I had originally planned to attend the Race for the Cure with my friend.  She was sick so I recruited my husband.  It wasn’t long before I realized fate had intervened and I had chosen the perfect person.  He had been my caregiver during my journey.  It was only right he be with me as a survivor.

We started my journey in April of 2011 when I went for my annual exams.  Everything was wonderful.  My first book was coming out.  Life was good.  The I received a call back a few days later requesting me to return for another mammogram and ultrasound.  I returned the next week, worried and hesitant but sure everything would be all right.  The Doctor who read my screens explained he found a mass and wanted to refer me to a surgeon.  The mass he found was too close to the chest wall for a needle biopsy so I needed to have a surgical biopsy.  In less than a week I was meeting with my surgeon as he explained how we were going to proceed.  That Friday the 13^th of May I was to show up for surgery, they would take what tissue was necessary and send it off to pathology.  I would know the results by the next Tuesday.  I tried to rest and not think about the result but after Tuesday came and went with no word, I was worried.  Wednesday I called my surgeons office.  The Doctor returned my call Wednesday, May 18^th around 4:30.  When I heard his voice on the phone, my heart sunk.  I knew the news wasn’t good.  He proceeded to tell me he had received the test results back and I had Ductal carcinoma in situ (DCIS).  The only word I understood was carcinoma.  Cancer, I had cancer.  My journey had begun.

As the words mastectomy, lumpectomy, radiation and chemotherapy were tossed around I had a discussion with my body during a morning shower.  I was doing everything I could to maintain the ‘girls’.  They were given to me as a pair and I wanted to keep them a pair.  My mother and my aunt had been through this before so they were my long distance supports.  My brother was information and support.   After many tests to determine if there where anymore hot spots and a second surgery to gain a clear margin of tissue and take lymph nodes to find out if the cancer had spread, radiation was the course of treatment.  I was referred to an Oncologist and Radiologist.  These were two doctors I never thought I would be patients of.

During my recovery time my husband was my caretaker.  My mother and aunt continued to call to check in almost every day but my husband was there to drive me to surgeries.  He was there to fix me breakfast, lunch and dinner until I was back on my feet and we both returned to work.  I made it through my first book launch and a wonderful, relaxing week at the lakehouse with my writing frineds.  I was scheduled to start radiation July 18^th, two months after I was diagnosed.  The fun was just beginning.

My husband’s boss made it possible for him to work from home during my treatments.  For the next six and a half weeks he would be available, available to take me to treatments and take care of some of the responsibilities around the house since I continued to work full time.  The people in my department had also surprisingly taken on the responsibility of getting me through this time.  Two of my bosses had already been through their journey and knew the fight I was up against.  The numbers thirty three through zero were written on the white board on the wall so I could cross each treatment off as they were completed.  Also the number of people who had seen my breasts was updated.  I was expecting to collect beads for each one when all this was done.  I was given a grade at the end of each week showing how well I was doing along with treats being brought in to celebrate.  The goal was to go out to dinner to celebrate when my treatments were completed.

After six and a half weeks of exhausting treatments, burnt skin, daily trips to the cancer center and Doctor appointments I had made it through.  At my last treatment I received a certificate of completion.  I was never so happy to be done with something in my life.  After many hugs, I said my goodbye’s and returned to work.  As I walked on the trading floor after completing my last treatment, the first person I ran into was a male friend who was wearing a strand of pink beads around his neck.  As I glanced around the floor, I noticed everyone was wearing pink beads around their neck.  There was a bouquet of pink balloons placed on my desk along with a bag full of strands of pink beads and a gift certificate for a spa treatment of my choice.  My monitors were covered with strands of pink beads.  I could feel the emotion welling up but there was no way I was showing anyone else my breasts.  These people, my friends, had been there with me every day for the past six and a half weeks and now, together, we could celebrate the end.  There was a full sheet cake with pink icing and a large pink ribbon in the middle.  With the help of my husband, mother, aunt, family and friends I had made it through.  Now it is time to heal.

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Congratulations Cheryl Lynch Hosel!

Cheryl is the lucky winner of an autographed copy of my first book Blue Jeans and Stilettos.

