Mary J. McCoy-Dressel

Sensual western romance. Heartwarming stories. Strong family ties.
Mary J. McCoy-Dressel
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  • Tag: romance author

    • Details. Details… Give Me Details! #MFRWauthor

      Posted at 9:29 am by Mary J. McCoy-Dressel, on March 9, 2018

      Time is going by fast again this year. By counting down each week, it makes the year speed by, and I’m not sure I like the idea. Days, weeks, months, and yes, years already go by too fast. Do you ever get the feeling time is running out?

      Anyway, we’re back with the Marketing for Romance Writers 52-Week Blog Challenge.

      Week 10: Things only my family would understand.

      Answer: I don’t like spur-of-the-minute invitations. I like to know where I’m going, what we’re doing, and who will be there.

      This isn’t fun and takes the spontaneity out of life. Often, I get invited to dinner or to an event of some sort. I like to know well in advance so I have time to prepare.

      However, when you have kids, you can’t let an issue like this rule your life. You have to be ready to get up and go, and I did in the past.

      I do “get up and go” now when I have no choice or when my whimsy feels adventurous.

      One New Year’s Day, a few friends and I hopped on a plane and flew to Chicago for the day with barely enough money to get back home. To be truthful, we didn’t have enough money for one of us to get back home. We never left the O’Hare airport once we got there, but back then, it didn’t matter. We were teens, and to us it was like going to the mall. We’d find something to do. Talk about spur-of-the-minute.

      DISCLAIMER: I don’t advise teens to go flying off to Chicago or anywhere without having a plan and money.

      This trip could’ve turned out bad for us, and it nearly did. All I can say is I’m glad we had a sense of smart. Another time, a friend and I packed a bag, hopped into a car with a couple guys we knew, and moved to Missouri. Huh? I left my mom a note. Every day while there, I had an unplanned event. It wasn’t a good three months. Bad things happened. I shudder to think of those days now. I didn’t mean to digress.

      It isn’t so much about getting a call for a spur-of-the-minute activity, but it’s more about the not-knowing-what-to-expect part.

      Here’s an example of one of those “not knowing” moments:

      My youngest son sprang a surprise on me a few years ago. He and his wife, before they were married, had an outing planned for her mom and I for Mother’s Day. My son understands that I like to know in advance, so he gave me plenty of time, but then the “not knowing” aspect took over. The panic attack kicked in. I stressed over this for weeks because I didn’t know the details. Being Mother’s Day, I assumed I’d need to wear something nice, but my son and daughter-in-law are adventurous. It could’ve been bungee jumping or zip lining. LOL.

      About a week before Mother’s Day, he told me we’d be seeing a special Mother’s Day performance from the Detroit Symphony Orchestra at Kirk in the Hills, a majestic, gothic-style church patterned after Scotland’s Melrose Abbey. We’d have dinner at an awesome place near there first. Why wouldn’t it turn out to be a fantastic evening? I had a date with my son for Mother’s Day. My crazy inner self had stressed for no reason. As usual.

      Since I retired, I’ve become a half-ass recluse. My family understands this, but they don’t like it. I’m always being told I need to get out more. My friends tell me this, too. Yes, I need to get out more, take more breaks away from my computer, and take more vacations. Note to self: Read the Bucket List post again.

      This is a blog hop, folks. Are you curious to see how other authors deal with only things their family understands? I am. Let’s visit them by clicking HERE.

      Thanks for reading. See you next time.

