Melissa Stevens is the winner of the Freaky Friday Author Promo from last week. She is an Urban Fantasy/Romance writer who is a native Arizona (one of my favorite states :)).  Loving to read from an early age, she fell in with love with the series Box Car Children,and her taste for the concept of book series was instilled. She loves a mix of genres including westerns, romance, sci-fi, fantasy, and horror. She is married with three children and prefers rural life and small towns to the crowded rush of the city.

Her works are:  Change, Fight, Escape, and her most recent, Hunt. 

When asked about her most recent  release, she offered the Hunt Synopsis: Nickie returns to town eager to get back to her life and routine but soon discovers that there are many more changes headed her way. After an old school friend is murdered, a threatening message is written on the news article about her death and left for Nicki. She begins to wonder if maybe her friend had been killed as a warning to her, but why?

Together, Nickie and Devon set out to figure out who is behind the murder and what it has to do with Nickie, but can they do it before she gets hurt again?

She even allowed me to post a little excerpt from the story.
The picture on the news bulletin was a surprise. Without reading a word, the face staring back at me caught my attention. I knew her, or I once had. Annette Bigler, Annie to her friends, had been in my class all the way through school. We hadn't been best friends, but we'd been friendly. Since then, I'd seen her around town, enough to say hi now and then but I hadn't spent any time with her since the summer we'd graduated, almost ten years earlier. She'd gone away to school, and though she'd returned, we'd never really rekindled our relationship. I scanned the headlines, trying to figure out why her picture was there.

"BODY OF LOCAL GIRL FOUND ON CAMPUS"

The headline shocked me. Today would to be my first day back to work after more than a week and I knew nothing about a body having been found on campus. Since I was the Dean of Student's secretary, I should probably know something. I read further and found that she'd been discovered beaten and stabbed. She hadn't been killed there, but her body had been dumped after she was already dead. The police had few leads.

Glancing at the clock, I picked up my Personal Communication Device, also known as a PCD, and dialed my brother. I hoped that as a police officer, he would be able to tell me more. I also knew anything he did tell me would be accurate, not rumors or twisted to be more sensational like often happened with the news.

"Hey, Sis. It's awful early isn't it?"  Raine answered, his voice sounded tired.

"Sorry," I hoped I hadn't woken him. "I just found out about Annie. Can you tell me anything other than what was in the news?"

"Not much," I heard him take a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I know you knew her." His voice was full of sympathy.

"We were friends in high school but we hadn't seen much of each other since."

"A student found her body on Central Campus yesterday afternoon. That area’s pretty deserted on the weekend. You know what it’s like. We don't know exactly how long she was there before she was discovered, but not more than a few hours. We figure who ever dumped her, wanted her to be found, but probably not until this morning."

I knew what he meant, the campus was long and narrow, a block wide but three long, each block was identified by location, there was North, Central and South campus.

"Any ideas who could have done it?" I wanted to know as much as he could tell me.

Noise rustled over the line and I assumed he was shaking his head.

"No. She was severely beaten and stabbed several times, but we haven't found the primary scene and we don't have any leads yet." He sounded unhappy about it and I didn't blame him.

Violent crimes weren't common in the area. I mean, yeah, there were domestic disputes, and the occasional bar fight, but something like murder? The last murder I remembered in the valley was more than five years earlier. This was going to shake the entire community.

"I know there are things the department holds back, keeps from the public, things that will help you find and identify whoever is responsible, but is there anything else you can tell me?"

"Not that-" He stopped mid-sentence and changed what he was saying. "Wait. You know she's one of you, right?"

"One of me?" I was confused.

"You know, like you and Devon."

"Oh." I suddenly realized what he was trying to say, without actually saying, that is. Annie was Kitsune. She was a shape-shifter like I am. "No, I didn't know. There are still so many that I haven't yet met."

"I don't know if it's going to be a factor, but I have to keep it in mind, even if I can't tell the rest of the force." His voice was full of reluctance and doubt. I knew that having to hide something about the victim from the rest of the investigators was hard for him, but I didn't see how it could be helped, at least not now.

"I understand." My mind was already churning with possibilities. "I'll keep my ears open and let you know if I hear anything that might help."

"I'd appreciate it."

"You sound tired." I changed the subject.

"I am. I ended up pulling a double, investigating this. I just got home and I'm on my way to bed."

Sounds intriguing, right? I thought so! If you want to find her books, they are at:
http://melissastevens.us/

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5062799.Melissa_Stevens

https://twitter.com/MelissaTStevens

https://www.facebook.com/melissastevensauthor

They can also be found on Amazon or wherever ebooks/paperbacks are sold! 

Robin's Nest will be her newest due out August 2013 so stay tuned for that one!
Thanks, Melissa for being my featured author this week and Congratulations!


 

Get an ebook of Change for free, here:
 https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/122871

Due for release August 2013!

