Erica Lucke Dean

"Making the world a better place, one book at a time."

Win a Kindle Fire

Kindle the flames of summer magic! 

Red Adept Publishing's hottest Urban Fantasy authors have joined together to give away a Kindle Fire, loaded with copies of their hottest books.

Enter to win! 

Copyright © 2000-2016, Erica Lucke Dean. All rights reserved. Any retranscription or reproduction is prohibited and illegal.

Upcoming Events

May 21, 2016 - Five author panel and book signing at the Cameron Village Library in Raleigh, NC. hosted by Red Adept Publishing. For more info click HERE. I'll be answering questions and signing copies of Suddenly Spellbound, Suddenly Sorceress, To Katie With Love, Ashes of Life, Splintered Souls, and Craving Caine. Supplies are limited, so get there early! 

Copyright © 2000-2016, Erica Lucke Dean. All rights reserved. Any retranscription or reproduction is prohibited and illegal.

Suddenly Spellbound reviewed by Publisher's Weekly!

Just a month after it's release, Suddenly Spellbound got a great new review from the wildly popular Publisher's Weekly. It's an honor just to be chosen for a review, but to get a nice write up is even better. Now that the review has been posted, paperbacks should be available soon! 

Copyright © 2000-2016, Erica Lucke Dean. All rights reserved. Any retranscription or reproduction is prohibited and illegal.

finding the rainbow

I don't write reviews. I just don't. I gush over books I liked. And ignore the ones I didn't. But write a thoughtful review about a book? Never. So I totally won't be doing that now. But what I will do is gush. Because Finding the Rainbow is one of those gush worthy books. 

First of all, the author, Traci Borum (a fellow Red Adept author) is a Jane Austen fan. How do I know this? Because you'll find more than one reference to Emma in Finding The Rainbow. And okay, Emma may not be my favorite Jane Austen novel (Hello, Mr. Darcy?) but it's definitely a close second. The other reason I loved this book has to do with the warm fuzzies it brings. It's a book about family, and love, and well, you'll just have to read it for yourself to find out. But do yourself a favor first, and pick up the first book in the series, Painting the Moon. You won't be disappointed. If you have Kindle Select, you can even get it for free.

Gush over. Let the teasers begin. :)

Holly Newbury’s life is on hold in the cozy English village of Chilton Crosse. While her friends are marrying, having children, and embarking on successful careers, Holly is raising her three younger sisters and working part time at the village art gallery. Her life feels incomplete, but family is more important to her than anything. Then a film crew’s arrival galvanizes the community, and Holly becomes fast friends with Fletcher Hays, the movie’s love-shy American writer.

The production of an Emma film isn’t the only drama in town, though. Their father makes a choice that threatens everything she gave up her dreams for. Holly’s sisters endure growing pains. And Fletcher plans to return to America as soon as filming is over, ruining any chance of their relationship blossoming further. After years of sacrificing for others, Holly must find the courage to take a risk on a future she never dared to expect. 

Here are the links where Finding the Rainbow is available:



Barnes & Noble:





Traci Borum is a writing teacher and native Texan. She’s also an avid reader of women’s fiction, most especially Elin Hilderbrand and Rosamunde Pilcher novels. Since the age of 12, she’s written poetry, short stories, magazine articles, and novels.

Traci also adores all things British. She even owns a British dog (Corgi) and is completely addicted to Masterpiece Theater–must be all those dreamy accents! Aside from having big dreams of getting a book published, it’s the little things that make her the happiest: deep talks with friends, a strong cup of hot chocolate, a hearty game of fetch with her Corgi, and puffy white Texas clouds always reminding her to “look up, slow down, enjoy your life.”

Hey, wanna win some cool prizes? Then enter the giveaway here!

Copyright © 2000-2016, Erica Lucke Dean. All rights reserved. Any retranscription or reproduction is prohibited and illegal.

just another crazy author

What does it really mean to be crazy?

When Kelly Stone Gamble challenged me to write a post about the craziest thing I’d ever done, I wasn’t sure I could pull it off. I mean I've done lots of stupid things, but crazy? I just wasn’t sure if I’d ever done anything that was actually crazy. And then I had to ask myself, what is crazy? What does that really mean? And who gets to define it? I mean, sure, whacking someone over the head with a shovel sounds pretty crazy, but hey, maybe he deserved it, right? So how could I possibly decide what moments fell under crazy versus what was just plain stupid? 

