Showing posts with label Kimberley Troutte. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kimberley Troutte. Show all posts

23 June 2014

A New Bride for My Hubby

This is my hubby's big milestone birthday month. And we're not in a panic, no.

Years ago, when he was but a babe, he promised himself he'd be driving a Porsche 911 before this birthday struck. He did NOT want to look like one of those old guys speeding through a mid-life crisis. I promised him a new bride to ride shotgun. Okay, the wife is still me, but I was determined to be a fitter, skinnier, stronger version of the gal he married twenty-five years ago.

Well...let's just say there's no new car in the driveway and I'm still rockin' the same jeans I've been trying to ditch for a smaller pair. What in the heck happened?

Life. Sometimes she steps in our path and gets tangled up with our feet. We've had much bigger things to plan for, like college graduations for two of the best kids on the planet. And feeding them. Who knew how much teenage boys could eat?

But we've kept the big promises to each other and have a glorious life together. Hubby is still test-driving Porsche 911's though, so maybe that counts?  I've got to say the sexy fox does look smokin' hot behind the wheel. Gosh, I love that man no matter what he drives.And if he scrunches his eyes just so, I might actually look like the skinnier bride I promised.



That's not to say I've given up on my promise. No way. It just takes a little longer to lose those inches than I remember. I'll rock a new pair of jeans, one of these days. Hey! Maybe next big milestone. Either that or wait until he can't see anymore and do the next best thing...lie.

Until then, happy birthday, baby.

Readers: Have you made promises that were a bit difficult to keep? What did you do about it?

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28 April 2014

Unloading: Cleaning Your Mental Closet

I have to laugh at this theme because my mental closet has been so jammed full lately that the doors have busted and all the junk inside is falling out.

It's a busy time.

I have to keep at least two calendars running--the one hanging in the kitchen and the one on my phone--and am still worried I'll forget an important appointment.

Both of my kids are graduating from their schools this year.

A couple of big family birthdays are coming up.

Travel is on the horizon.

The house is falling apart around my ears, requiring plumbers and fix-it men galore.

I have written more books this year than any time in my life. And I'm learning how to swim in the fast-moving social media rivers. (Still a bit worried I'm going to drown.)

I am determined to get in shape--physically and mentally--which means exercising AND relaxing.

So...yes, if anyone knows how to clean out my mental closet, please let me know. Until then, I'll just keep shoveling the junk back inside.

kimberleytroutte.com

31 March 2014

Almost Time to Get DOWN AND DIRTY

Since I have already posted about the March theme, I decide to give you a few sneak peaks of my new books coming out in April.

DOWN AND DIRTY--SEAL EXtreme Team Short Story
Available April 10th.


Final request… SEAL Lieutenant Commander Nick Talley keeps promises, but taking care of a teammate’s sister is a vow he should’ve made. How can a man tortured by the past, help a woman fight her tough future?

Broken dreams…Ironman qualifier, Jill Connors, is counting the days until her brother brings handsome Nick home with him. But a buried IED takes her brother’s life and a drunk driver steals her competition hopes. Will Nick want a woman with only one foot?  Love has a way of healing the wounded…one muddy step at a time.  


SEALs Of Summer: Military Romance Superbundle 
Available April 21.


Ten novellas and novels by New York Times, USA Today and award-winning bestselling authors: Delilah Devlin, Sharon Hamilton, Anne Marsh, Cora Seton, Zoe York, Roxie Riviera, S.M. Butler, Kimberley Troutte, Jennifer Lowery, Elle James.


COMING IN HOT--SEAL EXtreme Team (# 1)
eBook included in the SEALS of Summer boxed set. Print book available now.



For Navy SEAL Mack Riley, rescuing a family in Colombian jungles isn’t as hard as seeing the admiral’s daughter again, but since Jenna is joining the hostage rescue team, his orders are to protect her. In the heat of battle, love breaches their defenses just as missiles lock onto their coordinates …can they save the family and get out alive?

Happy reading!

Kimberley Troutte

03 March 2014

Getting Published: Is it Luck or Skill?

It's March and time for a new topic. Getting Published. Luck or skill?

Would you laugh at me if I said both?
In my experience, getting editors to say YES! is extremely difficult, except when it's amazingly easy. :-)

Before you throw something at me, let me explain.

