Sunday, June 2, 2013


     My kindle paperwhite arrived on Friday and so many of you were right, it's wonderful.  It's so small it fits nicely into my purple handbag.  I ordered the purple cover for it and it's a perfect match!!!  
      It's working.  I'm able to sit still now and give my feet, ankles and legs a chance to heal.  I'm still riding the lawn mower to and from the mailbox and outbuildings when I need to get outside.  But, I can't actually mow yet as the vibrations after five minutes set the nerves on fire.  
      Now I have to wonder if this kindle is going to change my life.  Will I no longer jump up at 4 am and go to work in my office and then a quick breakfast and then out to the kennel followed by a quick lunch and then yard work?
      Will I succumb to the life of a couch potato and learn to like it?  I'm on my third book, does that mean I'm growing increasingly more addicted as each day passes?  Will my girlish figure disappear and I'll never leave my reading chair?  Will I talk my husband into moving the small guest room fridge next to my chair?  The small microwave from my writing studio should fit nicely on top.  
       They say when a person is addicted they look for others with like addictions to share so as not to feel guilty.  So I guess that's true.  Starting tomorrow for one week I will be sharing my 12 titles with you on kindle for .99.  After that they return to their original prices.  
       The titles include my Elusive Clue Mystery Series with my sleuth Detective Karst.  My standalone suspense/thriller CORNSTALKED and my two kids adventure books.  Remember the sale will only last for one week, so stock up if you're missing anything from the collection or if you just want to jump in on the sale.  
        A BREATH OF HOT AIR, the short story that Alex Kava and I co-wrote, is not included in the sale.  
         Remember you'd be making the purchase of your own free will.  I don't want to be held responsible for any addictive behavior with a new collection of books to read.  And, I can feel comfortable that I'm not alone escaping from the real world during the day into the world of fiction.  (I must confess I was up at 2am reading in bed and my hubby didn't even know it.)

My adult books are under Patricia Bremmer, my kids books are P.A. Bremmer 



Friday, May 24, 2013


     Can anyone hear me?  Help!  Get me out of here!  Take one author with a vivid imagination, two injured ankles, out in the country, in the middle of nowhere with no one around and what do you have?  Stephen King's Misery you say?  No, you have my life today!!
           Why, oh why, did I choose to read Misery while I'm down and out.  You know how easy it is to relate to characters when you read a story?  Multiple that by ten when you're a writer with an imagination that looks at reality as fiction and fiction as reality and frequently blurs the line.
           Eight weeks ago I injured both feet and ankles slipping on the ice.  Not only did I just slip on the ice like normal people, I did something insanely stupid.  Back in March we'd have a nice day or two followed by a cold snowy day or two.  The rotation of the weather made it difficult to adjust on a daily basis.  Remember, I live out in the country and just to walk to the mailbox I must leave the house, cross an icy deck, down four stairs and make my way through the ice and snow to the mailbox some thirty plus yards away.  And the wind always blows here, and worsens with snow or rain.  
           The sun was shining brightly and the wind had calmed slightly.  It was eleven o'clock and I heard the sound of the mail car and my large over-sized mailbox slamming closed.  I checked the wall thermometer and it wasn't too bad.  I grabbed my coat and looked between my boots and my tennis shoes.  I could quickly slip my feet into the tennis shoes and be out the door, or I could stop, sit down, unlace my boots, slip them on and re-lace them.  Anyone who knows me can confirm that I'm a very, very, very, impatient person.  I rationalized that the snow wasn't very deep, just a few inches, three at the most, except for the drifts, where total depth could be seven to ten inches.
          I slipped into the tennis shoes and opted for the windier but shorter path off the back of the deck.  I changed course once I was actually outdoors because the wind was stiffer than I anticipated.  I managed my way on the uneven ice to the yard gate.  Once out of the yard I noticed my hubby's footprints in the snow leading from the gate, around the house, and to the mailbox.
          "Perfect," I whispered to myself.  I bounced like a bunny from one footprint to the next.  Okay, I'm 5'3" and he's 6'1".  That means his stride is wider.  But, hey I'm agile.  So I happily bounced from one to the next.  But, we had a hard freeze during the night causing the snow lining his footprints to turn to ice after the previous day's thaw.  So each time I planted a foot into his path, I slipped a little and needed to regain my balance.  My biggest fear was falling into the snow.
           I bounced my way to the mailbox and back, slipping and sliding with each step, proudly making my way back to the house without falling or even having a really close call.  Yep, I'm so talented.
           Later that day, my legs and ankles and feet began to ache.  I thought it was nothing more than the typical ache from jogging or riding a bike after a long absence from the activity.  When I tried, and I mean tried, to get out of bed the next day the pain shot up both legs simultaneously.  After walking around a bit the pain eased and I could manage.
          I took aspirin and pretended nothing was wrong.  We had six of our grandkids here for the Easter break and I wanted to cry out in pain from all the running here and there preparing meals and all that goes with hosting a weekend.  My aspirin bottle lost more contents than it had in the previous year in just one weekend.
         To compound matters we had just removed the carpet (you remember the skunked carpet...previous blog) and put in hardwood floors.  Now my legs had to grow accustomed to walking non-stop on hard surfaces which seemed to aggravate the situation.
         As time went on, one leg was considerably better and most people had no idea of my injury.  I could make it until afternoon before I had to give in and sit or lie down.  I thought I was improving.  But it seemed to plateau for one foot, leg and ankle.  Finally, I went to my chiropractor and he decreased the pain by 50%, more if I stayed off of it.
        So no or lessened pain meant I could do more and I would. Then the pain would return with a vengeance punishing me for not staying put.   Last visit to the doc it was agreed that I would stay off of it and use crutches and a brace.
       So I ordered a kindle paperwhite to entice me to stay put in my favorite reading chair and read.  Until it arrives later today I decided to read MISERY having loved the movie.  Now as an author I have a greater appreciation for the storyline.  Today I read a scene where Annie, the crazy woman, kills the deputy and opens both doors to her barn and drives the cruiser inside and pulls the heavy barn doors closed, hiding it from the world.
        Picture this.  It's cold, rainy and dreary.  I'm alone in the house, my ankle is wrapped, I'm on crutches hobbling through the house, knowing I can't use the crutches to get upstairs or downstairs.  I'm on pain relievers and bored.  I called my hubby to chat and see if he could come home for lunch.  That's when he told me he heard the weather could turn bad and he opened the double doors to one of the outbuildings on our farm and drove my car inside to protect it.  He told me the doors are sticking and there is no way I'd be able to open them.  Then he said he would be in an area without phone reception for awhile today.
      So, not only can I not easily walk over a quarter of a mile from the house to the building that he tucked my car into, but the mud would make it impossible on crutches and if I miraculously made my way there I couldn't open the doors.
      Are we seeing the parallels?  Damaged ankles, drugs, solitude, farm setting, mud, no vehicle....tell me this is not directly out of MISERY.   And Detective Karst stopped by this morning to feed his horse and most likely noticed my car missing from the driveway and assumed I was  not home!!!!  Fortunately for him he left alive!!
       I just need to take a deep breath, relax, I have not been physically pulled into the pages of a Stephen King novel.  I'm fine, the pain is tolerable.  I will be released this afternoon when my hubby returns to take me to the doctor's office.  Now, the big question is should I read the final 45 pages of the book?  Will I feel better or worse?  Will the author who is trapped inside of the house in the country with no means of escape make it?  Will I find relief?  Will the similarity between the events of my day and the book fade and separate?
       Again,.....why did I choose MISERY to read under the circumstances?  I used to think I was fairly intelligent....but now I must wonder.

