This book is a collection of stories about some of Kaye’s first-time experiences with life’s most natural events. Told through the intimate conversational writing we’ve come to know from this author, poignant personal stepping stones to learning moments are revealed. She encompasses the heart of each matter with sincerity and sprinkled inflections of humor.
From first kiss to first car to walking in the desert with four-inch heels, Kaye’s short coming-of-age stories take us through her awakenings and important moments of growth, often without warning. Some good and some not, life lessons are learned through trial and error, winging it, and navigating by the seat of her pants.
D.G. Kaye was born and resides in Toronto, Canada. She is the author of Conflicted Hearts – A Daughter’s Quest for Solace From Emotional Guilt, Meno-What? – A Memoir, Words We Carry, Have Bags, Will Travel, P.S. I Forgive You, and her newest release – Twenty Years: After “I Do”. Kaye is a nonfiction/memoir writer and writes about her life experiences, matters of the heart and women’s issues.
Kaye writes to inspire others. Her writing encompasses stories taken from events she encountered in her own life, and the lessons that were taken from them. Her sunny outlook on life developed from learning to overcome some of the many obstacles that challenged her. From an emotionally neglected childhood, to growing up with a narcissistic mother, leaving her with a severely deflated self-esteem, D.G. began seeking a path to rise above her issues. When she isn’t writing intimate memoirs, Kaye brings her natural sense of humor into her other works.
D.G. began writing when pen and paper became tools to express her pent-up emotions during a turbulent childhood. Her writing began as notes and cards she wrote for the people she loved and admired when she was afraid to use her voice.
Through the years, Kaye journaled about life, writing about her opinions on people and events and later began writing poetry and health articles for a Canadian magazine as her interest grew in natural healthcare. Kaye became interested in natural healing and remedies after encountering a few serious health issues. Against many odds, D.G. has overcome adversity several times throughout her life.
D.G. began writing books to share her stories and inspiration. Her compassion and life experiences inspire her to write from the heart. She looks for the good and the positive in everything, and believes in paying it forward.
“For every kindness, there should be kindness in return, Wouldn’t that just make the world right?”
D.G.’s Favorite Saying: “Live. Laugh. Love …and don’t forget to breathe!”
When D.G. is not writing, she’s reading. Her favorite genres of reading are: biographies, memoirs, writing and natural health. Kaye loves to read about people who overcome adversity, victories and redemption and believes we have to keep learning–there is always room for improvement! She loves to cook, travel, and play poker (when she gets the chance).
You can find D.G. on social media and her author and blog pages:
I share many memories of my first times with Debby, and the most memorable for me, was my first car and learning to drive it. This was my first taste of independence, and I loved every minute of being behind the wheel.
For The Love of Shoes
Shoes struck a different note with me; however, as being tall, I apparently have rather large feet. Finding shoes that fit has always been a nightmare for me.
First and Last Love
Although I share many of Debby’s Fifteen First Times, I never did find the love of my life, although there were plenty of almosts. I am envious of the love she shared with G and very sad that she must mourn him every single day…
This intriguing book is so many of our lives in a nutshell…
Yesterday, I had the day off from writing and book-related activities. I was determined to catch up on some of those jobs around the house and garden that I have been ignoring of late.
I started the day with a little gentle yoga, more to let my body know I was serious. This set the tone for what turned out to be a very busy day.
I tackled a bedroom wall that had developed mildew over the winter months. I had already scrubbed it down, so it was time to apply some mould-preventing paint. Hopefully, it won’t come back.
Then I changed the carpet strip in the living room doorway. Thanks to Milo using that spot as a scratch pad, the edge of the carpet had frayed, and the existing strip wasn’t wide enough anymore.
After lunch, I ventured out into the garden. To be fair, I stood there for several minutes, wondering where to start. There are so many things to do out there that my brain didn’t have any idea what would be first. I decided on the worst job of all, mowing the lawn. Something my ageing back strongly objected to, but I rested every time I emptied the cuttings. Once that job was out of the way, I was feeling a little smug, so I sprayed all the weeds on the patio.
I worry about myself sometimes, as my love of killing things is usually reserved for my stories.
A quick check of the bonsai confirmed the next round of repotting for some of them was overdue, but not today. I thoroughly watered everything and called it a day. I hadn’t done nearly enough, in my opinion, but it was a start!
I thought I deserved a quiet, restful evening, but that never happened. The minute I collapsed onto the couch, my hands itched to write. I managed to finish a new post and the best part of a chapter…
DI David Snow has another killer to catch, a killer as mysterious as the crimes he commits.
Betrayal and lies come to the surface as Snow struggles to find the truth, but is he looking in all the wrong places?
Can he outwit the killer, or will the truth cost him his life?
Excerpt from CrossFire
‘Do you know why we have brought you here today, Ann?’
Ruth thought she would ease her way in rather than accuse her straight off; triggering any hostility wouldn’t get them anywhere.