Thank all of you for entering my birthday give away contest.

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The way I plan to celebrate is to give away a copy of my first book ‘Blue Jeans and Stilettos’.

For those of you who don’t know, I published my first book along with two of my close
friends, Jordyn Meryl and Magnolia Rivers.

If you would like a chance to win an autographed copy of my book ‘Blue Jeans and
Stilettos’, all you have to do is send me an email containing your name and
email address and HAPPY BIRTHDAY in the subject line.  Email me at cdeanne@cdeannerowe.com.

I will draw one winner on Wednesday, October 12, 2011 and will notify the winner by return
email.  I will autograph a copy of ‘Blue Jeans and Stilettos’ and send it by snail mail.

For those of you who have already purchased a copy of ‘Blue Jeans and Stilettos’, I will
be happy to send you an autographed copy of our Christmas book coming out in
November titled ‘Ms. Claus Wears Stilettos’.

So send me your email and cross your fingers.  I’m sure you will enjoy the read.

Happy Birthday to me!

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I have always had the dream of becoming a published author.  I realized that dream on May 11, 2011 when I received a proof of my first book which is an anthology with two writing friends titled ‘Blue Jeans and Stilettos’.  On June 23, 2011 Writers of the Lake held a book launch to celebrate our book.  The three of us, Magnolia Rivers, Jordyn Meryl and myself planned the celebration.  We rented the Thoreau Center, a wonderful older home which has room enough to hold a party like what we had planned.  We ordered a cake which turned out to be gorgeous.

  We had a centerpiece made to match the theme of our book.

  We planned to give away beautiful jeweled stilettos key chains with the first 100 books we sold.  We wanted everything to be tasteful and perfect.  We sent out invitations to everyone we knew, posted the event on Facebook sending out invitations to all of the people we are friends with.  We talked about our celebration at all of our writing groups and made sure everyone knew we wanted them to come.  Between the three of us we expected a nice crowd, enough people to help us celebrate a very special event. 

The two days prior to our book launch had been spent preparing for this event.  Having our hair and nails done, our makeup carefully applied the day of so we would look our very best.  Donning our blue jeans and stilettos, the theme of the party, the three of us planned to greet our guests, provide them with punch and snacks, hold a question and answer session so the attendees could ask us what burning questions were on their minds.  We were thinking it would be a nice, tastefully done celebration in which everyone who wished could purchase a copy of our book, we would willing autograph for them, taking a few minutes to thank them and they would go home with our new book to read immediately or  place on their ‘to be read’ list.  This would be the perfect book launch.

Well, we couldn’t have asked for a more perfect book launch even if it was not at all what we expected.  People began showing up at least one hour before the launch was to begin.  We hurriedly set up the tables for the refreshments, readied the room for our guests and began signing books.  We signed one after another, after another, after another.  At one time during the evening, every room in the Thoreau Center was full of people sitting, talking and enjoying the ambiance of their surroundings and a special evening. 

We took a break from signing at 7:30 to hold a short question and answer session.  There was standing room only.  When we looked out into the room, there were people everywhere.  Friends, acquaintances, co-workers and people we hadn’t seen in a few years.  People whose lives we have crossed at one time or another.  People who were there to show us support for what we were doing, People who made us feel special, important and gave us what I considered a once in a lifetime, memory making night. 

I can never repay the wonderful feelings, the compliments, the praise and adoration I felt from everyone in the room.  I will forever be grateful to these people, who for one night, made a dream of mine come true.  It was such a wonderful feeling and a night I will never forget.  All I can say is ‘Thank you’ over and over again.  I know I can never repay what was given to myself and my friends that night.  I can only hope in the future for some struggling, first-time author I can pay it forward.

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But, in my new position as President, I’m wondering exactly what I have gotten myself into.  Each time I emailed the former President I received a reply which contained ROFLMFAO.  I’m not quite sure how to take those responses.  Anyway, I managed to survive.  I prepared my agenda and stuck to it.  I covered all the bases we needed to cover.  We even had a first time visitor, Mary.  She insured us she would like to come back to another meeting.  I thought that was a sign I had done a good job leading the group.  I received a few pats on the back and a few ‘great job’ which made me feel better about my abilities to lead our group. 

