Tag Archives: stories

[Review] Frostbeard Studios – Stay Home and Read

Get it while you can. After March, it gets moved to “Bring it Back.”

The candle for today is Stay Home and Read. It’s supposed to smell like a hazelnut cappuccino and a fireplace. I love hazelnut, but I’ve never had cappuccino (that I’m aware of, anyway), so I’m not sure how accurate that part of the scent is correct, but I can tell you I definitely do not smell a fireplace.

Like most of us, I always smell a candle before I actually light it; it’s usually a good indicator of what kind of scent to expect when it is lit. When I smelled this candle, I was immediately concerned that it would be too sweet. I gave it a chance though, and I’m glad I did. The scent is just barely on this side of not too sweet, and honestly? It makes my coffee taste better. Weird, but I like it. Not enough to buy the big candle, but enough that I would recommend it to anyone who likes the coffee shop feel when they’re writing.

Breakdown:

Frostbeard Studio says: I say:
Scent Details Hazelnut cappuccino and fireplace Every coffee shop EVER.
Scent Strength MediumLight-medium

Click on the bearded fellow above to order it while you can!

[Review] Frostbeard Studios – Bedtime Stories

Finally put in my order for the spring seasonal candles, and I am so ready to find out what Frostbeard Studios thinks a Sexy Librarian smells like.

This candle is now part of their “Bring it Back” collection.

The candle for this week is Bedtime Stories. According to the makers, this candle should smell like jasmine, chamomile and sandalwood, and – while I’m not sure about the sandalwood part – it seems to have hit the mark. It reminds me of when we would get my youngest nephew ready for bed when he was a baby. I’m not sure what baby wash my roommates used on him, but I remember the scent would mix with the lavender and chamomile lotion I use myself, and it would smell just like this candle (his family is more into bedtime songs, rather than stories, but anyway…). I can’t say the candle is a favorite, but I don’t consider it a waste of money either.

Breakdown:

Frostbeard Studio says: I say:
Scent Details Jasmine, Chamomile, Sandalwood Chamomile, baby powder and lavender.
Scent Strength MediumLight-medium

Currently unavailable


Click on the bearded fellow above to see what else they have available that might tickle your fancy~

[Announcement] Finals week.

abc books chalk chalkboard

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Just a heads up that there will not be an installment of “Don’t Feed the Trolls” this week. My university is online, but we still have finals. The professor for one class has given all of us an extension on the ones due for her class, but that’s not the only class I’m in, and my eye has been blurring more than usual (oh joy), which severely hampers my ability to write. Hopefully next week will be back to normal.

In the meantime, don’t forget to check out my Twitter for your #Batfile prompt, and I’ll be back on Monday with a Story and a Song.

Updates all around

Here, a selfie apology. (Ignore my hair. It’s a mess.)

Alright, so I know things have been quiet here, but it’s been a bit of a bumpy ride this past month/two months.

First, I had a tooth that decided to go abscess. For those of you who don’t know what that’s like – it sucks. And the pain makes it damn near impossible to sleep. I’m used to going without sleep, insomnia has been a lifelong friend, but combined with the pain…ugh. To make it even better, that was the week when a big paper for class was due. I ended up having to text my professor, letting her know that it was going to be late, and why. Fortunately, I had a very understanding teacher, and she gave me an extension, but I hated to do that.

Then: the company my roommates (and I, by extension) work for had an issue with the fire alarm/sprinkler system, so we were all on fire watch for almost two weeks. Basically, every hour, one of us had to do a round on the property to make sure nothing was on fire. Every. Hour. On top of working – and in my case – schooling.

Add in the end of the school year, both kids being home, finals week, the author interview from the other day, and various other issues that have popped up…it’s just been a nightmare. (Still trying to figure out what I’m going to do with my Mondays now that “Lucifer” is gone until next year…)

Not saying there hasn’t been good to go with the bad…I’m finally figuring out Instagram, I’ve rediscovered my love for VIXX (seriously, I’ve turned into a complete teenager over these boys. It’s a bit ridiculous),  and I started work on the proper sequel to Say “No!” to Zombies. 

