Gaming Anyone???

Hello all! I’m sorry I’ve been M.I.A for a few days, but I may have a solution for that! I haven’t been blogging because I was….. GAMING! *gasp*

“but, Nicole, you’re a READER!!” Yes, yes…. I know. But, I’ll let you in on a big secret. I AM A HUGE GEEK!!

A lot of my followers and people that I follow already know about my love of Anime and manga, some of you know about my love of Korean Dramas… Now, it’s out. I’m also a gamer geek. Video games, card games, board games, table top, pen and paper. You name it, I’ll play it!

Well, since the start of my blog in November I haven’t had any time for gaming and it’s made me very sad… (I have such a back log because I haven’t stopped BUYING games. Just PLAYING them! Lol!) So, I’m putting a proposition out there. Would anyone out there be interesting me doing a gaming segment twice a month? I’d really like to know all of your thoughts. I know I cover a lot as it is with my food and drink and book reviews… But, it would give me an excuse to go back to my games without feeling guilty about it!!

Let me know in the comments below and if I get some positive feedback then maybe I’ll add it to my repitoire!

Darcy Swipes Left (An OMG Classic)


The Jane Austen Fangirl in me: 1 out of 5

The Whimsical Silly Girl in me: 5 out of 5

Overall Rating?? 3 out of 5

Well, this post is going to be fairly short and sweet because there isn’t a whole lot to say about it except…OMG is correct!! HA HA HA! I don’t even know what to say about this one. I’ve been trying to be good and not post reviews on my JAFF (Jane Austen Fan Fiction) But,with this one I COULDN’T HELP MYSELF!!

Pride and Prejudice told entirely through social media and emojis…. being a Noob in the social media world I actually had to highlight some of the acronyms to look up what they meant!!

Don’t hate me for not understanding these… and try not to laugh when I tell you what I had to look up.. But, for all of those out there who are NOT down/up?? with all the Terms:

SMH: Shaking My Head

TBT: Throwback Thursday

IMHO: In My Humble Opinion

OTP: One True Pairing

NTM: Not Too Much

And for those of you who decide to check out this book THERE’S A LEGEND AT THE BACK THAT TELLS YOU WHAT ALL THE TERMS MEAN!!! THAT would have been nice to know when I was Google searching all of these terms! Lol!!

For a taste of how the book reads.. here you go!

“From: Jane Bennet To: Lizzy Bennet

Subject: Lonely in London Lizzy!

It’s been 4 weeks and I still haven’t run into Bingley. 😣His sister waited 2 weeks(!) to say hi. 😳When she did come over, she was so incredibly rude. I don’t want 2 b friends 👭 w/ her anymore. Maybe she’s protective of Bingley?? But that doesn’t make sense bc he’s completely ghosted 👻me anyway. No📱 , no 📩, no✉ . Nothing. 😳💔Caroline even said he knew I was here. Maybe I’ll never find 💓. Time to start collecting 🐱s! Hope things are better on your end. xox Jane”

I thought this book was very humorous and really well done just because of the characters and how I could TOTALLY see them on social media!!

Mrs. Bennet: Mrs. Bennet took a quiz. Using one emoji, describe your daughters.

Jane: 😇

Lizzy: 💡

Mary: 📚

Kitty: 😍

Lydia: 😘

👍Kitty likes this. REPLY

But, then seeing Darcy calling Elizabeth Lizzie and using things like #SorryNotSorry had my Jane Austen fangirl heart breaking… Lol! It was definitely one of those books that I’m happy I read, but it also hurt to read it!!

Darcy Swipes Left is Best Served With

Emoji Beer….ok, Fuller’s London Pride

So, I wanted to cheers the beer like my FAVOURITE emoji!! 🍻🍻🍻🍻And Fuller’s LONDON PRIDE?? Come On! “London”?? “PRIDE”?? Get it?? *wink wink* *nudge nudge* Ok…well, I thought it was funny. Lol!!


But I Digress… The Netflix Black Hole

So, I was folding laundry yesterday, and when I do that I like to throw something on the T.V that I don’t necessarily want to pay attention to. So, enter the Netflix Black Hole.

So, I know that most of you have probably experienced this, or something similar. I definitely have. You are watching a show that you like and you think “… Just one more episode!” and then Netflix starts it and you think “well, it’s meant to be!” …

Well, that’s not what happened to me.

I found a show called “Nailed It” …

Now I apologize to anyone who likes this show. I started watching this… And It. Was. Awful.

It was so awful. False writing, hosts who have no experience, over-acting. I was folding my laundry thinking “this is awful… This is do Awful..”

Then all of a sudden I was on the 4th episode. I was busy and Netflix just keeps going to the next episode.. And I just think, “well, why not.”