Copyright © 2000-2016, Erica Lucke Dean. All rights reserved. Any retranscription or reproduction is prohibited and illegal.

talking firsts with Cabrina Claire

Cinnabar Silk author, Cabrina Claire has just released her debut novella, Turn Me, so I invited her to come talk about firsts. 

That first kiss. That new car. That first day of college. Those first apartment keys. That first puppy. Firsts are precious to us. They’re unique, new and scary, and full of promise. When we experience something new, it’s a step down a new path.

The fun part (we hope) comes when we get around to wondering what the end of that path will be like. If you’ve never been down the road, you can’t really know what’s at the end. You can hope. You can guess. You can wish upon a star. You can work your butt off. But the future is unwritten, and we just never know for sure until we get to the end.

You know that feeling when you pick up a new book, and you read the first couple of chapters and fall totally in love with it? That ecstatic feeling of anticipating something awesome is amazeballs. Who knows what that book will hold? How exactly will it blow your mind and exceed your expectations? You don’t know! But you’re drooling to find out, so you don’t put that thing down even for meals, because you want that feeling to last forever.

Beginnings are hope. Beginnings are anticipation. They’re thrilling and flush with promise. Everything is possible at the beginning. It’s why we keep trying new things. It’s why we keep cracking open new books. It’s why we love to fall in love.

Cabrina's new book isn't for the faint of heart. It's a hot steamy romance from Cinnabar Silk and you can find it here:


Barnes & Noble






 Cinnabar Silk

Copyright © 2000-2016, Erica Lucke Dean. All rights reserved. Any retranscription or reproduction is prohibited and illegal.

indiana jones and the bloat of doom

Those of you who follow me on Twitter or Facebook know that I nearly lost my beloved English Mastiff Indiana Jones from bloat with gastric torsion last week. But thanks to my paranoid fixation with the condition, I knew exactly what was happening to him and badgered my husband until he helped me load Indy into the car and drive him to the emergency vet in the middle of the night. We’ve been told our prompt action is what saved him.

Oh, and the ridiculously expensive surgery wherein Indy lost his spleen, but not his life.

Indy survived the multi-hour procedure, and when the vet came out to tell me how well he did, he said they were bringing Indy out of the anesthesia, and he’d be able to walk to the car so we could transport him to the regular vet (since the ER closes during the daylight hours.)

Now, I’ve had this dog since he was ten weeks old. And I know how much he likes to sleep. And despite my warning that Mastiffs are notoriously sensitive to all forms of anesthesia and sedation, they truly believed he’d wake up quickly like all the other dogs they’d done this surgery on.

Right. Not so much.

Two hours after the vet told me they were removing Indy from the deep sleep, he was still out cold. They finally extubated him to breathe on his own, but he refused to wake up. (Since my boy had survived the surgery, I felt good enough to gloat, just a little.) I reminded the vet that I’d warned him about the sedation/anesthesia. And he just made that grumbly sound doctors make. Another hour later, he conceded that maybe… just maybe, mind you… I knew what I was talking about. But since the ER closed several hours earlier, we had no choice but to transport an unconscious dog. In the back of my Kia.

Did I mention my dog weighs 180lbs? And he was totally and completely unconscious.

So they rolled him out of the back on the shiny steel gurney, wrapped in a lovely floral comforter so he wouldn’t get cold since we’d had major snowstorm just the day before, and snoring like a freaking chainsaw. (Best sound ever, after the scare we had.)  It took four people to load him into the back of my car. We had to back the Kia Soul practically into the ER lobby so they could roll the gurney up to the hatchback and then lift the sleeping giant ever-so-carefully from one flat surface to the next.

But um, Indy was too long to go in sideways. So the vet climbed into the back of my car (with the empty McDonald’s bags from breakfast that morning and the loose hay that had escaped the bail we’d loaded the day before) and eased Indy in, while his tech and my husband worked to pivot the dog’s large body into the space. Then we were off to the regular animal hospital to unload him like a special delivery package.

