I don’t always write about writing or my books; I’d bore not only myself, but you. So I like to change things up. Last week was a short story (Little Girl Lost). This week, it’s about my meditation garden. And how it was DETROYED.

I accidentally left the gate open to my garden and the deer munched EVERYTHING (except the brown-eyed Susans, picky little arses). There’s one hanging basket of marigolds. I’m surprised they didn’t yank them out of the dirt, because the spiteful tick bags do that, they don’t like the smell.

So now when I have writer’s block, or need some space from all the testosterone in the house (husband, son, male cat, male bunny), or I want to spend a few moments reconnecting with nature, I can sit on my garden bench. And stare at the devastation.

In my next story, the deer are going to be the bad guys.

And you know what happens to bad guys.

(And I need six more people to sign up for my newsletter/blog and then I can do the giveaway: paperback with special embossed cover, sword bookmark, brass stand):