Thursday, August 25, 2011

Remembering Hurricane Wilma

While we are preparing for Hurricane Irene, I can't help remember Wilma and the damage it caused in Florida, particularly in Pompano Beach where I was living at the time.

Picture me sitting in my 18th floor apartment, on my living room sofa, at 9:00 am, staring in the dark at the wood panels blocking the bay window and sliding door to the balcony. The rest of the windows were sealed by hurricane shutters completely blocking the day light.

I've called a friend who lived in a building with hurricane-resistant windows to ask what the weather looked like outside. With panic in her voice, she said she was watching cars flying and landing on top of each other.

Imagine my terror when the sofa moved and the chandelier hanging above the dining room table swang left and right with a mind of its own, the way you see it in ghost movies. Except that this was real life!

I asked my husband in a weak voice if there was a chance for the building to collapse. You see, we were living in an apartment building on the beach, a beautiful area for vacation, but the worst place to be in case of hurricane. My husband was scowling at the wood panel too. He muttered he was more concerned about the window and wood cracking under the wind hammering. In fact a few seconds later, streams of water leaked from the side. We used all the towels we had to stop the water. In a bedroom, the shutters unhooked and opened. My DH rushed to close them. I rushed behind him, my arms wrapped around his waist, I pulled him back with  all my strength to stop him from being sucked outside.

By 10:30 am we had no electricity, no telephone and no elevators functionning. We climbed down the eighteen floor to find a chaos in the building lobby. An owner cried that the wall between her bedroom and her neighbor's living room collapsed. Another neighbor called on his cell for help. He'd locked himself in his bathroom when his bedroom window blew. The wind created a vaccum and he couldn't open the bathroom door to get out.

We huddled in the conference room and exchanged stories while the wind roared outside. Wilma was a category 3 and came with a tornado on Pompano Beach.

Amazingly, in the evening the storm abated and the sun shily appeared at the horizon just before sunset.  We finally went out to assess the damage. The beautiful resort looked like a war zone. The beach was littered with window frames, shutters, rails, doors. Crashed cars cluttered the parking lots. Trees and electric wires blocked the streets. Many roofs had collapsed.

There is nothing like a disaster to bring people together. All the apartment owners emptied their freezers and refigerators, now useless without electric power, and brought their meat, poultry, fish, seafood, veggy to be barbequed on the terrace. We had a huge get-together, complete with wine, songs and nervous laughters.

The next morning after coffee and breakfast on the terrace, my husband who was president of the building association, organized the assessment procedure. Teams of volunteers entered each apartment and recorded the damage. Later my DH prepared the report for the insurance.

We remained without electricity and telephone for a week. Not bad under the circumstances. The next-door building lost its water supply for three weeks when a huge tree collapsed over the tank. The residents came to shower and filled pails of water from our building.

It took more than two years to repair all the damage. Now I have a respectul fear of hurricanes.

 OSIRIS' MISSING PART at Ellora’s Cave Blush for $ 5.24:

Sunday, August 21, 2011

Excitement and Anxiety

When I decided to quit my job seven years ago to fulfill my dream of writing romance novels, I was determined to make it an early retirement, a fun time to relax. RELAX.


I had more than my share of angst and excitement with exams and waiting for results, dating and waiting for a proposal and a wedding, raising children and waiting for them to grow up and turn into a man and woman of values, happy and successful… Work has been a hectic roller coaster of ups and downs with contracts and fun trips, with deadlines and late hours in the lab that often extended to the wee hours of the day to deliver sample results on time to the customers.

I’ve spent my life worrying about one thing after another, torturing myself with anxiety and then celebrating with excitement. Overworked and burned out, I needed my early retirement to read, write, walk, exercise, start living without pressure or stress.

Little did I expect that writing romance novels would soon turn into an obsession, an addiction consuming my life and bringing again a whole new set of anxiety and excitement. Participating in contests and waiting for the phone call announcing the finalists; submitting to editors and waiting for the letter or the email with so much hope and so much anxiety, only to be crushed by a form rejection. With time the rejection turned into a two-page letter with suggestions and request for revisions, and then finally the “call” came, bringing such a delirious happiness.