A few miles down the road and we’d arrived at our destination (they were awaiting our arrival) and they wheeled out a small steel cart about half the size of the ER’s gurney.

Have you ever tried to put a Thanksgiving turkey on a butter dish? Yeah… that.

But four more people later, we managed to get Indy situated at the vet for his overnight stay. Where, I might add, he slept for twenty-four more hours—at least twenty more hours than I slept.

Next time, I’ll tell you what happened when he came home and yours truly had to play Florence Barkingale. 

If you'd like to donate to Indy's vet fund, please click here. And thank you! :)

Copyright © 2000-2016, Erica Lucke Dean. All rights reserved. Any retranscription or reproduction is prohibited and illegal.

polarity in motion (a guest post)

Please welcome fellow Red Adept Publishing author, Brenda Vicars. In honor of Brenda's new book, Polarity in Motion, she tackles a hot topic on my blog today. 

My friend Ann and I met for coffee the day I received the proof copy of POLARITY IN MOTION. Naturally, I had the book in my purse, and before our lattes hit the table, I proudly whipped out my first published novel. 

“Oh,” Ann said with a surprised expression as she took in the cover. “The boy and girl are uh…interracial?”  She made this statement sound like a question, and she flipped the book over to read the back cover.  I stayed silent, sipped, and gave her time to read the blurb, which, by the way, says nothing about race.

After she finished reading, she seemed off balance, as if unsure how to ask her unspoken question: Why an interracial couple?  The next half hour we probed the reason that question is asked, and why it’s hard to answer.

We talked about our own children and how the stories they love are full of characters who, like our kids, are white. It’s easy to keep our adolescents supplied with a rich flow of books—coming of age, mystery, romance, and science fiction. But when I was a public high school English teacher, I found myself entrusted with classrooms full of diverse students.  And when I took my classes to the library, most of the choices on the shelves were about white young adults.  How were my students to feel connected to literature when their race was virtually omitted from novels?  And what message did the omission send?

So why did I include an interracial couple in Polarity in Motion?  Because lots of students come from mixed race families, and lots of teens are or will be in interracial relationships. Thankfully, young adult literature is expanding, and diversity is more frequently represented.  But we still have a long way to go.

“You know,” Ann said as we left the coffee shop. “If the two hands on the cover had both been white, I wouldn’t have said, ‘The boy and girl are uh…both white?’”


Buy links and Rafflecopter below.


Copyright © 2000-2016, Erica Lucke Dean. All rights reserved. Any retranscription or reproduction is prohibited and illegal.

book spotlight - fallen angels of karnataka

The-Fallen-Angels-of-Karnataka-3 Enjoy Happy Geek Media’s debut virtual tour of The Fallen Angels of Karnataka[/caption] The-Fallen-Angels-of-Karnataka-1

The-Fallen-Angels-of-Karnataka-2The Fallen Angels of Karnataka by:

Hans M. Hirschi

Published by:

Yaree AB

Genres: Romance, Contemporary, LGBT, Social Awareness, Literary, Travel

264 pages

Release Date: September 15, 2014

The-Fallen-Angels-of-Karnataka-1 In an isolated mountain town in Norway, Haakon dreams of traveling the world, pursuing adventure, seeing great cities, finding love. His very first trip to London with friends from university offers much promise, yet soon after tragedy strikes. Still young, and mourning the loss of his lover, Haakon is not ready to give up on his dream, so when a rich Englishman offers him the chance to join him on a tour of the world, Haakon takes it, daring to believe that his dream is finally coming true...but at what price? The Fallen Angels of Karnataka is a novel filled with adventure, life's hard-learned lessons, loss, despicable evil, and finally, love and redemption. See what others are saying about The Fallen Angels of Karnataka on the author's media page here. The-Fallen-Angels-of-Karnataka-1 The-Fallen-Angels-of-Karnataka-1 The-Fallen-Angels-of-Karnataka-7


The Fallen Angels of Karnataka is discounted to $5.99 right now, so grab a copy. The novel will not disappoint!

The-Fallen-Angels-of-Karnataka-1 The-Fallen-Angels-of-Karnataka Follow the tour schedule here The-Fallen-Angels-of-Karnataka-1 The-Fallen-Angels-of-Karnataka-4 [caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="268"]author-hans-hirschi Author Hans M. Hirschi[/caption]

Hans M Hirschi (b. 1967) has been writing stories ever since he was a child. Adulthood and the demands of corporate life efficiently put an end to his fictional writing for over twenty years.