Now, I understand doing this with shows that I’m really enjoying, but, hen I just somehow wasted 2 hrs on something horrible?? Then I realized the other things you could be doing in that timeframe!!

I wonder why I spent so much time watching this show that was Just. So. Awful….. Why?? Can somebody please tell me?? How do you DO that to us Netflix?? *shakes fist*

Happy National Potato Chip Day!!

National Potato Chip Day?!?! UMMM… YES, PLEASE?? Everyone, grab your favourite bag of chips! …. I’ve got mine!

and let’s DO THIS!!

And, now for my recipe!! Or… the food I chose to make on this glorious Day to celebrate this glorious Snack food!!

Why, Nicole… Is that an Everything Bagel with Cream Cheese and Ketchup Chips?? WHY, YES IT IS!!

I know you all expected a classy recipe, because I’m usually better than this! But, this is my guilty pleasure… MY FAVOURITE thing to eat when I just want to be a disgusting glutton… And when you all try it, I will become a thing of LEGEND!! Ok. Maybe not. But, it’s really good!! And what goes better with it than a nice cold beer?!

Carol… I’m sorry if you see this post, as you can see my healthy eating is not starting today!! Lol!

I hope you all enjoy your day!!


But I Digress… R.I.P David Ogden Stiers

Well, I’m a little behind the times on this one, as it occurred on March 3, 2018, but I try not to pay too much attention to the deaths of celebrities as most of my favourites are at an age where it just makes me sad to pay attention….

As a book reviewer/drink connoisseur I don’t talk much about my favourite films and T.V shows… well, M*A*S*H is one of my FAVOURITE shows!! Such wonderful characters, hilarious comedy and heart-wrenching drama. It was just all in all 11 seasons of Wonderful. So, needless to say I was very unhappy to hear that David Ogden Stiers had passed away at 75 after a battle with bladder cancer.


His character (Maj. Charles Emerson Winchester III) may not have been the favourite of some. He was a later addition after Larry Linville (Maj. Frank Burns) leaves the cast and he is definitely the new prissy one of the bunch. Coming from a privileged family he thinks himself better than everyone, but being in these horrible times in this horrible place… even he begins to realize that you’re either with them, or you’re against them. He becomes a loved part of the cast and has a lot of growth as a character and I will miss him dearly!

You may also remember his very distinctive and distinguished voice from MANY Disney favourites!

Cogsworth from “Beauty and the Beast”


BOTH Governor Ratcliffe/Wiggins from “Pocahontas” He was the Villain AND the wormy sidekick! That’s how versatile he was!



And the Archdeacon from “Hunchback of Notre Dame”

arch deacon

He was in so many other things that you should all look up and enjoy! I just wanted to take a moment to remember his amazing work.

rip charles

Orconomics :A Satire


4 out of 5 Stars

A story of the Economics of Heroes. A Fantastical take on Modern Society showing a side of  Fantasy that you probably haven’t thought of! Sure, those of us who have played D&D (Dungeons & Dragons) know that we adventure to acquire loot to sell and buy better gear, etc… But, how many people really have their hands in that pie?? What take of that loot is actually ours to spend? In a Fantasy World where Heroes are sponsored by Corporations, and the Heroes Guild has made being a Hero into a career, there don’t seem to be any real heroes left.. just a bottom line,

“Surely you’re familiar with our gross domestic product.”

“Of course I am. Why do ye think I’m drinking imported?” said Gorm, shaking his tankard at the noctomancer. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“No, I mean our GDP-the total value of everything that’s made or done in the Freedlands. It’s a big number, but if you break it down, four out of every ten giltin are linked with professional heroics.”

“Forty percent of the economy is loot?” said Kaitha.

“Loot, or plunder funds, or weapons and armor manufacturing, or potion brewers, or inns that cater to adventurers, or hoard-appraising, and so on,” said the noctomancer. “There’s a lot of work done and products sold to support questing heroes. If we stopped, what happens to the workers and the sellers? They’d lose everything. They’d starve in the streets.”

But, what if that’s not all there is to it? What if there could be real heroes still out there?

Gorm Ingerson is a washed up ex-hero. After tales of him running away from the dungeon of the Spider King and his whole party being wiped out became a thing of legend and song… So, did his legacy. Now he drinks and steals and does what he must to get by.

When a chance encounter with an old friend proves that sometimes over-embibing can be costly to one’s health.. In more ways than one! He finds himself signed up for a Quest he can’t get out of, part of a Prophesy he doesn’t care about and part of a Party he doesn’t want to be a part of. Best to just get this over with, retrieving the Elven Marbles from Myrewood Forest (and just the OUTSKIRT of it) couldn’t be THAT hard.. Could it?


