Friday, January 27, 2012

Who is Adonis and Why is He Referred To So Frequently?

So, I decided to write a story for an upcoming anthology called “Cupid Painted Blind” and my story is based on characters from Greek Mythology.  One item seemed to strike me as odd during my research.  Of all the gods, why is it that Adonis managed to make his way into so many books?

When you look at the major players in Greek Mythology, Adonis doesn’t even make it to the list and yet, he is still referred to with a frequency unmatched.  But what are we really trying to say as a comparative?  Modern society has already deemed that the reference is defined as:  being handsome beyond mortal possibility.  I on the other hand feel that the real Adonis was more beautiful than handsome and to compare a man’s looks to him, would be like comparing Jenifer Lopez’s feminine beauty to Jillian Michaels more masculine appearance.  Not to say that both are not beautiful in their own way.  Just that one of them has big hands and an adams apple...
(photo removed)

So, here’s how the story goes...Aphrodite fell in love with Adonis, but it was said to be at the tip of Eros’ (Cupid) arrow.  As pictured below, even Cupid seems a bit shocked by the hookup as noted by the WTF look on his face.

If Adonis was so handsome, would Aphrodite even need Eros’ help?   Really, it’s not like Aphrodite had a problem with extra-marital flings.   She and Ares were lovers long after she and Hephaestus married.  But, I can see why she would mess around with Ares.  He is a manly man to say the least.
(photo removed)

 From now on, I think I will refer to extremely handsome, manly men as Ares like and not like Adonis.  It makes more sense that way.

 Do you have any thoughts about Adonis?   Who would you swoon over, the god of war or the god of beauty and desire?  Yeah...I’m defiantly team Ares!!!  Please leave me a commment.

And if you haven't entered yet, please check out my Cozy Up With a Book Blog Hop post.  I'm giving away a signed copy of Spell Checked.
C.G. Powell
Author of Spell Checked: Book One of The No Uncertain Logic Series
Follow me!  Facebook | Website | Twitter | Goodreads
Buy my book  Amazon | Barns & Noble | Smashwords

Wednesday, January 25, 2012

The Love's of Leopold Singer by L.K. Rigel

The Loves of Leopold Singer

The one who loves him can't have him. The one who has him can't love him.

Leopold Singer is any woman's perfect match - handsome, brilliant, and rich. Lady Delia Devilliers wants him for his fortune, but his heart is torn between Susan Gray and Marta Schonreden.

When Leopold and Marta visit London on their way to Massachusetts, Delia is consumed by jealousy. She puts Marta in the path of known rake Sir Carey Asher, but it's Susan who has the power to destroy everyone's happiness. One night in London leaves wounds more devastating than a venomous bite. Marta and Susan are each trapped in her own emotional hell, and each must find her own way back to happiness.

This multi-generational family saga spans the late Georgian through Regency periods, 1776 to 1832, from Austria to Massachusetts and London to Jamaica.


LK Rigel lives in California with her television-watching cat, Coleridge. (His favorite show is Castle, but he was enthralled by Game of Thrones.) Rigel wrote songs for the 90's band The Elements, scored the independent science fantasy karate movie Lucid Dreams, and was a reporter for the Sacramento Rock 'N Roll News. Her work has appeared in Literary Mama and Tattoo Highway.

Rigel writes the postapocapunk "Apocalypto" series about the end of the world and the new reality in which the gods return to save humanity from itself - and end up fighting with each other. Her book, GIVE ME – A TALE OF WYRD AND FAE, is the first in the Tethers series.

My Review:

At first I was reluctant to read a book of this size...I know how my ADD mind works, I lose interest quickly.  It’s not uncommon for me to put a book down and never pick it up again, not because it is awful, but more likely because it just can’t keep my mind engaged. That was not a problem with this book.
The Loves of Leopold Singer is a fantastically written historical romance.  The book is cut up into a bunch of mini stories that come full circle in the end.  It takes a look at the many loves of Leopold Singer and how he affected their lives.  It also delves into the sordidness of bastardism and how it molded the lives of so many during that era.
As I got to the end, I was beginning to wonder if there was any way to connect the dots of the lives of so many.   But, as the characters began to give up their secrets, it showed how intertwined their live really were without even knowing.  I love this book and truly believe that L.K. Rigel out did herself on this one.  It was very well written and the characters are memorable....all 20 of them...LOL

Sunday, January 22, 2012

Broken Shoulders and Marion Zimmer Bradley

As a teen, I wasn’t much of a reader of novels.  I preferred to keep my head in the real books and spent many hours reading encyclopedias instead of fiction.  I know this is not normal, but it was what I loved to do and at the time the only way to sate my unrelenting curiosity of the world around me.  But, that all changed in 1992 due to an unfortuitous event and a chance meeting that change my life forever.

It was a hot spring day and I had just arrived at the barracks in Cecil Field.  Being that it was Friday and I didn’t have to report to class until Monday, I decided to step outside of my room and take a look around.  I was new there, having just moved from Guam, and I didn’t know anyone (kind of the norm in the military).  My room was on the second floor, so I looked out over the rail to see if anything was going on at the small pavilion that sat between the buildings.  After a few minutes, I was approached by a young man named Billy, who invited me to a party at the pavilion later that evening.