The woman stared at Ruth, her pale, colourless eyes searching for clues. ‘Nah… but I ‘spect you’ll get to it pretty quick…’
Ruth indicated a brown paper bag on the table beside her. ‘We found a pair of work boots at your house, Ann. According to your husband, they’re not his. Are they yours?’
Ann Taylor glared at Ruth. She seemed to be enjoying the interview, her arrogance showing through her previous nervousness. ‘Dunno, can’t see them, can I?’
Ruth undid the bag and placed the dirty boots on the table. Most of the mud had dried and fallen off but still didn’t seem like the kind of boot a woman would wear. ‘Are these your boots, Ann?’
Without looking at the boots, she shook her head. ‘Nah, I don’t think so.’
Ruth looked at Snow, but not for confirmation. She wondered why he was choosing to stay silent. What was the point of sitting in if he wasn’t going to contribute? Not that she cared, one way or the other. She had only looked at him to signify inclusion.
She looked back at the woman. ‘Are you quite sure, Ann?’
The woman shrugged her shoulders and refused to speak.
‘For the benefit of the tape, Ann Taylor has refused to answer.’
Ruth decided to read out the coroner’s report, detailing every bruise and damage to the child’s body. When she read the part about the boot imprint on the child’s back, she slid the photograph across the table in front of the mother.
‘Did you do this, Ann?’
When the woman didn’t answer, Ruth decided it was time to play the ace card, and she looked forward to it. This cold-hearted bitch of a woman was about to be arrested, but not before Ruth had enjoyed herself. ‘Are you aware that the person who wore these boots would have left significant DNA inside them?’
Ruth paused, watching as the realisation sunk in. ‘And are you also aware that we have tested your DNA, and it has been proved that you are the owner of these boots?’
The fear and shame were beginning to show on the woman’s face, and Ruth watched, wondering what she would do now. She didn’t have to wait long to find out.
Ann Taylor’s face seemed to implode as the terror of being found out took effect. ‘I swear I don’t remember that part… I know I were angry, but when she fell over and banged her head, I thought she was dead…’
‘So what did you do then, Ann?’ Ruth knew what had happened next but not which one of them had done it. ‘Were you aware that Amy was still alive when you dropped her into the canal?’
The horror was all-encompassing as the woman realised the enormity of what she had done. She looked around the room, just once, before she started screaming…
This story from Anita has long been one of my favourites, about a huge bear of a man called Simple. He loves to be in the forest at home among all the towering trees, away from all the people who torment him because of his size, his slowness, and his stutter.
I thought I would print an excerpt to introduce him to you properly…
Gran stormed across the clearing, bending to pick up a stick from the ground without breaking her stride. Simple, sitting against the wood pile, was in for another of her beatings. I yelled for him to run, but he didn’t hear me. Lost in one of his daydreams I guessed.
I watched in silence as Gran repeatedly swung the stick hard against the side of her son’s head. There were no words to describe Simple’s pain, or the pain of watching. He probably didn’t even know what it was for and I hated her for making me feel all the things he couldn’t say. He didn’t move or look her in the face, not until she let the stick drop from her bony fingers did he feel safe enough to close his eyes. He slowly put his hands to his battered head, blood pushing its way through the gaps in his dirty fingers…
I know I edited this book, so you could say I am a bit biased, but I don’t think so. I really love the story, even though it has savagely cruel elements involving hatred and violence. But all of these elements are finely balanced with so much emotional determination and caring by Simple’s sister, Leanne, that you get torn every which way as you read it.
This book is a roller coaster of a read but one that has been very hard to categorise. Mainstream publishers really couldn’t figure out what to do with it. They loved it but…
There always seems to be a but, doesn’t there?
I would love to hear if you could love it as much as I do…
Here is the latest review for Simple…
5.0 out of 5 starsLife’s Choices
Simple is a story told by a young girl living in the woods with her family, which is made up of mostly harsh characters, who are contrasted by Simple, and then later Amber. It’s a story of love and loss and family and living with the decisions we have made. I had a very hard time putting this book down. I got the majority of it read in one day because I just had to know what all the mystery was. It snags you right away, and holds you tight for the ride. There were some harsh moments in the book, as well as some gems that made me think about life. Overall, what a great book! Well written characters, good depth of detail, and a driven plot.
Today, I am very pleased to report that I have suddenly found myself in that envious position of being totally obsessed with my WIP, The Mystery of Folly’s End.
It is constantly at the front of my mind, obscuring all others. Well, almost all of the others! Normally, at this time of year, I am seed-watching in the garden. Dropping everything to see if anything has sprouted, literally every few minutes, if I am honest.
After so many weeks of going through the motions, re-reading the existing chapters until almost sick of the sight of it. Worrying myself to death that it would never be good enough, and/or what on earth was I doing? To finally see the golden light at the end of the tunnel. I couldn’t be happier.
The one thing that was worrying me was I couldn’t find a twist for the ending. My characters were almost as good as I could make them but for the villain of the piece. That problem resolved itself this morning when a daddy of a notion dawned on me. Sorry, no spoilers from me, but I am so excited!
