Book Trailer for Enchanted Beauty by Marly Mathews

Below is the trailer I created for my fantasy romance novel, Enchanted Beauty! If you have a few minutes, please watch it, and feel free to leave a comment here for me!
The trailer came together like a dream, though I had to hunt for a while to get the perfect pictures. :)
Enjoy!

~Marly

SRR Reviews Enchanted Beauty!!!

Lily at Simply Romance Reviews has reviewed Enchanted Beauty and gave it an outstanding read rating!!! Thank you so much, Lily, I'm so pleased that you loved Enchanted Beauty. I loved writing it as I didn't want to leave the magical kingdom of Thaliana, and it warms my heart to hear that readers and reviewers are having a hard time letting go as well!!!

Here's a bit of what Lily had to say,
This book is a great read. Ms. Mathews has written a story with a historic feel and smoothly flowing fast-paced yet modern dialog. All her characters are well defined with depth of personality, even the magic mirror! They are intelligent, fierce and brave. Ms. Mathews' writing is not overly descriptive about less important things like furniture and scenery but instead gives us a great story with multi-dimensional characters. The book has great twists that kept me wanting to read more and I found myself staying up late into the night to finish. This is a fabulous adult fairytale with plenty of action, romance and of course, the happy ending. Watching Annabelle and Malachi fall in love in Enchanted Beauty is a wonderful journey and makes me look forward to reading more of Ms. Mathews books.



Here's the link to the full review!
http://www.simplyromancereviews.com/srrreviews/enchantedbeauty.aspx

~Marly

FIVE Heart Review for Enchanted Beauty at TRS!!!

And the great reviews for Enchanted Beauty keep rolling in. I'm so happy that this story has struck a chord with readers and reviewers! It was a great deal of fun to write as I've always loved the classic fairy tale Beauty and the Beast, and twisting it to put my own stamp on it in Enchanted Beauty was a great writing experience!!!

Here's what Margo at The Romance Studio had to say about Enchanted Beauty,
I have always love reading as a child the story of Beauty and the Beast. In Enchanted Beauty, Ms. Mathews introduces us to Annabelle, a brave, and compassionate woman, who struggled with the knowledge that she could die if no cure was found for the spell that had injured her, causing blindness and a the hastening of her last days on earth. Filled with betrayal and unending action, you will find Enchanted Beauty to be one of Ms. Mathews' truly loving stories to remember.

You can read the full FIVE Heart review by following this link,
http://www.theromancestudio.com/reviews/reviews/enchantedbeautymathews.htm


Thank you so much, Margo!!!

Have a great Monday, everyone!!

~Marly

First Review for Dragon's Heart!!

Hey Everyone!
Last week I received the first review for my fantasy paranormal romance, Dragon's Heart!
Here's a little bit of what Cherokee at Coffee Time Romance had to say about Dragon's Heart! Thank you so much, Cherokee!!

Dragon's Heart is a delightful tale. The banter between Grania and Dylan is sharp, to the point, and carries some cute perks with it. Often times it moved at a great pace, like a tennis match. I fell headlong in love with the sparks of the players, and the developments between them and the secondary characters. The intense battles are life-like, creating an entertaining read, hard to let go in this surreal drama. Marly Mathews is a dynamic author who sketches fantasy and romance brilliantly with a read I found utterly pleasurable.

Cherokee
Reviewer for Coffee Time Romance
Reviewer for Karen Find Out About New Books


You can read the full review by following this link, http://www.coffeetimeromance.com/BookReviews/Dragonsheart.html
~Marly

The Forgotten Princess by S.D. Grady

The Forgotten Princess by S.D. Grady

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The SF Saga Is Complete!

Return of the Queens

Ok, so I’m still mourning the fact that we had no money for me to indulge in adding yet another Star Wars item to add to my modest collection (my prized autographed, Ray Parker in full Sith Lord regalia has an honored spot in our family room and damn that saber would have looked good over top). Anyway, our first and last Sunday in San Francisco dawned cloudy and we were immediately depressed because our sailboat cruise was at sunset. Unfortunately, clouds present a problem when it comes to seeing the sun actually set.

We tried not to think about it as we got ready to attend the drag show. I suddenly decided on a whim that I just wanted to wear shorts. So I called the Starlight club and asked about dress code. I wasn’t happy when I was told no shorts, but JEANS were allowed! Guess I should have asked THAT question before I left Virginia because I didn’t bring jeans. Arrrrgggh. So I dressed up.