So why the stress? The anxiety that burns my stomach and dries my throat?
My children claim that I make it a hobby to worry about one thing or another.

After six books published, the ups and downs continue, waiting for the book release, waiting for reviews and fan letters, promoting, blogging, participating in book signings…

Is it part of my nature to take everything to heart, to grind my teeth or bite my nails while waiting for others’ approval?

Do you suffer a hundred deaths when you wait for the results of an important project? Does it cause you physical distress to expect and receive what you want so badly?

If you like to travel and love to read, come and enjoy my international romances. I will take you around the world through stories that simmer with emotion and sizzle with heat.

OSIRIS' MISSING PART at Ellora’s Cave Blush for $ 5.24:

Monday, August 15, 2011

Sandra Cox

My good friend Mona has been kind enough to let me post about my new release Vampire Bay, a crossoverYA/paranormal.

To celebrate the release, I'll be running a contest all this month.

First prize: Starbucks Card, Cooke Lee Bracelet (see pic) and a download of Vampire Bay.

Second prize: Paper Copy of Moonwatchers

Third prize: Paper Copy of Vampire Island.

To enter: Just leave a comment @ and mention Vampire Bay Contest. Please include your email addie. Or if you'd rather not leave your email on the comment section you can send it to me at


“Looking for someone, Sugar?”

I whirled.

He leaned against a rough-barked oak, his ankles crossed, his hands jammed in his pockets.

The man in front of me was drop-dead gorgeous. Blue-black hair worn in a careless style framed high cheekbones. The rakish growth on his chin accentuated his dark good looks. Designer jeans clung to lean hips and long legs. He wore a long-sleeved gray tee, that clung to impressive pecs, with a black outdoor vest over the shirt. Expensive suede boots covered his feet. The only thing that ruined his appearance was the red glow around his irises.

His dark good looks reminded me of someone. I gasped and blinked. He reminded me of Sam, a more rakish version but still Sam. With that long lean body and black hair, they could have passed for brothers.

One moment he leaned negligently against the tree, the next he stood beside me, way too close. Nothing moves faster than a vampire. It can be quite disconcerting if you aren’t used to it. My hand tightened on my sword.

“So you are the mouthwatering Zoe Tempest.” He circled me. Those red glowing eyes seared me wherever he glanced. “To think Dere let a little thing like you take him.” He laughed, a sensual sound that made my knees wobble.

“That’s right. Just like I’m going to take you.” Instead of hurling the words like a spear, I had to force them out of my mouth. They sounded stiff and unnatural.

“Zoe, Zoe, Zoe,” he whispered near my ear, his breath cool and sweet like mint and cookies. I swung around to face him, but he slid back. He shook his head. “Haven’t you figured it out yet? You won’t be able to resist me, love. I’ll be both your lover and your sire.”

His voice caressed like whispering silk. It mesmerized as he circled. “It appeals to you on a basic level doesn’t it, being with me?” He reached out a white cold finger and started to touch my cheek.

I jerked my head back. “Who are you?” I pushed the words past my clenched teeth as my body trembled violently.

“Who do you want me to be?” He touched the back of my neck as he circled me.

I shuddered, but whether from disgust or desire eluded me.

“Dead,” I spat, fighting the unbelievable craving I felt for him.

VAMPIRE BAY available at:

Saturday, August 13, 2011


Written by Kathryn Stockett.

Kathryn Stockett's 'The Help' Turned Down 60 Times Before Becoming a Best Seller

If you ask my husband my best trait, he’ll smile and say, “She never gives up.” But if you ask him my worst trait, he’ll get a funny tic in his cheek, narrow his eyes and hiss, “She. Never. Gives. Up.”