I like to tell people that I heard the party going on at Samhain Publishing and when no one was looking I crawled through the dog door and joined in. My first book wasn't supposed to be a stand-alone story at all. In fact, it started out as a short that I wrote for a contest.

I read about the contest in the newspaper. The winner would receive a free pass to the writer's conference and I was itching to go to. The contestants were given a writing prompt about a man who sees a beautiful woman he is attracted to her and then kills her. Ugh. I write romance. How in the world could I write a story with such a beginning?

Unless...

Unlesss the man, is really Death come to kill the only woman he can't live without. The two make a pact, turn the Natural Order on it's head, batta-boom-batta-bing...SOUL STEALER was born.

But it was just a short story. Samhain had released a call for humorous stories they wanted to publish in an anthology. I thought to myself, "Yeah, this story is sort of quirky, not hysterically funny, but maybe they'll like it."

I received a note from one of the editors that my story wasn't chosen for the anthology but had been forwarded on to another editor for review. Yes! I liked the sound of that. Even better, the editor wanted my story to become a stand-alone novella if only I could make it longer. How could I say no? I made it longer and also pitched the novel I was working on. Both books were published.

So, I might have crawled through the dog door, but I was ready to party. I'd taken classes, gone to conferences, and honed my skills to be ready for the moment. I wrote, wrote, wrote. And I read like a madwoman. I joined writer's forums, chapters, and asked questions to stay educated about what the publishing houses were looking for. When an editor announced a craving, or need, I sent what I thought could satisfy her.

Batta-boom, batta-bing.
http://kimberleytroutte.com/


19 August 2013

On the Journey

I loved Amy's post about her camping trip and thought I would share a few of my pics too. These are all photos I've taken while going for a walk. It is amazing how much beauty is all around us. Sometimes we need to just stop a second and take it all in.

Writing books requires a lot of sitting time at my desk, which is great for the stories, not so great for my body. My backside has no business resembling my desk chair. So, I walk everyday to loosen up the old bod and to freshen up my mind. Stepping away from the computer and breathing fresh air lets my mind relax and many times I come back from the stroll ready to jump on a new scene.

This picture reminds me that life is journey. We never know where that road is going to take us.


And sometimes we have two roads to choose from. Which would you take, the curved, or the straight one?


The road has taken me to a lazy harbor at the base of the Grand Tetons (the glorious sights in this place were unbelievable)...


...along a private golf course in Palm Dessert (who knew the desert could be so lush in August?)...


...and to the top of a mountain on a hike with the local YMCA.



Wherever I go, I try to stop and soak in the beauty all around us. Isn't this a magnificent oak tree?


Oh, and when I get to where I'm going, I might do a little happy dance (see son demonstrating).


Life is a journey. Enjoy the walk.

Kimberley Troutte



24 June 2013

Hot Stuff

I totally agree with my blog co-authors. I love to read stories with sizzle. The characters don't have to enter the bedroom as long as the attraction between them is real and palpable. That attraction will keep me reading.

I will be the first to admit that writing, ahem, hot scenes is outside my comfort zone.  I've gotten better at it because I let the characters guide me, not the other way around. If I am deeply connected with my characters, they will do what they do naturally. I just try to get out of the way.

That said, I am not a fan of including sex scenes in a story just to jack up the heat level. The scenes I write, no matter what they are, have to serve specific purposes.

They MUST:
Drive the story forward
Give the reader a peek into the character's soul
Establish the conflict and keep cranking up the difficulties
Keep the reader entranced

In that respect, hot scenes are no different than, say, action scenes.

Crawling under the sheets together is apt to create more problems and conflict for the characters than before. Coming together shows strength as well as vulnerabilities. More is at stake once the characters make that leap, which is juicy fun for the reader.

In my mind, conflict is what keeps us turning the pages. Can the sizzle be part of the conflict? You betcha.
Love is the glue that sticks us to the characters. A satisfying ending makes us want to pick up another book and start all over again.

So...is it hot in here?

www.kimberleytroutte.com


01 April 2013

Fresh Ideas, Where Do They Come From?

The simple answer? Everywhere.

Real life is fodder for my fictional worlds. Anything and everything goes. 

If a subject interests me, I will read all I can about it. My author brain likes to take the interesting topic and say "what if". 