Sunday’s a Drag

I’d like to make a HUGE commercial plug for Harry Denton's Starlight Room at the Sir Francis Drake . This guy knows exactly how to put on a meal and a show. There was so much food to select from, salads, made-to-order omelets, fruits, muffins, roasted pork, potatoes and OMG, the French Toast. I’m a decent cook. In fact, I’ve had people tell me I’m an exceptional cook (although I think it depends on the taste buds). But I do admit to having specialties that few places or people can top. One of those is my French toast. The family lives for th

e occasional Sunday when I fix mine, so I was blown away by Harry’s French Toast. It was exquisite on the taste buds. A one-inch thick slice of heaven is what they were. I won’t tell you how many I ate, but suffice it to say, even when I was full, I had to have more. My mouth is watering as I type. And on top of that, if the maple syrup they had wasn’t the real deal, then I want the brand name they used, because it oozed sugary sweet all over these divine angel wings being passed off as fluffy French toast.

With our bellies full, we sat back to enjoy the show. I already had a good idea of what to expect from a drag show, but I knew the DH didn’t have a clue. Truth is, he really didn’t want to go to the show, but because I wanted too, he agreed. He’s a good husband, and he also knows he generally has a good time when he agrees to do things he didn’t want to do in the first place. For the DH, the show was an eye-opener. He has truly come to accept and appreciate all alternative lifestyles and he was enthralled with Cassandra in the show. She’s wearing the strips of blue in the picture with him and the other queen.

Funny, bawdy, yet clean and tasteful, these performers made sure everyone had a grand time. When the DH was presented with the $100 bill, he exclaimed surprise and I reminded him that it was $45 a person and we’d had ice tea. He grinned, shook his head and scratched his name on the ticket with a big, “Ah, hell, it was WORTH it!”

Painted Ladies

After our drag queen show, we had a few hours to kill until our sunset sail. So I announce I want to go see the Painted Ladies. Naturally the DH is all keen to do go too given he’d just had a wonderful time at the drag show. However he wasn’t exactly keen anymore when I inform him that the Painted Ladies are Victorian Houses at Haight and Steiner. He’s now got the hang dog look on his face. Too late, you already said yes, sweetie. After a quick clothes change, we hop onto the bus and head toward the Haight Ashbury section of town. I don’t know what it is with us and buses, but we always managed to meet the most interesting of people. On this trip we met a gal who told us where to get off, but the DH and I disagreed over what she said. I looked at him and said pull the cord to make the drive stop.

“No, it’s not this stop.”

“Yes it is.”

“Pull the cord. We need to get off here.”

So I pull the cord, but the bus rolls right past Steiner Street. The next street it stops and we get off. As I study the map, I tell the DH we have to go up a couple of blocks and then turn left (BACK the way we came).

“Why do we have to do that?”

“Because you didn’t listen to me when I told you we needed to get off at Steiner!” *sigh* Men, I’m convinced its true that they really don’t have a sense of direction or the willingness to stop for directions.

We set out down the street toward the Painted Ladies on what’s a relatively flat plane.

When we turn the corner to we’re facing more steep hills. What is it with this city! LOL

Check out the hill above! After Lombard Street this sucker was peanuts!

Painted Ladies is a term given to houses built in the Victorian and Edwardian eras that are painted in bright colors. In the late 1800s, San Francisco was populated with houses like this, including Nob Hill where the most affluent people lived. In the quake of 1906 the Nob Hill mansions were destroyed, but a number of beautiful houses like these still remain. The houses in this picture face Alamo Park and are sometimes referred to as Postcard Row because they’ve become a tourist destination as a result of the number of times they’ve been photographed.

As you can see from the photo, the sun had come out, and it was turning out to be gorgeous weather. Nippy but wonderfully sunny. With my need for architecture not yet sated, we headed back to the bus stop where we should have gotten off to begin with, and along the way I insisted on the DH taking shot after shot of architecture. I’ve no idea what to do with these pictures! I think we took something like 300+ shots in four days.

The DH was getting antsy about getting to the cruise ship on time. Not that we had to rush, it was only 2:30pm and the ship didn’t leave until 6:30pm, but he was not eager to keep stopping at every house I wanted him to photograph as we walked back to the bus stop. We killed some time at Fisherman’s Wharf until it was time for our sailboat ride.