So, three wonderful, adorable young people have ventured into the recesses of my mind --and my life.
Nola St. Germaine, Deslyn Wilder, and Bronte Ladeaux. They are my three lead characters for my YA Paranormal Fiction Series, S.P.I.R.I.T.S.
The main title is actually their Paranormal Group that has been named by fellow author, Kelly Erickson, who gets a mention in the novel, among other things after the first book comes out. She won the contest for best PARANORMAL Group Name/Acronym! Congrats, Kelly and thanks so much!

I have a feeling that this series will become as viral as the Twilight Series, if not more (at least I can hope). My characters have seemed to jump right out of the pages and feel as lifelike as you or me. I have a feeling they are gonna take over and make their own blog, so stay tuned for that! They already have their own *Paranormal Group* fan page, which has been a lot of fun seeing them interact. They will soon be introducing each other so that their fans can get to know more about them. They love their fans!!

As their creator and author of the future series, I am looking forward to bringing them into the light and making them a national sensation! Stay tuned for Book Cover reveals, swag giveaways, etc.
Thanks for your continued support! As Nola would say... Much Love and Ghost hugs! ;)

 Author Danielle Martell was the lucky winner of this past week's Tearjerker/Tragic Tuesday free author promo! Her book, High by Day, Drunk by Night is due for release July 2013! A young girl growing up in California tries to cope with the after affects of  abuse, but her choices in doing so leads her down the path of destruction.

Synopsis:

Anne grew up in a small town in California. She was quiet, sweet, and to a strangers eyes, she was untainted. Her world took a turn when child protected services came into her family's life. She never knew the abuse she was subjected to every day, was only the beginning, until now. As Anne grew older, she discovered the child abuse flash backs haunted her every moment of every day. She runs away from her family, escaping CPS and befriends abusers of alcohol and drugs. Believing this was a way to  close the doors of her past, she soon finds it only opens new ones to unrelenting addictions. Will Anne be able to defeat her demons before its too late? Or will the drugs make her past haunt her again when suicide comes into the picture?

 I am looking forward to reading this work due to it being about an issue close to my heart; physical and sexual abuse.

The novel has taken a very interesting turn for the better, I believe. While I don't want to get into the juicy details, I have had a brainstorm of epic proportions in relation to how the story will progress. Thanks to a brilliant suggestion by my good friend, C.M. Wright.  (Yes, I mentioned you in my blog, girlfiend! ;) )Love You tons! I am re-planning  the order of events, where I plan to begin the novel, and which character will lead off.  




With this character, I will go into the back   story, allowing the audience to see  how it all began, and then progress from there.

My hopes and goals? To make it into a trilogy or a full blown series, not sure, depending on where my characters lead me! All-in-all it is becoming quite an adventure, and to top it off, I have found an awesome editor to help me shape the story into the success I know it is capable of!

Thanks to all my supporters! Once I get more written I will share teasers, and will blog more for the series. For now, this concludes the blog series for A Son for Ibiza!

A Believer and Skeptic in One

The paranormal realm has always interested me, even as a child. I am both believer and skeptic, if there even is such a thing. I do believe and know that their is a spiritual dimension that we can't see, but exists. However, I do not count every little bump and noise as being paranormal. I look for a more logical, scientific reason for something happening before I claim it as supernatural. I have had my share of experiences throughout my life, and I am sure I will continue to have more as time goes on. I don't know if I could call myself sensitive, because it is not like spirits are drawn to me and I can see them every day.  However, sometimes my dreams are extremely vivid and I can remember them per every detail as they happened, even years later. I have also experienced strange hiccups in time. We call this deja vu, usually. Where you know you have experienced something before, but you can't quite understand when, how, or why? I have slight precognitive abilities where I can predict things before they happen. The strange thing about it is, it's usually all mental. For example, I'll dream something, or a thought or event will come to mind, but hasn't happened yet, and sometimes seconds, inutes, hours, or even days later, it will happen,  Sometimes,I don't really realize it, but others, it feels like a deja vu moment. I have even picked up the phone to call a certain person and they'd actually be on the other end. The phone never rang, so I would never have known until that moment. That sometimes freaks me out, but it's kind of neat.

Vivid Dreams

Going back to dreams for a moment, I have had several very vivid and strange dreams; sometimes even frightening where I wake up crying! I have had a repetitive dream about a certain house. I haven't had that dream in years, but I am sure it will rear it's ugly head again sometime in the future. I can't pinpoint what exactly makes me have that dream, but I have had it at least three times in my life.It's quite terrifying. The house has a white exterior, and is very charming, almost like a quaint little victorian cottage...sort of... anyways, going in, it's very small and claustrophobic....and dark. There are points of light within, but there are strange shadows along the walls. One in particular seems to chase me. it's very large and intimidating. As I try to run to escape it, the house appears to shrink, like a funhouse affect. I feel myself getting short of breath, feeling panic...I try to reach the door and just as I go to open it, I wake up. That's exactly how it ends every time!  Other dreams I have had involved my daughter when she was a baby. I think those were just stemmed from apparent seperation anxiety on my behalf. I was attending school at the time to get  my Asosciates Degree in Architectural Design, and I guess felt guilty for leaving her. My dreams were always about abandonment and me not knowing where she was, or knowing where she was but had been taken and something horrible happening to her. I woke up, countless times in tears and sweat freaking out! I always ran into her room to check on her and she would be peacefully sleeping. Afterwords, I would go back to sleep and be ok.

