and white are not the poinsettia flower? The flowers are located in the center of the colored leaves or bracts. When purchasing, look for buds. The freshest plants have the buds and will last longer than plants with flowers opening or already opened or missing.

·         Check the rest of the plant to be sure leaves are a rich green, not yellowed, wilted, or curled.

Wrap it up

·         In cold areas, your newly purchased plant should be wrapped or sleeved before taking it outside to your car or truck. Poinsettias hate cold drafts.

·         Don’t leave the plant in the vehicle for a long time in the cold weather even if it’s wrapped.

Watering and Fertilizing

·         When you get home with the plant, immediately unwrap it.

·          Dig your fingers into the soil to see how wet it is. Go about an inch deep.  Poke a hole through the foil wrap or remove the foil before watering to allow the water to drain.

·         Always set the poinsettia in a tray to catch the water that drains through. After an hour or two, empty the tray of remaining water.  Just like you and me, the roots of the poinsettia don’t like their feet wet all the time.

·         Don’t fertilize while the plant is blooming. To keep the leaves green after blooming, fertilize once a month with a liquid fertilizer.

·         With any plant you have in your house, always feel the soil to determine how wet or dry it is before watering.

The Best Location in your house

·         Poinsettias do well in bright light, but not hot sun. Find a brightly lighted area in your home.

·         Don’t put the plant in a cold window or near a heat vent.

Poisonous?

·         Poinsettias have been wrongfully accused of poisoning pets and children. The Pet Poison Helpline states, “While poinsettias are commonly “hyped” as poisonous plants, they rarely are, and the poisoning is greatly exaggerated.” Pet Med adds “If the leaves are ingested, they will often cause nausea and vomiting, but it would take a large amount of the plant’s material to cause poisoning, and most animals and children will not eat such a large enough amount because of the irritating taste and feel from the sap.” You can be assured the poinsettia can safely claim its place adding a pop of color and beauty to your home or workplace during the holidays.

If you have any questions about caring for your poinsettia plant, please ask in the comments section below. I’d be happy to answer. Do you usually have a poinsettia plant in your home during the holidays? What’s your favorite color? I’m traditional because I prefer red. Do you have other holiday plants like the Christmas cactus, amaryllis, and cyclamen?

# # # #

J.Q. Rose has been working with flowers most of her life. She began by helping in the family’s funeral business setting up flowers for visitation and funeral services.  Later she and her husband owned and operated a floral shop, greenhouses, and garden center where she designed floral arrangements which included funeral flowers.

In her romantic suspense, Deadly Undertaking, her main character, Lauren, is the daughter of a funeral director performing many of the jobs J.Q. knows so well such as dusting caskets.

Lauren Staab of the Staab and Blood Funeral Home returns home to help out with the family business and take care of her mother stricken with Alzheimer ’s disease. She hadn’t planned on meeting a handsome detective, being exasperated with a shadow man, and discovering a murder victim in the garage between the flower car and the funeral coach. Welcome home, Lauren!

EXCERPT: Deadly Undertaking by J.Q. Rose, from Chapter 12—Meet Henry, the shadow man

Lauren entered her office and shut the door behind her. She was infuriated with her brother and with Emmett. She stomped to her desk and tossed the cigarette lighter in the drawer. The heat of her anger still flamed inside her.  She shook her head in disgust.

            “Lauren, you really should give up smoking those cigarettes. They can kill you.” Her eyes darted to the wall. Henry’s shadow hovered next to the closed door. He never showed up at the right time. Of course when was the right time to see a ghost?

            Stifling the three little sneezes that always signaled Henry’s presence, she said, “Dear, dear Henry. You aren’t exactly a healthy specimen yourself, a flat black shadow on a wall. Are you telling me cigarettes killed you?” She smirked at the shadow.

            “No, not cigarettes.”

            “I think you know this isn’t the right time to be discussing my health. That was you knocking the stuff off the shelves and flashing the lights on and off, wasn’t it?” She practically stared a hole through the shadow.

