THIS HAS TO STOP!! MANCHESTER ENGLAND IN MY PRAYERS

To the people of Manchester England,

You have my heart! I pray for peace and justice. 

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY

I couldn't have said this better....

"Happy Mother's Day to all the people who love without thinking, nurture without planning, protect when threatened, teach when the lesson needs to be shared, and especially to those who know when to step aside when someone they love is ready to spread their wings a little.
My love and my prayers are with all the mothers who's time was somehow condensed, and they are on the other side of the world or on the other side of heaven from the child they love. For you I pray for comfort in knowing that the hope and love that you nurtured continues in everyone your child has touched."

~MARY CRISP~

MY THOUGHT FOR TODAY--IN THE RAW

One reason why I love blogging is this platform gives me an outlet for what really matters to me. This post isn’t about Nancy C. Weeks, the author, but just Nancy.

I turned on the news early this morning then immediately turned it off. I then went on to Facebook to see what was going on there, and closed that. There are moments when it feels as if hate/obsession/injustice rules us all, and there isn’t a kind soul amongst us. My sweet mom would say that is how evil manifests itself into our lives, making us believe that love/compassion/forgiveness have no power. I'm here today to remind you that love will always overpower hate, goodness will always overpower evil, and there is hope for a better tomorrow for all of us. Pope Frances expresses it so much more eloquently than I ever could.

“A tiny flicker of light that feeds on hope is enough to shatter the shield of darkness. A single individual is enough for hope to exist, and that individual can be you. And then there can be another you, then another you and it turns into us.”

His Holiness, Pope Francis

Ted Talk April 2017

This is me paying attention. I will do everything I can to preserve the beauty of our world. I'm empowered to be the woman who is comfortable in her own skin, who recognizes the best in everyone, who cares about her neighbor regardless of the color of their skin, who they pray to or who they choose to love, and always has a smile to share. I refuse to be powerless, I have a voice. "Hope is the key." We are all unique, we all have good in us, and we can change our world. 

Hugs to all,

Nancy

CRAZY LITTLE SPRING CALLED LOVE

CRAZY LITTLE SPRING CALLED LOVE

Eight Magical Stories of Fantasy Romance
Stars and Stone Books

Featuring: Elsa Carruthers, M.T. DeSantis, Traci Douglass, A.E. Hayes, L.J. Longo, Cara McKinnon, Sheri Queen, and Mary Rogers

This delightful fantasy romance anthology features eight magical stories inspired by the awakenings and renewal of springtime. If you love gods and goddesses, fairies, djinn, druids, mermaids, sirens, and magic of all varieties, Crazy Little Spring Called Love delivers!

Traci Douglass - "When Hermes Met Eos"One night. Two star-crossed immortals. Will their vibrant connection survive beyond sunrise? Sheri Queen - "The Girl with a Broken Wing" A story of courage and sacrifice--and finding love where you never thought to look. Cara McKinnon - "Love at Dawn" Sometimes mortals need a little push from a god and goddess to fall in love… M.T. DeSantis - "A Hunt for Love" Can a djinn and a clueless guy beat the clock, avoid the curse, and maybe even find true love? L.J. Longo – “Seaweed and Silk” A mermaid: hundreds of miles from her home on the ice, on a ship with a troll, a goblin wizard, and a pack of wolves. What else can go wrong? Oh, right. A flippin’ sea monster. Mary Rogers – “Spring Fling” A druid’s bargain gives Carson revenge against his former lover Carrie–at the price of her memories of them together. But did she truly steal his magic all those years ago? Or was the real theft his heart? Elsa Carruthers – “Welded” Welding Witch, Rena, is on the run. She's not looking for love, but all the magic in the world can't keep the sparks from flying when her rivals, Nate and Duke, find her. A.E. Hayes – “A Siren’s Song of Spring” She is sworn to sing men to their deaths. Until one sails into her heart.

