Have you ever been at a mall or restaurant or grocery store and watched an elderly couple clearly in love. No, I don’t mean they’re all over each other (that’s for the young). Through all the wrinkles, the joint pains, the bent walking posture, they still exhibit behavior that cries out, “we are of one heart, always have been, always will be.” I was so moved by such behavior about twenty years ago at a hamburger junk, I tucked the memory away in my mind with the intent of someday using it in a story, and I did. I was in a restaurant with my son and a couple in their late seventies sat in a corner sharing a burger and fries, only she was feeding him each bite, tenderly, with a gentle feminine touch that only a woman in love to the same man for fifty years can do. The husband’s mind had obviously seen better days, but in her eyes he was still her hero.

Now let me return to today. The last six weeks of my world has centered around my battle with cancer. Each day, as part of my treatment ritual, I sit in an office waiting for a lab test, the beginning of a six hour chemo session, a radiation section, or some other fun thing. Even at eight AM, the room is always full of fellow patients undergoing the same battle. Point is, in most cases the person sits alone, or the parent/offspring separately read magazines, or the couple sits staring off in differed directions. But on occasion, just like in the hamburger joint, you witness the true blessing of the forgotten dimension between a man and woman, the eternal bond that transcends periods of suffering, pain, and sorrow.

Two rows across and to our right sat a senior couple discussing some piece of current events or family activity. With all the things going on in their new treatment focused world, they shared a constant smile as they held hands, pressed together tightly, not as two but as one spirit. Corny? Not to me. I looked down at my wife’s hand in mine while she too observed the couple. That element of relationships, the pure dependence of one’s emotional welfare on that of their soul mate, how often do you see it celebrated in todays secular driven productions out of Hollywood? No, they typically draw attention to alternative lifestyles, or single parenthood, or in/out shallow relationships. They can trivialize traditional romance, tell us it’s dead, try to convince themselves it never really existed, but they’re wrong.

For those blessed to have experienced the bond that never ends, you are a lucky couple. I know we are.

Later

Michael Davis (Davisstories.com)
Author of the year, 4/09

From the age of about eighteen, when it came to women, I began to notice they looked at me in a special way, you know, different from guys. The smile, the corner eye glance, the cocking of the head, and so forth. As I aged, the “look” matured, became more explicit, or perhaps I became more proficient at interpreting the look. Basically, the expression was one of, “I recognize you as a male, an example of masculinity, and I am interested.” Now, I’ve been married since I was twenty, never strayed or sampled the wonder of feminine charm other than my wife, not in our entire forty years together. Yet I still recognized the look, and sometimes the accidental “touch”. You know, the split second bush of fingernails on the arm or a carefully placed palm on you chest for one second. Nothing wrong with it, just a harmless signal.

Here’s the kicker. About the age of fifty, I began to sense a change. The look had morphed, but to what? I tried to make sense of it, but it evaded me. I shook it off, ignored it, thought I was imagining things. Then about two years ago, I had an encounter with a young lady in here thirties in a retail store. She came up and made contact, but it was with the back of my arm and to my side. It was not quick and passing, but direct. They was an expression of endearment, almost…what the hell was it? Then it hit me. She was admiring me as she would her dad or grandpa. I was no longer an icon of vitality, masculinity, I was a remembrance of a fatherly role model. I sighed, cast my eyes to the ground and slowly left the store. Every place I went, encountered a young lady, a cashier, a stocker, any woman my junior, there was that say look. I had experienced the changing of the guard, the old bull let out to pasture.

Well, it was a hell of a ride as a mucho guy while it lasted. Guess I’ll go out, set on the porch, and watch the cars drive by.

I will be out of the loop for the next few months dealing with a medical crisis in my life. At first I figured the big guy would march on and do his normal routine. Now the more doctors I see, the more I realize my world will be anything but routine. I will return in three or four months. Till then, everyone take care.

Michael Davis (Davisstories.com)
Author of the year, 4/09

I am very excited about this one because it concerns an initial story idea I got from watching local news reports about the presence of the FLDS religious compound and the number of illegal aliens and drugs coming across the border south of Phoenix. After spending some hours on the phone with Big Mike talking about our characters, what they would be for a living, and how they would become embroiled in border and religious activities, we worked on putting together an outline, a timeline, and characterizations we could both follow along with.