Now the first meeting is behind me it’s time to start preparing for the February meeting of Two Rivers Romance Authors.  I’ve already started my agenda for the meeting.  We have a great program lined up.  Author Francesca Hawley will discuss “The Long and Short of It” writing novels and novellas.  Everyone is looking forward to this discussion. 

I guess it won’t be so bad and I’ll give the Presidency another try next month.  After I polish my gavel  

and come up with a reply to ROFLMFAO.  Any suggestions?

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One of those, I was reminded by my writing friend Malynda McCarrick, was to blog.  It was pointed out to me that I haven’t blogged since October.  It wasn’t due to lack of subjects.  But, how many blogs can you write about the ridiculous crowds at the mall, surviving the line of little kids at the Mall to take pictures with Santa or watching my credit cards melt in front of me from overuse.  That’s not the Christmas spirit.

I was reminded this year exactly what the Christmas spirit was.  It’s not shopping until you drop trying to find that perfect present at the Mall.  It’s not shopping the after-Christmas sales so you’ll have a jump on next year.  The Christmas Spirit is giving a gift from one heart to another.  It’s a gift that transcends generations and can’t be measured monetarily.  The Christmas spirit is nothing more than love, pure and simple.  My friend, Judy was presented such a gift by her daughter, Krissy, this year.  Judy had lost track of her mother’s ashes and because of riffs in the family she had given up hope of fulfilling her mother’s last wish.  Krissy broke through the years of lack of communication, tracked down the ashes and presented them to my friend for Christmas.  Now she can fulfill her mother’s last wish of having her ashes spread over her first husband’s grave.  I feel a road trip coming on. 

I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas filled with the Christmas spirit.  If not, next year do your best to make it happen.  Give someone the gift of your time, tell someone you’re sorry, visit someone you haven’t seen in a long time, give someone a long overdue hug.  Reach inside your heart and give yourself to another.  You have nothing to lose and everything to gain. 

HAPPY NEW YEAR!  MAY ALL YOUR DREAMS COME TRUE IN  2011!

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This song sung by Lee Ann Womack sums up exactly how you should embrace life with everything you’ve got and then Dance.

I hope you never lose your sense of wonder,
You get your fill to eat but always keep that hunger,
May you never take one single breath for granted,
God forbid love ever leave you empty handed,

I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean,
Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens,
Promise me that you’ll give faith a fighting chance,
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance.

I hope you dance….I hope you dance.

I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance,
Never settle for the path of least resistance
Livin’ might mean takin’ chances but they’re worth takin’,
Lovin’ might be a mistake but it’s worth makin’,

Don’t let some hell bent heart leave you bitter,
When you come close to sellin’ out reconsider,
Give the heavens above more than just a passing glance,
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance.

I hope you dance….I hope you dance.
I hope you dance….I hope you dance.

Time is a wheel in constant motion always rolling us along,
Tell me who wants to look back on their years and wonder
Where those years have gone.

I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean,
Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens,
Promise me that you’ll give faith a fighting chance,
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance.

Dance….I hope you dance.

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Available at Smashwords.com

http://smashwords.com/books/view/21231

And at Amazon.com

http://www.amazon.com/Ghosts-Gunman-Grinning-Cat-ebook/dp/B0041G6L0M/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&m=AG56TWVU5XWC2&s=digital-text&qid=1283472342&sr=8-

“Ghosts, Gunman and the Grinning Cat”                     

 It’s a matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time when hotel owner, Danielle Jacobs, becomes the target of an obsessed killer. With the Holidays approaching, all Danielle wants to focus on is booking rooms and entertaining her guests, she doesn’t have the time or patience for the bad guy who seems determined to piss her off with his clumsy mischief.

When the mischief turns deadly, Danielle’s odd bunch of protectors come to her defense including her employee and Goth best friend, Roxie, and the not-so-dead-and-buried former hotel residents.