This book was so unexpected! When I saw Satire, I feel that I was expecting more of a spoof. It’s definitely a subtle commentary on modern society and the things we, as geeks, don’t think about the workings of in all of these magical lands that we read about. I loved the stark reality of it spelled out for us! This book was amusing at times with veiled (or not so veiled) references, can you figure this one out??

“Gorm looked up at a tiny winged figure glowing with such intense blue light that it seemed to be standing in a sphere. “Blood and ashes,” he swore. “A search sprite”

“All they are is a bit of knowledge with a mouth,” Gorm told Gleebek as they walked. “They only exist to tell ye obvious things, so they don’t shut up till they wear off. Could be days.”

“Hey! Listen!” shrieked the sprite.

Anyone who played a certain beloved adventure game should recognize it!! Lol!

I loved all of the references to the typical Fantasy tropes!

“”No, no,” said Gorm. “I ain’t splitting the party. She’s making a joke, lad”

“So splitting the party is bad, then?” said Niln.

“You never split the party,” said Laruna.

“It’s right in the Heroes’ Guild Handbook,” said Jynn.

“Someone always wanders off to grab something shiny or test a lever or something, and the next thing you know they’re coming back with some horrible monster following them,” said Kaitha.

“Usually when you’re in the middle of a massive fight with something else,” said Gorm.

“If they come back at all,” said Heraldin.”

But, it was serious as well. The characters were all very well written and relatable… weird thing to say about Fantasy characters. But, they were quite the down to earth misfit group of Fantasy characters, so everyone will definitely understand the feelings and growth within the motley band!

Gleebek, the friendly Goblin/Squire

Heraldin, the would-be womanizing Bard/”acquisition specialist”

Jynn and Laruna the opposing Noctomancer and Solamancer

Kaitha, the Elixir addicted Ranger who used to be something

Gaist, mysteriously never speaks and was the first volunteer for the Quest

And Niln, the “Seventh Hero” who recruits them all  “I’d say you have a destiny, and choices are the steps you take to reach it.”

Gorm was the best character! I believe he was described best by party, Kaitha,  “Beneath his curmudgeonly facade was, well, yes, a genuine curmudgeon who clearly cared for her.” He can be abrasive, uncaring, and rude… but he’s the Mother Hen you never knew you always wanted! He’s a Dwarf with a big heart and someone you want fighting on your side.

This book really gets you thinking about the World beyond the Fantasy. It brings it to a  real place and has you questioning what makes someone a “Hero”.

“Niln eventually broke the silence. “I always thought of heroes as these paragons, archetypes of man,” he said. “The best we had to offer. That’s what the stories and ballads tell us. They’re just average people with pure hearts and righteous intentions, and then… I don’t know… things just work out for them. They save the day. And it’s not because they’re strong or skilled or have ridiculously sharp flaming swords. I mean, maybe they have strength and skill and weapons, but the villain has those things too. They’re not the reason the heroes win because they’re good.”

Gorm sighed. “But those are just stories. The truth is that mankind needs to be defended from monsters, and doing as much takes stone-hearted killers. There ain’t no honor in it. It’s a job. Sometimes, the ones who are best at it ain’t much better than the monsters themselves.”

I can’t wait to continue my journey with the party. If you want to learn about Dwarven Reproduction, God’s Middle Management,  and Elixir Addiction (who doesn’t?!) I really recommend this book!!

Learn more about J. Zachary Pike and his works at His Website, Facebook, Twitter @jzacharypike

Also, pick up the book yourself on:


Audible Canada

Audible US

Orconomics: A Satire is Best Served With

J. Zachary Pike’s Healing Elixir

O.K…. So, it’s actually an Amaretto Sour… But, when he let me know that it was one of his go to drinks… It was all that I could think about. I actually had a different drink planned and he had me throwing all thought out the window for just a sip of that wonderful Elixir. Which, is EXACTLY the type of drink I was looking for!!

In a Fantasy world where Heroes become addicted to their Healing Elixir’s

After that much exposure to sorcerous healing, a person could begin to like the sensation of the elixirs, or even to need it. The streets of Arth’s cities were littered with ex-heroes who had become too dependent on salve to adventure, or to find another job, or to do anything beyond acquire more healing potions.”

I thought that it would be great to make an Elixir of my own! Just drink in moderation! I don’t need you all begging for more! There are SO MANY ways to make this drink… I just went with a super simple basic sour.