That kernel of an idea I had so many months ago turned into a real nail biter of a suspense novel with, surprisingly, very little romance. This is something new for me. Yeah, when I started writing before Big Mike’s input, I was already adding romantic scenes. When the collaboration truly started, these scenes no longer made much sense so they were all deleted, for the most part. But I’m not complaining; I think the end result is incredibly good. Another bonus? Without the sex scenes this is one book I can be comfortable sharing with DMIL and my pastor’s wife.

Hopefully the next news we have regarding Whispers of Innocence is good news regarding publication.

Now, who will play the part of the heroine, Micki Lewis, in the movie? She looks like Scarlett Johansson so that’s a good choice. And the hero, Drake Elliot? I picture him looking like Dr. House but Big Mike modeled him after Sam Elliot.  That actor is a bit too old to play the part but Hugh Laurie might be perfect…

I use Google Alerts to let me know any time something is posted on the internet with my name and/or the titles of my books. My present this morning was a review of Veil of Deception from You Gotta Read Reviews. Shira, the reviewer, gave our book a “You Gotta Read” rating – the highest possible. She says:

Veil of Deception made me feel as though I were a part of this close knit community. I was the neighbor that got to peek into the lives of my neighbors sight unseen. I got to call them a best friend, a sister, or a brother. I felt their joys, pain, and anguish. I wanted to meddle and give my opinion every once in a while. I loved Danielle. She was such a strong woman that lived with a secret that haunted her for ten years. I felt that Hawk needed to stand up to his sister in law and tell her what he honestly thought. I enjoyed this book because it flowed. Even though there were two authors, it was very seamless. I enjoyed being a resident of Spenser Lake even for a few hours.

For Big Mike and I, this review is confirmation that our long months of work on Veil of Deception paid off. Yes, it was difficult at time, and even frustrating, but the experiment was a success. I know one of Mike’s biggest fears is that the reader would be able to tell the difference between our two writing styles but this was unfounded.

Now if we can just get our current collaboration, Whispers of Innocence, finished we will both be happy! If anything, I think it will be even better than Veil of Deception but we’ll leave that up to the readers.

Little Candy

When I was a young boy my dad was into hunting and fishing and took me with him on many occasions. By the time I hit my twenties, his interest had shifted to golf but I was already hooked. Since then, my two favorite sports have remained hunting and fishing. I think what I like most is the being outdoors. Over time, like many other sports, TV began to offer a variety of shows aimed at those that enjoy hunting and fishing. Until about six or seven years ago, the series were all male events. Even the tournaments (like BASSMASTER) were void of female participants. Then ever so slowly, the tide changed. Women began appearing on the shows, first maybe once every few months, but now almost all of them have females as regulars. In fact, there are six shows that feature husband and wife hunting teams. There’s even one show called “Women of the Wild” and an outdoor clothes supplier called “SHE”, both of which focus on the needs of females in the sport. Coupled with that change, in the last ten years the number of female hunters has grown from 200,000 to 2 million while male hunters have declined from 22 million to 19 million in the same period.

Recently, on one of the shows, they interviewed the regular ladies and asked how they got involved in such typically male sports. Know what their answer was? The men in their lives encouraged them to get involved. In every case, it was a father, husband, boyfriend, grandfather. Now why would men do such a thing given we’re the barbarian macho jerks that the progressive media coveys? Because we’re not. There has been a paradigm shift of what is acceptable for the genders and you’re seeing the results. The fathers, grandfathers, husbands and boyfriends adore the women in there life and want them to experience all the things they did.

Interesting point is that in many cases the paradigm shift was not by the men but the women themselves. I have offered to teach numerous ladies to bow hunt and fish, have taken my wife on numerous occasions, and have talked to many of my friends who have done the same. I think the expansion of opportunities for women in all areas has opened their horizons and expectations to try new things they never considered before, and when they do, they get hooked like many guys, and I think that’s great. I can’t wait, assuming I’m still around, to take my grand daughter fishing and hunting, and I’ve already informed my son and DIL to prepare for a gun token fly rod swinging girl. If she’s not interested, that’s fine, but I hope she is and her Pa Pa will be there to enjoy those special moments in a young girls life when she realizes there are no barriers, other than those that are self imposed, to what ever she wants to be.

Michael Davis (Davisstories.com)

Author of the year, 2008

He made me realize just how different our minds think, and the difference in our writing styles.