Sailing the Seven Seas (ok, the Bay)

We weren’t sure what to expect on our cruise, and I’m not sure I’ll be able to adequate describe the impact this experience had on me, or on us as a couple. The first part of the cruise started out on choppy waters. We’d not been out on the water but maybe 15 minutes when I heard a cell phone go off. It was near where the DH had left his stuff, but there was a couple sitting beside his jacket and I didn’t think anything of it. The ringing stopped, and then it started again. Over the wind, I told the DH that I thought his phone was ringing.

“No, it’s not mine.”

“Yes, I think it is,” I said with an arched eyebrow. He checks it and rolls his eyes.

“It’s Oldest.” (Oldest stayed at home by herself for the first time ever!) DH answers the phone.

“What, Oldest?” Long pause.

“That’s why you called me? You want to know how to cook hot dogs?” The couple sitting next to DH’s jacket are laughing. “All right you put a couple of cups of water in the bottom of the steamer, put the hot dogs in the top part and cover it. Cook them about 7-10 minutes. Okay?”

He shakes his head as he hangs up and he glances down at the phone. “She’s been calling for the last fifteen minutes because there must be six or seven calls on here, I just didn’t hear the phone going off.”

I laugh. “She’s missing us, but doesn’t want to admit it.”

The cell phone goes off again. DH scowls as he answers it. “NOW what?” His eyes widen. “O‑M-G, Oldest. Yes the hotdogs can be frozen when you put them in the steamer. I’m trying to enjoy a romantic sailboat cruise with your mother. Now do you have any other questions?”

When he hangs up, I’m laughing uproariously right along with the couple near the DH who’ve been privy to the one-sided conversation. Kids, clearly they need us, but they don’t like admitting it.

With daughter number 1 taken care of, I move toward the front of the catamaran. I expected to get a little wet on the boat. After all the catamaran has open webbing between its hulls, what I didn’t expect was to have a HUGE wave surge up through the webbing and drench me in salt water. Oh wait, it wasn’t just salt water. It was ICE COLD salt water. But I decide that’s okay, how many people can say they’ve sailed on the San Francisco Bay and gotten drenched from it? Besides, it wasn’t too cold, I could handle it. Ummm, note the sweatshirt I'm wearing in the picture here! LOL

Feeling the need for food, I go below and grab what little of the cheese and appetizers are left. There were only about 35 people on board, but damn they must have been hungry! When I go back up on deck, I move to the front of the catamaran and simply put my face into the wind and revel in the beauty of a boat slicing through water with the precision of a knife. Left behind in the boat’s path was white foam cresting on top of water that couldn’t make up its mind what color it wanted to be. One minute it was green then it became midnight blue only to become green again with a tinge of blue.

Above my head, the sails billowed outward like freshly cleaned sheets on a clothes line, while the company’s logo of a black cat stood out sharply against the bleached sails. When it came time to head toward the Golden Gate Bridge, the DH and I just stood quietly together enjoying the view. I remember leaning over to kiss his cheek and saying I love you. He smiled and said I love you too. Then we were silent again. Sometimes, there are moments in your life which can not be put into words. For a writer to say something like that seems a bit incongruous. But it’s true.

That One Moment

I could wax poetic about those few minutes of bonding and closeness that I shared with my husband, but the truth is, a moment like that must be experienced. It must be felt. Or perhaps what I’m really saying is that the moment was too intimate to share with anyone but him. Intimate in the way that two people can simply hold hands and see deep into the heart of the other person.

The simple knowing that only someone who loves you can have any hope of understanding who you truly are. I remember my mother once describing a walk she and my Dad took on a beach when they stopped to watch the sunset. She told me my Dad just reached for her hand and held it in silence. That simple description speaks eloquently to what I experienced with the DH. It was acceptance, understanding and love all wrapped up in a beautiful gift of heartfelt intimacy that said, I don’t want to be any other place but here with you. It’s a moment I’ll cherish until my days end.

With our wonderful bonding moment still close to my heart, the captain of the boat took us directly under the bridge. Again, this is another difficult experience to truly describe. So I thought I’d do it with pictures. Even they can’t do justice to the majesty and beauty of this man-made wonder that spans a rocky shoreline and is buffeted by fog and sunshine depending on nature’s whim.