A global executive in training and channel development, Hans has traveled the world and had previously published non-fictional titles.

The birth of his son and the subsequent parental leave provided him with the opportunity to unleash his creative writing once again. With little influence over his brain’s creative workings, he indulges it, going with the flow.

A deeply rooted passion for, faith in a better world, in love, tolerance and diversity are a red thread throughout both his creative and non-fictional work. His novels might best be described as “literary romance, engaging characters and relevant stories that won’t leave you untouched, but hopeful.”

Hans is a proud member of the Swedish Writers’ Union, the Writers’ Center in Sweden and serves as chair of the Swedish Federation of Self- & Independent Publishers.

The-Fallen-Angels-of-Karnataka-Tour The-Fallen-Angels-of-Karnataka-1 The-Fallen-Angels-of-Karnataka-6 The-Fallen-Angels-of-Karnataka-1 Good luck and happy reading and winning! Tour Hosted by... Happy-Geek-Media
Copyright © 2000-2016, Erica Lucke Dean. All rights reserved. Any retranscription or reproduction is prohibited and illegal.

book spotlight - the next day

[caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="640"]The-Next-Day-Tour-Banner Enjoy Happy Geek Media's Debut of The Next Day[/caption] The-Next-Day-divider The-Next-Day-About-the-Book [caption id="" align="alignright" width="420"]The-Next-Day-Book-stack Author Milt Mays The Next Day[/caption]

The Next Day by: Milt Mays

Genres: Thriller, Paranormal, sci-fi

395 Pages

Release date: November 10, 2014

***** Top secret bio-warfare after 9/11 changes an American geneticist and an Iraqi jihadist into the next evolution of man, one evil and one good, and their end game will decide the fate of the human race. Alex Smith, an adventure seeking American geneticist, remembers 9/11 with crystal clarity. A girlfriend was incinerated at the Twin Towers at the same time he was infected by a lethal virus he genetically modified in an illegal, U.S. bio-warfare facility in the Amazon jungle. Then he changes, physically and psychologically, into a creature he hates and must learn to control before he loses his work, his new love, and his life and country. Jabril El Fahd’s Iraqi mother, a nurse, dies in his arms, killed by the American embargo. His dreams of being a doctor are consumed in the fires of revenge and hate. He becomes a jihadist, Osama bin Laden’s right-hand man, and comes up with a plan to not just cripple, but destroy the United States. Infecting himself with a deadly virus to wipe out the American infidels, he changes into a monstrous creature he loves, and becomes more powerful with every hateful and lustful thought. Nothing stands in his way. Nothing except Alex. The-Next-Day-divider



The-Next-Day-Follow-the-Tour Nov 24 Like a Bump on a Blog Kick-off post

Nov 25th Work Money Fun Spotlight

Nov 26th Unorthodox Blog Spotlight

Nov 28th Erica Lucke Dean Spotlight

Dec 1st John Lindholm Spotlight & Excerpt

Dec 2nd Ciara Ballintyne Spotlight

Dec 3rd Homeless Chronicles in Tampa Spotlight/Possible review

Dec 4th Publishing Push Spotlight

Dec 5th Write as Raine Spotlight & 5 Facts

Dec 8th John Lindholm Review

Dec 9th Terri's Little Haven Spotlight

Dec 10th Becca Hamilton Books Spotlight

Dec 11th McClellan Books Spotlight

Dec 12th KP's Book Nook Review

Dec 15th Fever of a Lava Mama Spotlight

Dec 16th Chrystan's Thoughts Review

Dec 17th Desafio in the City Spotlight & Excerpt

Dec 18th Momma D Saves Spotlight/Review

Dec 19th eBookBuilders Spotlight

Dec 19th Like a Bump on a Blog Review

Dec 22nd Happy Geek Media Spotlight Q&A

The-Next-Day-divider The-Next-Day-about-the-author [caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="240"]Author Milt Mays Author Milt Mays[/caption]

Milt grew up in Colorado, then spent most of his adult life as a Navy doctor. After graduating from the Naval Academy and medical school, he traveled all over the world with the Navy, the Marines, and a Navy Security Group, finally coming back to rest in Colorado. He’s worked as a fly fishing guide and currently is a primary care doctor for the VA.