I waited until the party was in full swing then make my way downstairs.  Bill introduced me to his friends.  Not being much of a drinker, I sat on one of the picnic tables and watched everyone else get drunk.   At some point one of the guys thought it would be fun to play chicken and scooped me up on his shoulders.   Wanting to have my feet firmly on the ground I protested and after several minutes he finally did.  He just bent right over and dropped me on my shoulder.

The medical building on base could be seen from the pavilion and I watched as the ambulance pulled out....To this day I am still wondering how the driver got lost it took an hour for him to show up and cart me off to the hospital.  By now you’re beginning to wonder how this has anything to do with books and why I’m now an Author.  But, I really did feel the need to start at the beginning. 

When I did not return to the barracks by the next morning, Dawn the only other girl there that night became concerned, called the hospital then grabbed Billy.  He grabbed one of his duffel bags, went to my barracks room and packed it with the things he thought I might need.  Once at the hospital he walked in my room carrying a blue duffel bag and a stack of books.  I was thankful that someone bothered to check on me.  I would spend the next 10 days in the hospital...My collar bone was shattered and unfixable, my shoulder blade was fractured in multiple locations and now so dislocated it rested against the vertebra of my neck.  It took 7 days for the swelling to go down enough to do surgery. 


During that time Billy visited every day, I read the books he bought for me and found that Marion Zimmer Bradley’s Darkover was the most fascinating world I could have ever imagined.  For the first time in my life, I read something that left me wanting more.  It made me want to become part of that world, so I bought every single Darkover novel I could find and read them too.  Over the years I have read these books so many times some of the pages are starting to fall out and the covers look like they have seen better days.  It would still take me 20 more years to decide to write my own world and like the Darkover books, mine books also blur the line between Sci-Fi and Fantasy.

To this day I still have the 5 inch scar on the front of my shoulder, 3inches missing from my collar bone and Billy still by my side even after knowing me for 20 years.  And had Marion lived longer, I’m certain I would have been her biggest fan.

(photo removed)

What in life has inspired you?  Have you ever read a series that changed your way of thinking?  I would love to hear from you.  And if you have a strange story about how you met your significant other, please share it in the comments too!!!    

C.G. Powell

Author of Spell Checked: Book One of The No Uncertain Logic Series
Follow me!   Facebook | Website | Twitter | Goodreads
Buy my book  Amazon | Barns & Noble | Smashwords

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

Alien Tracking Devices and Mammograms

After many years of avoiding what was sure to be a very unpleasant experience, I finally decided to get a mammogram.  Honestly if not for the phone calls from my primary care physician and the insurance company’s constant hounding to get it done, I may not have gotten one, which is not one of my wiser choices. 

5 Dec 2011- Round One

The snow was just starting to fall as I pulled into the parking lot at Fauquier Hospital, after making my way through the slowest moving automatic revolving doors known to man, I walked over to the front desk and was greeted promptly.

The sound of their volunteer operated baby grand played in the back ground while the nice woman behind the desk asked for my information.  After signing a few papers, she promptly tagged me with a lovely hospital bracelet, I guess that’s so they can find you if you escape, and pointed me to the imaging waiting room.

Again I am greeted with a smile, this time by the imaging receptionist.  She checks my paperwork over, types a couple of things on her computer, then tells me to have a seat in the waiting room.  Settling in for what is sure to be a very long wait, I open my iPad case and look for a Wi-Fi connection.  A smile crosses my face when I realize the hospital has free Guest Wi-Fi, because who really wants to be stuck in a hospital waiting room with no internet?  By the time I make my first Facebook comment, the imaging nurse is at the door calling my name...Gees, that was fast, I guess they don’t want to give you time to think about things and escape.

Okay this one is smiling too and I’m starting to feel like I’m in a bad remake of Stepford Wives.  Leery from the all-around giddiness of this place, I quickly change into the lovely cape they have provided me with, which covers very little and get be escorted by the nurse to the torture room (location of the Mammography equipment).  Thankfully I’m not very modest about my boobs, most likely from years of attending Mardi Gras, so our little jaunt across the hospital half-dressed really didn’t faze me.

After twenty minutes of having the girls squeezed between varying sized plates of plastic, which was quite uncomfortable but not unbearable, the technician was finally done.  She quickly showed me the pictures she had taken...kind of like the way they do at Picture People only this time they are all boob shots and you don’t get to take them home.  While looking over the pictures she noted that the software had circled a couple of things on the left side, so she took a couple more pictures for good measure then released me from the hospital.

I live about thirty minutes away from the hospital, so I was a bit surprised when I got a call from my primary care physician the moment I got home.  She is concerned about my mammogram results and has already made me an appointment for a second mammogram and an ultrasound.