Though the days are heating up with repeated attempts on her life, the nights take on a sizzle of their own. A new guest has checked in and Danielle is having trouble concentrating on hotel business when the handsome stranger is determined to make her his business.

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I have always heard people say “Stop and smell the roses.”  My grandparents and parents taught me to think of others first, give everyone the benefit of the doubt, all the good Christian sayings which would make our lives easier and guarantee us a place in Heaven.  Well, I might have just lost my place in line last week.  It began with me doing a good gesture by stopping by the grocery store and picking up a few things for dinner.  Just FYI, I don’t do grocery stores well.  I make a list and send my husband.  People are in such a hurry and never seem to allow themselves enough time to take care of what they need to while they are there.  Plus, there are always the women who bring their screaming kids who need to be home taking a nap instead of grocery shopping.  Anyway, I found what I needed and made my way to the register.  I recognized a friend of mine who happened to be working in a checkout lane which only had one person ahead of me.  I thought I had stumbled upon a welcome opportunity to catch up with my friend and make a so far pleasant grocery shopping experience nicer.  Was I wrong.  My space was suddenly invaded by a good-mood-sucking, type A personality shopper.  My pleasant experience turned into a battle to see who was going to survive this and come out the winner. 

I finished my time with my checker and friend as she rang up the total for my purchases.  I ran my debit card, we continue to chat and all the time I could feel feet tapping the floor in hopes I would speed up my transaction. Wrong.  I continued to talk and watched as my groceries were bagged and handed to me.  I politely moved to the end of the register and continued my conversation which was rudely interrupted by a squeaking, high pitched sound “I need two rain checks.”  After my body stopped shivering from what sounded like fingernails on a chalkboard, I continued to listen to my friend talk about the joys of being a grandmother as she filled out the rain checks for this space-invading person.   My body received a second round of fingernails on the chalkboard when she opened her mouth again.  “Ladies, would you hurry up.  I have people waiting for me.”  Well, she just grated on my last nerve.  I took a deep breath then continued my conversation with my friend.  I was proud of myself for completely ignoring this rude and obnoxious person thinking her life was somehow more important than ours.  I promised my friend I would stay in touch.  I gave her my new address, a hug and walked out of the store.  I fought back my better instincts to grab this person’s basket and give it a push, hopefully, knocking her to the floor.  I also resisted my instincts to say something very rude to her about her over-bearing personality.  What I did do was heed some of my grandparents and parents advice by taking a deep breath and a good look at her face.  Why you ask?   Because I’m positive soon, one of these days, I’ll open the paper and in the obituary section she will be there.  Her type A personality is going to send her to an early grave.  It will make her blood pressure rise.  She is going to have a stroke or a heart attack or a body-invading disease is going to take control of her because she doesn’t have the attitude to fight it off.  My friend and I, on the other hand, who managed to upset her entire routine, are going to spend many years enjoying our grandchildren and smelling the roses.

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One piece of feedback I wanted to receive from any of the judges was the fact I didn’t suck as a writer.  I didn’t expect any of the judges to say exactly those words.  I’m sure the wording they would have used would have been a little more tactful.  I did want one of them to use the word talent in their feedback, just once.  That’s not too much to ask.  Give me something to hang on to so I know all of the work, sweat, effort, time and money I have put into trying to become a published author isn’t in vain.  I will actually have a shot at seeing my name in print.  I am happy to report I received that one word I was looking for.  I was told they see a talent in me.  Somehow that judge, J104, who read the first three chapters of my story, could see a talent in me.  This judge has become my new best friend and I don’t even know their name.  I have taken those words and etched them in my memory.  

Your friends and family can tell you they like your story.  They can tell you they love your story.  But there is something impartial, something empowering about a total stranger whose job it was to read those first three chapters, judge it and give you honest, constructive feedback and they tell you they see a talent in you.  My desire to write has been renewed.  I look forward to rewriting my story and making changes the judges felt where needed.  I will take to heart the examples and suggestions given me and learn from them.  When I am finished and feel my story is the best it can possibly be, I will hopefully find an agent, publish my story and it will be your turn to critique.  I can’t wait for you to read it.

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