I sent out a blanket email asking for help with a tag line for my next Champagne Books release in October, FULL THROTTLE. I included a blurb about the book to give everyone an idea of what it is about:

Samantha Roberts partners with her cousin to run Dr. Doug’s Mobile Dyno, a motorcycle testing and performance tuning business. Spurned by an ex-fiancée and resolved to taking care of her aging father and his medical problems, romance is the last thing she’s looking for while expanding her business is at the top of her priorities list.

Along comes opportunity in the form of Linc Montgomery, a tough, business-savvy, ex-Harley racer and new owner of Full Throttle Custom Cycles in Phoenix. Linc is used to having gorgeous women fall at his feet. When he meets Samantha and agrees to contract her dyno services, he quickly realizes she isn’t one of those brainless bimbos he normally dates before carelessly tossing aside.

The challenge is on for Linc as he sets out to seduce Samantha just to prove he can. However, he doesn’t plan on the interference of his ex-wife and her ex-fiancée – both of whom serve to make him realize that along the way, his ‘love her and leave her’ seduction scheme causes him to fall head over heels in love. But it isn’t so easy to convince Samantha she belongs to him.

Now, Big Mike thought this was just a terrible blurb. However, he writes suspense novels, not light romances like this is supposed to be. He wanted to hear something about the heroine’s inner demons and how the hero would slay her dragons. Yes, Samantha’s got some inner demons, but that’s not the focus of this book other than how it relates to her sex and love life!

His suggestions were very apropos for his books, but not for this one. And it also made me realize that since I am targeting purely female readers, they are looking for something in a contemporary romance that is far different from what a male reader would look for to pick out a suspense novel. My women beta testers loved the blurb and the whole idea of the book; men not so much.

Anyway, I’ve added one more sentence to the top of the blurb: “Phoenix is hot, but the bikers are even hotter”. And so far it looks like the tag line is going to be something along the lines of “A sexy romp of full throttle seduction leading to slow burning love” or “When Linc embarks on a full throttle seduction of Samantha, the last thing he expects is love to throw a wrench in the works “. I’m still working on it, though. Any suggestions are greatly appreciated!

After three decades of marriage, I’ve concluded that men suffer from what I call “Moth to the flame” syndrome. Even though we’ve been burned by the fire, we always come back again What do I mean? I have been sent out on a hundred assignments by my boss, and every single time I screw up, but instead of just saying, “Oh, no, there’s no way you’re going to get me this time”, I do it over and over again. And it’s not only me. All my buds suffer from the same sad condition.

Case in point. My wife wanted a new floor mat for the front door and assigned me the job of running down to the store and getting it (the old one was too ugly and we had company coming in from out of town). Now, in my defense, I did ask, “What color?”, “Doesn’t matter,” What shape?”, “doesn’t matter”, “What size?” “Doesn’t matter.” Well you get the idea. The kicker is that I ran through the same series of probing questions every time before, but I still always got the wrong thing, and like a moth to the flame, I always raced back into the fire again and again.

As I pondered carefully at the store over a four-dollar purchase, a young man saw me struggling and came over to help the old man examining every single floor mat in the display over and over.

“Can I help you, Sir?”

“Afraid not, Son.”

“Well, I’d like to try.”

“All right. My wife sent me to the store to find…” I didn’t have to finish my thought. With a sad expression and an understanding tone, he slowly shook his head. “I hear you brother.”

“Then you know…”

“Yes, I know. No matter what you do, it will be wrong.”

We both synchronized with lamenting head nods while the young man shared his own experience.

“Two weeks ago, I asked my newlywed wife, ‘Babe, what’d say we drive up the Blue Ridge and afterward stop for lunch. This will be your day, what ever you want.’ You see, I thought I was doing a good thing. I even asked, ‘What time do you want to stop for lunch’ and she said, ‘Oh, I don’t care you decide’ So around 1100 we were passing peaks of otter (a local restaurant) and she mentioned, ‘Isn’t that a cute little place over there?’ I nodded in agreement and kept driving. After another fifteen minutes I noticed the car had become strangely quiet. She was no longer humming or chatting about this and that. All the morning cheer had been replaced by a frown. ‘What’s the matter, Babe?’ I asked. She looked out the window and announced, ‘You don’t really love me anymore, do you?’ Man, I swear, I almost ran off the road. ‘What? Well of course I love you. You mean everything to me.’ ,‘Then why didn’t you stop when I asked you to? I thought you said this trip was about me?’”