For example, when researching earthquakes I wondered what it would be like to be trapped in one. And what if a claustrophobic heroine--who's greatest fear is being tied down--becomes buried alive during an earthquake and must trust the hero--who's greatest fear is losing the woman he loves--to search the rubble and get her out before the world crashes down. 

Sometimes an idea smacks me upside the head when I least expect it. Like when I'm in the shower or exercising. 

We've all seen Psycho, so let's skip the shower scene. But what if during, say, a yoga class the students wear blindfolds and the heroine accidentally wanders onto a mat that isn't hers. With her hands in front of her she bumps into a hard male who uses his hands to figure out who she is. Who is he and why does he whisper her name? 

Stories are all around us. It just takes a little "what if" and imagination to turn an interesting topic or setting into a seller. 

 www.kimberleytroutte.com

14 March 2013

Betrayal - Eat Too, Brulee?


Betrayal is our theme this month and I have a doozie: FOOD PUSHERS!

That's right, folks, food pushers.

If I were a ghost, no one would try to stuff me full of cake.  But no.  I'm not a paranormal phenomenon, I am a flesh-and-blood creature who apparently likes cake.  Lots of cake.  Including the cake my coworker brought in today, a confection gleefully called "Lemon Cake."

Lemon cake?  Be still my heart.  Lemon is only my second favorite dessert flavor, you cretonous carbuncle!  The only thing better than homemade lemon cake would be homemade chocolate peanut butter cups.

Don't get any ideas.

Betrayal of the waistline by the taste buds.  Could there be anything for heinous?  More foul?

Oh, fine.  I will throw in with these food pushers, these providers of cake and chocolate and all things that make us bigger than life.  Hah!

Did you know there's a God of Cake?  No?  Check it out, here.

And if THAT wasn't enough, fellow BtVer Kimberley Troutte and I have a brand-spanking-new cookbook, hot off the keyboards, for your enjoyment!  Check out COOK LIKE A WRITER, available for download free.

04 March 2013

The Ides of March: Betrayal and Why We Love to Read (and Write) About It


This month we are going to be discussing betrayal in the stories that we write and read. Before we begin, I thought I’d talk about the Ides of March because I have to admit that I’d heard the expression but wasn’t real clear on its history. And I still haven’t seen the Clooney movie either.
Thank goodness for the internet.

The word “ides” comes from the Latin “idus”, which was used in the Roman calendar to depict the middle of the month. The Ides of March would therefore be March 15th. As a side note, this date used to be the day to celebrated and honor the god, Mars.
So where in the world did the idea of betrayal come from?

The 15th of March 44 B.C was the day Julius Caesar was stabbed to death by the Roman Senate. In his biography, Parallel Lives, the Greek historian Lucius Plutarchus wrote that a seer had warned Caesar that he would be harmed but no later than the Ides of March. While on his way to the Theatre of Pompey, the place where he was to be killed, a very much alive Caesar met the seer once again.
“The Ides of March have come,” Caesar said, clearly poking fun at the seer for prophesizing falsely.

The seer replied, “Aye, Caesar; but not gone.”
That night Caesar himself would be gone, murdered by a group of senators including his close friend, Marcus Junius Brutus. In modern times the phrase “You too, Brutus?” comes from the scene in William Shakespeare’s play, Julius Caesar (1599) where Caesar resisted his attackers until he recognized his dear friend in the mix. After after uttering the line, “Et tu, Brute?” he resigned himself to his fate and stopped struggling.

This ultimate betrayal by a friend has forevermore been linked to the Ides of March. And now we know.

Do you have any favorite betrayal stories?

For some reason, spy stories come to mind for me. Possibly because I just rented the new James Bond thriller, Skyfall. Without giving away too much, the theme in this action adventure is all about betrayal and the breaking of trust. If you haven't seen it, I highly recommend it.

www.kimberleytroutte.com

07 January 2013

You're Only Jealous Because Stories Don't Talk to You

I am so excited. Seriously, jumping up and down pumping the air excited.

Did I win the lottery? Hubs hired me a house-cleaner? I found out I'm a bestselling author?

No. That would be the day. And oh man, I wish.

Don't laugh or call those guys in white coats to come take me away and I'll tell you my secret. Are you ready?