            “Why, what do you mean, dear?” It’s a good thing Henry didn’t have a face to slap because she would have if she could have.

            “You know what I mean.” She sighed. “I guess I should be grateful instead of mad at you. At least your shenanigans scared off Emmett.

            “You’re welcome.” Henry bowed deeply. “Glad to be of help.”

 “Well, I’ve got work to do, Henry.”  Tapping her computer to wake it from its hibernation, she said, “By the way, what did kill you?” Funny how she’d never even thought about how Henry died.

            “Some bad guys didn’t like me too much.” He twirled his umbrella and tucked it under his arm.

            Now that statement spiked Lauren’s curiosity. “Do you mean somebody murdered you?” Her eyes grew wide with the realization. “Why? Were you a bad guy or a good guy?”

            She heard Henry’s deep chuckle. “Now how am I supposed to answer that? Of course, I think I’m the good guy.” He gave the “thumbs up” gesture to emphasize he was truly was.       

            Lauren leaned forward in her chair. She waited. “Well aren’t you going to tell me what happened?”

            A knock at the office door interrupted the conversation.

# # # #

Deadly Undertaking is available at Amazon.  Click here to read a sample or download the e-book.

http://amazon.com/dp/B016U7MPR2

Bio

J Q Rose is an avid reader, photographer, and blogger with blogs about writing and growing a vegetable garden. Janet and her husband are snow birds who spend winters in Florida allowing them to garden twelve months out of the year. Summer finds her up north camping and hunting toads, frogs, and salamanders with her grandchildren.

Guest J. Paulette Forshey on Writing Paranormal Romance

Please welcome our guest J. Paulette Forshey.

Why I write Paranormal Romance

I’d been writing short stories and poetry for several years and doing well enough but something was missing. I’ve always felt the ‘paranormal challenged’ needed love too just like everyone else and that’s when I started writing romances with things that go bump in the night.  Yes, I was that girl who thought that Dracula was the greatest love story of all time way better than those two teenagers Romeo and Juliet’s story. They died end of the book, but Dracula died on a daily basis, and kept coming back for more while searching for his lady love. Who doesn’t like a guy with staying power.

There’s something about a bad boy with a broken heart that draws us in and if they’re several centuries old and have a thing for fresh blood all the better. Or how about a ghost with unfinished business that needs to find love so he or she can cross over or live again? And one of my favorites are the angels that fall for humans as we know sometimes it takes a human to save an angel.

There is a mystique to the flesh by day fur by night guy who’s looking for a howling good time, or blood drinking dude who doesn’t care if you’re positive or negative, they’ll love you anyway. How about a guy with a pair of big white wings? They can fly you to the moon and back and leave a sigh on your lips. Paranormals stir a primal desire in us that makes you want to rub that belly, donate to your local Red Cross, and say your prayers to catch their attention.

My first book, a novella, was about a Halfling (half fairy half human) who fell for a Great Dragon, then a handsome Wizard, and finally settled down with an everyday human.

The idea of paranormal romances was stuck in my head. The possibilities were endless, shifters, weres, ghost, angels, and blood drinkers to name a few. I read authors like Charlaine Harris, Lynsay Sands, and Kerrelyn Sparks and found out there were vamps, who might be brooding, but they also had a sense of humor out in the world. Undead and funny to boot, my kind of heroes! Laurell K. Hamilton and Kim Harrison added a slew of hot guy paranormals to my list of reading! My writing was about to take a turn for the hot, sexy, tall, dark, and funny!

I read, pondered on these new types of paranormals and vamps, what could I do that was different? One night I dreamed about a new breed of biters. I dreamed about them the next night and the next each night it was like I was learning more about these people, and they were wanting me to tell their story. After several nights of dreams, I woke up one morning and started outlining a book. When I finished, there were ten legal sized pages filled front and back. An author friend looked over the pages and informed me I didn’t have one book I had at least seven novels waiting to come to life. My Tarczals were born.