  • 2 oz Amaretto (ok… I used Disaronno, which is technically and amaretto LIKE liqueur… whatever!)
  • 1 oz Lemon Juice
  • 1/5 oz simple syrup (if you don’t like a lot of lemon bite)
  • optional Maraschino cherries for garnish


  1. Put liqueur, lemon juice and simple syrup (if you use it… I find it sweet enough on it’s own.. but, I pretty much have ZERO sweet tooth) in a shaker with NO ice. Shake just to mix (you can really just put it in the glass and stir if you prefer, but I find that it just never mixes properly that way)
  2. Pour into a glass filled with ice
  3. Garnish with cherries if you wish
  4. CHEERS!!


Facebook Group: Sharing, Inspiring, Promoting Bloggers

This is a FABULOUS idea from The Recipe Hunter! Everyone should take advantage of this wonderful chance for us to all help each other out!

The Recipe Hunter


Would you like to join us on Facebook?  I am not sure if you know, but we now also have a Facebook Group called Sharing, Inspiring, Promoting Bloggers

View original post 235 more words

Mrs. Saint and the Defectives

mrs saint.jpg

4 out of 5 Stars

When Markie’s marriage falls apart after her husband has an affair that goes public (if he had just kept it quiet, they could have worked it out!) Markie packs up her things and her son Jesse and moves to a small bungalow that is complete with no room, and a very nosy neighbour to make that cramped space seem even more cramped!

“Markie’s property was tiny—there were only a few feet of lawn space between the house and the property line. This meant that neither Markie nor Mrs. Saint could have a conversation in their yards, or even inside their houses if the windows were open, without the other hearing. Markie had taken to whispering to Jesse when they spoke on the patio and to making sure her kitchen window was closed before she called down the basement stairs to let him know the pizza was ready, or that she was going up to her bedroom to watch TV, or any other announcement that might elicit a disapproving finger wag from her neighbor. She made work-related phone calls from the patio from time to time but never personal ones—those she took inside, from the corner of her bedroom farthest away from her neighbor’s house.”

Mrs. Saint Denis (or just Mrs. Saint to those who will just butcher the pronunciation of her name), complete with her Defectives (what she calls those who work for her) are on a mission to take charge of Markie’s life. From trying to hang her artwork, to giving her advice about how to raise and feed her Son, Markie can’t seem to get what she thinks she wants in life… which is just some peace and quiet. She doesn’t need these strangers pushing their way into her life… or does she? And why is Mrs. Saint so secretive? She wants to pry into all aspects of Markie and Jesse’s life, but she will not give anything in return. Is she really who she says she is?



From the closer vantage point, Markie could see she had been generous in her estimate of seventy-five years and one hundred pounds—she should have added ten years and subtracted as many pounds. The woman wore an expensive-looking linen suit, and diamonds flashed from her ears, collarbone, and a few fingers, making Markie wonder if part of the reason she seemed so cross was that she and her equally well-dressed husband were being kept from some important event. Before Markie could tell the woman they needn’t have disrupted their plans, a jeweled finger wagged in her face. But only barely—the tiny woman had to stretch her arm high to get it close to Markie’s chin.

“The small boxes, I was prepared to let you take,” she said in a thick French accent. “Even avec la pluie—with the rain. And then les autres petites choses—the other small things. Those lamps, the pillows, your suitcases, and the such.”

Markie and Jesse exchanged glances. It was clear their new neighbor had been watching as they unloaded the truck.

“Mais, une table?” she continued. “Et . . .” She leaned around them, peering into the truck at the couches and bed frames waiting to be carried inside. “Non. Ce n’est pas raisonnable!” She put one blue-veined hand on Markie’s arm, the other on Jesse’s, and steered them to the giant oak tree on the lawn beside the driveway. They could hear the rain pelting the canopy of leaves above, but not a drop made it through. “We will wait here,” she said, “in the underneath, and let them finish.”

Jesse seemed thrilled for the break, but Markie checked her watch and said, “I appreciate the help. I really do. But I have to get the truck back in less than an hour. So we need all hands on deck here, including the four of ours.” She indicated her hands and her son’s, and motioned for the boy to go with her to the truck. He widened his eyes in protest, and she was about to snap, “Jesse—now!” when the hand on her arm clamped more tightly.

“Non,” the woman said, with a single hard shake of her head. “This will not help. You will be getting in their way only.”

She pointed to the walkway leading to the bungalow, where the older man was practically running with Jesse’s futon mattress on his head while the younger one trotted along behind with an ottoman balanced on a TV stand. The elder worked his way into the house and was outside again, holding the screen door wide, by the time his partner reached him.

“Thanks,” the younger man said.

The other responded, “De rien,” before jogging back to the truck.