Other published works by Milt include the novels The Guide and Dan’s War and the short stories “Thanksgiving with Riley” and “The Dry-Land Farmer.” He lives with his wife in Colorado.

Visit his website to find out more about him.





Tour hosted by...

Copyright © 2000-2016, Erica Lucke Dean. All rights reserved. Any retranscription or reproduction is prohibited and illegal.

they call her crazy

Cowboy Kelly.jpg

Okay, I know you're probably wondering where the hell I've been lately. Well, I've been busy. I know, that's a horrible excuse, but it also happens to be true. I'm working on blog posts for the holiday season, so hopefully, I won't get sidetracked again. As for today, we have an extra special guest on the blog. Today's guest is Kelly Stone Gamble, author of They Call Me Crazy. And Kelly's going to tell us how she recently saved a cat...

I recently left the lights of Las Vegas and moved to Idabel, Oklahoma. It's a completely different world, I'd like to say it's slower and calmer, but it isn't. It's just different. It's also very similar to the setting in my novel, They Call Me Crazy, so it's been a very inspirational place to be in while I write the second book. However, it's been a while since I have lived in the country.

I live at the Salt Creek Lodge, a boutique-ish hunting lodge on the outskirts of town. I have a beautiful one bedroom suite, aptly named 'The Birdhouse' and a pet cardinal that pecks on my window in the morning. My backyard is 1800 acres of wooded land with trails for the ATV's that the lodge rents out. In the morning, it is one of the most beautiful places in the world. At night, it can be very creepy.

Last night, I sat on the back porch looking for Bigfoot and in the distance, heard a cat screech. I am a lover of all animals, and I could tell by the sounds that this cat was definitely hurt. I knew the chances of me finding it in the dark, in the woods, were slim, but the longer I listened to his cries, I knew I had to do something.

As I said, this is a hunting lodge, which means there are big animals in the woods. Deer. Wild Boar. Probably a bear or two. There are also smaller creatures that are just as dangerous, or at least mean enough that I don't necessarily want to come in contact with them. A month ago I saw a tarantula that was the size of a Chihuahua. And did I mention the rattlesnakes?

But the cat was crying so loudly, I thought I was going to cry myself. So I grabbed my flashlight and a roll of duct tape (my weapon of choice: duct tape) and headed out into the dark. Of course by the time I got back outside, a light fog had settled over the ground making it look like a Friday the 13th movie set.  And I was following the screams of a cat.

I don't know if there are mountain lions in the woods, I'm not even sure if they live in this area, but I hoped the loud screeching wasn't a hurt monster kitty. Duct tape can fix a lot of things, but even I'm not crazy enough to duct tape a mountain lion. I saw little eyes as I walked toward the trails---an armadillo? a possum? Probably a skunk.

But I kept walking, on a mission to save a hurt cat.

As I walked through the woods, the black trees seemed to envelop me and each branch became a hand, grabbing me, trying to pull me into the darkness. But I trekked on, the sounds getting louder and more desperate.

A hoot owl startled me and I backed up too quickly and fell over a tangle of dying limbs only to find myself in a small clearing, face to face with the dying cat. But it wasn't a cat.

It was actually two cats

And they weren't dying.                                    

Yes, it's been a long time since I've lived in the country.

OMG! You don't have to tell the president of "team naughty" what those cats were doing. Yikes! Talk about your kitty porn. Thanks for stopping by, Kelly. Sheesh, they don't call her crazy for nothing!

If you haven't gotten your copy of Kelly's new book yet, what are you waiting for?

Available on Amazon as well as other retailers.



Copyright © 2000-2016, Erica Lucke Dean. All rights reserved. Any retranscription or reproduction is prohibited and illegal.

listen up!

Claire Ashby.jpg

Today's blog is courtesy of Claire Ashby, author of When You Make It Home, a new release from Red Adept Publishing. 

I remember the first time my first boyfriend ever criticized me. We were sixteen, cruising around in my ’76 Ford Granada. A Jane’s Addiction song came on the radio, so I cranked the volume all the way up and started singing.