I believe we read and write paranormals because they take us outside of ourselves in a way that gives us a bigger ‘what if’ to our romances. Instead of a love in the present-day world, or a love that last decades, with a paranormal we have centuries and who doesn’t want true love to last that long? I would if I could with my guy.

I love HEAs and wish more people could have that in their lives, that’s why I write romance and why I write paranormal romances that just kicks that HEA up a notch.

  

J. Paulette Forshey, is an award-winning author who lives in a small Ohio town with her husband, and a rescue Papillon. Her mornings belong to her writing, her days are spent loving her eight grandbabies, and her nights belong to her husband, the inspiration for her heroes.

You can find her at: www.jpauletteforshey.com

paulette.forshey@facebook.com

Twitter @ForsheyJ

https://www.amazon.com/J.-Paulette-Forshey/e/B004YPN0LI/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0

THE TARCZAL ALLIANCE by J. Paulette Forshey

“A woman with a legendary past. A vampire with a broken heart. Their love could change the world.”

Logan Kincaid was trying to find the spy in his company when she walked in, - long blond hair, longer legs, and intelligent green eyes – damn, all his weaknesses rolled into one. He’d lived for 445 yrs. believing the Blood Witches and T’yhiéls of his vampiric childhood were nothing but myths until one walked into his life and all hell broke loose.

Allyson Weston needed a scholarship to continue her career, and she wanted her abusive ex out of her life. Allyson got both and more when she found out the benefactor of the scholarship’s bite was worse than his bark and her ex was found dead in her driveway.

The Tarczal Alliance is available at Amazon

The Things That Get Us Through the Year by Jane Kindred

It’s that little souvenir, of a terrible year
Which makes my eyes feel sore
And who ever would've thought, the books that you brought
Were all I loved you for
 — The Sundays, “Here’s Where the Story Ends”

Normally, I’m all about the holiday spirit this time of year. I’m an atheist with pagan leanings, and I adore all things Yuletide. This year, however, putting up the tree was an act of faith—as it is every year—that after the darkness, the light will return. But this symbolism has never resonated with me quite so much as it does right now, at the end of this terrible year, in which “to 2016” has become an insidious verb.

The unexpected death of David Bowie on January 10 hit me hard, and then my personal year got off to a rocky start with the announcement that my publisher was closing its doors. In addition to uncertainty about the fate of my current titles, it meant the cancellation of a book whose characters I'd grown deeply attached to. That loss, coupled with some reviews that shook my faith in my writing, plunged me into a deep depression.

Then, in April, Prince’s tragic death hit me even harder than Bowie’s had. Both were major influences on me growing up, helping me to take pride in being different, accepting that who I was didn’t have to be who I’d been raised to be. But Prince had helped me define my individuality in countless ways, letting me take the first baby steps away from my fundamentalist Evangelical upbringing when I wasn’t quite ready to let go of my beliefs even though they no longer rang true. The loss of that icon—and that music that had been the soundtrack of my teenage years—made me feel like a little bit of my youth had been irrevocably lost as well.

And then 2016 continued to unrelentingly “2016” on a global scale.

But there has been a little light among all the darkness. In April, the first two books of my Sisters in Sin series sold to Harlequin Nocturne. And it’s those little glimmers of light that keep writers going when the world seems to be turning against them. Writing is what carries us out of the darkness.

The first book in the series, Waking the Serpent, was released yesterday, and the second, Bewitching the Dragon, comes out in May. I started writing Bewitching right after Prince’s death, and the first draft of that book included my main character reflecting on how his music had given her strength as a young woman. Like me, she had struggled to reconcile the beliefs of her youth with her changing views as she came of age. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Book 1 is about Phoebe, the sister who embraced her magic and never looked back, and Rafe, the living embodiment of Quetzalcoatl.

If you like magic—and hot dragon shifters—with a healthy dose of sin, perhaps the Sisters will do for you what they did for me and help you get through these dark times.