As much as Markie resented being held hostage under her own (for the length of her lease term) tree, she realized the woman was right—she and Jesse would only interrupt the men’s choreography. She could see inside the truck, and she was amazed at the progress they had made already. Thanks to them, she was certain to make it back to the rental place in time. Plus, her son was enjoying the rest, and the truth was, she and her aching muscles were, too. So she stood under the oak tree with Jesse and their petite captor and allowed her weary body to enjoy the break.

From time to time, she saw the older man look over at the woman, who lowered her chin or turned her head or raised a shoulder, each gesture garnering an understanding nod from him, after which he issued a soft-voiced command to the younger one. She’s an ancient infield coach in jewels and pumps, Markie thought. Even better: she’s Yoda in a St. John suit.

Smiling to herself, she tried to catch Jesse’s eye to let him know she had something funny to tell him. She could picture his slow, tilted nod and half grin as he said, “Nice one, Mom.” But he was staring down the street, and when he turned back to her, his lips were twisted, his way of cutting off a frown before it could take hold.

Markie realized, too late, that he must have been on watch again for Kyle, and that the self-congratulatory grin on her face was not the right response for a boy whose father was now more than two hours late. He untwisted his lips, allowing his frown to fully form before it morphed into a scowl, and Markie could hear the words he wasn’t saying: We wouldn’t have needed his help moving in the first place if you hadn’t divorced him and then sold my childhood home!

Before she could readjust her mouth into a more sympathetic shape, he let out a huff and turned, and she could tell he was about to walk away. Distance and silence: Jesse’s two answers to any conflict lately. He took a step, but before he could take a second, the old woman reached out her other hand and caught him by the back of his shirt, and to Markie’s surprise, Jesse took a step backward, returning to his original position.

“Oui,” the woman said, patting his arm. “You will stay.” He nodded obediently, but he didn’t look at her, and he would not meet his mother’s gaze.

To break the tension, Markie tried to introduce herself and her son to her new neighbor, but she could only get out “By the way, my name is—” before the other woman gave a quick, emphatic shake of her head and raised an index finger to her lips.

“See-lonce,” she whispered, gesturing with her chin to the men on the ramp as though they were competitors at a golf tournament and any noise might cause them to miss the championship shot.

My God, she’s bossy, Markie thought, more amused than irritated. It was one thing for the woman to assume Jesse would obey; he was a child. But for her to expect another adult to accede, particularly an adult who (unbeknownst to the older woman) had spent decades perfecting the art of ignoring her own parents’ commands, was so unreasonable it was funny. Markie flashed the woman a magnanimous smile. She has no idea who she’s dealing with.

“I really must get back to it,” she said, taking a step toward the house. She wasn’t eager to resume carrying things, but she could hold the door open for the men, at least, direct them where to set things down, clear a path for them among the boxes and other items she and Jesse had tossed haphazardly inside the door earlier.

The grip on Markie’s arm tightened. “Attendez. Wait.”

Had it sounded like another command, Markie might have laughed and walked off, but the woman’s words were quiet this time, with no hard edge of instruction. Her mouth was softer, too, no longer set in a ferocious line, and as she tracked the men’s movements, Markie could see a certain brightness in her eyes, the kind Markie’s own took on when she watched Jesse do something clever.

“Attendez,” she said again, even more quietly, the word more a declaration of wonder than a command, and because Markie knew how lovely it was to feel what the other woman seemed to be feeling, she stopped trying to talk or move. Instead, she looked down at the gray-white curls, immaculately set, of the person forcing her and Jesse to stand there together, and she smiled.

The “common” in “common enemy” was a start. It would give Jesse and her something to talk about later, at least. Something to shake their heads at and laugh about: the crazy old neighbor lady who spied on them for who knew how long before bolting out of her house to bark orders at them in French. How she held them captive for so long despite being half Markie’s weight and a quarter Jesse’s height. The way she managed, with nothing more than a series of well-timed nods, one or two words, and the grip of a hand, to choreograph both the rapid unloading of a moving truck and a brief détente between a reticent teen and his mother.”


What a beautiful, funny book!! I love Mrs. Saint and all of her “Defectives” Even though, as Markie points out, that may not be the nicest thing to call them! Ronda, the cook who can’t cook, Bruce, the gardener who takes more time re-planting things than doing anything else, Patty, the maid who spend more time sitting outside smoking than actually cleaning ANYTHING and Frederick…. no one really knows what he does! They are characters who just get more and more lovable as the story delves deeper and deeper into their lives and how they came to work for the mysterious Mrs. Saint. Even characters who hold little importance were AMAZINGLY written! One of my favourite characters was Markie’s boss, Gregory. He’s not in it a lot, but everything involving him had me laughing out loud!!