I could see moisture forming in the poor boy’s eyes. “I swear man. I never knew when she said that ‘cute little place’ she meant…”

I firmly patted his shoulder and suggested, “I know son. Don’t try to figure it out. Just accept the inevitable. You will always be wrong. As the years go by, you’ll grow to accept your destiny, grasshopper.”

We both shook hands and departed with a profound appreciation for a man’s suffering and willingness to continually return to the flame. Oh, and I did get the wrong floor mat, but you knew that was coming didn’t you?

Michael Davis (Davisstories.com)
Author of the year, 2008

Is there anyone out in web world past the age of 25 that hasn’t recognized men and women communicate differently? In the early days of interactions with my life mate, I actually thought my main squeeze did her confusing way of communication to drive me crazy. After about ten years, it finally hit me. She just communicates in a different language, one I was never indoctrinated to in school. Need an example? Check this one out. When we go to the grocery store, if the boss says, “I’ll only be ten minutes,” I now know via my man-woman translator that she means, “come back in an hour or so.” Well, to help expedite the process, I ask for my own list that I can rush around, pick up, and toss into the basket.

About a month ago, I asked, “are we done yet, are we done yet”, and she handed me the dairy part of the page. The only items there were cream, butter, and OJ. I did as directed, got em, ran back, dumped the items in the cart and looked around but she was gone. I pushed the basket around until I found her and yelled, “meet ya at the check out counter”, and ran off. When we got home, after she unpacked all the groceries, she inquired, “Hey, you forgot the sour cream and cottage cheese? “ Now, I felt secure I was safe because I still had my copy of the diary list she had handed me. I extended the list and smiled, knowing I would be vindicated, “Check the list, woman. There’s no mention of sour cream OR cottage cheese.” She frowned. “I didn’t write them down because I know that every time I get in the dairy department to get cream, I always get cottage cheese and sour cream also. So where is it?” I was dumbfounded. “You mean to tell me that I was supposed to read you mind and …” Now get this, then she had the fortitude to inform me, “If you can’t do the job, then don’t offer to help.” Again, even thought I was technically right, I was gender blind when I read her grocery list and did not enact the gender translator. Oh, well. At least it makes life interesting.

Tell next time

Big Mike (Davisstories.com)
Author of the year, 2008

Big Mike took exception to the guy’s comments because he didn’t think it was realistic. Now maybe it’s because Mike was raised as a Southern gentleman and I was raised around men in an auto parts store, but we had a slight difference of opinion. Big Mike contends that the hero would never have stood by while this dialogue was going on, even if the woman was a complete stranger. Alas, but not all men are as chivalrous.

I can think of several instances where I’ve encountered a real jackass. I’ve had an ex-boyfriend slash my tires and throw a knife into the headlights on my beloved Chevy Camaro Berlinetta while I watched. In a previous post, I related how a manager of mine in the auto parts store pounded his fist on the counter mere inches from my face. I’ve been the target of many a raised fist (that luckily never made contact due to the man’s better judgment kicking in at the last minute). I’ve head crude comments when I was walking down the street, such as “Hey honey! Looking good! Want to come for a ride with me?” I’ve seen rude hand gestures, heard smoochy noises, and been subjected to unwanted touching and groping.

In none of these cases did some knight in shining armor come to my rescue, even when there were other men around. Nope, I was on my own.

I have to think I’m not the only one. Ladies, tell me if you’ve encountered a similar circumstance in your life.

He’s right.

But that doesn’t mean I needed an oh-so-gentle reminder.

Since I hate to be a slacker, I decided I’d better get busy posting.

The good news is that we are going forward on a brand new writing collaboration. As Big Mike likes to say, I am on top this time. So I picked the place: Arizona’s southern border. And my heroine: an investigative journalist. An the premise in a broad sense: drug smuggling and a fanatic religious cult based on the FLDS (the Fundamentalist Latter Day Saints, in case you haven’t heard of Warren Jeffs – who is now in prison – and his polygamist offshoot sect of the Mormon religion).

We are currently still hashing out the plot and the outline, but both of us are excited about the premise and the possibilities for action, suspense, and romance. I think you will be surprised at the hero Big Mike came up with, and I’m certain you will be more than a little surprised at what happens by the end of the novel.

So here’s to another successful writing venture, Big Mike. Cheers (clinking cyber champagne glass)… Now get off my case!