Waking the Serpent is available now in ebook and mass market paperback at the following retailers:

Amazon.com
ARe
Barnes & Noble
BookDepository.co
BAM
Booktopia
iBooks
Kobo

Writers, such curious folk

Do you have a friend who is a writer? If you do, then perhaps you're familiar with what I'll be talking about here. If you're a writer yourself, you may not have noticed these strange traits in yourself or maybe you don't have them, some writers don't. These strange folk (writers) come in many different variations. If you're a writer, perhaps you haven't noticed them because you were lost in the corridors of your mind at the time and failed to notice.

Maybe you've been engaged in conversation with a writer or he/she is among a group of friends participating in a conversation. Suddenly the writer drops out of the discussion and gets a faraway look in his/her eyes. Don't be alarmed or think that person is intentionally being impolite, nor has anything gone wrong. Something has occurred during the conversation, a word, a picture, a sound, that has triggered them to retreat into his/her inner thoughts.

Maybe elaborate scenes for their current work in progress are flashing in their minds, or maybe one of more of their characters are shouting out to be heard. Maybe the characters are suggesting situations to put them in or introducing (groan) other characters to crowd into the corridors of their mind. So many things. Talk about being insane. (grin) Imagine, if you can, having multiple personalities running amok in your mind and as more of your stories are created, the number of personalities inside you explodes. It soon becomes very crowded in there. Don't be concerned, a strait jacket is not called for, most authors are too busy plotting and performing things in their fantasy worlds to do anything dastardly in the real world.

Furthermore, don't be alarmed, he/she will come back to the present in due time. He/she is just being a crazy writer. Always remember, anything he/she sees, or hears, may well become part of the story. Writing inspiration comes from too many sources to count.

If you like the writer's stories, just remember, posting a review on Amazon or wherever you found his/her book, is the best way to tell them you appreciate their effort to entertain you and encourage them to write more.

My latest book. (caution) for 18+ contains M/F, F/F and menage couplings. There are BDSM scenes as well. 

Small town raised with conservative values, Janelle has recently graduated from college. Her job search has been fruitless so far and she is facing mounting debt along with pending eviction from her apartment. When she finally receives a job offer, it is both unbelievable and disturbing. The offer requires her to cruise the world on a fabulous yacht for a year with all expenses paid. It also requires her to sell herself for that year in a Master, slave, relationship. The wages she will receive are beyond her wildest dreams, over a million K for the year. Will Janelle accept the offer or turn it down because of her conservative values? 

available at Amazon.com

Excerpt

She slipped into the seat and dug into her briefcase, taking out one of her resume folders, which she placed on the desk and slid across to him. For a moment, Mr. Davis left the folder containing her resume untouched, and instead, openly studied her. Janelle shifted uncomfortably as his gaze traveled from her face and down. His brazen stare caused her to picture him inspecting a piece of meat at the grocery. One that he was contemplating purchasing. Instinctively, she clamped her legs closed.

"This interview is going to be unorthodox, Miss. Lawson, but your answers will carry more weight than your credentials. If I like them, I will offer you a job, if not…" he shrugged his shoulders.

Great, no pressure here. She squeezed her hands forming fists and resisted the urge to dry the sweat that developed on her palms on her skirt.

Mr. Davis opened the folder containing her resume and scanned it quickly, then slowed as he read the second page containing her personal information. "I see you're from Oklahoma, and I presume a small town since it is unfamiliar to me."

"Yes, it's in the panhandle of northwestern Oklahoma."

"Are your parents there?"

"My parents are dead."

"I see. I'm sorry for your loss, Miss Lawson. What about a boyfriend…or girlfriend."

She jolted at his question and wondered what it had to do with anything in an interview. "No boyfriend. I do have friends who are female, but that isn't what you're asking, is it? I don't have any close ties if that is what you're asking."

"Good. I say good because the job will require extensive travel. Having close ties would complicate things. And yes, I was implying a female sexual partner." What is your opinion of sex?"

His question sent shock waves racing through her. What type of interview is this? "Excuse me, sir?"

"You heard me."