In the shower while I was washing my hair, the meaning of the universe was revealed, well at least in the universe I am creating. In short, the story I am working on told me what it's about. That my friends is worth an air punch or two.

This would possibly make more sense if I backed up and explained my writing process. Unlike normal authors, I don't necessarily know what I am writing. The story reveals itself to me in strange and unusual ways. To start at the beginning is to find a seedling of an idea, call it a simple kernel of truth, or a nugget so intriguing that I want to turn it over in my hand and hold it up for the world to see.

For example, Soul Stealer, came from a writing contest prompt about a man who kills a beautiful woman. I HATED that prompt. I almost didn't enter the contest because I write happily-ever-after-love stories. How was that going to work if the man kills the woman in the first scene? Unless...

Unless that man was Death coming to kill the one woman he can't live without. Now we're talking. ~rubs palms together.

The next part of my process involves the character sketch. So I have Death. Who is he? What's his background? What is he afraid of? Does he love, hate, or feel indifferent to his job? If he could changes things, would he? I sit down with a pad of paper and sketch out all that I can about this character.

I do the same thing for the heroine. Who is she? She's dying. Why? What would she give Death in order to live longer. He's been around forever and has heard it all. What could he possibly want from her? Why would she want to deal with him?

Once I know my characters pretty well, I jot down the scenes that I know have to be in the story. At this point I usually can "see" the climax and even the ending. I know where I want to go and have a general sense of how to get there.

But! This is the big BUT, the meaning of the universe has yet to be revealed. The deep down core meaning of the book needs to come to life. It's frustrating, really, but it takes time for that kernel to grow into a tree. Many times, if the core meaning is really deep, I need to write half the book to find it. It's like digging and digging in search of treasure buried deep in the pages. When I find the loot? Air pump!!!

This happened to me this morning. In the shower. Yes, the stories talk to me. Thank goodness.

www.kimberleytroutte.com

10 December 2012

Dark and Delicious Heroes

We love our bad boys, don't we?

Lexxie touched on some of the reasons why I like to read about them and watch them in movies. It's all about the attitude. They are smart, sometimes sophisticated, don't care what others think and basically do what they want to get what they want.

And if a bad boy sets his sights on a girl? Well, we know what comes next...fireworks.

Who doesn't like to watch fireworks?

Cain, from my book, Soul Stealer, is one of my greatest bad guys. He's sexy, smart, and a loner. As the General of the Death Squad, he is required to stand guard as a person's soul rips from their body.  He is not supposed to feel for his victims or listen to silly begging for more time. He's heard and seen it all and nothing phases him.

Until the day he comes to kill Sara, a woman working against him to save lives.

Sara is the one person who gets to him and is the only woman he wishes he could spend more time with. Her goodness touches him and for a moment, he feels. A very bad thing for Death.

A good thing for love.

He will fight demons and all the Powers that Be for her, risking his own demise. Can Sara shred the hard case around his heart?

That's what I love to see--bad boys who have attitude but will let one woman in.

Fireworks.

www.kimberleytroutte.com

12 November 2012

Old School and New School—Romantic Set-ups


A funny thing happened to me on the way to publishing my third book.

My editor rejected it. Soundly, I might add. And tears, I’ll add those too. I just figured that once I’d sold two books I was golden. Editors supposed to love everything their authors write, right?
Um, not necessarily.

The main reason my editor rejected the manuscript was that it didn’t follow a typical old school set-up. The characters actually liked each other the moment they met. Not love, but like. This was no good.  Who knew? Well, my editor, but not me.

I didn’t understand that since the dawning of time, readers have adored the old school romantic trope of “enemies to lovers”, or “strangers to lovers”. Those storylines are still going strong because the conflict and tension between the characters is palpable. Conflict keeps us turning pages. The desire to resolve the conflict in a satisfying loving way is why most of us read romance.

After pouting for a bit, I realized I needed to increase the conflict. I began the arduous task by throwing out the first third of the book and starting over from scratch. I made things tougher for my characters. They don’t hate each other but they do have competing objectives—real, noble, life or death goals. If one wins, the other loses and people could die unless they find a way to work together.

After tossing out the first third, I tossed the middle third and completely rewrote the final third. You don’t need to be a mathematician to see that I rewrote the whole darned enchilada. But it’s okay because I love it! This story is much deeper, more complex, more emotional, more…everything. Breath-stealing conflict was the key. Characters we love to root for is another other key. Heart-stopping plot is the third. Well, there are lots of keys.

