Thursday, May 18, 2017

The last holder of a legacy

May 18, 2017

Do you ever wonder who will care for the things you love after you're gone? I suppose most folks naturally assume their offspring will. Maybe, but maybe not. Having no spawn of my own, I do wonder. 

I wonder about the younger generation of my own family on their good days. Let's not delve into my thoughts come a bad day. 

I clearly remember my great-grandmother, Mary Ellen. She was of the old Church of the Brethren in Christ that got sucked into the Evangelical United Brethren which in turn was consumed the Methodists to become the United Methodist we know today. She always wore the traditional small white head covering, even under her sun bonnet. I well remember those sun bonnets, too. She had quite a collection, some pieced from leftover quilting fabric. Those patchwork bonnets were worn out in the garden. 

Grandma had a large vegetable garden. She canned and froze everything. I was probably about six when I learned how to make jelly from wild elderberries I'd helped harvest. Every Saturday morning, my grandparents would take my great-grandparents to the city market where they had a booth, and she'd sell canned goods, jams, jellies, quilts, and sun bonnets to the "city folk." 

Interspersed through and around the vegetable garden were her flowers. My great-grandmother, grandmother, and mother traded roots, bulbs, and cuttings all the time. It's thought Mary Ellen brought the small yellow iris home from the city market, probably acquired in a trade with another merchant. 

Today, I'm the last member of the family standing to have these iris. I've offered starts to the younger generation with no takers. I suppose it's difficult to be thrilled about an old tiny iris with the abundance of large, fragrant varieties today. Never mind these heritage iris are mold, mildew and worm resistant when the newer ones are not. And I suppose it's hard to be enthused about a gift from the garden of a woman you didn't know. 

But a flower is all the legacy from Mary Ellen I have to offer. You'll have to excuse me if I cherish it. 


Friday, May 12, 2017

Cover reveal - Passion's Victory

May 12, 2017

Passion's Victory was written quite early in the part of my career where I write as KC Kendricks. It was actually nominated for a CAPA at The Romance Studio back in 2008. Needless to say, I was surprised. It will be re-released within the next few days. I've wanted to get it back out for a long time but it took a while to find the right guys for the cover. Jonas is a deep thinker and they're difficult to find at the cover stock sites. 

For more information, please visit .

About Passion's Victory:

Micah Souther is young, talented, and gay. As the junior owner of the family business, he knows better than to look for love “on the clock.”

Jonas Chadwick is the new guy at the firm. Older, wiser, and a survivor of the school of hard knocks, he’s not in the market for an office romance, even if he learns for certain his young boss is gay.

One kiss is all it takes to send Micah and Jonas on a collision course, and when bodies collide, the friction gets hot...

KC Kendricks 

Friday, May 5, 2017

A Change of Venue

May 5, 2017

Having a dedicated home office is a big perk of being a writer. What's not to love about having one's own space? Since the day we got our first PC, "the computer room" has been in a spare bedroom. When I was first published, I knew I needed a proper workspace.

For many years I worked with cobbled-together furniture. Years. From 2003 until 2014. Three years ago I splurged on decent office furniture and I still love it. It's Mission style, with clean lines that compliment a country chic decor. It turns out, that's a really good thing.

Being that I confess all here at Between the Keys, I suppose I can confess I snapped one evening about two weeks ago. The ballgame was on the tv and Himself was yelling. Deuce was under my desk looking unhappy and I certainly was not pleased with the noise. I'd had a stressful day at work and I wanted QUIET. 

I announced to the house and anyone listening, I was moving to the sunroom. That is to say that, in effect, I was leaving home. The sunroom is an addition to the house, you see. It started life as a small open porch, then it got a roof, and then it was enclosed to be my private sitting room.  I decided it would be my new office space. 
It took thirteen days for me to move all the furniture, install new cordless mini-blinds, and purchase a new daybed for what is once again a spare bedroom. This afternoon I put the finishing touch on the new office. I placed my late grandmother's favorite "hurricane" lamp on the credenza and plugged it in. I think it very appropriate my office has that lamp and my great-grandfather's desk. They remind me of where I came from. 

I've not written much while all the household upheaval took place, but the space is private, sunny, and especially quiet. Deuce has claimed his spot at the sliding glass doors where he can watch for deer and keep an eye on me. I have a Mason jar full of Griller treats in the drawer for him. Strangely enough, the square footage of the room is exactly the same as the room I just vacated. It feels bigger because it's windows on three sides. It's almost like I'm sitting outside. Very cool. 

It's difficult to say whether or not this move to a room of wood and glass will be a boost to my spirits. Perhaps I won't know for sure if this move was the right thing to do until I've weathered all the seasons in my new digs. It could be the long winter evenings will be too long, and too dark, to enjoy being one with the trees. We shall see.