"Um, if you're asking if I'm a virgin the answer is no. I've had boyfriends but don't currently have one. I feel there should be a strong emotional attachment between a man and woman before sex enters the picture."

He pressed his lips tight. "Okay, please stand, Miss Lawson."

Shit! Wrong answer, I'm being dismissed.

"May I call you Janelle?"

"Yes."

"Janelle, please unbutton your suit jacket and turn slowly."

What the hell? She did a slow pirouette as asked.

When she faced him again, approval shown in his eyes. "You are a very attractive woman, Janelle." He examined the sheet of paper on his desk. "You're height and measurements?"

You've got to be kidding! The thought of her mounting bills and desperation over possibly obtaining the job loosened her tongue and she divulged the information he asked for.

"Thank you." He picked up his desk phone. "Kevin, would you please come over here to my office?" He nodded over his steepled his fingers.

Another man joined them while she still stood next her chair. He took station beside Mr. Davis. Kevin, she assumed, was just as handsome, with short, blond hair, blue eyes, and broad shoulders. Just like Mr. Davis, he wore an obviously expensive three-piece suit. He examined her openly, then said to Mr. Davis, "She'll do just fine if she desires us to employ her." With no further words, Kevin left the room.

Mr. Davis dug in one of the desk's drawers and placed a sheaf of papers on top. "Please sit, Janelle," he said, gesturing to the chair. He slid the papers toward her. "I know you're confused right now and wondering what this is about. I will tell you a little about the job requirements, but this contract will explain them in greater detail."

"Okay," was all she could manage. This interview was far different than she had ever imagined.

"The job will require you to travel and live abroad for a year. Most of the time you'll be living on a yacht that belongs to Mr. Parker and me."

"And what will my work entail?"

He ignored her question. "I'm certain you're curious about many things, including your salary. Your salary will be 85K—"

Her jaw dropped open.

"Per month," he continued.

It opened wider. 

"The job will begin in six months—"

Her heart fell to her feet. "Um, sir, I don't know if—"

"You can survive financially for that long," he finished for her. He scanned the paper. "I'm well aware of that. I know a lot about you, Janelle. After you called yesterday, I did extensive research on you. I know you're behind on your rent and your other bills. If you decide to accept the offer, those will be taken care of for the six months before the job actually begins, including having your student debts paid in full. Trust me, you will be busy preparing for the six months and you won't have the time to worry about finances. You'll continue living in your apartment because moving would be pointless since you will be leaving when your job starts. The rent will be paid ahead for the entire six months. You'll receive eight hundred dollars per week to live on." He peered into her eyes. "I'll be frank with you, Janelle. Your attitude towards sex will need to change. During your employment, I will be fucking you. You'll sort of be my girlfriend."

Holy shit. Did he say what I think he just said? She studied Mr. Davis closer. Janelle estimated him to be in his early thirties. Okay probably ten to fifteen years older than me, but for that kind of money, I'll be your paid girlfriend.

She grinned. "Despite my statement, I'm not a prude concerning sex, Mr. Davis, and having sex with you will not be a problem. You're a handsome man. Besides, the generous salary you're offering buys a lot of attitude change. What else will I be doing?" 

He glanced at his watch. "I'm sorry to cut this meeting short, but I have another appointment. Read the contract; it contains more details about your employment. If you agree to the terms, sign it. I will need your decision one way or another by this time tomorrow. Thank you, Miss Lawson. I'll see you at two."   

Holiday Blues

I'm afflicted with Holiday Blues. Quiet days at home are what I crave. Heck, I leave work Monday and don’t go out again until Saturday when I return to work. Occasionally my sister drags me out or a variety of appointments I can’t get out of force me into the world. This time of year I try even harder not to leave my safe, warm, abode. Doesn’t help that I abhor winter weather – any weather below 70 degrees is brutal! So why a holiday story you might ask? Gosh knows. Maybe it’s because I’d put this one out a few years ago and never quite ‘felt it’ so I enhanced the story by adding close to a thousand words, and I’m setting it free once again this week after a few more fixes! Here’s a bit of my interracial male/male/female ménage:

Pennington Seevers picked the same all-inclusive island get-away the very woman he wants to escape also chose. Partner, best friend, and lover, Rory Burton, is along for the trip and though they enjoy sex together, even love each other, Rory insists Pennington is more than attracted to Headley Etta Xavier and accuses him of not wanting to share as they often did.