I am still tinkering, but I am tickled to say that this manuscript is a finalist in four writing contests. I am excited beyond words to see what the final judges decide.

Apparently my editor, like my Mom, is always right.

www.kimberleytroutte.com

15 October 2012

Ghost Stories

My grandmother had some of the best ghost stories and I was an eager listener.

There was the time that her favorite brother came to her in a dream. He was covered in dirt as if he was a child again rolling in a giant dirt pile. But he was no child, he was a young working man far, far from home.

"Cap?" she mumbled, using his nickname. "What are you doing here?" Wasn't he supposed to be in Alaska?

She could barely make out the whites of his eyes, widening in alarm. He tried to speak and puffs of dust spewed out, but no sounds. Only the dust. So much dust.

Terror seized her. "What's wrong? What are you saying?" 

His mouth opened and closed so quickly that it seemed he was smoking dirt. Choking on it. And his eyes. She'd never forget the anguish, grief, sadness swirling in her favorite blue eyes.

"Cap!" she screamed and woke herself up.

Later the next day when a messenger arrived, my young grandmother became distraught, crying and wailing before her mother could open the letter. She didn't need to read or be told that her sweet brother had been killed during a mine cave-in. She already knew. In the middle of the night he'd come to tell his favorite sister good-bye.

I've always wondered what my great-uncle had tried to say.

Happy Halloween.

www.kimberleytroutte.com


17 September 2012

My TV Must-Sees

I admit to be a tad-bit addicted to American Idol and X Factor.

What draws me to these shows? The judges? The chance for someone to win multi-million dollar contracts? The melt-downs, arguments and crazy drama?

Nope.

I love these shows because I connect with the contestants. 


I feel their pain when the nerves close their throats.
I feel their joy when they sing better than they believed they could.
I love it when their hearts and emotions, raw and deep, float out with the notes through the camera all the way to the me sitting at home on the couch.

In a small way, I am them and they are me.
Authors, singers, performers are all artists struggling, growing, learning, improving our craft in the public eye. We stand on that stage before the world doing our very best to get people to love us. Oh, that sounds a little overly dramatic, but it's true isn't it?

It's all about giving love-- the desire to reach out and touch someone, anyone, with our gifts.
And receiving love--the viewer, or reader, experiencing the gifts in a way that touches their hearts.

Can't wait.

Kimberley Troutte
www.kimberleytroutte

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20 August 2012

Why We Hate AND Love You, Dr. House

One of my favorite characters on television is one that I would personally hate to be in the same room with. Dr. House (played exquisitely by Hugh Laurie) is, well, a perfect a$$. I’m not the only one who thinks so either, his co-workers, friends and patients call him that nearly every episode. They could put his picture next to the word “jacka$$” in the Dictionary and we’d all nod our heads in agreement.

Dr. House’s faults? How much time do you have?

Let’s start with his attitude. He’s gruff, downright mean sometimes, arrogant, egotistical and NOT always right.

He’s a drug addict who lifts his addiction above his family, friends, lovers, and personal safety.

Disconnected from society, Dr. House chooses to be a spectator in life, rather than a true participant. He picks apart every aspect of humanity as if he isn’t one of us.

He likes mind games, enjoying pitting people against one another for sport. He will press personal “hot buttons” just to see what will happen next.

There’s so much to not like about the guy, so why in the world would we love Dr. House?

Because the show’s writers are brilliant.

First off, they created this inherently unlovable guy and made us feel sorry him. It is no easy feat to feel sorry for a perfect donkey butt. But we do, right? Why?


1)  The man walks with a cane. That image alone tugs on our heartstrings a bit. It’s hard to want to punch a guy in the nose if he has a terrible limp and walks with a cane.

2)  But the writer’s went deeper than that. Dr. House walks with a cane and is in terrible agonizing pain every day of his life. I can’t imagine living with constant pain and this softens my heart toward House even more.

3) The only way he can deal with pain is to take drugs. Now wait a minute! That was one of the reasons I don’t like Dr. House, because he’s a drug addict who puts his addiction above his friends and such. But, but…if he’s hurting that bad how else can he survive? And how terribly sad that he has lost his loved ones because of the drugs that are reducing his pain.

