Tag Archive | grandparents

And Then She Said. . .

We went to the doctor, grandest and I, a blip on the perfection of her lovely skin. Yesterday evening was the Christmas Pageant at her school. Grandest had the part of an angel. Hmm. A devil? No, an angel. A quick nap required on my couch and the she changed before daughter arrived. There stood a lanky beauty before me. No more little child. She’s blossomed into a girl of beautiful proportions, long legged, athletic with personality. Thank you dear God for letting me live to see her like this. Here is a picture in costume at the Pageant.

Grandest, my angel.

Enjoy every moment , Grandparents. I do.


6/14/15 WEWRIWA

Welcome to the best blog hop in town where writers post 8-t0 sentences in a snippet and are bombarded with sincere constructive critique. Yes, you heard me, folks, because we all want to help each other improve our writing. So here goes.

Lat week in my story Spreading Her Wings, a family problem is resolved. Wealthy father realizes daughter has plans of her own and agrees to respect her ideas. Ah fiction. Don’t you love it!Intrepid reporter Sally Kirkwood calls her lecherous boss on the way back to River’s Edge. She has an idea for a story to use on his cable television station. Little does she know he still has a thing for her.


Lance Jordan, the smooth talker picked up, his sensual voice reminding her of last spring when they almost got involved and she said no.
“Are you ready to say yes?”
“Let’s talk business, boss, because I just witnessed quite a scene at the Shubert Theatre with a major backer for the new production, his daughter, and the producer with threats and just about everything.I learned that Johnny Epstein’s the producer and he needs a major backer or a conglomerate interested in investing in the show so he’s not beholden to this other backer with the kid.”
“ I’ll call my connections and get back to you, now what’s your angle on an interview?”
“I’m thinking about what goes on backstage, how it hurts the talented kids when a backer pushes a girlfriend or someone close with no talent into the lead.
“And the name of the play is. . .”
“Damned if I know.”

The voice of Lance Jordan could be heard saying, “Damned if I Know is a terrible name for a play.”

for more snippets from talented writer:


SHW ereader with hands

Spreading Her Wings
Kindness to Strangers in River’s Edge rubs off on all who live there. Sally Kirkwood responds to an emergency call from a friend one early morning. A daughter is missing and with Sally’s skill as a reporter, she finds her at an audition in NYC. Thus begins an adventure of show business, unfaithfulness, forgiveness and success.

Also Available as Singles for all Ebook reading devices!

And Then She Said. . .

Grandest and I rushed off to gymnastics last week. In her bag lay a new bright blue top with many straps, very stylish. I picked her up at an after school program, dragged, nagged her to run to my car and zoomed away. “Uh Grans. I’m changing and I didn’t get to buckle up yet so pull over and stop.”

This from the seven year old mouth of my girl who knows , apparently way more than her Grans. So I did as told. She changed, advised me to drive on and we got there just in time.

Watching through the window, I saw the coach adjust the straps of her new top. It comes to this, I thought. The once competent woman can no longer even fix the straps right. Geez. Later, watching through the window as allowed and tired from writing, I saw an older girl helping her with a move on the trampoline. How nice, I thought.

On the way home grandest told me about the older girl who showed her some moves. And then she said. . .”Speaking of OLD, Grans” . . .and we cracked up over the inference of my age.

This conversation resulted in me explaining age is good and important and as much fun as the two of us have, we should be grateful I’m here. My own Mom didn’t last past age 50 and Bud, my first hubs, died at 58. “So,” I said, “Don’t be embarrassed to tell my age to your friends.”

Many hugs and kisses and then we played kick ball until daughter came home.65191_4183432700510_2056845522_nA grandparents love and responsibility to teach and love

Where would we be without us?

As a new widow years ago, I met many nice men playing the “Getting to Know You Game.” At one point, I thought enough already. I’ll remain a widow and just be a grandmother and then fate stepped in and I met the man to become my second husband. No more just me and memorizing scripts working on the next play or auditioning for another job. I had a someone to keep me company and keep me warm. It took a lot of adjustment but we made it work because we wanted to be together.

Marriage is one long conversation. He learned to communicate. Not easy to change when you’re older but he managed. We’ve been through a lot of thick, a bit of thin to balance and here we are in our eighties. Grandest has two grandparents to pitch in when daughter calls and enjoy our six and a half year old’s antics.