Headley Etta Xavier who goes by the name Hex knows involving herself with her boss, Pennington, or his second in command, Rory, might mean an end to her job so she takes her first vacation in years hoping to wipe both from her mind. Little does she realize the men she watches having sex from a hidden spot behind a tree is Penn and Rory. Worse yet, seeing them in the act didn’t deter Hex, it made her hotter than hell!

A holiday to remember or a case of holiday blues—which way would it go?

“It’s been so long I barely remember but I’d bet you can’t describe the last woman we shared.”

Penn stroked his chin, scratched stubble. “Tall and blonde.”

“Yeah, right, and I’d wager again this sudden thing you’ve developed for tall, skinny blondes is so you don’t think of Hex when you screw them.”

“You just can’t leave it be.”

Rory said, “Tell her.” The lopsided grin Penn loved appeared. “The worse that could happen is one of us gets lucky.”

“Stop right there.”

“Christ, Penn, I don’t get you sometimes.” Rory tipped his beer, finished the bottle. “You don’t laugh anymore, we don’t go out, and you’re rude as hell all the time. You need to pull it together.”

He gazed at his friend. They’d known each other forever, Penn loved the man. Rory didn’t know how close he was to the truth about his feelings for Hex. He watched her at work, Penn liked how meticulously she handled her job, how she smiled, how she walked, how her brown skin glistened under lights... Fuck me! He couldn’t find a single thing to fault her on. Hell, he searched hard for errors to have a reason to call her into his office. He found none. And the way she dressed, God, she was stunning in those fitting outfits that hugged her round ass. How could he be so attracted to Hex but not want to give up what he had with his best friend?

Hex rejected his advances so many times, he stayed angry at the world and it was wrong. “With the others, I could share them, it was sex and we all got what we wanted. Anyway, what they thought didn’t matter. I always knew I could continue to have you.”

“And now?”

Rory was right about why he chose thin blondes—they kept thoughts of Hex from invading his head. “I almost told her, Rory. If she had agreed to go out with me again, I would because I didn’t want a lie between us.”

“Jeez, that bad, huh?”

A hand waved in Rory’s direction, “She may not have understood us.” Penn shook his head. “Hell, I’ve never felt this way about anyone but you and I’ve only kissed her.” He didn’t take his eyes off Rory. “Though we’ve shared men and women, I’m possessive as hell when it comes to you.” He glanced away not wanting Rory to see anger flushing his face. “I remember the guy you brought up in conversation earlier. We enjoyed him together but when he tried to take you from me, I wanted to do more than punch him out.”

“I knew you remembered.”

“Thinking of you feeling this way about someone… Jesus!” His head bowed. “What if I couldn’t have shared Hex?”

“Doesn’t seem to matter now. Anyway, I get it.”

“Fuck that, Rory, because I don’t. I don’t get this at all.” Penn appreciated the fact only one lamp cast light from the far corner because he would rather not ruin Rory’s holiday by having him witness raw emotion surfacing at this moment. What the hell! He leaned forward on the sofa, elbows on knees, and buried his face in his hands. “Every night, every goddamn day. I can’t get her out of my mind. I liked being with her, we talked, laughed, touched, and she didn’t expect anything from me. I’d have taken her to one of those godawful girly movies if she asked. Christ, Rory.” Air whooshed from his mouth. “I won’t… I can’t give up what you and I have.”

“Penn, I’m sorry.”

He jerked around and stared at Rory. “What the hell does that mean?” Would Rory disappear from his life if he found a woman and wanted to settle down? “What would you do?”