It took me a year and a half to write my earliest version of The Help. I’d told most of my friends and family what I was working on. Why not? We are compelled to talk about our passions. When I’d polished my story, I announced it was done and mailed it to a literary agent.
Six weeks later, I received a rejection letter from the agent, stating, “Story did not sustain my interest.” I was thrilled! I called my friends and told them I’d gotten my first rejection! Right away, I went back to editing. I was sure I could make the story tenser, more riveting, better.

A few months later, I sent it to a few more agents. And received a few more rejections. Well, more like 15. I was a little less giddy this time, but I kept my chin up. “Maybe the next book will be the one,” a friend said. Next book? I wasn’t about to move on to the next one just because of a few stupid letters. I wanted to write this book.
A year and a half later, I opened my 40th rejection: “There is no market for this kind of tiring writing.” That one finally made me cry. “You have so much resolve, Kathryn,” a friend said to me. “How do you keep yourself from feeling like this has been just a huge waste of your time?”

That was a hard weekend. I spent it in pajamas, slothing around that racetrack of self-pity—you know the one, from sofa to chair to bed to refrigerator, starting over again on the sofa. But I couldn’t let go of The Help. Call it tenacity, call it resolve or call it what my husband calls it: stubbornness.

After rejection number 40, I started lying to my friends about what I did on the weekends. They were amazed by how many times a person could repaint her apartment. The truth was, I was embarrassed for my friends and family to know I was still working on the same story, the one nobody apparently wanted to read.
Sometimes I’d go to literary conferences, just to be around other writers trying to get published. I’d inevitably meet some successful writer who’d tell me, “Just keep at it. I received 14 rejections before I finally got an agent. Fourteen. How many have you gotten?”

By rejection number 45, I was truly neurotic. It was all I could think about—revising the book, making it better, getting an agent, getting it published. I insisted on rewriting the last chapter an hour before I was due at the hospital to give birth to my daughter. I would not go to the hospital until I’d typed The End. I was still poring over my research in my hospital room when the nurse looked at me like I wasn’t human and said in a New Jersey accent, “Put the book down, you nut job—you’re crowning.”

It got worse. I started lying to my husband. It was as if I were having an affair—with 10 black maids and a skinny white girl. After my daughter was born, I began sneaking off to hotels on the weekends to get in a few hours of writing. I’m off to the Poconos! Off on a girls’ weekend! I’d say. Meanwhile, I’d be at the Comfort Inn around the corner. It was an awful way to act, but—for God’s sake—I could not make myself give up.

In the end, I received 60 rejections forThe Help. But letter number 61 was the one that accepted me. After my five years of writing and three and a half years of rejection, an agent named Susan Ramer took pity on me. What if I had given up at 15? Or 40? Or even 60? Three weeks later, Susan sold The Help to Amy Einhorn Books.

The point is, I can’t tell you how to succeed. But I can tell you how not to: Give in to the shame of being rejected and put your manuscript—or painting, song, voice, dance moves, [insert passion here]—in the coffin that is your bedside drawer and close it for good. I guarantee you that it won’t take you anywhere. Or you could do what this writer did: Give in to your obsession instead.

And if your friends make fun of you for chasing your dream, remember—just lie.

The article was written by Kathryn Stockett.

Editor's Note: This essay appears in the anthology The Best Advice I Ever Got: Lessons from Extraordinary Lives, edited by Katie Couric and published by Random House in April. Stockett's novel went on to be a bestseller and the movie "The Help" premieres on August 10. for $ 8.60

Ellora’s Cave Blush for $ 5.24:


Thursday, August 11, 2011

Reviews posted on Amazon

Isis, godess of health and family
 holding her key of life
Reviews posted on for
Osiris' Missing Part (Kindle Edition)

1-By H. M. Taylor "silvarie" -
5.0 out of 5 stars Fun and Mystical

If you are looking for something a little different you have found it! The author takes the myth of how Seth killed Osiris, cut up his body and scattered the parts across Egypt and turns it into a magical and fun story. The godess Isis seeks out all the parts of Osiris and brings him back to life because she loves him. But one very important part eludes her and Osiris is not happy when he comes back to life and finds himself missing this vital organ. Full of adventure, romance and humor this is a great holiday read. Help other customers find the most helpful reviews

4.0 out of 5 stars Join The Adventure!