I wrote a book titled Now What? Similar in some ways to my trying to be comfortable as a single in my doubles world. I cried a lot, laughed a lot, during the writing. If you know me, you’ll nod your head and say, “Yes, that’s what she does.” Enjoying every moment of every day is my motto and survive and thrive no matter what.  Did you ever notice how many time a day people say, “Now What? or What Now?” My first husband and I said that every time a change came into our lives. Thirty seven years married and five years best friends. . .a lot of Now What’s.

Now What?

“NOW WHAT?” begins with a scene so personal, never meant to be told, but it took charge as I cried, laughed and typed.
Because this is out of my comfort zone, I’m going to introduce Carly Evans. Yes, Carly is a fictional character, the protagonist of NOW WHAT? who comes alive in the story.

It was 2:30 a.m. when the phone rang. I fumbled for it, my heart starting a race toward bad news.
Our doctor’s voice urged me to hurry. I crammed into clothes as if I expected this call.
It is only a fever that won’t go down, isn’t it?

Our doctor shook his head. “. . .Carly, I’m so sorry.”

He lay on the hospital bed where I’d kissed him goodbye not so many hours before. I’d said, “See you tomorrow.” My husband of thirty years replied with words I hadn’t heard in a long time. “I love you.” Not since the heart attack two years before when he began listening to his heart beat and forgot about me. Maybe we both sensed the crossroads ahead, the impending doom.
Settling in beside my Bob, I held his cooling hand and asked the two words spoken many times during our years together. “Now what?” This time there was no response. I was on my own for the first time.

When my fingers touched his wedding ring, I slipped it off and held it in my fist. The gold band was warm.
“Come back to me, dearest.”

Sometimes what you wish for is more than possible.                   Now What newstyle 3D
Now What? by Charmaine Gordon



June is Audiobooks Month! Celebrate with The Beginning… Not the End, Volume 2 by Charmaine Gordon

VHP Book Tours

TBNTE V 2 CVR audiographic w headphones

The Beginning…Not the End, Volume 2

Three Stories of Mature Love, Passion, & Suspense

by Charmaine Gordon

Three more stories in the Charmaine Gordon series of Mature Romance combined in one volume. No Time for Green Bananas, Book 4; She Didn’t Say No, Book 5; and Dr. D and the Dad, Book 6. These Charmaine Gordon stories of love, passion, and suspense starring sexy seniors are also available as singles in all ebook editions.

Green Bananas CVR for ARe

No Time for Green Bananas

Celeste Hamlin, seventy-five year old widow, has a goal… conquer the six mountains in the Saranac Lake region before deciding what to do with the rest of her life. Sixty-two year old Professor Paul Harris, meets the dynamic Celeste, and recalls the last words his wife said before she passed. “Find another love and begin again.” Will they begin again?

Say No CVR ARe

She Didn’t Say No

Grace didn’t say…

View original post 170 more words

And Then She Said. . .

T’was the night before the last day of school  before Christmas vacation and grandest and I hunched over one last page of homework. I didn’t get it. She looked at me with those big blue eyes. “Mommy could do it.”

“Mommy’s not home so let’s get this finished. But I don’t get it.”

Her eyes narrowed no longer sweet and delicious. “I. Am. In. Kindergarden.” You are in nowhere school, Granny. So I know what this is.”

“I went to kindergarden all the way through high school and college, raised a bunch of children including your smart Mommy, acted in movies and in plays and now I write books.”

We had a stare down. Apparently grandest wasn’t impressed. She finished the page, her mom came home and she left me at the table wondering what  just happened.



And Then She Said. . .further adventures from my grandest.

Waiting for the school bus, I hung on to the mail box to practice shuffle, hop, step- a basic tap step learned when I was about four. Four no more and a new hip, I can shuffle and step. The hop is gone replaced by a feeble lift of my heels. Oh well. At my age I don’t care what daughter’s neighbors say or care, I sang Sweet Geogia Brown to myself and practiced for about fifteen minutes until the the big yellow bus pulled up. Grandest ran into my arms almost knocking me over, waved to the driver and kids and talked endlessly.

As soon as I closed the door, she had a serious look on her sweet face, the same child who passed her high white belt test at Taekwando last Saturday and did a victory dance after.photo (6)

“Grans, I’m worried about kissing a boy on the lips.”

“Any special boy?”

“No, it just sounds yucky. Can I  have Mac and cheese. I have homework to do.” Mutitasking, she finished both food and homework and she suggested we go outside to play.

“Cool,” I said. We built a leaves and twigs thingy with stones sprinkled on top and then she ran to the big trampoline and scooped fallen leaves in a piles and fell into them. Suddenly she did a cartwheel.

