Book Review: Vengeance Road Christine Feehan

As the weather turns spring-like, more motorcycles will immerge from hibernation. And with them, a fierce reputation for danger and adventure.
I've never been much of a motorcycle fan myself--okay, lets admit it, I'm down-right petrified of them. But I do have a healthy appreciation for those that ride. I have a few friends in clubs, and several more that want to be, so I'm vaguely familiar with the culture.
Christine Feehan has an amazing ability to suck you into the world of biker gangs, and hold you captive.
More than just nailing the MC culture like a prospect aiming to prove himself, she offers a steamy glimpse at the love sparked between two main characters who are destined to love no other. Its a rare thing in the gang world, where badge and buckle chasers are in plentiful supply, and the drive to stay loyal to any single woman can quickly loose it's nobility.
Because, women age...They change! No one stays pretty and pristine forever, and another pretty barfly will be constantly waiting in the wings to snare herself a bad boy, even if he belongs to someone else. Feehan addresses this issue expertly, time and again through this novel, giving the imperfect hope for a man like her hero, and proving that you don't have to be perfect to be appreciated.

Shepard Me to the Pie!

I have this thing for food in literature.

Maybe I'm just ultra-suggestable? But every time a read about food, I. Must. Have it!

I'm pretty sure that if reading professionally were my side hustle, I'd weigh over 390 pounds.

Heather Graham's A Dangerous Game is no exception. What a perfect book to read around St Patrick's day?! It's got all your Irish comfort food and crime fighting shenanigans wrapped in a kelly green bow!

One of my favorite settings for this book is an Irish pub in downtown Ney York City. It's been handed down through the character's family generation after generation. You can imagine those walls have seen all the good and bad that ever happens to these characters. Ms. Graham does an amazing job of taking us there.

And best of all, she has fooood! Shepard's pie, to be exact. A comfort food that I hadn't indulged in for so long, it makes my pallet weep!

Quick side, note, my kids hate, hate, hate shepard's pie. But tonight, I don't care. after reading about it, I'm heading home to bake one huge batch of all that gooey, cheesy, melty yumminess! And I am going to ignore my children's wails and muppet flails of injustice as each spoonful enters my mouth.

A Brave New World

A few things about traveling have always tied my stomach in knots. Images fill my head of racing across an entire airport, doomed to miss my connecting flight, passports vanishing into thin air, my children falling victim to creepy stranger danger, a shore excursion that leaves me in a Mexican prison, the list goes on...then on a bit more.

My failure to launch, fly, or what have you, has been inhibited by these fears on a number of occasions. I travel so seldom, I've been dubbed the official den mother of nearly all plants and pets for my neighbors when they decide to take an impromptu excursion.

"Just ask Kacey," they said. 

"She's always home," they said.

That's right. Home teaching you plants some colorful words and sharing your peanut butter with the dog.
Small side note: I love peanut butter but my son is allergic. So, since I can't have it in my own home, Diem of the Carpe!

When I happened upon an elderly lady just outside my Wednesday stop at Café Rio. My outlook on ravel suddenly changed.
I turned to find my husband bent over the passenger side window of a newer model Cadillac. I felt fairly certain he wasn't drooling over the vehicle. He's a Chevy fan. And I was pretty sure he wasn't offering himself for a date. He's a pretty funny guy, I wouldn't put it past him, but the café rio bag wafting a finger crook of delicious flavor, something else must be amiss.
I bent down beside him for a better look, to find a lovely elderly woman, her soulful blue eyes brimming with tears.
"Can you tell her where the Office Max is," my husband implored.
I looked at him in dismay.
Me? Why me? I'm the queen of misdirection! When faced with a stressful situation, left quickly becomes right and I forget where I live!
I buried my nose in my trusty phone, and in just a few clicks, I had address and directions a glow in my hand.
I showed the sweet lady which direction to head,
"I---I just don't" she sputtered in broken English. She blinked back tears.
I took a deep breath. "I will come with you." I declared. "Is that okay?"
And just like that, we were off.
My husband drove ahead and I prompted her to follow, as she careened down the busy road. Through the drive, I learned of her harrowing encounter with TSA and the near confiscation of her pudding, about her large family she was visiting--who by the way, begged her not go out on her own today.
And I learned she had managed this trip all the way from New York.
This delightful elderly woman had managed this trip all the way from the Big Apple, and not only had she made it here, she came from...there!   One of the scariest places in my country-bumpkin mind!
I have vowed from that moment on, to always consider the bravery of that lovely 75-year-old lady. To understand that although traveling might be a scary thing, it shouldn't stop you from doing what you love.