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Excerpt from M.T. DeSantis's story: A Hunt for Love

Three hundred years, eight months, two weeks, five days, seven hours, six minutes, and twenty-three seconds. That’s how long it’s been since I was last out of my planter. So, when someone rubs the side of my home, I’m understandably thrilled. A brilliant silver light surrounds me, eradicating the soul-crushing sorrow I’ve felt for so long. In a flash, I’m out in the sunshine, wearing my favorite pale blue sundress, and facing a startled-looking, but kind of cute, human male, who I instantly know is named Adam Jones. Djinn magic is useful that way. “What the…?” Adam jumps back. Brown eyes go wide above solid cheekbones, and well-muscled, but not bulky, arms go slack at his sides.

“Congratulations, Adam Jones!” I trill like a game show host. Coming out of the planter means the magic updates my cultural knowledge to the current times. “You have called upon Janessa, djinn of the planter, and I shall grant you three wishes.” I flick my wrist, and a silver wand with a star on top appears in my left hand. I point the wand at my lucky new master like a reporter might shove a microphone at a superstar. “So, what’ll it be?”

Adam doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t even move, except to blink a few times.

Uh, hello? I just offered this guy three wishes. Why isn’t he asking me for riches beyond his wildest dreams or a harem of beautiful women? Not that I’m complaining too much. The longer he takes to make up his mind, the longer I get to stay outside. It’s one of those perfect spring days, where the breeze flutters the ends of my waist-length auburn hair. The sun warms my skin, and a deep breath brings the scent of fresh grass into my nose. Yeah, you just keep deliberating, Adam.

“I must have dozed off.” Adam rubs his eyes and leaves them closed for a long time. When he opens them, they pop wide again. “You’re still here!” He flinches. “I’m talking to my dreams.”

“I’m not a dream.” I stop basking in the glory of daytime long enough to wave my wand. Some harmless silver sparkles float through the air. There’s nothing worse than a master in denial. Well, except for being stuck in darkness for over three hundred years, but I digress. “My name’s Janessa. I’m a djinn, and you rubbed my planter. So, now you get three wishes.” Honestly, has this guy never seen Aladdin?

He snorts. “Right. I’m supposed to believe you came out of my dead grandmother’s planter, somehow knowing my name, and are now going to grant me any three wishes I want.”

“Not any.” Maybe he really has never seen Aladdin. A flick of my wand makes a scroll with three bullet points unroll in midair. I tap each point as I read it off. “The standard limitations apply—no killing, no resurrecting, no falling in love. Other than that, you got it.” I tap the top of the scroll, and it disappears.

“This is ridiculous.” Adam turns his back on me and hurries away with long, powerful strides.

I take a moment to admire his backside, which is accentuated nicely by his jeans, before teleporting in front of him.

“Ah!” He jumps back again. “Listen, dream fairy lady—”

“Djinn.” Ugh, I’m so sick of people mistaking me for a fairy. Do I have wings? No. “And I’m not a dream. You rubbed the planter. You get three wishes, excluding the limitations mentioned earlier, and I’m not leaving until you make them.” Which is a technicality. I can’t leave until he makes them. Not that I want to go back in the planter for another three hundred years, but I don’t want to follow a confused guy around for the rest of my existence either. I poke him in the chest with my wand, and a patch of his shirt sparkles silver. “Now, get wishing.”

To his credit, Adam doesn’t huff away this time. He folds his arms and taps his chin with one pointer finger. “Okay. Fine. If my life is going to insist on being ridiculous, I’ll fight fire with fire. No falling in love, but I bet if I wish for a scavenger hunt to find my one true love before dinner—”

The words take over my body. The arm holding my wand thrusts skyward. “It is done.” A silvery-pink lightning bolt streaks from the top point of the star. There’s a clap of thunder, and a single sheet of paper floats toward the ground.

To find out what happens next, get your copy of Crazy Little Spring Called Love!

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M.T. DeSantis currently resides in a small city on the U.S. eastern seaboard. When not writing, she can be found practicing yoga, attempting to answer trivia questions at restaurants, or plotting her next adventure. Website: mtdesantis.blogspot.com Facebook: desantismauthor Twitter: @desantismt Goodreads: M.T. DeSantis Amazon: M.T. DeSantis