There is nothing like being in an amazingly good mood, to suddenly find more time for everything else, is there? And heaven knows, the list of must-dos is getting longer. In very small increments, I am slowly wading through the list, all the while desperate to get back to my writing.
Wishing writers everywhere a fabulous surge of enthusiasm too!
I love macro photography, so today you have two images because I couldn’t choose between them.
Also having trouble deciding what to do this week. Last week was almost a total washout, but I did work on the current WIP, so not all doom and gloom. I finally managed to plant some seeds yesterday, and if the rain holds off, there are other urgent jobs to do.
If I could only remember where I left my thinking cap…
Grateful thanks to all of your helpful suggestions, especially those from Audrey, Darlene, John and Annette…
The new, improved blurb
Where do you go when you’re in a coma?
A car loses control and mows Maggie down in the street, changing her life forever. She never liked her life, but when she ends up in a coma, she fights desperately to wake up to the sound of her husband’s voice.
Lost in the world of the coma, unable to communicate, she is forced to witness the bitter truth of her old life. In this dark place, she rescues an abused and terrified child, determined to take her home.
Trapped between life and death, Maggie doesn’t know what is real or a dream. She needs to wake up to change her life and help this child.
But is this possible if forced to stay in a nightmare world?
But will I pay for another blurb?
Maybe not. This exercise, and the helpful responses we received, have taught us so much.
We have ten more blurbs to check, improve and/or rewrite. Hopefully, the write angels are on our side this time!
Well, I went ahead, out of sheer desperation, I might add, and paid for a professional blurb for Anita’s wonderful story, The Scarlet Ribbon. This is part of our general improvement campaign.
I am not sure how I feel about the result, to be honest, but I know I can rely on our good friends to point me in the right direction.
The Original Blurb on Amazon
When a car loses control and mows Maggie down, leaving her in a coma, her life changes dramatically in an instant, and she finds herself in another world.
A world where she rescues a sad, neglected and abused child from a violent situation, but when it looks as though Maggie will wake up in her own world, she has to find a way to bring the child back with her.
Is this other world real, or was she only dreaming, locked in the prison of her coma?
And if it is real, can she save the child?
One of my efforts ??
Will love take Maggie to the place she was meant to be…
A car loses control and mows her down in the street, changing her life forever.
She finds herself lost in another world, unable to communicate
Forced to witness the bitter truth of her old life.
She rescues an abused and terrified child, determined to take her home
But how is this even possible if she has to stay in this nightmare world?
The Blurb I Paid For…
Where do you go when you’re in a coma?
Maggie doesn’t like her life, but when she ends up in a coma after a runaway car knocks her down, she finds herself fighting for it. Fighting to wake up to the sound of her husband’s voice that she keeps hearing but is unable to respond to.
However, when the darkness of the coma takes her to another world, Maggie starts fighting for a lot more.
There’s a child in that world, a neglected and abused girl in a horrible situation. Maggie doesn’t hesitate to rescue her but is unsure what to do next. She needs to leave this strange world and wake up – and hopefully change a lot in her life; she didn’t even realize how bad it became – but what about the girl? She can’t just leave her there!
Trapped between life and death, Maggie can’t determine what’s real and what’s just a dream her comatose brain is producing while struggling to heal. But if it is real, can she find a way to bring the girl back with her?
Can she save the child that desperately needs her?
Over to you my friends, and please be brutally honest, my blurb writing days are depending on you…
I managed to plant that hydrangea yesterday and spent some time arranging and tidying up at least one of the unruly flower beds in our garden. I worked slowly and methodically, with plenty of sit-downs in between. I wanted to cut the grass, but although the sun shone for most of the day, I knew it was still far too wet to cut.
The amount of work that needs to be done is overwhelming and depressing if I am being honest. Judging by my performance yesterday, it will take more than a month of Sundays to get it all done. Surprisingly, being stubborn isn’t helping, for I can only go as far as my body will allow. Hopefully, slow and steady will win the race.
This approach is not helping on the writing front, however. Committing words and ideas to paper is one of the few things I can do with any speed and comfort, but lately, that has slowed down to a crawl too. I try to tell myself it isn’t me, it must be the story, but I don’t really believe it. I have tried reading the completed chapters and all the character material several times lately, but it wasn’t until this morning that a germ of an idea paid me a visit. Someone had written a post about how to handle your villains when it suddenly occurred to me that I hadn’t decided on the bad boy for the new story yet. I had a few candidates, but nothing concrete.
I was seven chapters in on The Mystery of Folly’s End, so the villain should have made his presence known by now, so why hadn’t he?
This is where my usual method has let me down. Normally, my characters, once created, get on with it, often dictating who does what, where and with whom. A case in point: one of my favourite characters, DI David Snow, has been nagging me lately with a brilliant idea for a new mystery thriller, for him, of course. I have to admit to being more than a little interested, so was I deliberately dragging my heels on MFE?
It’s not supposed to rain today, but I won’t be cutting that blessed grass. I have something better to do…