Sunday, March 10, 2013


     Day one after the blizzard and I'm feeling trapped.  I don't like cold weather and I like snow drifts even less.  My three westies don't like being housebound either.  When your legs are short it's tough to navigate the drifts.  I know because I have short legs as well.  
     At least with the dogs inside there are fewer surprises being brought in from outdoors. 
         Tucker, the oldest, one day a few years ago came bounding into the house happy as a lark and jumped into the air landing on my visiting editor's lap.  Fortunately, she is a dog lover.  She happily petted him and then asked what that smell was.  With Tucker, who knows.  
     I instructed him to get down and when he did we noticed something on my editor's shirt.  Upon closer examination we realized it was the entrails from a rodent.  Yep, that's right, my sweet adorable little westie rolled on top of a dead mouse...they just love the perfume of a dead animal.  So, embarrassed, I helped clean mouse guts from my editor's shirt.  What's a little kidney or liver bits to a dog lover. 
      My cat, Echo, loves to get onto the dining room table and play with small items like paperclips, pens, pencils, or anything else small enough to play table hockey with.  But eventually she misses and onto the floor it goes.       Emily, my little girl westie, has an oral fixation issue.  She must always carry a toy or stick around in her mouth.  She's the first one to find the items on the floor.  Have you ever seen a white westie after it chews up a black ink gel pen?  Not a pretty sight, nor is anything she may have recently rubbed her face on.
     I used to chase her around the the dining room into my office, back through the dining room, into the kitchen and back again trying to get her to release the stolen object.  Frequently, she would run out the doggie door and then I'd have to search the grass for whatever it was that she was carrying around.  
    Then it hit me.  The magic word...."cookie" would cause her not only come to me, but drop at my feet whatever she had in her mouth to snatch a delicious dog cookie from my fingers.  
    The game was on.  
     Emily would bring a stick into the house to chew to bits on the carpet, but if I asked her to bring it to me for a cookie I could toss the stick into the trash and avoid the mess.  Then she learned to just bring the stick directly to me at my desk while I was writing my latest book and she would get a cookie.  
     Over several months she brought sticks and twigs, rocks, paperclips, pens, pencils, erasers, bread twist-ties, marbles, anything she could find for a cookie reward.  
     I was so proud of my little girl.  I bragged to my hubby each time she traded her find for a cookie.  
    One day I was deeply involved in a scene I was writing when she came to me.  She sat patiently at my feet with something in her mouth.  I told her to wait.  I kept writing.  She whined.  I wrote faster, looking deeply into my screen trying to get my thoughts down before they slipped from my mind.  
     She whined and stood up to my leg scratching it with her paws.  I patted her head and told her to wait once more.  I kept writing.  Then she leaped into my lap and dropped a live baby mouse.  If you have read my other blog entries you know I don't like mice.  I screamed.  She wouldn't take it off, she wouldn't get up so  I could stand and this little mouse was running around my lap heading up my shirt.  I screamed louder and my hubby came running in, grabbed the mouse and disposed of it.  All the while Emily was waiting for her cookie.  
    Of course my hubby laughed and blamed me for teaching her to bring her prizes to me.  After I regained my composure, I went to the kitchen and rewarded her with a cookie.
   She gobbled it up and ran outside.  She quickly returned through the doggie door and raced to my feet with another gift.  This time I stopped typing to look.  There, hanging out the corner of her mouth, was a mouse tail.  I stood on my chair screaming and my hubby coaxed the mouse from her mouth and I, of course, gave her a cookie.  
    Moments later we repeated the scene.  I'm screaming, my husband is laughing and Emily is happily wagging her tail.  
    It appears she found a nest of baby mice and brought a total of five live mice to me in exchange for five cookies. 
    Emily continues to bring items to me in exchange for cookies, but I have learned to be extremely cautious.   If you've ever owned a westie you'd understand how clever and full of surprises they can be.