““So . . . ,” he said, and when no other words came to him, he rocked on his heels and balled up his fists, holding them a foot or so apart. Stepping forward, he took what she believed was meant to be a golf swing. “I’ve been looking at your numbers from the past two weeks,” he said. He looked past her, pretending to watch his invisible ball land, then flattened a palm and used it as a visor to shield his eyes from the imaginary sun. “Ah, there it is,” he said. “Right near the, uh, cup . . . thing. With the, um, flag.””

“Gregory clasped his hands over his head and attempted a side bend, but the weight shift put him off balance, and he had to thrust an arm out against the wall of a nearby cube to catch himself. Recovering, he patted the cube wall as though he had been making a planned inspection of it all along, and then he shuffled back into the center of the hallway. He wiped a great deal of sweat from his forehead, checked his step-counter again, and smiled.”

This book made me laugh, and it made me cry. It was an amazing story with even better characters! There is so much to reveal and so much growth within it that you never want it to end!

Mrs. Saint and the Defectives is Best Served with 

A French 75 Cocktail

This was the PERFECT COCKTAIL for this book! Not only is it classic and refined like Mrs Saint, it’s also French and 75 is Mrs. Saint’s EXACT AGE!! ….or IS IT?? Lol! You’ll have to read it to find out!!

french 75.jpg


  • 1 or 2 ounces gin (depending on your taste)
  • 1 teaspoon simple syrup
  • 1/2 ounce fresh lemon juice
  • 4 ounces Champagne


  1. Pour the liquor, juice, and syrup into a cocktail shaker with ice cubes.
  2. Shake well.
  3. Strain into a chilled Champagne flute that is at least half full of ice.
  4. Carefully fill with Champagne
  5.  CHEERS!!

Horror in 100 Words

100 word horror.jpg

5 out of 5 Stars

Well, since this is pretty self-explanatory, it as an Anthology of Horror Stories (or Drabbles) each told in 100 words. So, I will skip the synopsis and go straight in to a couple of my favourite stories and my GUSHING praise!!

I can’t tell you all how much I LOVED this Anthology!! It is so hard to give you all examples of the amazing stories in this because I found myself highlighting almost every story in it! Lol!! The different views on what a Horror Story should be were amazing, so many different thoughts! Some were gruesome, some were psychological, some were scary because it deals in Reality and really makes you think, and some were silly… but in a scary kind of way!

I’m going to share a couple of MY personal favourites with you, but I’m not going to tell you which category they fall into so you will have to figure it out!!

Just a Game

Christopher Motz 

Jack gave each of his four friends a small, clear capsule and took his place in the circle.
“How does this game work?” Jenna asked.
“You all wait and see who can last the longest,” he replied.
“But if we’re all going to be trippin’, who’s going to be keeping time?” Mary asked.
“I will,” Jack replied.
“This is stupid,” Brian laughed. “Who ever heard of a game where the point is to stay high the longest?”
“Well that’s the fun part,” Jack smiled. “I didn’t give you acid.”

“Oh, it’s Ecstasy,” Jason shouted happily.
 “Nope,” Jack laughed, “it’s cyanide.”

Best of Friends

Stefan Lear

I’m a people person. I value the bonds, the memories, I create with another person. I’m not into superficial friendships, though. I want to explore relationships that will last a lifetime. I want to know you inside and out. I’ll do whatever it takes to completely and utterly understand my friends. It’s my belief that you never really know someone until you’ve looked someone in the eye as they beg for their life. “I’m sorry,” were the last words whimpered with his final breath. His eyes faded dull and all life left his body. I am not a superficial friend.


Disregarded Advice

Ike Hamill

He cowers under the blankets, holding his breath, knowing that…
…two more will come.
A few days ago, when the pounding first came, he convinced himself that it was only a vivid dream. Two nights ago, he blamed the wind and spent the next day securing the shutters on the north side of the house.
When he was a boy, his mother warned him.
“The third time it comes, don’t be home.”
For two days, he could have been on the road, getting far away.
“It will come for blood,” she said.
He hears the doorknob click.

A Demonic Pact

Billy San Juan

There’s a demon in my bedroom. It follows me with its fiery eyes, daring me to escape. I tried to run already, but he roared, and I fell. My arm landed on the corner of the dresser. I can already feel the bruise forming. It knows the bruise hurts. It knows to grab me by the arm, to squeeze the bruise. To cover my mouth with his clawed talon so I can’t scream. I’ve been trapped with this demon before, but I can usually escape. Not tonight. Tonight, I think I will die. I can’t believe I married this man.

And the creme de la creme. In the midst of all the “Stormy” Weather going on, I’m sure you will all appreciate this one! 

Knock knock.. 