Ladies and gentlemen, and everything in between or out, I would like to introduce you to Book 2 of “The Survivors Chronicles” (name may change): “Don’t Feed The Trolls.”

I even made you something…um…pretty? Ha. Enjoy. And scroll down for a very short preview. As always, when it comes to Shelly, there is a warning for language.

Don't Feed the Trolls (1).png

 

The things we realize…

It’s interesting how a random thought can turn into a realization about your entire childhood. A couple weeks ago, someone on Facebook posted about how they liked horseradish, and it got me thinking about my grandfather.

In the entire time that I knew him, and I’ll grant you, it wasn’t very long, but in that time, he never asked me to bring him anything. He would ask my cousins, or my aunts and uncles, but never me, and I think I finally figured out why.

To borrow the good ol’ sports analogy, I was born with two strikes against me. Let me explain…

First, my mother.

My mother is easily the most kind hearted person I know. Sometime early in my parent’s relationship, my mom was helping make sandwiches for lunch. My grandfather asked for horseradish on his. Mom, never having horseradish before, proceeded to slather it on to the bread like it was mayonnaise, and gave it to him. Grandpa took one bite, and spat it back out, yelling, “You trying to kill me, woman?!”

That was strike one.

Then, my sister.

My brother and sister are both 9+ years older than I am, and grew up when my family was especially church orientated. When I say “church orientated”, I mean, my father was a deacon, and my mother was a Sunday School teacher. So it was church every Wednesday, twice on Sunday, and every single day during Revival. This might not seem relevant, but bear with me.

Now, my grandfather liked to drink beer. He also liked to sit in his comfy chair, which left him with a problem: how to get a nice cold beer from the fridge…without getting out of his comfy chair. His solution was to ask my sister to bring him a beer.

Remember the thing about the church? Here is where it comes into play, because, you see, the church taught two major things: respecting your elders…and alcohol is bad. So, grandpa’s solution…became my sister’s problem. Alcohol was bad, but so was refusing to do what he asked her to. Fortunately, my sister has always been smart and came up with a solution to grandpa’s “solution.” She brought him a beer from the fridge, alright. But first, she gave it a good shake.

He made it through the unexpected beer shower the first time. And the second. And maybe even the third, I don’t remember how many times she did this to him before his cogs started turning, but eventually, he stopped asking her, and turned to my brother instead.

I love my sister, let me just get that out of the way now. She is the usually the sweetest little thing. However, she has her moments. And when grandpa asked our brother to bring him a beer? Well, she had a moment. She got our brother, three years younger than her, in on Operation Respect Our Elders/Beer is Bad. It eventually got to the point where grandpa would look around, realize that they were the only two there…and get up out of his chair to go get his beer, rather than risk another shower.

That was strike two.

By the time I came around, grandpa decided it was better to change sports than to worry about any curve balls I might’ve thrown him, and – just to be safe – he also wrote my name on all of the benches…with permanent marker. Now that I’ve had time to think about it, of course, I’m surprised he didn’t take a knife and carve my name into the wood.

At any rate, it’s a childhood mystery solved.

“The Alabaster Man”

Have you ever wanted to like a story so much that it was almost painful when you couldn’t? I recently joined a group of reviewers, and while looking through the magazine I would be reviewing, I kindasortamaybe fell in love with it. Most of the stories are amazing, and are a genuine joy to read, so I decided to go all the way back to the beginning of the issues and start reading there.

Boy, am I glad I didn’t do that at the beginning. The first work, a short story titled “The Alabaster Man” by Jennifer Todhunter is…well, it’s okay. I liked the idea. It was actually similar to something a friend of mine had written before, but I just couldn’t enjoy Jennifer’s take on it. It didn’t strike my fancy, I guess you could say. Maybe it was all the “and he was like”, “and I was like” but I found it almost annoying to read. It definitely was not a story I will be reading again.

Feel free to check it out yourselves here. These things are always a matter of taste. Maybe your literary palate will enjoy it more than mine did.