       

      Photo credits for first two images: Pixabay

      Posted in #MFRWauthor, 52-week blog challenge | 12 Comments | Tagged #AmWriting, #MFRWauthor, #WritersLife, blog, blog hop, Cowboy Romance, Details. Details... Give Me Details! #MFRWauthor, Detroit Symphony orchestra, Marketing for Romance Writers 52-Week Blog Challenge, mary j mccoy dressel, Mother's Day, romance author, romance series, western romance
    • #MFRWauthor Onward~Ten Years Down the Road

      Posted at 6:27 am by Mary J. McCoy-Dressel, on August 11, 2017

      #MFRWauthor Week 32: Ten Years From Now

      I’m guilty of being blog absent these days. Two reasons:

      1. I’m getting another western romance novel ready to go to the editor. (My tenth western romance.) I have one more proof read to go through before sending it to my editor.
      2. The other reason for being blog absent is because I haven’t had anything to say. I didn’t try hard to find something to write about, so this blog hop helps.

      I didn’t want to have two weeks go by without contributing to the Marketing for Romance Writers Blog Challenge Blog Hop, so here I am at week thirty-two. I’m briefly writing about Ten Years from Now.

      Oh, boy. At this point in my life, I’m not sure I care to plan so far ahead. For one thing, I hope I’m alive, in decent health, and still have my eyesight. Oh, and that my back gets back to normal. It’d be nice if I lived near both of my boys, but the chance is slim. Very slim. One is already out of state, and the other will be in another state sooner than I want to think about. They’ll be on opposite coasts. If I can take turns spending time with them, and living independently in ten years, I’ll be happy.

      Of course, I hope the world is still here in ten years.

      As far as finally living my lifelong dream of being a full time writer, I hope in ten years I’ll be able to sit back and not have to worry about income, thanks to full-time writing now. If someone had told me ten years ago that I’d be doing this now, I wouldn’t have believed them, but it happened.

      Mary J McCoy-Dressel, western romance

      Nonetheless, I DON’T want to be sitting at my computer writing one book after the other to ensure my financial stability when I’m ten years older. I DO want to sit at my computer and continue to write for pleasure at my own pace. Don’t get me wrong—I write for pleasure now, but I’m also building for whatever future I have remaining. What the heck will a computer look like in ten years? A book?

      I’ve been divorced. I’ve been widowed… Been loved. Been not-so-loved. Had best friends. Lost best friends. None of us know what’ll happen to us tomorrow…or an hour from now let alone to think of ten years down the road, but I’m thinking positively.

      Please know…

      YOUNG people should be planning for ten years from now. I repeat: Young people should be planning for ten years from now. Your future depends on what you do now. This doesn’t only mean to plan your financial future, but a healthy future too. Start planning.

      So there it is. I don’t have big dreams for ten years from now–like traveling the world, being on Dancing with the Stars, winning a Nobel Peace Prize, or being a grandmother, which would’ve happened by now and it hasn’t.   😦   Truly, I don’t often ask for much. In ten years, I want to live a life that is comfortable for me. How about you?

      Remember this is a blog hop with Marketing For Romance Writers. Please drop in on the other authors by clicking HERE. 

      Marketing For Romance Writers.org, Mary J McCoy-Dressel, western romanceThank you for your visit today.  ❤

       

      Pixabay gets credit for the “10” image and the computer image.

      Posted in #MFRWauthor, 52-week blog challenge | 18 Comments | Tagged #Cowboy series, #MFRWauthor, 52-week blog challenge, blog hop, finacial security, healthy, Marketing for Romance Writers, Mary J McCoy-Dressel, Onward Ten Years Down the Road, Romance, romance author, ten year plan, think ahead, western romance
    • Forbidden: My Muse

      Posted at 1:05 pm by Mary J. McCoy-Dressel, on April 2, 2014

      Many of you don’t know this side of me…

      • Sometimes I think of other things besides cowboys. (Not often)
      • Sometimes I do write in first person.
      • Sometimes this music moves me. (Video below)
      • Always– I listen to my muse.

      FORBIDDEN: My Muse

      I see him often at Midnight. Does he know? The way he moves is so sensual and serene at the same time. To know even the slightest touch from his warm fingers, would be so erotic against my heated skin. Does he know? Does he sense me in the shadows? Does he smell my perfume, dream of my sweet lips? I dream of his lips, titillating and tempting they are.