Mona Risk takes on a new genre and takes us on an Egyptian adventure. She delves deep into the subject of infidelity, love, forgiveness and commitment...

Mona Risk draws upon Egypt and the mythology of the Egyptian gods. Join her for the adventure as she takes you on a trip into the past and into an enjoyable realm. I enjoyed this tale and look forward to more Mona Risk titles. The only thing that rubbed me wrong was Osiris's infidelity, but gods will be gods. It did add some reality to the setting.

3-By Steph "Author of "The Giving Meadow
5.0 out of 5 stars An enjoyable read full of imagination!,
Risk crafts an exotic adventure filled with supernatural happenings, greed, betrayal, and love with "Osiris' Missing Part." Based on an ancient Egyptian legend, the god Seth tricks Osiris into a box and kills him, cutting his body into fourteen parts and spreading them all over Egypt. Will the goddess Isis be successful in resurrecting the only man she truly loves?

Isis, Osiris, Seth
The story opens with Isis bringing Osiris back to life, only she's missing the piece where his godly power is stored - his manhood. Osiris is grateful for Isis' efforts, but knows he has to go on a quest to seek out his manhood. Isis agrees to go with him after learning the conditions set upon them by Seth to reattach Osiris' manhood. The condition is insulting to her however - a virgin must reattach Osiris' part with her personal sap.

Osiris and Isis enlist the help of their temple guardians. Seth, however, is not far behind. Once he discovers Osiris and Isis are looking for Osiris' missing member, he finds ways to sabotage their mission.

Osiris, god og knowledge and work,
was a womanizer in his first life,
but he reforms and marries Isis in his second life.

Along the journey Osiris discovers what a true gem Isis is. She's loyal, faithful, honest, and caring. Isis learns that there are different angles to approach a problem without being so uptight and demanding. Both Isis and Osiris take an inner journey of the soul, as well as a physical adventure. Can love truly find its way into Osiris' heart and can Isis forgive him the sins of the past?

Risk's writing is a wonderful "what-if" of the legend. She blends just the right amount of reality and myth offering the reader a unique and creative story. Her descriptions are "spot on," allowing the reader to visualize ancient Egypt with ease.

The most rewarding aspect of the story was the characterization of Isis and Osiris. While gods and capable of supernatural achievements, both have very human hearts. Osiris was a bit of a womanizer in his first life, but Isis' devotion shows him he can love just one woman. Isis has a tendency not to see "the grey/middle ground" in people and situations and Osiris demonstrates to her that its all right to give your trust to others who have earned it.

The novel is sophisticated for romance readers with love scenes that are graphic, sensual, and tasteful. Risk's imagination shines against the lush backdrop of ancient Egypt. "Osiris' Missing Part" is a wonderful escape to another time and place that proves love does conquer all.


“We are powerful gods, Amout. We’ll give you untold strength. Now stand up and be a man. If you serve us well, we will reward you and your children,” Isis said.

The man scrambled to his feet with an agility that belied his previous statement. “I’m your servant, powerful goddess.”

“Tell us about the curse you heard. Why won’t Osiris be able to reattach his member when he finds it?”

Amout wrapped his arms around his middle. “Please, ask me anything but that.”

“This is most important information. Speak.” She shook a threatening fist at him to loosen his tongue.

Amout cringed. His whole body shaking, he turned toward Osiris. “I’ll tell you privately, Almighty Osiris. Man to man.”

“Are you crazy?” Isis shouted. “Do you realize you’re insulting me?”

“Never my goddess. But what I have to say…” Amout wrung his hands, his eyes filling with tears. “I mean what Seth said will hurt your sensitive ears.”

“Don’t worry about my ears. They are made of sturdy stuff. Speak, I said.”

“Oh dear, oh gods, spare me, or cut out my tongue.” The man seemed in agony.

