The Council of Twelve series so far includes the first three books in the series.
You can find them here:
Katie is the sweetest angel we can imagine, a fantastic consort, emotionally stable, and still responsible, helpful, and caring. She’s Raphael’s perfect second half.
Sundance is the second female angel we meet in the series. She’s an exceptional angel in many ways, the first warrior angel in three centuries, she is blessed with many gifts and talented beyond her young age.
Zepheira is a strong-willed, stubborn woman, so far the fiercest female character in the series. As a half-angel, she is a raw diamond, and due to her nature, the only one holding Uriel’s fire.
During the entire series, we will recognize recurring characters and meeting new ones; in particular, are we going to meet ‘The Council of Twelve,’ including the twelve most powerful individuals existing, each one of them holding unique talents and powers.
The fight Good vs. Evil is present within each book, the tension climbs higher with each story.
In your opinion, what should happen next? Tell me in the comment. If you have an idea, want to write a short story that you think might fit the series, write it, please and send it to me: firstname.lastname@example.org. Write ‘The Council of Twelve series on Writer’s Treasure Chest’ in the subject line.
I’m still not sure in what category this post belongs. In a way, it’s a health post more than a beauty post. But since beauty and health belong together, it might be both. Then I found out it is a quite ‘clinical’ post… more medical than anything else, and still: at the end I’m talking about a woman’s most private body parts, which makes it very much non-sexual, but still enough to probably belong into the GB version of Augusts blog fest. And that’s why it’s here.
What I said before I find essential to my life. Health and beauty belong together in my opinion. When I feel like a piece of seven-year-old cheese, having a fever, a horrible headache or suffer from constipation, it doesn’t matter how much makeup I plaster my face with, I’m grumpy and unwell, and I won’t be able to shine. I’m miserable, and it shows. A radiant woman is beautiful, a woman who takes care of herself is beautiful. A radiant woman is one who’s healthy and shows it. A woman like this is beautiful. To be and stay healthy, and to make sure we discover early enough if that’s not the case, occasional visits to the doctor belong to our life. But there is this one appointment, no matter how healthy we keep us – this one annual visit – we all hate from the bottom of our hearts.
There is this one picture that’s burned into our thoughts, memories, and brains, forever. That chair. The most hated chair on Earth – and no, it’s not the one at the dentist. It’s the one that’s about 1000 times worse than the dentist’s most valuable possession.
In every woman’s life, there is this one annual medical examination that turns the most peaceful nun into a maddening fury: Her visit to the gynecologist.
You sit in the doctor’s office, talk to your gynecologist for a couple of minutes before he tells you: “Go over there and undress down below.”
You disappear behind that wall and take your pants or skirt and undies off. And I keep asking myself two questions: “My doctor sees everything in only a few moments. What the hell is this wall for?” And: “If ‘undressing my lower regions’ mean everything – what the hell am I going to do with my socks?
Then you take place in that really, really embarrassing chair. You half lean, half sit there in the most unsettling position. And then your gynecologist tells you the first of two standard sentences: “Could you please slide down closer to me.” I always feel like telling him: “Hey, Mister. If I slide down even a couple of inches closer, I’m going to sit on your face! – But who the hell cares. I’m already laying here in the weirdest position you can imagine… go ahead and stick into me whatever you feel like.” Whoops… of course I’d never say that, but I guess, the women who are going through this regularly know what I mean.
He does whatever he has to do to find out if everything is okay. I doubt I need to describe the confusing and often cold touch of the instruments and the uncomfortable feelings. Of course, this examination is necessary and often lifesaving! I am grateful to have the chance to go to these examinations be lucky enough my doctor screens for early detection of a disease or illness! But this doesn’t make it any better.
In the end, the gynecologist usually checks your breasts, which is a good and necessary thing to do as well. But it’s not less embarrassing than the upsetting position in that chair.
I’m positioned there like a stranded whale, and the next thing I hear is the second, deeply disturbing standard sentence: “I’m sorry, my hands are cold.” And here I am, laying as still as I can, thinking with all my mighty thoughts: “Don’t’ get hard, you nipples… relax… Do. Not. Get. Hard.” – Usually, no focus is going to help to avoid the unavoidable. The doctor’s hands are cold! Dammit.
After the examination, you get dressed again, which is probably happening much faster than the undressing, even more, if you decided to keep your socks on.
At my last examination, my gynecologist told me: “You know, I realized you’re my patient for quite some time… let’s see: It’s over 20 years now.” I nodded and looked at him, replying: “Yes, I know. And this makes you officially the longest relationship I was ever in.” He smirked. “Business cooperation you mean?” And my answer was: “Business, yeah, sure, haha. What other man gets that close to me?” He laughed loudly.
And yes, I think it’s a good thing to pick a gynecologist with a good sense of humor!
This post was written and prepared to be published March 1, 2018. But due to the news I got on this very sad day I was editing and publishing it today.
A few years back I had an extremely hard time in my life. It was a phase where nothing turned out the way it was supposed to be according to my plan.
During this time there were so many of my friends standing by my side; not only my friends and family who had been with me for a long time, nearly all my life but also FB friends. Friends I’ve never met in my life, but only met on FB, on other social media, people I could count on and who became real trustworthy connections in the meantime. (I will get back to them in another post!)
One of these people was Katie Jenkins of Magical Designs. Through Katie, I met another amazing woman: Kelley L. Crandall, a writer, and Marketing Specialist.
