To the best military spouse and mom around!

This post is going live a little later than I'd wanted it to. Sometimes life gets in the way. In this case, I've been traveling so much the past 2 months that my dog has developed an attachment disorder.

But I digress...

Yesterday was Military Spouse Appreciation Day and tomorrow is Mother's Day. And my blog post day falls squarely in between. So like any good daughter, my thoughts turn to my mother. Hey! I try to be a good daughter. I made the ultimate sacrifice of spending a long weekend in an oceanfront condo so that I could be with my mother on her birthday. If that's not a good daughter, I don't know what is!

I keep digressing...

By the time my parents married, my father had been in the Air Force for 10 years, well on his way to making it a career. As a college senior, I doubt she knew what she was getting into, marrying into the Air Force. Especially when, less than 2 years later, she had to move to Madrid with a 6 month old pain in the neck who turned into a toddler PITA (me). But she sucked it up and dealt with it, because that's what military spouses do.

This is my mom and dad in Spain (aren't they the best looking couple!). I'd tell you that this is a picture of my parents on their wedding day, but that would annoy my mother and as a good daughter, I'd never dream of annoying my mother. For the record, it was their second wedding. 

Any way, about 3 months ago, I posted a picture of my brother. It was his birthday and as his big sister, it is my job to torment him relentlessly. I'm really good at my job.

The fun thing about old pictures is that they come with stories. So my mom told me the story behind this picture. It was my brother's 6 month birthday party. We had it when I got home from school because daddy was TDY...huh? what? Back up the train. Daddy was TDY? I don't remember Daddy being TDY after Tony was born.

And then it hit me. That's what military spouses do. They keep the family fires burning. The keep the routines in place. The keep the children living typical children's lives. When there's absolutely nothing normal about your parent being done for months or even a year at a time. But they suck it up and deal with it, because that's what military spouses do.

So here's to my favorite military spouse and the best mom ever - Liz Forella!

To all the military spouses and moms out there, grab your favorite book and enjoy!

Happy Reading!

Felicia

Once a brat, always a brat

I thought I'd share a little insight about myself, something I've discovered in the last week or so.

I was an Air Force brat from the day I was born. And I'm damn proud of it. Before my father retired, I'd lived in South Carolina, Spain, Arizona, South Carolina, West Virginia, Louisiana, and North Carolina. Had my father not retired when he did, our next stop would have the Philippines. Instead, it was Pennsylvania.

No matter where we lived, my mother made our house into a home. The Air Force isn't known for its celebration of architecture or interior design. Look up and down the block and the same finite number of styles are repeated. No matter what our house looked like on the outside, inside was ours for as long as we lived there. Special pieces carried special memories that made every place a home. I always felt at home. My mom rocked at giving us a home.

As a result of moving and the positive experiences that went with the moves, I always thought I didn't have any ties to any particular house. That the structure wasn't as important as the people in it. Any place could be a home with love and family in residence.

But I've learned something about myself. There are two houses that were my "home base" as I grew up. Places that never changed. Places were I knew what to expect whenever we showed up. Places where I knew who to expect.

Where were these amazing places? The homes that managed to capture me in a way no other place could? They were my grandparents' homes in West Virginia and New York.

Recently, I had to go to New York to go through my grandparents' house. My uncle lived in it for the 30 years since my grandparents passed, but it was still my grandparents' house. I walked around sharing memories with my husband and my brother-in-law. When all they wanted to do was pack up what I wanted and get out of New York. When all I wanted to do was sit on the couch and remember all the wonderful memories.

But what I couldn't understand was why this was hitting me so hard. After all, my grandparents have been gone for 30 years and my uncle made changes to make the house his own.

As I processed and focused, I realized the importance my grandparents' houses had on me growing up. And my much younger Air Force brat self still clings to them and what they were and what they meant. And I'm OK with that.

We are all products of our childhood. Mine started out as a part of an amazing culture. I wouldn't change that for anything. Part of my childhood snuck into my present and gave me an opportunity to learn a little more about myself and the impact being a brat has had on me. And I'm glad it did.

So share! Have you lived in many places? The same place? Do you have a favorite?

Happy reading!!

Felicia

Of Christmases Past

This is the story of a family left behind when their Airman deployed to Vietnam and a little girl who still believed in Santa Claus. A little girl not so very different from the military brats of this generation.

For family members who have a better memory of this than me, don't rain on my parade! I was little, memories are faulty.