Was it that bad? My poor Ozi, what have they done to you, that I won’t be able to reattach you? “You can speak in front of your goddess. We have no secrets.” Hmm, except, of course, the few secrets related to Ozi’s former indiscretions. Osiris peeked at Isis who tilted her head and raised an eyebrow.

“If you insist,” Amout said as if these were his last words.

Isis’ eyes flashed in anger. “Well, we are waiting.”

“Seth said—Seth, not me—that if you ever find your cock you can’t reattach it yourself.”

“You mean that I can’t, but someone else can?” Osiris said.

“Yes, yes, yes someone else can.” Amout stammered.

“That will be no problem,” Isis intervened. “I will remove the human thing and reattach Osiris’ magical member.” Her smile showed her pleasure at the task.

“I beg your pardon, my goddess. But according to Seth you can’t.”

“Why not? Does he think I don’t have the power to do it? Which other god or goddess could handle such a difficult task?”

“Not a god, please. I prefer not to have male fingers touching my member.” Osiris’ bile rose in his throat at the mere thought of a man groping his Ozi.

“Never fear, my lord.” Amout sighed with relief. “No male’s fingers will touch your glorious member.”

Isis stepped closer. “Clarify this for me, mortal. If I can’t reattach it and no male fingers will touch it, who exactly will assume this delicate task?” Her voice came in a hiss and Amout backed up two steps.

“As you mention, my goddess, it is a delicate task, and Seth insisted it needed the delicate fingers of…of…a virgin,” he finished in a groan as Isis clawed at his face.

“How dare you, you miserable scorpion?”

Amout prostrated himself at her feet. “It’s not me. It’s Seth. You forced me to repeat his words. Please don’t vent your anger on me. I am but the messenger.”

Osiris shrugged. That wasn’t so bad. Despite Isis’ furious outburst, he smiled in relief and pulled her away from Amout’s face. Not bad at all. “Don’t kill him. We need him,” he whispered.

When Isis spun toward him, he wiped all expression from his face.

“We can’t accept that curse,” she said, her chin tilted up.

Couldn’t she remember they were discussing his supernatural penis, not her golden pot? “So what do you suggest we do?”

“Nothing. We won’t reattach it.” Her pinched lips dared him to protest. As if he could indulge her foolishness when it came to such a sensitive subject as his masculinity.

He faced her, scowling. “What do you mean we won’t reattach it? Am I to hold it in my hand when I exercise my godly power?”

“That would be better.” His sweet Isis turned red, puffing up with her held breath.

“Wait, there is more,” Amout said. “I have to tell you, I mean I have to repeat Seth’s words on how a virgin will reattach it.”

Various possibilities wallowed in Osiris’ mind and his pulse accelerated as the meaning of Seth’s curse sank into his mind.

Amout sneaked a glance at Isis. “My goddess, I thought you would be happy to know there is a nice way around this evil curse.”

Was the guy suicidal? Osiris elbowed him. Couldn’t he see that Isis wanted to skin him alive if he added another sentence? But Osiris needed to learn the ultimate curse his brother had cast. Seth had always coveted Isis. Hadn’t he killed Osiris to possess her? Now Set had found the weapon to separate them. A simple easy way, while he watched them fight and hurt each other’s feelings. No wonder Seth was laughing and toasting.

“Tell me the entire curse,” Osiris bellowed, and the skies opened with a downpour of rain. Even with a mortal penis, he was still the powerful god feared by people and nature.

“According to Seth, only a virgin can paste your penis to your flesh and she’ll have to use her…ah…personal sap as glue.”