C.S Anderson

They were at the fucking door.
They had found her.
She was sure she had masked her path to this place, scrubbed it squeaky damn clean, as a mater of fact, but she must have screwed up somewhere because here they were.
Knocking at her damn door.
She took a moment to consider her options.
It didn’t take long.
They all sucked.
Which just meant picking the one that sucked the least.
Which also sucked.
Moving gingerly to the door, she undid the security chain with shaking hands.
“Trump Supporters!” they chirp at her.

God help her…

This is just a TINY TASTE of what this Anthology has to offer! These writers are all so talented, I wish I could have showcased them all… but, that would sort of defeat the purpose! I really took my time with this one and just read a story here and there to savour it and really think about each story! Some of them are so deep for only 100 words!! I honestly can’t recommend this book ENOUGH!!

Kevin J. Kennedy himself said it best in his Afterword when he says

“I always feel that every book takes you on a journey, with anthologies often taking you on several. The stories in this book are extremely short, but I think all of the authors involved packed a lot into them. I hope you enjoyed our anthology of drabbles and, if you are new to flash fiction, I hope we have made a convert of you.”

I really hope that you allow yourself to be converted and get this book! The nice thing about each story being so short is that you can pick it up and read a little any time! (it would make a great bathroom book! Some of the stories may even scare the crap out of you!! Lol! To get things started, I’m going to give you links to go pick up a copy for yourself!!

Amazon US 

Amazon Canada

Amazon UK

Also, check out other AMAZING titles by Kevin at

his website:

his Facebook:

and his Twitter: @KevinJKennedy01

100 Word Horrors is Best Served with 

A Bloody Orange Cocktail

bloody orange

bloody orange 2

To go with the horror theme I had to find a horror cocktail! I found this one at HGTV

The pictures are all mine though and it was a great drink!! Super fun!! Can’t wait to try it out on others around Halloween!!!


  • 4 ounces vodka
  • 2 ounces Licor 43
  • 8 ounces Orangina or 1:3 orange juice to club soda (I went with the OJ mix because I find orange drinks disgusting! Lol!)
  • 3 ounces raspberry syrup (recipe follows)
  • 1 orange
  • plastic syringes (available at party stores)
Yield: 4 cocktails


1. Puree 2 cups of fresh raspberries in a food processor. Press the puree through a fine mesh strainer to extract the pulp, then discard the seeds.

2. Place the puree in a small saucepan with 1/4 cup of sugar. Heat over medium-low heat, stirring frequently until thick and dark (about 10 minutes) and let cool

3.Fill each syringe with .75 ounces of raspberry syrup and set aside

4. Add vodka and Licor43 to a shaker with ice, shake until very cold (about 20 seconds). Add Orangina and stir. Pour into iced glasses and place filled syringes in drinks.

5. Add an orange wedge to the side of each glass and serve.





4 out of 5 Stars

As with all aristocracy. The beauty is only skin deep but the betrayal is through and through..

In a society where the Firstborn is the Aristocracy, the Secondborn are the labour workers and soldiers and the Thirdborn is unheard of and the parents of such are killed on discovery.

“We, the firstborns, must rule. It is our birthright to sacrifice our own for the protection of the Fates. It is an honor for secondborns to serve as champions in this proud tradition—to give their lives to their Fate and to the call of service.””

The Secondborn daughter of the Sword (the Matriarch of this society) Roselle Sword, awaits her Fate on her Transition Day.

“The destiny of our once-great nation lies in the palms of our hands, and never more than today—Transition Day.” I’m unable to suppress a shudder. Transition Day. I’ve heard the words often over the eighteen years of my life. It’s the stuff of nightmares, what people say when they want to scare you: one day soon you’ll become a stranger to the people you love. A picture in a frame. I’ve always known today would come. I thought I’d be ready for it. I’m not.”

When she is put into the lowest position in the Infantry, she knows that her life will never be the same.

“Tiny brown holographic swords project from the lapel of my new, dirt-colored uniform. Tropo. I try not to wince. The emblem denotes the lowest secondborn rank in the military, the mark of the infantry—the expendables. My throat constricts.”

She will be following orders from now on. She will be trained, told how to wear her hair, when to eat and when to sleep. But, things aren’t always as they seem. The system is corrupt and there are people out there who wish to change the Political field. But, who do you trust? The “Gardeners” of the “Rose Garden Society” who want to take down Roselle’s brother so she can step up to become the Sword? Hawthorn, how has been by her side and seems to want to help her? Her Mother? Or is no one who they say they are…

““It outlived its usefulness, so it was killed. There’s something to be learned in that.”

“Never outlive my usefulness?”

“Never, ever trust the pack.””


“Dune growls low. “You don’t have to do this,” he says bitterly. “Roselle’s still too young. She’s not ready for war!”