We were stationed at Myrtle Beach Air Force Base when my dad received orders to deploy. It was my dad, my mom, me, and my infant brother. So my mom, my brother, and I left the warm sunny climes of South Carolina to go live with my maternal grandparents in West Virginia. I remember the day my dad left. Being in avionics maintenance, my father was stationed in Thailand during his time in South East Asia.

Skip ahead to the Christmas season. For the school Christmas pageant, my class did a dance to "Rocking Around the Christmas Tree." I still remember the darn thing and if you see me when that song comes on the radio, you'll see my spastic feet moving. But really, I'm just dancing the routine. And spastic is in the eye of the beholder.

It's Christmas Eve at my grandparents and the tree is in the front window. I think there's snow on the ground. Like most kids, I didn't want to go to sleep, but knew I had to so Santa Claus could come. I have no idea how long I was asleep, but something woke me up. Wide awake. It was still dark out, so I didn't think it was Christmas morning. Plus, I could hear talking downstairs. Definitely not morning. Being the nosy person I still am, I went exploring.

I don't remember who all was downstairs, but I remember that my Aunt Jeannie (my mom's youngest sister) was missing. When I asked my mom where she was, my mom told me that she'd gone outside to check out Santa on the roof! Now we know what woke me up!

Of course I wanted to go check, but my mom tried to hustle me off to bed. But I KNOW I heard sleigh bells as I went up the stairs. Try going back to sleep after that bit of excitement!

Cut to Christmas morning and the celebratory gift giving. I only remember one gift I got that Christmas. It was wrapped under the tree and it said "From Daddy."

From Daddy??? All the way from Thailand? Inside that beautifully wrapped box was a yellow nightgown. It had a thicker bodice made of a looped material and a soft skirt. I wore that nightgown until I outgrew it and the loops stretched out. I wore that nightgown long after my father came home.

I kept that nightgown long after I outgrew it. It had a place of honor in my dresser drawer, surviving the purge that accompanied every move - from West Virginia to Louisiana, to North Carolina to Pennsylvania. I couldn't get rid of it. My father gave it to me.

Fast forward to high school. I was putting away clothes and my mother walked in my room. Probably to make sure I was actually putting them away and not just piling them around the room. She noticed the nightgown in my drawer.

"Why do you still have that?"

"Because Daddy gave it to me for Christmas when he was in Thailand."

"You do realize that he didn't actually send that to you from Thailand, don't you?'

"Ha! The next thing you'll be telling me is that Santa Claus isn't real."

Our Military Members Deserve Better

Fuck. Not again.

That's the first thing I thought when I heard the news out of Ft. Hood last week. Since we're here because of our support of our military (and our love of our military romances), I hope you'll forgive me if I hop up on my soapbox.

When the first shooting happened (I never thought I'd have to refer to it as "first"), I was in class, studying to be a trauma therapist. We heard the news during break and spent the second half of class discussing the situation. I have since completed my training, focusing on the military and children in foster care/adoption.

And I was frustrated then as I am now. Of course, we know now that the first shooting was not committed by a soldier suffering from PTSD, although that was the assumption in the class that night. This time, the evidence points toward a soldier with mental health issues. Time may give us a better picture of the nature of his issues.

But regardless of the exact reason, it brings the weaknesses in the military's mental health system back to the front of my mind.

Mental illness in the military in epidemic in nature. Jessica Scott dealt with the topic in her recent book, All For You. If you haven't read Jessica, you should! Anyway, the suicide rate is off the charts. Military suicide rates far exceed civilian rates. I think this shooting is part of the same problems that are leading to the high suicide rates. The realistic part of me is surprised there aren't more shootings like last week's.

The programs are out there. Programs that work. Programs that help prevent PTSD from gaining a foothold. They need to be made available to all soldiers in theater and back home. Better yet, it needs to be mandatory to remove the stigma of going for help.

Our men and women deserve it. They volunteer to don the uniform to protect us. They take on dangerous situations for crappy pay because they want to, because they believe in what they do. For that service, they deserve to be taken care of. They deserve better.

They give us their all. How can we give them any less?

Stepping off soapbox now.

On a very happy note, today is my mother's birthday! So if you see Liz Forella running around, wish her a very happy birthday!!

And while I'm wishing happy birthday, my grandmother's birthday was last Saturday. Not that I'd ever divulge her age, but I can assure you she looks damn good!!

Both of these pictures were taken at my son's wedding last year. Just thought you'd like to know. :)

Happy reading!!