      I smell his scent, so masculine, and belonging to only him when he walks by– while I stand in the shadows, watching, feeling, inhaling, and dreaming of his touch. One day I will step out, and show that I yearn for him, lust for him. Will he know? Will he lust? Will he love?

      My lonely fingers want to smooth his dark hair, push it behind his ears, and breathe 320px-Auge_Böhringer_A_1sensuous words into his psyche. My eyes of blue can only stare upon his beautiful brown orbs from the shadows. Oh! He comes so close at times. Watching his form walk past, seeing his broad shoulders—what a wonderful place to rest my head. Those legs, long and firm, could walk me to a field filled with white clover, and lie me down.

      His complete body could lie atop me, and drive me to ecstasy, to forbidden places that only live in my mind. His fingers could touch places in my body that no man ever knew, and I would scream words I’d usually never say. My lips would do things he asked of me, my tongue flick his forbidden spots, make him feel sensations he didn’t know existed within himself.

      Yes, when I walk out of the shadows, I will go to him, walk up behind him, put my hands right on his shoulders…and–

      He will be spellbound as he inhales my womanly scent, reeking, dripping, and calling from 659025qoghhh3656my most feminine places. He will quiver when my fingernails, painted with screaming red polish, undo the buttons on his shirt, and then rake across his chest, pulling at the wispy hairs there. He will suck in his breath as I slip my fingers inside the waistband of his jeans, sliding my hands against his abdomen, reaching lower to feel the warmth of his swollen forbidden length of manly pride.

      I’ll watch him toss his head back against me. I’ll place my heated lips against his ear, smooth his hair back away from his face, and turn him around to look at my lustful gaze. Looking into my eyes, he will melt with desire, grasp my shoulders and slide his hand across my buttocks, lower his lips to my plump breasts, tantalizing my beaded peaks with his heated tongue. Will he lust? Yes! Will he smell my fragrance? He will! Will he dream of my sweet lips? Yes! He will walk me to fields filled with white clover…Yes…and lie me down, covering me with his complete body. He will, when I come out of the shadows…

      But wait!

      Do I see the lights come on? Is it a part of my muse? Am I correct when I look into his forbidden eyes? He can see my eyes of blue with the lights on. I will know in thirty seconds, for in this forbidden room, there are no more shadows to hide behind. And he is standing mere feet away with his back to me. Only two steps is all it will take.

      But wait! My hands are reaching for his shoulders.

      He is lifting his head, sniffing my scent, knowing what it calls for. Yes, his head is leaning back against me, savoring the feel of my hands crawling over his chest. Is that a moan escaping from his lips as I entangle his hair between my fingers? A sigh as my fingers slip lower? Yes!

      372488y1y6pqhzveWith the shadows gone will he look into my eyes of blue…? Yes– he can see, feel, inhale… Yes, he will smell my hypnotic perfume, taste my lips, full of sweet. Are his hands on my shoulders? His lips against my neck? His arms pressing me against his body? Oh, yes, I smell his scent. Feel his hands slipping lower, higher…? This isn’t the way it’s supposed to be. But, yes, he’s leading me out the door. I see fields filled with white clover. His smile, tempting, his hand in mine, leading meField_of_clover_near_Upwey_-_geograph.org.uk_-_1360802 to…to…

      Oh! Mmmmm. Ahhhh… Yes…

      Copyright © Mary J. Dressel All Rights Reserved.

      My muse.

      My muse does this to me sometimes.

      Blue eye: Taken by Böhringer Friedrich. Couples: Glitter-Graphics .com. Field of clover: Trish Steel [CC-BY-SA-2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)%5D, via Wikimedia Commons

      Posted in #AmWriting | 2 Comments | Tagged first person writing, Forbidden my Muse, mary j mccoy dressel, Romance, romance author, sexy prose
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