4) He is disconnected from others because it is too painful for him to get too close. People die on him all the time. Or they disappoint him. He erects walls to protect his heart.

5) The mind game stuff is his way of trying to learn the truth. He is so sure that everyone lies or has a selfish motive for actions, that he is completely intrigued when someone is unselfish. Or acts out of love. Or to protect a loved one. Dr. House learns lessons in humanity every episode.

Beyond feeling sorry for Dr. House, we respect him. The writer’s made Dr. House:

A) The best at what he does. Period. No one is better.
B)  Loved by at least one friend and one lover. If these highly successful smart people love him, he must have some redeeming qualities.
C) Admitter of mistakes—remember he is NOT always right, but he does admit when he is wrong and moves forward to fix his mistakes.
D)  Say it like it is. Dr. House may twist the truth to his advantage but says exactly what we would want to say if we could. Bold, frank and to the point.
E) A life saver. He doesn’t make excuses, doesn’t quit or waver until he has done everything in his power to save the patient when no one else can.

Like I said, the writers are brilliant. I may not want to be in the same room with such a man, but if I was dying, I wouldn’t care if the doctor was an a$$. I’d want him to save me. End of story.

How about you? Do you hate, love or both Dr. House?

www.kimberleytroutte.com

06 February 2012

The Love in My Job

February Topic--On Silk Sheets: From Cuddling to Climax the Changing Face of Romance

I have one of the best jobs. Seriously, not many people get to bring love to the world on a daily basis. It doesn’t get much better than that, unless maybe being an obstetrician.

But what is a romance, exactly?

It might be a good idea to start out the discussion with a definition of the genre as provided by the Romance Writers of America:

"…Two basic elements comprise every romance novel: a central love story and an emotionally-satisfying and optimistic ending.

A Central Love Story: The main plot centers around two individuals falling in love and struggling to make the relationship work. A writer can include as many subplots as he/she wants as long as the love story is the main focus of the novel.

An Emotionally-Satisfying and Optimistic Ending: In a romance, the lovers who risk and struggle for each other and their relationship are rewarded with emotional justice and unconditional love.

Romance novels may have any tone or style, be set in any place or time, and have varying levels of sensuality—ranging from sweet to extremely hot. These settings and distinctions of plot create specific subgenres within romance fiction."

http://www.rwa.org/cs/the_romance_genre

This definition leaves room in the publishing industry for all levels of sensuality from sweet to erotica. Romance authors can write the sort of stories they feel comfortable telling and the reader has the chance to find the kind of book he/she is comfortable reading. A win-win.

What do I write?

I find myself writing somewhere between sweet to mildly spicy with enough sexual tension to tell the best story I can. Intimate scenes cannot be space fillers. They need to increase conflict, provide emotional depth, show character motivation, introduce plot twists, use as many sensory descriptions as possible, and move the story forward. Just as the other scenes do.

Sometimes, that means closing the door. Other times, it means throwing the door so wide open that the reader is inside the character’s skin.

How steamy the pages get depend on the characters themselves. After all, they are the ones living in the story.

Author girl just needs to jump out of the way and let them find love.

http://kimberleytroutte.com/

12 December 2011

Building My Worlds

Our theme this month is about the worlds we create in our books.

I like what my co-bloggers have said about the difficulties and excitement involved with inventing brand new places. Many times the settings in paranormal, SF and fantasy books can become as rich and unique as the characters themselves.

In my books, I take a different approach. The towns where my stories take place should seem very familiar to you, maybe even too familiar. My characters could be fighting demons, or talking to ghosts in YOUR backyard. It's fun for me to imagine that a demon-killer could be the neighbor who puts his trashcans on the street next to mine.

I've brought with me the opening pages to Soul Stealer.

You can tell me if Main Street sounds anything like your town.

Happy Holidays,

Kimberley Troutte
www.kimberleytroutte.com

Soul Stealer
Copyright © 2009 Kimberley Troutte
All rights reserved — a Samhain Publishing, Ltd. publication

December 23, 2009

He tries to blend in, just another man caught up in the Christmas rush surging down Main Street. Pulling up the collar of his worn bomber jacket, he keeps his chin tucked down. It won’t help matters to be recognized.