There I was, singing like my life depended on it, next to my first love. The sky was brilliant, sunny and crowded with fluffy suspended clouds. Surely it was spring, warm, but not too warm. My love turned to me, smiling and said, “I hate it when you sing.”

After that day I didn’t sing around anyone again for a really long time. After all, he was right. I was a terrible singer. Why should I punish those around me with my voice? I reconciled myself to keep it to the shower or when driving alone.

When I began dating future hubs, we discovered that we cherished all the same music. We’d hang out and cook together, listening to tunes. Future hubs got into his music, singing and dancing. Sometimes I’d softly sing along, too, only if I wasn’t standing too close to him.

About a month after we met, we went on a road trip to check out a college band. On the drive future hubs popped in a Weezer CD and started wailing along. I joined him, but in my special soundless mouthing-the-words-sing-a-long. He suddenly turned to me, smiling and said, “Sing it like you mean it.”

I said, “Trust me, you don’t want to hear me sing.”

He said, “Trust me, I do.”

It felt like a dare. Thankfully, cars today have louder speakers than my old ’76 Granada. I leaned over, cranked up the volume and put all my heart into singing that song. Future hubs joined in, his eyes crinkling at the sides while he laughed, cringing.

“That was awesome,” he said when the song ended.

At that moment, I knew there was something different about future hubs from every other guy I’d ever dated. He loved watching me let go and enjoy myself. So we sang the rest of the way to that college bar, and when we got there I did something else I never did around other people. I danced. If there is one thing I’m worse at than singing, it’s dancing. But future hubs and I danced all night.

When you find that special someone, you don’t have to hide your imperfections. That’s my favorite part in romance novels—that moment when someone says: Trust me, I want to know you.

When You Make It Home is available on Amazon 



Author page on Red Adept:

Copyright © 2000-2016, Erica Lucke Dean. All rights reserved. Any retranscription or reproduction is prohibited and illegal.

Stranger in a Strange Land

Today's blog is courtesy of Traci Borum, author of Painting the Moon, a new release from Red Adept Publishing. 

When I’m brainstorming ideas for novels, I don’t usually love the research process like a lot of other authors do.  Research can be so tedious and flat sometimes.  But Painting the Moon was different.  Aside from looking up the basics online—the locations, the weather, the history, the music and TV references, the lingo and slang—I also relied on some old memories of my own.

I’m a native Texan, y’all, and the only time I’ve visited England was with my grandmother when I was seventeen, over twenty-five years ago.  I remember soaking up all the culture and history, walking through towering cathedrals and grand castles with secret passageways, visiting The Bard’s home and Jane Austen’s old stomping grounds.  I remember being captivated by everything—the double-decker buses, the hard-to-understand British accents, the petite stone walls outlining a patchwork countryside, the ragged coastlines, and even the unexpected things we’d find right outside our hotel windows (a huge chalk sketch of The Beatles on the sidewalk outside London; a festival of hot air balloons right outside Bath).   

Painting-the-Moon-800 Cover reveal and Promotional.jpg

            But I also remember how much of an alien I was sometimes during that trip.  Like when I would order “iced tea” at a restaurant and receive confused looks from waitresses who had no idea why I would ever want to put cubes of ice in my tea, how horrifying!  (But that’s the only way we drink it, here in the South.  And we like our tea sweet—very, very sweet).  I remember learning to use things like the “loo” instead of the bathroom or the “lift“ instead of the elevator.  Then there was the time I nearly fried my grandmother’s super-fine hair, as I tried to help her curl it before we left on a tour.  I apparently didn’t have the proper adaptor—which dawned on me when her hair actually started to smoke!  Alien, indeed.

            All in all, though, it was a memorable, incredible trip that stayed with me for years.  And eventually, I revisited those memories to call up vivid details of tastes and scents and views for a novel I was writing, set in a little Cotswold village.  I also leaned heavily on what it felt like to be a stranger in a strange land.  My main character, Noelle, is an American who winds up in England, and, like me when I was seventeen, she’s shy at first, unsure of herself, out of place.  A foreigner.  But eventually, she settles in, gets comfortable, and forms friendships that make her eventually feel like a true “villager.”