When our sail ended, we were ready to go again. NO, wait! That’s not true. Remember how I said I was soaked with water and that it wasn’t cold? Well, the weather decided to change on us, and the wind got stronger and COLDER. It takes a lot for me to complain about the cold. I rarely wear a coat in the wintertime. So when I’m standing on the dock shivering and my teeth are chattering, the DH realizes that he’s not going to convince me to eat dinner down on the wharf. Instead we return to the hotel.

Monday we awoke to our last day in San Francisco and our scheduled trip to Alcatraz. The barometric pressure had shifted and my knee and hip were agonizing reminders that I was no longer 25 anymore. Nonetheless, it didn’t stop me from enjoying the tour of the prison.

I can only say that my trip to San Francisco was wonderful on so many different levels. It was a business success and it created memories that will last a lifetime. The only things we didn’t do that I wish we had were…

• ride a cable
• take a dinner/dance cruise on the Bay
• walk the whole length of the Golden Gate Bridge
• visited the Parthenon from the Pan American Exhibition

But hey, who’s to say that we can’t go back. After all, when I talked with the cheese guy from LeBeau the other night as to what cheeses he sold us in his small grocery store. He said we should come back, and maybe we will.

Cable Cars Climb Halfway to the Stars

Here it is, Part 2 in the San Francisco experience! While I was trying to get my act together Friday, the DH got to live one of his special dreams. Thanks to the finagling of a very dear friend (thank you, Cathie), the DH played the Spanish Bay course at Pebble Beach. He was over the moon about it, and I confess I just didn’t get what all the excitement was about when comes to hitting a dimpled ball from one place to another. But then he didn’t get me and the OMG Kate Duffy loves my writing mentality, so we were square. He wasn’t going to get back until late, so I went to dinner with Mel Schroeder and the delightful Ember Case.

Make Mine Medium Well Please

We visited John’s Grill, which was the restaurant setting used by Dashiell Hammett in his famous book The Maltese Falcon. Upstairs, in a glass case, they’ve even got the Maltese Falcon prop. Way COOL! During dinner, the three of us had a wonderful time talking business. We sat next to the restaurant’s entryway which had window where we could see people waiting for their table. We noted one small group commenting and pointing to our steaks, so I had Ember knock on the glass to get their attention. When they looked in my direction, I pointed my steak and gave them a grin with a big thumbs up. They laughed and nodded. Determined to ensure that they were good and hungry when they got to their table, I teased them with another big grin. I then popped a delicate bite of steak into my mouth and proceeded to wax poetic about the taste with my expression. I managed to give everyone a good laugh except for the two guys next to our table. Of all the places to find two uptight gay men, I would NEVER have thought it possible in San Francisco, but I swear to you, these two guys made conservative Republicans look like happy Democrats. Their expressions were pinched tighter than a raisin. Even when I attempted a polite and sincere smile of hello, the look I got from one gentleman could have pinned a fly to the wall in one swift stroke. Oy!

We're Walking, We're Walking

Saturday saw the DH and I checking out of the Marriott and moving a few blocks away to the Hilton. Long story short, the Marriott didn’t have any cheap rooms Sun night (low ball figure of $400+), and I got us two nights at the Hilton for the same price it would have cost us to stay at the Marriott one more night. Once we cleared all of that, I was going to go to a couple of workshops, but I’d apparently packed my briefcase with my workshop paperwork, so I didn’t know what was going on, so I decided I’d be nuts not to take advantage of my time with the DH in one of the most romantic cities in the world. So off to the Hilton I walked in my heels.

Now I don’t mind walking when someone gives me good directions, but I called the DH twice from my cell phone and kept hearing that I was almost there. If he’d been in front of me, I would have grabbed him by the throat and yelled at him to stop saying I was almost there because my feet were reassuring me with each step that I was anywhere BUT almost there. I’m beginning to believe that adage, never ask a man for directions.

Sea Lions, Tourist Traps and Boats

Once we’d settled into the hotel, we decided to head to Fishersman’s Wharf and Pier 39. To get there we enjoyed another interesting excursion via public transportation. We’d been on the bus for a short time when this beautiful, and I do mean beautiful, girl gets on the bus and sits across from us. We’re trying to figure out where to get off and she offers assistance. The DH is instantly smitten, and moi, I just smile with glee.
When we get off at our stop, the DH says,

“That girl was gorgeous.”

