Darlene's Digest

“Watermelon!” Jack said. “I don’t believe I have had any yet this season.” “What is it?” Sophia said, and the Reavers and Jack stared at her. “You ain’t never had watermelon?” Tom piped up. “No. It is a melon? But how do you eat it?” she said, eyeing the large chunks of fruit. “Show the lady, Tom.” Martha laughed. Tom grabbed a chunk off the middle of the plate and dived in headfirst, snapping off a sizable piece, chewing it with delight, and then spitting the seeds out the door. “You are joking,” Sophia said to Jack. “No, that’s how you eat watermelon. You learn this and soon you will be a real Floridian.” He was grinning at her and reached for his own slice of melon, and never one to resist a challenge, Sophia wiped her hand on her table linen and picked up her own slice. The juice ran down her fingers but she managed to bring it up to her lips without too much trickling down her sleeve. She took a bite and there was an explosion of sugar in her mouth, and a cooling sensatio...

Early in their journey this morning they passed a burnt-out homestead, its brick chimney all that remained of a family’s dreams. Vines were already encroaching and moving in, but there had been a gardenia bush in bloom near what must have once been the front door, and Sophia paused to snip off a bloom. The lush fragrance filled her senses, but it was also a reminder of the dangers lurking in paradise. -- The Bride and the Buccaneer   In 1774, English naturalist William Bartram wrote of  the Alachua Savannah, a stretch of land now known as Paynes Prairie Preserve State Park : "The extensive Alachua ia a level green plain, above fifteen miles over, fifty miles an circumference, and scarcely a tree or bush of any kind to be seen on at. It is encircled with high, sloping hills, covered with waving forests and a fragrant Orange grove, rising from a exuberantly fertile soil. The towering Magnolia grandiflora and transcendent Palm stand conspicuous among them.. Herds of spright...

“Watermelon!” Jack said. “I don’t believe I have had any yet this season.” “What is it?” Sophia said, and the Reavers and Jack stared at her. “You ain’t never had watermelon?” Tom piped up. “No. It is a melon? But how do you eat it?” she eyed the large chunks of fruit. “Show the lady, Tom.” Martha laughed. Tom grabbed a chunk off the middle of the plate and dived in headfirst, snapping off a sizable piece, chewing it with delight, and then spitting the seeds out the door. “You are joking,” Sophia said to Jack. “No, that’s how you eat watermelon. You learn this and soon you will be a real Floridian.” He was grinning at her and reached for his own slice of melon, and never one to resist a challenge, Sophia wiped her hand on her table linen and picked up her own slice. The juice ran down her fingers but she managed to bring it up to her lips without too much trickling down her sleeve. She took a bite and there was an explosion of sugar in her mouth, and a cooling sensation from th...

We were in Baltimore over Memorial Day, enjoying a relaxing weekend with friends at Balticon51, an area science fiction convention. It was my first visit to the city since Worldcon in '98 when I came down with mono. My memories remain mostly fuzzy about that time period. This time though it was all good. Even though we were there primarily to catch up with good friends (I'd list them all but I'm afraid I might leave someone off--they know who they are), it was also a very enjoyable convention. I volunteered for a Green Room shift, because cons run on volunteer power and as a Green Room manager at numerous Worldcons I knew exactly how important it was to have the room well staffed. However, Manager Eileen did a bang-up job and only needed me for a couple hours, so I was free to hang out and visit with people. I even attended some program items, including a valuable one on how to hand-sell your books. I also took time to see some sights. Baltimore, of course, is a his...

Today I was reading an old history of the early United States Coast Guard and I think I found the MacGuffin for my next novel. You don't know what a MacGuffin is? The Maltese Falcon is probably the best example. In my published novels, the pirate treasure in The Bride and the Buccaneer is a MacGuffin. I was reading about the USCG, actually the early Cutter Service aka the Revenue Marine, because they'd been part of the plot for Smuggler's Bride   and I always wanted to do another Coastie book. So much good material there, especially in Florida history! People ask me what kind of writer I am, a plotter or a "pantser", as in "I write by the seat of my pants." I'm a "pantser", though I prefer Nora Roberts' more elegant term, an "organic writer". I start writing and see where the story takes me. Once I start the "what if?" process, my brain cranks up and I find myself filling in gaps or raising questions at odd mom...

“A sail, Cap’n! Three points off the starboard bow!” Jack shaded his eyes and he could see it now, a schooner rigged fore-and-aft. This wasn’t a good sign, since schooners were the favored vessels of— “Pirates!” the lookout yelled. “It’s the Zephyr !” “Damnation,” Jack said to himself. It would be just his luck that out of all the pirates in the Caribbean, his ship would come across the Zephyr . The schooner was also flying Cartagenan colors. No doubt the Zephyr carried a letter of marque from the fledgling republic, full of official seals and ribbons, and about as meaningful as a parrot’s chatter. Jack knew this since he had a similar letter of marque. “Cap’n, he’s signaling he wants to parley,” the lookout called. The Zephyr’s gunports were closed, and she looked innocent enough. Plus they had the advantage of the wind while the Jade was on a lee shore. “Haul back, Mr. Rice. We shall see what Captain Sinister wants.” “That pirate’s name is Captain Sinister ? What kind of a name i...