“How dare you?” Isis lashed out. Her eyes narrowing, she raised her arm and left a stinging red handprint on the man’s face. “And I’ll kill Seth with my bare hands the moment I catch him.” for $ 8.60

Ellora’s Cave Blush for $ 5.24:

Sunday, August 7, 2011

Pilates ideal for Seniors

Sitting in a chair in front of a computer for eight to ten hours a day does not exactly lead to a model figure. Too many writers complain about extra pounds, bulging belly, and heavy butt. Some energetic authors nudged themselves into exercising, walking, swimming, anything to regain their ideal weight. Others like me make perfect New Year resolutions and valiantly keep them for the month of January.
But my life changed when I discovered the world of Pilates and enthusiastically embraced it.
I started Pilates three years ago: two times a week for half an hour each time. I didn't lose weight but gained so much flexibility. The arthritic pain in my arms and hips disappeared. A year later I upped my excercises to three times a week, still half an hour each time. Our classes include from three to ten students. I managed to drag my husband who needed to stretch his muscles after hours of tennis.
There are several types of Pilates. The gym-like that you perform in the middle of a room on a mat, is for the younger generation. I absolutely refused to continue after one section that killed my muscles and almost broke my back.
Then there is the Pilates for Senior: Lying on the Reformer or standing before the Tower, we listen to the trainer instructing us on how to breathe, inhale and exhale, contract the abs or relax the legs while pulling on strings. The strength of the string is adjusted according to the capability--health and age--of the student.

A quick glimpse at the picture below may give you the wrong impression that it's a torture room. But trust me, once you lie on these beds, called reformers, you'll find it the most comfortable way of doing gym movements. The strings pull your legs up, your arms back, while you concentrate on breathing.
The most widely used piece of apparatus, and probably the most important, is the Reformer, followed by the Tower. All exercises are done with control with the muscles working to lift against gravity and the resistance of the springs and thereby control the movement of the body and the apparatus. Pilates quickly became popular with many people, ranging from those who are mostly sedentary to those who excel in athletics.

"The Pilates Method teaches you to be in control of your body and not at its mercy. If your spine is inflexibly stiff at 30, you are old; if it is completely flexible at 60, you are young.” - Joseph H. Pilates
I like this definition of my age and highly encourage every writer to join a Pilates class.
By the way, all my heroines are fit and exercise.


He’s a Russian widower with adorable children who need a caring mother, but his heart had sealed when his wife died.
She’s an American divorcee, who lost her illusions about men, marriage and family. She won’t risk being hurt again.
Can love overcome guilt, duty and a clash of cultures?

Buy link at

Sensual romance but not erotic.

According to the legend, the evil Egyptian god, Seth, killed his brother Osiris, chopped him into fourteen pieces and flung them all over Egypt. Isis, goddess of family, reassembled thirteen of his body parts. Since she couldn’t find his supernatural male member, where his godly power was stored, she reattached a human one.
Isis has always loved Osiris, the charming god of labor, and helps him fight Seth. Together they search for his missing organ so he can recover his godly attributes, but can Isis forgive the sins of his past and their unexpected consequences?

For sale at Jasmine Jade for $5.24

Friday, August 5, 2011


The triplets are here!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
They made their grand entrance on August 3, 2011.

Baby A arrived at 9:15, Ryan Anthony
Baby B arrived at  9:16, Lucas Alexander
Baby C arrived at 9:17, Ethan George

They are 16, 17 and 18 in long, They breathe and eat on their own and amaze all the NICU nurses. Mommy is resting with a big smile on her face. Daddy practices holding and feeding babies. Hopefully the whole family will go home on Sunday. And the real fun  will start. The two grandmothers, an aunt and big sister are ready to help.

Today is a special day.
Celebrate with us. Take a blue balloon, have a glass of champagne and a chocolate.

Share your experience about special baby birth.

In honor of the first set of triplets in our family, EVERY commentator will receive one of my ebooks. Leave an email with the book of your choice or email me at mona@monarisk.con


With only one year left to complete her medical training, Dr. Holly Collier vows not to let the gorgeous Dr. Marc Suarez trampled her heart again.

But when a tragic accident transforms the carefree playboy into a dedicated but novice father to his nephew, Holly gives in to her maternal instincts and turns her life upside down for the orphaned preemie. But can she learn to trust in Marc again and believe in true love?