“Yes, he certainly was.”

“What do you mean, he?” the DH squeaks.

“Honey, I’m sorry, but that was a guy.”

“NO!”

“Sorry, she was he.”

“NO! She was gorgeous.”

“He was gorgeous, honey, but it was a wig, and the Adam’s apple was a dead giveaway, although you weren’t looking there were you.” My expression had to have been one of smug amusement, because that’s what I was feeling. Serves him right for looking at another gal’s boobs in front of me.

“NO! That’s not possible, I wouldn’t…” His voice dies off, and I just pat him on the shoulder.

“It’s okay, sweetie. Even Tim “the Toolman” Taylor would have been attracted to her.”

“I still say you’re wrong. She was a she.”

I just smiled and allowed him to keep his manhood intact. However, as you can see by my recounting of the tale here, I’m still enjoying myself.

The DH has already visited Fisherman’s Wharf earlier in the week, so he’s acting like a professional tour guide until I glare at him and say, ok, I was here 10 years ago, it hasn’t changed THAT much (even my fav chocolate candy store hadn’t moved). Naturally, I had to have my white chocolate and I saw an ad for one of those 3-D rides. I convince the DH to go ride. Now this ride is one of those where you sit in a cushiony chair and while the cool movie is running the chair tosses you around. I’m not sure where I missed the “fasten your seatbelts,” warning because the next thing I know I’m being tossed around in my seat and the only thing holding me in the damn chair is my fierce semi-terrorized grip on two insubstantial hand grips. Needless to say, I LOVE the experience and the next two rides we did, I made sure NOT to wear my seatbelt. I love, love, love living dangerously! (Hence the reason I wrote a book called Dangerous - Am I sneaky with Promo or WHAT! LOL)

How High Can She Go?

Although I’d been to the world-famous Crooked Street the last time I was in San Fran, I still wanted to go again. So I suggested we walk up the hill from the Wharf (I did have the common sense to be wearing tennis shoes, thank you very much). Granted, my definition of hill and the one San Franciscans use is COMPLETELY different. So when we get to the first incline heading up Lombard, the DH takes one look at the hill, looks at me and says,

“There no way in hell you’re going to make it.” His tone is that of a long suffering husband, which does nothing but incite my stubborn molecules to encircle and annihilate my common sense brain cells.

“WATCH me!” I sneer as I charge up the hill. If I’d not been walking on the treadmill for the past seven months, I would have been dead a quarter of the way up that damn hill. Instead, I managed to avoid doing my imitation of the stereotypical heaving bosoms romance author until about three-quarters of the way up the slope. By the time I got to the top of the hill I was exhausted, however, take a look at the picture. We walked from the water (that's at the very top of the picture) all the way up to the foot of the world-famous crooked street. Please note that the photo was not enhanced in any way shape or form. That last hill really is about an 80-85 degree angle of incline. Awww RIGHT! Who’s bad, I’m bad, who’s bad, I’m bad. Granted that little song and dance was played out solely in my imagination. It’s good to be a writer, because I had no strength for performing in any way, shape or form at that point.

Now what do you do when you’ve just climbed a mountain? Do you keep climbing? Ummm, not! The steep incline was bad enough, and I hate stairs. I knew the hotel was somewhere to the left of the Crooked Street so that’s the direction I led the DH in.

Note to self, catch a cab when you’ve just completed an historic climb. Do not try to be a heroine by climbing more hills.

The Thrill of Victory / The Agony of Defeat

What I thought would be just one more hill and then ALL downhill to the hotel became a lesson in stubbornness and endurance. All of which I have in abundance. We must have walked another five or six steep hills in what I loosely determined was the direction of the hotel, although I clearly didn’t have a clue as to where we were. But then that living (Promo Alert) Dangerously gene was rampaging quite nicely through my blood. Along the way, we came across this wonderful building that had of all things, GARGOYLES on it. Being a lover of creatures who are made to ward off evil spirits, I insisted the DH take some photos. We continue on our way not realizing that we’re about to experience one of those memorable moments in life that can never be bought or arranged. These type of spontaneous and rare moments are once-in-a-lifetime events that can never be recreated. They are so special they can only be recorded fully on one’s heart.

It’s called exhaustion. ROFL Okay, I’m sorry, but I couldn’t resist.