He glances through the window of an overstocked toy store. “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” blasts from inside. Searching, searching, his eyes rake over the shoppers clamoring for last-minute gifts. Nothing.

The night air sears his lungs, but the icy grip squeezing his heart is not from the cold. He swipes at his watering eyes. He needs to focus, stay alert.

Forcing his legs into a normal gait, neither too fast, nor too slow, he keeps walking. He is almost to the corner with the two-story brick apartment building, the one he walks past every night. The old lady who lives there now refuses to help him. The people down at the shelter are no good to him either. They all say they don’t know where she is.

They lie.

Since his release three weeks ago, he has walked Main Street morning, noon and night, hoping to get lucky. Tonight he wonders if he ever will. The old anger creeps into his chest.
He stops, throws his head back and silently demands of the heavens, How long will I be punished?

There is no answer.

People bump into him as they hurry by, cursing as they go. “Silent Night” blares from the store behind him. Exhaling deeply, he blows white vapor toward the stars. No. He won’t stop searching for her. Not until the day he dies.

And then, for the first time in his long-lived existence, his prayers are answered.

He has the sensation of being shot out of a cannon. His blood explodes through his veins and pounds in his ears. Dizzy, he can’t tell if his feet are still on the ground. The street noises become background static. Colors fuzz.

He sees only her.

Walking at a fast clip on the other side of the street is the flesh-and-body version of the woman in his dreams. Nightmares.

She stops to talk to an old man who lives on the streets. Putting a hand on the man’s shoulder, she points off in the distance toward the homeless shelter. When he balks, she vehemently shakes her head. It’s a cold night and she doesn’t want anyone out in it. Smiling, she watches the old man shuffle off in the direction of the shelter.

He is shocked to see the years on her, especially the curves where she once was athletic-slim. Her long ponytail has been reduced to a short bob cupping her chin. He wonders how different this woman is today, but when she tosses the hair out of her eyes, he sees the confidence of old, and he smiles. She hasn’t changed, at least not in the ways that matter.

Somehow, she senses him. Does she feel the heat from his stare? Slowly, she turns. Across the busy street, her eyes lock onto his. With the golden glow of the lamplight catching like flames in the strands of her blond hair, she is more angelic than he remembered. And when she smiles?

Lord help him, when she smiles, she is even more beautiful than she’d been the night he killed her.

14 November 2011

Visit from My 100-Year-Old Self

Since we are talking about the future, I borrowed the idea from Brad Paisley’s song, “Letter to Me” and had my 100-year-old self visit present-day me.

First off, Kimberley, don’t get freaked out. This really is what you are going to look like in the year 2065. Smokin’ hot, right?

And no, I am not visiting you from the Great Beyond. I’m still alive, thank you very much. Time travel is not such a big deal from my side of things.

So…why have I travelled sixty odd years to see you? Well Kimbo, you need a little guidance on this journey of ours. That email you keep staring at like it's a death sentence is liable to create stress that could sabotage our full life. Trust me, you don’t get to be this smokin’ hot by carrying stress baggage day-in-day-out.

My first piece of advice?

Dump the baggage. It’s heavy, ugly, outdated and gives you wrinkles. Let it go. Find your bliss instead. Work at being happy and you will, well, be happy. And so will I.

On that note, it is awesome to be wealthy and famous (more on that later) but you can’t place a value on love. Make sure your family and friends know how much you care. Nothing is more important than love. Not one thing. Especially not that email. Stop looking at it!

From this side of the journey, time is measured in days, not years. Each day is a gift and I’ll slap you silly if you squander your gifts! Get up each morning, put your big girl panties on, and face the day with a smile. Smiling works wonders.

But don’t keep things bottled up, either. Biting your tongue only gives you a sore tongue and a future full of trouble. Remember the melt-down at Targas Eight? Um, sorry. No you wouldn’t remember that since it will happen in 2045. The point is: Arm yourself with love, flood your heart with compassion, and speak your mind. Always.

Be strong. Living for over a century is not for the weak of heart. Hell will come at you when you least expect it, but know that God will be there too. He’ll send angels on earth to comfort you. He always has. And you will survive. Even hell has its limits.