Rory got up, walked a few steps to where he sat, and pulled Penn’s hands into his. “I don’t want another man, you’re enough for me. But we’ve talked about women, doing different things with them, and I’m more than aware you want to start a family, have children. You’ve never hid that from me. I don’t want kids but it’s been my dream we’d find one woman we could spend the rest of our lives with.” Penn pulled his hands back and rubbed his face. “Look at me.” Rory continued, “I’m not searching but if I found one and she didn’t understand what you and I have together, she won’t be in my life. Period.”

Penn stood and embraced Rory. “Then there’s your answer why Hex can never know, why I can’t make her a part of my, our life."

Keep your eyes open for more information on release date.

Growl and roar-it’s okay to let the beast out. – J. Hali Steele

When You Win NaNoWri You Need to Stand Up & Pull Out Your DIY Treadmill Desk With Maureen Bonatch

By Maureen L. Bonatch

Okay, so I gave it away- I won #NaNoWri! (National Novel Writing Month). But after my endless flapping about it last month, it would be a bit embarrassing to admit defeat. Although I truly believe anyone who commits to participate and puts any words to the page is a winner.

But to win and get the very rough draft done for Sister From Another Mister (Book 2 in A Touch of Magic Series), and for most of the year, I’ve spent a lot of time with my “butt in the chair”. 

This means I also win extra backaches and must constantly fight the force of gravity on my dedicated behind. 

Exercising has gotten more difficult as the cold weather closes in on Pennsylvania, but I’ve developed a few solutions over the years that I’d like to share with you.

Drag Out That Old Clothes Hanger

You know what I’m talking about, your treadmill. Many of us have one that we’ve either held onto over the years, or have gotten rid of and reacquired each time we renewed our exercise efforts.

Most writers, and many other people who work at jobs that result in a lot of sitting, struggle to get enough exercise throughout the day. Plus, it’s difficult to carve out the extra time for exercise. 

Hence, the treadmill desk. When I first learned about such sorcery, a desk that you can write and exercise at the same time, I was amazed and immediately put it to the top of my ‘want’ list.  Then I looked at the prices…and the treadmill dropped a few pegs on my list.

Until This Non-DIYer Made a DIY Treadmill Desk

I am not a crafty person. I don’t make things, I buy them. But turning my treadmill into a treadmill desk was incredibly easy & I had everything I needed already. Cost= Nada.

I’m nothing special. If you Google it, tons of people have done similar DIY Treadmill Desks.

What I Used:

•       Treadmill
•       Old Extra Large Shelf from my Daughter’s Room
•       2 Big Ass Belts I’ve hoarded from the 1980’s (don’t judge- I didn’t say I’ve worn them…lately) 

My DIY Treadmill Desk & My Poor Photography Skills ;)

When I’m ready to do some editing (writing is a little more challenging), or check my email, marketing etc. then I grab the loose wood shelf and lay it across my treadmill arms and hook the 2 belts around the hand bar. Viola! I can walk at a slow pace—so I’m not breaking any race records, but I am off my butt. 

Speaking of Sitting

Then there’s the study most of us heard about a few years ago published in the British Journal of Sports Medicine that had everyone talking about how sitting is the new smoking and how sedentary lifestyles were killing us. That increases in physical activity has less of an impact that merely reducing the time sitting.

  

So there are plenty of Standing Desks on the Market as well, but I didn’t have room for one, and didn’t think I’d use one enough to make it worth it. A little thinking out of the box, and digging through my closet I found my solution.

As a writer, I have multiple laptop tables, so I pulled one out that had legs to use in bed and sat it on top of my current desk. Place my Laptop on Top + Stand Up to Write=Standing Desk.

Now…to stand up and write on!

Do you have any tips to share for maintaining movement while creating or escaping into a good story?

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Grandma Must Die

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About Maureen

Maureen writes stories in the beautiful state of Pennsylvania that boast laughter, light suspense and something magical in the hope of sharing her love of finding the extraordinary in the ordinary world. She writes Paranormal Romance and Fantasy.

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