I’m amazed that summer is almost over. Where did it go? Not on vacations. Who has time for them? My breaks from writing are short trips to the front yard when I take my dogs out and nearly always something I enjoy. Often, not every time because my head is too full of the story I left behind to answer my dogs, insistence they need a break, I think of the phrase ‘Stop and smell the roses.’
This last week walking out the door is akin to stepping into one of those animated scenes from Disney with butterflies floating across the screen. I don’t know what kind those inhibiting my yard are, don’t really care. They’re beautiful, oranges, blacks, and yellow, all different sizes. My butterfly bush, appropriately named, draws them in. They do share the space with the hummingbirds. Those fascinating little critters I could watch for hours. For their size, they are such militant creatures. Watching them chase each other off from the feeder I wonder how they ever manage to eat. I’ve nearly had hummingbirds in my hair on several occasions when they’ve been so engrossed in their battles they didn’t veer off until the very last foot to avoid a collision.
An added entertainment, on our short sojourns away from the refrigerated air and my computer, is one of my dogs has a thing about hummingbirds. Both my dogs are Maltese, a rescued pair I took when their owner had to move and couldn’t take them with them. Necco is the clown, but being nearly blind, I don’t believe he even sees the birds. Guy, on the other hand, takes their presence as some manner of invasion. Not like he could ever catch one, but he barks and chases them—as long as he can keep them in sight. They pop up into the air, hover, and stare down at him. Not sure of that white, noisy blob, no doubt not knowing the difference between a dog chasing aimlessly or a cat capable of springing after them, they fly off. He feels he’s done his duty in protecting the home land and trots off to bark at something else.
One bird, however, has the dog figured out. The feeder is at one end of the walk, the yard gate at the other. The bird, a brilliant colored male, takes off down the walk. Guy scrambles in pursuit until he reaches the gate. I laugh. Guy is at the gate barking in the direction he last saw the bird going. The bird, usually before Guy even reaches the walk, hangs a sharp left at the pine tree just beyond the gate, flies around the butterfly bush, and while Guy is at the gate barking, he’s sipping his full at the feeder. It’s the little things in life that entertain—when you’re not reading a good book.
About the Author:Larriane Wills, a multi-genre author, also writes under the name of Larion Wills. From science fiction to western romances she holds up to her tag of ‘two names, one author, thousands of stories.’
Born in Oklahoma, but raised in Arizona she feels a native to the state and has settled in the high desert country. In a quiet, rural area with a family who tolerates her writer’s single-mindedness, she presents us with unique science fiction and fantasy while under Larion Wills still produces western and contemporary romances, many laced with paranormal settings, all with strong characterizations and suspenseful plots capable of dragging you into a story in a genre you thought before you didn’t care for. At her website, http://www.larriane.com you can keep abreast of releases under both pen names, keep up with new releases through various publishers, and she invites you to contact her at email@example.com
Larriane Wills AKA Larion Wills
two names, one author, thousands of stories
COMING SOON Bonds of Time
Judith gave up on the world long before those fools destroyed it. She didn’t run out of her forest looking for survivors, didn’t seek out those she knew of. She wanted nothing to do with any human until Garth fell out of the sky. He aroused one emotion she had left, curiosity. Where did he come from and how did he get there? Why did he have a perfect adult body and the mind of a child? What terrified him? To get the answers she must first educate him and then protect him from the survivors down the mountain, wanting a healthy, mature male to rebuild the human race.