Othala sobers. She narrows her eyes at her assembled staff. “Leave us.” Clara and Emmitt nearly bump into each other in their hurry to the door. I turn to follow them out.

“Stay, Roselle,” Dune commands.

I hesitate, looking to Mother for confirmation. She remains silent until the others have left, closing the bronze doors behind them, then whirls to face Dune. “It’s done,” she says, sneering.

“You can undo it,” Dune insists. “You can save Roselle.” He is rigid with barely suppressed anger, except for one hand, which twitches near the sword sheathed at his waist. My eyes widen. I know his aggressive posture well. It’s the stance he uses before he attacks.

“You underestimate her,” my mother replies. “She’s resilient and capable of surviving whatever is thrown at her. She has my blood.”

“You will spill her blood!” Dune’s sand-colored eyes narrow. He takes a menacing step toward Mother. My response is automatic. I move between the Clarity and my mentor, as I’ve been trained to do. My hand rests on my own sword’s hilt. I face Dune, my warning unmistakable. “You see?” Dune flicks his hand toward me. “She wants only to protect you, Othala. You have nothing to fear from her. She would never harm you or Gabriel. She loves you both.”

“And you care for her,” Mother hisses. She walks around the golden silk settee, putting it between her and us. Dune grinds his teeth. It’s an accusation I don’t fully understand.

“Of course I care for her. Roselle has been my student since she could crawl!” He rubs his hand over the short, dark stubble of his new beard. “I have always treated her with the utmost respect.”

“Yes, you two are quite close. She looks at you like a father.”

“You and I both know how little interest her own father has taken in her.”

Othala waves her hand as if to dismiss my father from the conversation, or maybe from her life. “Kennet is not one to form attachments. But you treat her as if she were your own daughter. You’ve taught her everything you know about being a leader, a fighter, someone who could maybe one day be the commander of this Fate?”

“I’ve tried to prepare her for any eventuality.”

My mother grips the back of the settee, her bejeweled fingernails digging into the fabric. “You’d just need to get rid of anything that stands in her way, wouldn’t you?”

Dune rubs his eyes, for a moment looking older than his thirty-eight years. “So, this is revenge against me! My decision to end my personal relationship with you, Othala, has nothing to do with Roselle.”

“It has everything to do with her, Dune. You’re her mentor. We both know that if something were to happen to Gabriel and me, she’d be The Sword.” A snarl twists my mother’s lips.

My hand, still on the silver handle of my sheathed sword, grows damp. Dune meets my eyes, and his soften. “Your daughter has no idea what you’re talking about, Othala. She’s a student of chivalry. Her only thought is how to win your love, not steal your power.”

Mother’s blue eyes look upward. “Even if the thought never crossed her mind, she’s still too dangerous, Dune. I have to protect Gabriel. He will rule the Fate of Swords one day, not her. It’s his birthright.””

What a great read! It’s full of action, drama, suspense and mis-direction. Nothing is ever as it seems! I have said before that I’m not a HUGE fan of YA. I enjoy them, but they really have to be done well. This was DEFINITELY one that was done well! It has the feel of “The Hunger Games” or “The Divergent Trilogy” but I found all of the characters very likeable! I thought that Roselle was way more likeable than Katniss Everdeen. She was strong and level headed, and with Society the way it way, even though she grew up around the Aristocracy she spent her time training to be the Secondborn she would always be.

She’s thrown into this life where she’s hated by everyone because she was High born and everyone watched her growing up thinking they knew who she was. She doesn’t fit in with the Firstborns, and the Secondborns do not accept her. It’s a lonely existence. But, she is strong enough to step up, take a leadership role and change the tides of the times. She could be the one who wins the War.

I HIGHLY recommend this book and I can’t wait to get to the rest of them!!

Secondborn is Best Served With 

A Three Ingredient Rose Cocktail

So, my antibiotics are complete which (to me) means that I’m back on the wagon again!! Off the wagon?? Well, I’m going to have a drink!! Lol! For Roselle and the Rose Garden Society, I figured that a Rose Cocktail would be fitting! And with Spring on it’s way ….*fingers crossed* we’ll soon be sipping these on our back patio’s!! *wishful thinking*

rose cocktail rachel ray

So, I got this Recipe from Rachel Ray and I just had to try it and dream of spring…


  • 2 cups store-bought lemonade
  • 1 pint strawberries
  • 1 bottle Rosé wine


  1. Pour the lemonade into an ice cube tray and freeze.
  2. Cut the stems from the strawberries and place them onto a parchment-lined sheet tray. Freeze.
  3. To serve, place a few lemonade ice cubes and a couple frozen strawberries into a big wine glass and top with some chilled rosé.
  4. CHEERS!!