Felicia

Military Spouses

What does it take to be a military wife?

I've been thinking about that quite a bit lately since my son, an LT in the USAF, is getting married at the end of the month.  It's either think about that or face up to the fact that I'm old enough to have a son old enough to get married.  :)

When my son was commissioned two years ago, I asked his fiancee if she was ready to be a military wife.  She said that if he can handle her being in grad school, she can handle him being in the USAF.  While I admired her answer, I don't think she had any clue what she could be in for.  And she has it easy.  My son is a developmental engineer stationed in Massachusetts.  Odds are he won't deploy and may not even has to PCS (move to another base) during his four-year committment.  But he is still in the military and he could deploy and could PCS.

My soon-to-be daughter-in-law is a strong, intelligent woman.  She can take care of herself.  I think that is a necessity for a military spouse.  She has a stong sense of herself, another characteristic I think is important.  She doesn't need anyone, not even my son, to make her feel complete.  No matter how long my son stays in, I think she'll be just fine and be a great military wife.

Did I mention that she's stunning?  :)

In my WIP, the heroine, Genevieve, is a fierce do-gooder working for a non-governmental agency that works with women and children.  I'm making sure that, like my soon-to-be daughter-in-law, she is strong and intelligent and sure of herself.  And sexy enough to drive the hero, Truck, out of his ever-lovin mind!  Truck is part of the crew of a Spectre C-130 Gunship.  He is frequently deployed and his job is dangerous.  I have to make sure that Gen can handle that.  As sexy as she finds him and as much as she loves him, she has to be prepared to deal with all aspects of his life because Truck has no desire to leave the USAF.

What do you think it takes to be a military spouse?

Recipe for a Military Spouse

I have seen a few different versions of this but this is the most popular one.

Recipe for a Military Spouse

1 1/2 Cups Patience
2 Tablespoons elbow grease
1 Pound courage
1 Cup tolerance
and a Dash of adventure

Marinate frequently with salty tears, and pour off excess fat. 
Sprinkle ever so lightly with money, kneading dough well until payday. 
Season with international spices. 
Bake for twenty years or until done. 
Serve with pride!

Always cut with a military ID card or this recipe will never get you anywhere on base.*

_SERVE WITH PRIDE _
-- Author unknown
*Added by Mel

Military Brat to Wife to Writer

I will be honest with you. I never really planned on writing military romance. I am a military brat and a military wife, so I don't see much that is romantic about the military. Don't get me wrong. I love to read military romance, but trying to make it romantic myself, I wasn't sure I could do that. I was worried it would end up in a rant about how every time something goes majorly wrong, DH is on TDY.

I had written former military folks here and there, but never active duty. There is a different feel to an AD hero or heroine. Your life is not your own, therefore the life of those you love is not their own either. So, I had avoided it. Then, a couple of authors, Alyssa Brooks and Karen Monroe, came to me with an idea. Triplets who were military brats who swore never to marry military. That I could get behind because I was so that girl once upon a time. Operation Love was a blast to write with two other authors and I started to see there was a part of me that might want to write military romances.  Not enough but it was a start.

Flash forward from 2005 to 2011. I was writing A Little Harmless Submission and Malachi Dupree popped up. He had been mentioned in a few books but he had never been on the "page" so to speak. Since I had started my own publishing at that point, I knew there was a place for him and his friends in a book. A Little Harmless Military Romance was born.

Infatuation released November 2011. It was odd that people loved them so much. Or, at least, it was to me, but many of the emails and comments from readers told me that people wanted more of them. I had not really planned five right off the bat, but the lure of showing people the real behind the scenes lives was a little too much to resist. With our active duty military life winding down (SEPTEMBER!!!!!!!), I feel more comfortable writing military romance. Later this year Craving and Relentless will release, and this May, I decided to pay an homage to our military lives by releasing The Santinis.

After twenty years a military wife - not to mention my years a military
dependent - I wanted to write about a family who gave their lives for their country. Each book will feature a place we lived during the last twenty years.  Understand, at least from my point of view, that when you agree to go into the military, you are giving over your life. For two to thirty years...your life is not your own. And for military brats, four brothers, to do that is amazing. You know the problems that go along with the commitment. Knowing that, all four brothers went into the military. So, you know that men like that are not going to love easily. I wanted to explore their dynamic as brothers and in their relationships with women. I wanted to give them their happily ever afters because, people who serve in that capacity definitely deserve it.