Admired by men and adored by women, Major General Sergei is a true hero in his country. When a lovely American chemist stumbles straight into his arms, Sergei has more on his mind than patriotic duty.

Raised in boarding schools, Cecile buried her loneliness under long hours of study and work. Now she’s determined to excel in her first international contract.

In Belarus, a Russian country dominated by male chauvinism and intrigues, Cecile finds more chemistry than she bargains for.

Oh what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive ~ Walter Scott.
Successful physician and loving mother, Olivia Crane believes youthful mistakes should be kept secret and skeletons are better left in the closet.

The French psychiatrist she loved ten years ago detests secrets.

Can he help her conquer her inner fears or will he get burned by the past too?


What could be more exciting for a young American architect than to live in a French chateau owned by a young count and to work on the restoration of a chapel in the Loire Valley?

But when her professor is poisoned because he knew too much about a missing statue, Cheryl's summer job changes into a dangerous treasure hunt and Count Fran├žois has his hands full trying to protect the impetuous young woman who's turned his life upside down.

He’s a Russian widower with adorable children who need a caring mother, but his heart had sealed when his wife died.

She’s an American divorcee, who lost her illusions about men, marriage and family. She won’t risk being hurt again.

Can love overcome guilt, duty and a clash of cultures?

Sensual romance but not erotic.
According to the legend, the evil Egyptian god, Seth, killed his brother Osiris, chopped him into fourteen pieces and flung them all over Egypt. Isis, goddess of family, reassembled thirteen of his body parts. Since she couldn’t find his supernatural male member, where his godly power was stored, she reattached a human one.

Isis has always loved Osiris, the charming god of labor, and helps him fight Seth. Together they search for his missing organ so he can recover his godly attributes, but can Isis forgive the sins of his past and their unexpected consequences?

Tuesday, August 2, 2011

The Young Generation

My four grandchildren requested a cousins' reunion at their loving grandparents' apartment, and insisted on having no annoying parents around. It was deliciously chaotic, noisy, hectic, but so much fun with nightly slumber parties and daily splashes in the pool and the ocean.

How can four children, age 7, 6.5, 5.5 and 5, keep busy? The two oldest girls bonded right away. My 5.5 year-old spitfire wouldn't hear about being left aside and managed to squeeze in every game the two others played, but poor little Dave, being the youngest and only boy, cried and then gave up on the girls and entertained himself.
Playing games on Daddy's iPad at 5
Dave laughed when I said I didn't know how to use an iPad, then he gently said: "I can show you."
But the girls wanted to share in the game and protested, "Not now, Nonna. We're too busy."
What else could they do when Dave asked to be left in peace?

Playing on Grandpa's laptop
Or better tattoo each other until Nonna gasped in horror, and insisted they surrender the markers that could ruin her chairs.

Unfortunately Nonna spoiled the moment by insisting on homework break. Instead they all gathered around the oldest cousin who read them a story.
Then the majority decided that vacation should not include homework or reading, but going to the pool and beach.
Playing in the sand, building castle and digging holes is excellent for the health and better entertainment.

A few minutes later everyone jumped into the pool to refresh and exercise.
Lunch and dinner were a lot of fun without adults around.
 Good thing Grandpa was more understanding and taught them card games.

Everything comes to an end but we will come next year.
It's so much fun at Nonna's place without parents to bother us.
Two kids left on Sunday, and the two other are leaving today.
Osiris' Missing Part, on sale at Ellora's Cave Blush for $5.24
Sensual romance but not erotic.

According to the legend, the evil Egyptian god, Seth, killed his brother Osiris, chopped him into fourteen pieces and flung them all over Egypt. Isis, goddess of family, reassembled thirteen of his body parts. Since she couldn’t find his supernatural male member, where his godly power was stored, she reattached a human one.

Isis has always loved Osiris, the charming god of labor, and helps him fight Seth. Together they search for his missing organ so he can recover his godly attributes, but can Isis forgive the sins of his past and their unexpected consequences?