“Watermelon!” Jack said. “I don’t believe I have had any yet this season.” “What is it?” Sophia said, and the Reavers and Jack stared at her. “You ain’t never had watermelon?” Tom piped up. “No. It is a melon? But how do you eat it?” she said, eyeing the large chunks of fruit. “Show the lady, Tom.” Martha laughed. Tom grabbed a chunk off the middle of the plate and dived in headfirst, snapping off a sizable piece, chewing it with delight, and then spitting the seeds out the door. “You are joking,” Sophia said to Jack. “No, that’s how you eat watermelon. You learn this and soon you will be a real Floridian.” He was grinning at her and reached for his own slice of melon, and never one to resist a challenge, Sophia wiped her hand on her table linen and picked up her own slice. The juice ran down her fingers but she managed to bring it up to her lips without too much trickling down her sleeve. She took a bite and there was an explosion of sugar in her mouth, and a cooling sensation from t...

I did post a few items yesterday in honor of the day, but I didn't post any snippets about true love from my own novels. Here's one of my favorite romantic sentiments:  "And if they didn’t live happily ever after for every single day of the rest of their lives, it must be acknowledged that at least she never shot him while he was sleeping."   -- The Bride and the Buccaneer (winner, FCRW Beacon Award)

St. Augustine was a cosmopolitan piece of Europe bordering the new United States. With Florida tossed like a shuttlecock between Spain and England, the Americans were poised to seize the territory of East Florida and shore up their coastline, eliminating the foreign threats from their southern shores. “See? A perfectly respectable establishment,” Jack said when he ushered Sophia into Captain Roberts’s home on St. George Street. The two-story house had a stuccoed lower floor, its creamy walls reflecting the afternoon sun, and a wooden second story with a balcony. It did indeed look like the abode of a prosperous sea captain, neatly maintained if sparsely furnished. There were no pictures on the wall, none of the little touches making a house a home. --The Bride and the Buccaneer I modeled Captain Roberts's house ( Captain Sinister's Lady ; The Bride and the Buccaneer ) on the Ximenez-Fatio House Museum on Aviles Street in St. Augustine, Florida. I "relocat...

“We have to stop, it’s going to rain.” “We cannot stop yet, Jack, there is still daylight!” “Sophia, I am not going to stand here and get soaked—” His sentence was punctuated with the plop! of a large drop of water at his feet. A moment later one hit Sophia on the nose, and then in the next instant while she looked at Jack, the sky opened and the squall came down in torrents, soaking them where they stood. -- The Bride and the Buccaneer My favorite room in the house is the screen porch. I eat lunch out there almost every day, even when it's 95F and 99% humidity, like today. It's not so bad if you don't move around much. Then there are the daily storms. You know it's summer in Florida when almost every day between 2 and 6 p.m. there's a short thunderstorm. It comes up quickly, and can blow through just as quick. I've seen rain fall on one side of the street, and sunshine on the other side. It's weird, but you get used to it and plan your outdoor excursi...

Ahoy, Jacksonville and First Coast Florida! I'll be signing books, including Readers' Choice winner  The Pirate's Secret Baby ,  on Friday, May 15 from 11:30 a.m. to 2:30 p.m. at San Marco Books and More , 1971 San Marco Blvd., Jacksonville, FL. The San Marco area is a great place to stop for lunch and browsing, and the booksigning is an opportunity to stock up on your summer beach reading. You know you need more pirates (and happy endings) in your life, so drop on by. I'll also have copies of First Coast Romance Writers Beacon Award winner The Bride and the Buccaneer , my North Florida "road" book. There's nothing I enjoy more than putting the top down on the convertible, driving to bookstores and meeting new people. Tell your friends, and I'll see you there!

The tables of the supper room groaned beneath haunches of venison, pork pastries, shrimp, and fresh mullet. The rice and corn were from nearby farms, and the squashes and vegetables were seasoned with the hot peppers the locals loved. -- The Bride and the Buccaneer   I've been holding steady on my "Eat Local Challenge", managing to eat something local at every meal until this past Memorial Day Weekend. We went to St. Augustine for a friend's wedding (lovely and romantic) and enjoyed some great food. I couldn't be positive I ate local at every meal, like I have at home in May, but I made an effort to patronize local independent food vendors when I wasn't at the wedding festivities. It helped that our hotel was smack dab in the Old City.  I had grouper tacos for lunch, coffee from a small independent shop (locally owned), and I nixed the offer of ice cream from a major chain in favor of a delicious fresh fruit pop from a local vendor. So I feel like...