“Honey, that’s a perfect cartwheel. Do it again.” I showed her how to breathe, stand and move. She worked on it for half and hour. Tenacious, my grandest.  You see why I plan to keep my job for many years?

My Mature Romances are written for a reason. They prove, since I’m a senior with lots of experience, that life isn’t over until the final curtain. Meanwhile, enjoy every blessed moment, smile a lot and people usually respond. Stay close to your loved ones if possible.

If you enjoy reading as much as I do, please check out The Beginning. . .Not The End, my first three stories of Mature Romance.



all 3 for print cover

10/13/13 WEWRIWA A Community of Writers and readers

Hi Gang. Here we are again with stories to share on Sunday. Love it. Today, I continue with one more eight from Before the Final Curtain. This is the last eight from the third of my series of Mature Romance, The Beginning. . .Not The End.

In this eight, the two stars, Becca Morgan and Chris Williams, are on  the Drama Bus traveling to NYC for the first read-thru of “Honor Thy Mother, Please” a new comedy with a heart. They talk about their past history and read the first scene in the play.


Chris reads the stage directions. He’s not in this scene.: The play begins with a lot of action, background mumbling, moving furniture as a bewildered Becca stands stage left watching her belongings brought downstairs to the lower level of her home. Her daughter Laura and son-in-law Max are moving in and taking over. Chris laughs at the first line in the play.

Becca: “Basement? I don’t live in the basement.”

Laura: “It’s not the basement, Mom, it’s the lower level.”

Becca: “So why don’t you live there?”

Laura: “Mom, we need more room, there are two of us and. . .”

Becca: “Thanks for reminding me, honey, I almost forgot your daddy died.”

Laura: “And Max needs space for an office so it will be just fine, you’ll see.”

Chris cuts in and says, “I love you, I mean I love it, I mean I do love you, Becca.”

“ I’m not into anything but truth with no bullshit allowed, Chris”

“The whole truth and nothing but, dear heart and before the final curtain, you will know.”

for more snippets:                                                                            Before the Final Courtain with theme border


Once lovers, aging actors collide on stage as stars in a romantic comedy written and directed by a manipulative director. Add to the mix the talented assistant, a tough stage manager, one prominent costume designer, two young actors, secrets and gossip. Show business. There’s no business like it.

From the new  series The Beginning…Not the End.

Mature Love, Romance, Suspense.

All Electronic Formats



Smashwords for All Ebook Formats

And Then She Said. . .thoughts about endless motherhood

563409_3560430205837_702903385_n321166_4210211089953_1444042931_nWhen I said, “I do,” in 1952, I had no idea I’d still be saying those words in 2013. I’m still a girl, an old girl at this time, who can’t say no. It all began when # 1 son needed a report on Joseph McArthy, the evil senator who claimed there were communists under every bed and he was swamped with work. Uh, huh. I fell for it and since I was taking a course at Rockland Community College, I took out some books and put together a nifty report. He got an A. Hooray for me.

This established a pattern. “Mom can do it.” Next, I read an indecipherable book about four Japanese sisters and their travails and wrote a book report for my youngest son. Another A. Truly, I never did this well in college.

Then there was the time daughter didn’t have time to draw yet another picture for an art class necessary to complete college credits. She worked, attended school and was otherwise engaged. Mom rose to the occasion.

While playing with my grandest yesterday late afternoon, daughter called. Her voice urgent, she said, ” Mom, she needs a picture of her favorite food for tomorrow. And it’s grilled cheese. Please draw a picture of a grilled cheese sandwich. I’ll be home in ten minutes.” She disconnected. Now I’m asked to do my granddest granddaughter’s homework. For kindergarden. Of course I drew a great sandwich on a flowered plate. I hope she gets an A. The cycle continues. Is it any wonder we’re called Grand parents.


If you’ve had experiences similar to mine, please ‘fess up and let’s have a good laugh.

The Beginning. . .not The End

It’s been said “Write what you know” and I’m having way too much fun as we speak writing Mature Romance short stories. Starting with Instant Grandpa, please join me as two seniors meet by chance and fall in love.


Summer at the Jersey Shore just got hotter…  Take one widower grandfather, add two little grandkids, and a IG CVR FBnE logo 1-2widowed   grandmother with a small granddaughter. Mix well. Stir in sun drenched beach days and moonlit nights. What have you got? A kite flying high with a new tail; an author writing a book to sort out emotions; a talented boy with his mother returned to claim the prize. Family complications and a happy beginning… not the end.