Anyway, we get to the top of one more hill (I’ve now lost count), and the rinky dinky map the hotel gave us makes it look like the hotel is two blocks away, but I know better because all I see are more mountains to climb. *sigh* I look at the DH and growl, Okay, I’m not taking another step until I figure out where the hell we are. The DH just breathes heavily, and not with any hint of romance I might add. Guess I’ve worn him out. Ahh…the life of an erotic romance author. NOT!

Where The Hell Are We?

About this time, I hear a car roaring up the 75-degree incline we’ve just climbed. I look at the DH and say,

“I think it’s time we ask for directions.”

“No, we’re fine.”

“Sorry, Tim (Toolman) Taylor, we’re asking for directions.”

This dark green CJ-7 jeep rolls up to the stop sign we’re standing close too and THANKGOD it didn’t have the usual plastic covered window stuff. I politely scream over the engine.

“Excuse me, do you know how far it is to Market Street (we could find the hotel from there).”

Now as a romance author, I tend to look at men from a hero-potential POV. I mean I study features, body structure (think DaVinci's David), etc. I’m telling you, the two guys in this jeep were young Adonis’. I’m seeing rugged features, deliciously hard biceps, strong shoulders, need I go on? Both young men are eager to help and Adonis #1 tells us the hotel is about ten blocks further on. My face must have looked like I’d been socked in the jaw. Immediately, they both insist that we accept a ride to where the walk to the hotel is ALL downhill.

Naturally, the DH is giving me the silent eye signal (equate to blinking like he’s having apoplexy) to refuse. At this point, I’m beyond exhaustion and I cheerfully accept. Like a true romance hero, Adonis #2 gets out of his seat and tells me to sit in front while he sits in the cramped back with the DH (Remember how I said I went first class and he went coach? Guess it holds true for CJ7 Jeeps too). Firmly ensconced in our open carriage, our driver roars down a hill then up a hill, braking to a great rollercoaster stop at the top of each hill. While we’re driving we chat a little about the fact that they’ve been in the desert to an art festival in Nevada. Did I mention I love the desert? Particularly ones where there are Mirages? (Slick aren't I--LOL) I mention to our yummy hosts that I’m an erotic romance author in town for the RWA conference. They think that’s cool. We’re start discussing books and art in general, when Adonis #2 (sitting next to the DH) reaches up to tap the arm of Adonis #1 and says,

“Sweetie, tell them about….”

I have no idea what Adonis #2 said next because it was all I could do not to laugh out loud. The DH is still adjusting to my adopted nephew being gay, and clearly on this trip he's getting a whole new perspective on alternative lifestyles. I must say I'm proud of him though. He didn't even flinch. How’s that for enlightened growth and tolerance in a short time span. The Adonis twins dropped us off at the top the last hill, and said their goodbyes before they roared off into the sunset. I wish we'd had more time to chat with them. They were erudite, cultured and really sharp when it came to the arts. Worse, I didn’t even think to get their picture! I really wish I had, because not only was this couple so thoughtful in offering us a ride, but it’s because of them that the DH and I experienced one of our most romantic moments ever.


I Couldn't Have Written A Better Romance Scene

I would not have made it to that last hill without our gallant knights and I would have insisted on calling a cab to get back to the hotel. But because of the generosity of strangers, the DH and I stumbled into this delightful neighborhood grocery where after a little bit of discussion, we purchased a roasted chicken, then we chatted with the guy behind the cheese display case who gave us a wonderful breakdown on the specialized cheeses they offered. We ended up with one cheese that was like a Havarti but it started with a T and the DH fell in love with the one that was like a cheddar / bleu cheese mix. We had a great conversation with the cheese specialist and the other young man behind the counter. With our cheeses selected, we added a loaf of sourdough bread and drinks to our cheese and chicken feast and checked out.

The cheese guy had said to let the one cheese warm up some to make it easier to spread on the bread, so we took our time walking back to the hotel (DOWNHILL). The weather was exquisite and it was wonderful, romantic walk through a quiet neighborhood. When we reached the hotel, we enjoyed a picnic in our room while watching a Pay-for-view movie. It was an incredible memory and we have Adonis #1 and #2 to thank for it. So guys if you happened to check out my website and are visiting this blog. THANK YOU and big hugs and smooches for making possible such a wonderful romantic memory for the DH and me! You guys RAWK!

Next week, come back to read the final installment in Monica’s San Francisco Saga! Serial rights are up for auction.