They both helped me significantly through this time, were in contact with me nearly daily, supported me and gave me advice, suggestions, help, and encouragement.
Since then, Katie became the Mom of beautiful twins, congratulations, Katie! Of course, she concentrates on her family now. But whenever we’re in contact again, I’m still grateful to know her. She’s such a wonderful person!
When I started feeling better, I had been talking on the phone to Kelley, and we talked and talked like women do sometimes. At one point I told her: “I wish I had an editor for my stories, and I wish so much it could be you.” And wonderful, amazing, gold-hearted Kelley said: “I wish that too!”
That is now how I got my editor. Kelley understood the problems I was fighting with – and she understood me. She searched her way through my work, and she even liked my books, which is, in my opinion, a very important thing. (I mean, how can a person edit something if the story isn’t liked?)
Kelley was patient, encouraging and supportive; she was helpful, humorous and an amazing friend! She became a part of my heart!
Today I got the Information that Kelley has passed away. To say I’m sad would be too mild… I’m heartbroken.
Only last week we chatted and today she is no more.
I am thinking of Kelley’s husband David and her children. My thoughts and prayers are with you.
I know, this blog post isn’t particularly long – but today I wanted to thank my friend from the bottom of my heart:
THANK YOU, KELLEY L. CRANDALL!
For everything you did, for your work, your heart, your understanding, and your friendship! You mean a lot to me!
I will never ever forget you, Kelley. You left your love in my Soul. I don’t want to say Goodbye… I want to say: SEE YOU!! You will be sorely missed!!
Thank you very much Story Reading Ape, for mentioning my name when publishing this amazing tribute to women. It’s unique and it touches my heart and I’m sure the hearts of many others too. You’re a gem!
When God created woman he was working late on the 6th day…….
An angel came by and asked.” Why spend so much time on her?”
The lord answered. “Have you seen all the specifications I have to meet to shape her?”
●She must function on all kinds of situations. ●She must be able to embrace several kids at the same time. ●Have a hug that can heal anything from a bruised knee to a broken heart. ●She must do all this with only two hands. ●She cures herself when sick and can work 18 hours a day.
The Angel was impressed” Just two hands…..impossible!
For some time now I realize that very often the book cover varies significantly from the story of a book. Quite pronounced it shows in the genre ‘Historical Romance.’
Now, don’t get me wrong! I don’t mind that much! Unless of course, the story tells us of a golden-haired beauty and the cover shows a black-haired gypsy woman I often don’t care.
I’m not complaining about anything within the book! Very often Historical Romance tells us a story of two loving people in the medieval times, being pushed into an arranged marriage by society and their families and falling in love for the first time. Blessings to them! Falling in love is an exquisite feeling and should be enjoyed.
Let’s see: When I researched for this blog post, I have seen the U.S. covers of some of Virginia Henley’s older books and liked them a lot. By continuing the research, I discovered the German book covers of Virginia Henley’s books and laughed loudly.
Oh – no! Not what you think! I love them. They’re beautiful, they’re artistic, they’re intriguing, and they’re sexy. Just what I’d been expecting of the story. – But they don’t show anything historical in the lady’s dresses as they were around 1300 when the stories are supposed to take place.
Within the story, Virginia Henley talked about wide, flowing robes, made of light and beautiful fabric, unique and sexy, showing the women’s ‘ripe breasts’ and feminine curves.
Let me show you what I’m talking about:
Now, seeing these wonderful dresses on the cover pictures and carrying these images through reading the romance makes the fun twice as nice. Seeing the beautiful sexy ladies and the strong muscular, handsome men and reading about their eternal love makes for an enjoyable time.
At this point now I have to be fair and add that I don’t ‘blame’ Virginia Henley for anything. She’s a great writer, and I enjoyed reading the few books I have from her.
But I’m afraid, right now I have to ruin our dreams of sexy medieval ladies in wide hot high slit dresses of silk and purest sensuality.
The sad truth is that medieval ladies in their gowns looked more like this:
I figure every nun dresses sexier than these medieval ladies. But I as well understand that it would be a little, let’s say, ‘difficult’ for a lady to show yourself as being enormously sexy in a dress where the man of your dreams has to peel you out of that very same dress like an onion.
When it comes to reading a medieval historical romance book, I’m the first one to admit that looking at a book cover like this wouldn’t tickle my ‘need’ to buy that book in the first place, let alone read it.
On the other hand, seeing a book cover like this below and feeling like reading a steamy historical romance would make me buy it immediately.
Now I’m curious: When it comes to historical romance or historical fiction, what do you think? Are we, as writers, permitted to add a little fantasy, a little imagination and a little cheating when it comes to the fashion – either on the cover or within the story? Or should we be very strict in sticking to facts? Please let us know your opinion in the comments.
This is Zoe the Fabulous Feline with a fascinating—and of course, fabulous—topic for today’s story. Today I’d like to speak to you about one of the key differences between men and women. And I’m not talking about the plumbing, although, of course, there is that too.
No, I’m talking about that subject which women treasure and men despise. A subject that women welcome and seek out, while men are struck senseless with confusion and fear at just the thought of it all. I’m talking about talking. Conversation. Communication!
I can hear you from here. You’re just a cat.What can a cat tell us about how women and men communicate? I may be just a cat, but I live with a male human and a female human. What can I tell you about how they communicate? I can tell you in one word—differently. Actually, there are many other words I…