20 Dec 11 – Round 2

“I’ve done this before, so now I’m an expert,” I thought, watching the snow flurries blow in front of me in the parking lot.  Ten minutes from the front door to the torture room, breaking the worlds land speed record for time spent in a waiting room and checking in.  The Stepford Nurses are still creeping me out, but I don’t plan on staying here long and I have an escape plan and a pair of scissors to remove the id bracelet, so it’s all good.  Unlike the last time, only one of the girls gets to do this photo shoot, and to make sure the images are good this time, the technician made sure to double crank the plates down.  Making me want to scream “Alright, I’ll tell you everything you want to know!”  Only this time when she is done, I got to sit in the special waiting room for super hero’s wearing flowered capes.

A few minutes later a different technician comes by and lets me know that the doctor wants him to do an ultrasound.   “Great!” I think to myself, eyeing the young male technician and thankful once again for my lack of modesty.  The details of the ultrasound are kind of boring, unlike the ones from pregnancy where you ooh and ahh over every detailed baby part on the screen.  Conclusion – I’m going to need a biopsy.

29 Dec 11 – Round 3

After getting the results from the imaging department at the hospital, my primary care physician felt that it would be best to send me to a specialist, which turned out to be a big waste of money.  The specialist looked at the films quickly, felt around my now sore breast and agreed that I needed a biopsy.  Wait this is the good part...She is going to write an order to have it done by the doctor at the hospital, because his equipment is better than hers.  “Yes, in more ways than one,” quickly ran through my head as I departed her office, missing the kindness of the Stepford Nurses at the hospital.

9 Jan 12 – Round 4

I’m back again at Fauquier Hospital, arm stretched out as they tag me at the door.  I feel more like a regular now, waving to the guy playing the piano before I make my way to the imaging department.  Today I have back-up, my best cousin in the world has decided to join me in what she has labeled a booby poking party.  I’m early because I hadn’t picked up the order from the specialist yet or done any of the admissions paperwork.  But this hospital works like a well-oiled machine and had everything ready before I got there.  Once I hand over my paperwork to the imaging receptionist, she calls to the back to see what time they need me since I am early.  It’s lunch time so, I was a bit happy when she said 1:45pm.  I looked at my cousin and in unison we both said “Ruby Tuesdays.”

Still tagged, I escape the hospital and go to lunch.  I wish I could say it was good, but after horking down a 2oz overcooked piece of meat that they have the nerve to call a steak, I was wishing we had gone to Chipotle instead  for chicken tacos.  And now it’s now I should have expected it.

Upon my return to the hospital, I was promptly brought back to the surgical waiting area.  This is where you put on your gown and lay in bed while they attach a bunch of stuff to you.  I’m thinking, they have the wrong person I’m just here for a simple biopsy.  Just as my spidy scenes were starting to tingle and escape was imminent, a young male nurse entered my curtained area.

Recognizing the Stepford expression that encompassed his face, like a Chip and Dale dancer in a room of ugly girls with a stack of ones, he smiled and explained the procedure.  He handed me a paper brochure with info about the surgeon who would be preforming the biopsy and asked if I had any questions.

(photo removed)

Handing him back the paper, I asked “I don’t like this one, aren’t there any cuter ones available?”

He laughed before responding, “We can reschedule your procedure if you would like.”

I shrugged my shoulders and responded, “Na...I’m already here, so he will have to do.”

Moments later we were joined by the doctor.  During his detailed explanation, he mentioned that they would leave a small tag in the area, so it would be easier to find during follow ups.

I laughed and said to him, “Speaking of tags, the aliens have already removed the tracking device from my boob, so you are not going to find anything today.” 

He chuckled and said, “Well, let’s make sure before I send you on your way.”

I get wheeled down the hall to a small ultrasound room.  The technician gets me comfortable and begins to do the ultrasound before the doctor gets there.  After several minutes of scanning she looked back at the computer screen containing my last ultrasound and began searching again. When the doctor arrived, the technician explained to him that she couldn’t find the spot.  So, he looked over the report and the older images, then looked around with the ultrasound for a long time.  Finally he said, I need to get a second doctor’s opinion before walking out the room.

Moments later he was back with another doctor and the young male nurse from the surgical waiting area.  The second doctor looked around then back and forth between the old images and the ones she was producing.  By now my boob was getting sore from all the pressure being exerted on it by the ultrasound wand.  The doctors kind of shrug and tell me I won’t need the biopsy they can’t find anything.

That’s when quickly said, “I told you they came back and removed their tracking device.”

The doctor laughed and said, “See you in six months for your next mammogram.”

And for you ladies that don't like to do breast exams, here is a little video that might help:

The moral to this story....Don’t wait to get your mammogram, Aliens only come back for tracking devices, so they don’t get caught. They don’t care if you have cancer, so you need to stay on top of that yourself.
Anyone else have a hospital adventure you would like to share?  I would love to hear it.

C.G. Powell
Author of Spell Checked: Book One of The No Uncertain Logic Series
Follow me! Facebook | Website | Twitter | Goodreads
Buy my book Amazon | Barns & Noble | Smashwords

Sunday, January 1, 2012

Io's Song - Concept Cover

In my drunken stupor last night, I began to plot out my next book.  It will be called Io’s Song.  I made a concept cover for it....Feel free to tell me what you think.