Keep your faith strong. Do you think God would have given us this crazy butt-kicking writing dream slash talent if He didn’t expect us to use it? Would I have made it on the list of Intergalactic Wordsmith Masters if I didn’t believe I could? Believe, woman. Don’t let the fools convince you that you won’t make it. I may be gritty and sassy, but I assure you, I am no fool.

Which leads us to today. Stop fretting over that rejection. Sweet Heaven, you’re going to get at least a thousand of them, might as well make some peace with those bad boys. Each rejection moves you closer to becoming the writer you always wanted to be. Listen to the naysayers, but don’t let them wallop you. Shield our dream in a safe place so that we can succeed.

And believe me, we DO succeed. Gotta run. My broadcast interview is on Mars today and afterwards I’m taking the great-grandbabies for triple-decker chocolate sundaes. Great things, like dark chocolate, never go out of style.

Kisses.

Readers: What would 100-Year-Old YOU tell yourself?

http://kimberleytroutte.com/

17 October 2011

Chills and Thrills

Our October theme is about dragons and other creatures who chill us and thrills us. It made me wonder why we love them so much. Why do we like to be scared out of our wits? Why do we keep coming back for more?

My son is a perfect example. Halloween is one of his favorite days of the year and not just because of the mass-candy-collection. He loves to dress up to scare and be scared by ugly, snarling, fanged, blood dripping creatures of the night.

I'll never forget the first time we took him to a haunted house. He was a tiny thing and I didn't want him to go, but he begged and whined until we finally agreed to take him in.

The second that we stepped past the curtain, I regretted it.

Imagine a dark "cemetery" complete with gravestones and moaning ghosts set up inside a theater. We followed a guide as she walked slowly through black curtained tunnels, under drippy spiderwebs, and passed strobe lights. Masked zombies, headless horsemen, terrifying ghosts, and freaky goblins followed us, rattling chains and reaching through the curtains as if to snatch us away.

I was looking for the exits.

My son had a death grip on my arm so tight that I worried he might peel back skin. I kept asking him if he wanted to leave. He made a little cry in his throat but firmly shook his head "no." He wanted to stay.

The tension built as we headed into a cement hallway. I could only guess that we were beneath the theater. Suddenly, an ear-piercing "rrrr-rrr" echoed down the corridor.

Chainsaw. Coming for us.

My son nearly yanked my shoulder out of its socket. Instinctively, I pulled him behind me, sheltering his little body with my own.

The creature with the chainsaw slid past us on his knees, the REAL chainsaw smoking up the room so that we could barely see his hideous demon mask. My son froze in his tracks, gripping my waist so hard that I couldn't move.

I turned around to reassure him and got the surprise of my life.

My little man faced the demon with the saw and...growled!

I'm not kidding. He let loose this gut-wrenching noise that easily matched the decibel level the chainsaw was creating. And then he did it again and didn't stop. His growls echoed down the hallway. And then...we were outside. It was over.

"Wow, that was really scary," I said.
"I know," he whispered, his eyes still wide. "Can we go again?"

So maybe my little son answered the question about why we like to be scared out of our wits. Being terrified had actually empowered him. He looked the devil in the eye and didn't back down. Heck, he might even have scared the poor teenager in the demon mask who probably had never been growled at by a kid. My son found strength in the darkness, in the unknown, in the terror, while realizing all along that it wasn't real. Mom was always there and so were the exits. Everything after that was a roller coaster ride.

Have a safe and sweet Halloween.

Kimberley Troutte


19 September 2011

The Truth Is Out There

I have broad tastes.

For TV shows I like quirky (Pushing Up Daisies), funny (Seinfeld, Friends), dramatic (24, Grey's Anatomy, Hill Street Blues) and romantic (Bachelor).

But my all time favorite, the series that would make me look foward to Sunday nights, was X-Files.

OMG, I loved that show.

The intrigue, the eww-factor, the FBI procedures, cases ripped from the headlines, the paranormal mysteries about aliens to serial killers...all combined with two of the best, well-written characters on tv.

Agent Mulder, with his spooky, heart-felt, intelligent, fighting for justice yumminess could have carried the show alone BUT add to the mix the small, cute, gentle, brave, super-smart, pessimistic, medical doctor, Agent Scully and...BAM!

A great show. Sigh, I miss it.

The truth is still out there...somewhere, just not on TV Sunday nights.

Kimberley's website