            I guess it was easy, writing this character, researching this setting—imagining myself in England, not just as a tourist, but as someone comfortable with the culture.  Someone who enjoys her tea hot, instead of iced.

Get your copy of Painting the Moon today!

Here are the links where the book is available:


Barnes & Noble:


Google Play:

You can also visit Traci on Goodreads:

Or her author page:  


Copyright © 2000-2016, Erica Lucke Dean. All rights reserved. Any retranscription or reproduction is prohibited and illegal.

armadillo couch potato

Have you ever had one of those days? You know the kind... you're rushing into the house to get out of the rain, arms filled with grocery bags, and your phone starts ringing. It's your mother with an emergency. Though, the word "emergency" is often a stretch. One woman's emergency is another woman's armadillo couch potato. 

Okay... I'll explain.

Mom was desperate to reach my sister, but she doesn't have Skype. I have Skype, so I was her only hope. And the reason she needed me to reach my sister via Skype was because my sister had abandoned her cell phone on the table when she fled the kitchen, flew up the stairs as if her hair was on fire, and locked herself in her second story bedroom. Why, you ask?

Because there was an armadillo running around her living room.

Now, admittedly, I've had my share of weird animal run-ins... from attack pigs to finding dead turkeys in my bed (I'll tell you that one later)... but never have I had the pleasure of discovering an armadillo in my living room. My sister freaked out and hid from the "prehistoric" creature (her words, not mine) wreaking havoc in her house. She called our mom's cell phone via Skype and asked her to send help. Of course, Mom couldn't call her back to arrange a rescue because she doesn't have Skype. 

When help finally arrived, my sister had to dangle from her bedroom window to give directions on how to break into the house, since all the doors were locked. In retrospect, she should have just told him to use the same entrance the armadillo did. The doggy door. And let me just toss in that this is precisely why I don't have a doggy door. An opening big enough for my dog to squeeze through would invite just about anything to come in with him.


My sister called me a few hours later to tell me the armadillo took a shit on her sofa. That was the only evidence he'd been there at all. I guess he decided to watch some TV while he was in the house. I mean, if I'm an armadillo, and I get the chance to hang out in someone's air conditioned house unfettered for an entire afternoon, I'm going to catch up on Animal Planet. 

And I thought I had problems. So much for having a few squirrels in the attic. My sister wins this round. But don't count me out yet. I have pigs again. And where there are pigs, there are stories to share. Just be patient. I can feel one coming soon.

Until the next time... I'll be washing the dead turkey vibes out of my sheets.

Copyright © 2000-2016, Erica Lucke Dean. All rights reserved. Any retranscription or reproduction is prohibited and illegal.

prison toilet paper

Now that I've got your attention, I should probably come clean with the fact that I've never actually been to prison. Like at all. Not even to visit. I mean, I've seen prison movies. Like The Rock. Or The Shawkshank Redemption. The closest I've gotten to an actual jail cell was on a school field trip. Even that was just a two-cell county jail, and no one was "home" at the time. But I feel as if I know all about prison toilet paper. Or gas station toilet paper. Space shuttle toilet paper. Biodegradable camping toilet paper. Take your pick, but trust me when I say you won't like it. Seriously, there's a reason why even desperate people don't steal the toilet paper from a truck stop restroom. 

Imagine if you will, fine grit sandpaper sliced whisper thin, rolled up in off-white sheets, packaged in plain wrapping, and marketed to men. I guess I'm on the universe's proverbial shit list because my hubby bought a damn case of it while I was out of town. He clearly didn't read the fine print (neither did I, but I'm guessing it says things like: Shreds on contact. No matter how much you use, your fingers WILL go through the entire wad. Every. Single. Time. Doubles as tracing paper. Even the dog will turn her muzzle up at this stuff. Leaves red marks on sensitive skin. Especially noses.) Did I mention I have a case of it? And a cold. So now I have a shiny red nose worthy of a reindeer. I'm trying to come up with other uses for it. Like. Like. Yeah, I got nothing.

But it's the weekend, and I'm resourceful, so don't count me out yet. I may just score a jumbo package of the good stuff and stash it where hubby can't find it. You know, the same place I stash the tampons and stuff. He never looks in there. 

Until the next time, 

I'll be planning covert TP ops.

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