“You ain’t never had watermelon?” Tom piped up. “No. It is a melon? But how do you eat it?” she said, eyeing the large chunks of fruit. “Show the lady, Tom.” Martha laughed. Tom grabbed a chunk off the middle of the plate and dived in headfirst, snapping off a sizable piece, chewing it with delight, and then spitting the seeds out the door. “You are joking,” Sophia said to Jack. “No, that’s how you eat watermelon. You learn this and soon you will be a real Floridian.” He was grinning at her and reached for his own slice of melon, and never one to resist a challenge, Sophia wiped her hand on her table linen and picked up her own slice. The juice ran down her fingers but she managed to bring it up to her lips without too much trickling down her sleeve. She took a bite and there was an explosion of sugar in her mouth, and a cooling sensation from the juicy fruit. “Oooh,” she moaned when she caught her breath, “this is wonderful!” The Reavers laughed at her response, ...

Katie’s babbling finally wound down and she fell asleep on Sophia’s lap, and Martha picked the toddler up and put her in her cot. Sophia stood and stretched legs gone numb, then went out to their mules to fetch what she’d brought for her hostess. “Well, I declare,” Martha said, turning the china teacup decorated with blue flowers over in her hands. “I brought one for Katie, too, for you ladies to use when she’s older. Sometimes it is nice to have something pretty and special that is just for mothers and daughters.” Martha blinked rapidly, then cleared her throat. “You are a thoughtful lady, Mrs. Burrell. I will keep these cups for me and Katie, and when we use them, we’ll think of you.” --The Bride and the Buccaneer Here's to all the mothers who have tea parties with their sons and daughters and who get to celebrate their special day today.  I still haven't received the diamond tiara I earned for all those years of wiping snotty noses, hugging messy people and...

Thunder rumbled to the west and a breeze sprang up, whipping the tree branches. Sophia paused to let the cooler air flow across her. “We have to stop, it’s going to rain.” “We cannot stop yet, Jack, there is still daylight!” “Sophia, I am not going to stand here and get soaked—” His sentence was punctuated with the plop! of a large drop of water at his feet. A moment later one hit Sophia on the nose, and then in the next instant while she looked at Jack, the sky opened and the squall came down in torrents, soaking them where they stood. Sophia turned to run for the less than adequate shelter of their lean-to. Jack grabbed her hand and raised his voice over the pounding of the water falling on them. “Wait!” “Why?” she yelled back, blinking rain out of her eyes. “’Cause it feels good,” he said with a soggy grin. -- The Bride and the Buccaneer I love sitting on the back porch when a storm's coming up. The wind begins to whip around, the temperature drops to tole...

The Bride and the Buccaneer wins Beacon Award! The Beacon is awarded by FCRW, the First Coast Romance Writers. I won in the historicals category. This Monday is off to a good start.

Image via Wikipedia "She remembered well the boisterous celebration in the city’s streets when news arrived that the Shannon had defeated the Chesapeake . After a string of Royal Navy defeats at the hands of the Americans—the Americans , of all upstart nations!— Captain Broke’s victory put wind back in the sails of the despondent English."-- The Bride and the Buccaneer From The Royal Navy Sail and Steam Yahoo group:  "HMS Shannon captures USS Chesapeake - 1813 Tuesday June 1, 2010 Location: Just outside Boston Harbor Notes: HMS Shannon (38), under Capt. Philip Broke, defeats and captures the USS Chesapeake (36) commanded by Capt. James Lawrence. In a battle lasting only 13 minutes, Capt. Lawrence was killed in action. His last command to his crew was "Don't give up the ship!". They were, however, unable to honour the order, and were forced to surrender". We had the last laugh.  We're still here.

If you missed me on "Conner Calling" this past Friday you can still listen to the show, online, here . I love the Internet!

Radio Daze Reminder! Listen for me at 1 p.m. EDT on "Conner Calling" on Friday, and you can catch the show on streaming audio here. It's WUFT/WJUF's phone-in/email-in talk show about books and authors. The North Florida NPR station reaches from Lake City down to nearly the middle of the state, so you can hear me live or on your computer. We'll be talking about The Bride and the Buccaneer , ebooks, Florida history and more, so tune in!

Image via Wikipedia Reflections on Wedded Bliss I celebrated my 34th wedding anniversary this week. We went out to supper the night before with friends, exchanged gifts (he got cufflinks, I got a lovely peridot ring), and our plans to watch a movie and open up that special bottle of whisky morphed into watching ice dancing and drinking herbal tea, but hey, we're old. It got me thinking though. One of the remarks I hear about my heroes is that they're "nice". Sometimes I hear they're too nice. One faithful reader said she loved Jack Burrell from The Bride and the Buccaneer because he's my "sweetest hero yet", a description that would annoy Jack greatly and cause him to scowl ferociously. He sees himself as a fierce privateer, the scourge of Caribbean shipping. He is that fierce privateer. But he's also the hero. And I can't write a hero without looking at him critically and asking myself, "Could I marry him?" My perception...