Another very vivid dream I had a few years ago, and I even remember the date of the dream. February 10, 2003... A few days short of Valentines day, but right before the night of our Valentines Dinner at church. Anyways, I am sitting atop of this cloud, kind of floating, the air is thick and the skies are dark and crimson,  and there are three crosses on a hill. I am at the head of the center cross, wiping the brow of  Christ...Yes, Jesus... I can hear and see the commotion below.I can see the other two men on the crosses. I can see the Roman soldiers standing guard. I hear Jesus say his seven final words and I realize I am at his crucifixion. *Side note: at the time of this dream, I had been certified as a Doula/labor assistant and during labor I would help the mother feel relaxed and wipe the sweat off her brow* I continue to dab the cloth on his brow, wiping away blood and sweat. He then turns to me, looks me straight in the eyes, with a bright smile on his face. The light around him glows brighter, and I could see no pain...nothing but love...He says to me, "Brandy, I love you, You are MINE!" I remember embracing him tight after that, and I feel the blood from his side dripping onto my hand. It felt so real! I woke up in tears, but it was such a mixed emotion, I could not even tell my then husband what I had just experienced until hours later. I also remember when I woke up, I could still feel him, his presence was there and I felt the embrace. I also felt something wet on my right hand, and when I looked, in between my thumb and forefinger, there were three little dark red droplet stains on my hand! This unfathomable peace came over me. I still get emotional even typing those words, because I knew at that moment, no matter what I had done in my life, I was not perfect, but he loved me and he claimed me as his own! Those three blood stains remained on my hand for three days, despite washing them, they did not go away til the third day! Now mind you, this was also Lent season, so it had a very particular meaning for me as a woman of faith. I will never forget that dream, and I don't think I am ever supposed to and that's quite alright with me!!!

Believe it... or Not!

I have not told too many people about that dream. Most, especially non-believers, would not get it, and others, well they may not believe me, despite the vivid detail and recount! Something just felt right about telling it here. That way, if you read it, you can either believe, or not... or come to your own conclusions. I just know that those who share my faith felt very blessed and touched when I told them, it was like a reaffirmation for me, and sometimes even for them. it was my Valentine's gift from God that year and I'll forever cherish it!! Does this make me psychic or sensitive, I don't really know. I just know that it was as real to me as someone reaching out and caressing my arm or face. I felt it! Was it paranormal? In a way, yes, because it was not of this world, and in the dream, I was not in this physical plane. My soul and psyche had transcended into a realm that is undefined by even science. How could it have been so real?Maybe because God's love transcends time and space, and that is how I was able to feel and sense everything from the dream even after waking. it is a unique and wonderful mystery, one of which not many get to experience and I am very fortunate and grateful to have been gifted with that!

Pinterest seems an unlikely resource for writers. Consequently, it is actually a hot bed for inspiration.  Writers and authors of all genres can find something to give their story, article, poem, or script, an edge. Creating story boards with pins of inspiration for your writing projects can be a powerful resource and help with writer's block.  Writers can find photos, quotes, art, period clothing, vintage items...just about anything you can think of to start the writing process. I came across this resource, myself, on one of my writing network sites. Not sure if it was Freelance Writing Jobs, Scripted, or Skywords. I know it was one of them who had posted a great article from a writer about using Pinterest for writing. It's a brilliant idea, and one I am taking advantage of!  Who woulda thought?

If you are on pinterest, you can follow my Write Diva's Writing Inspiration Board. Now, I am not going to create entire storylines. Whatever I use is just for inspiration to help me brainstorm. 

If you see something on pinterest that you feel may be of use to me, and I haven't come across it yet, please feel free to share it! I appreciate all input!

When deciding upon my characters for the story, I had to maintain the historical attributes, as well as the Arabic culture, for my main characters. I wanted my characters names to have a meaning to them. To me, this was crucial to their development of their story.  I searched for Arabic baby names that symbolized who they were, and sometimes provided an ironic dynamic to them.  For the Sheik, I wanted his name to be literal.  Mutazz means noble, superior. My harem mistress, Azizah, means Beloved one- Which she is... or was until her exile. Muhibb, the Sheik's brother, means loyal--the irony? well, He has an affair with Mutazz's favored harem mistress, Azizah... how loyal is he, now? ;)  I added Khalilah, a minor supporting character for Azizah's maidservant. Her name describes exactly who she is to Azizah...bosom friend, confidante. Azizah trusts her implicitly and can tell her anything, including the trist she has with Muhibb!  Khalilah being so loyal to Azizah, does not give her away to Mutazz, even when he insists. 

While in exile, Azizah discovers she is pregnant, and since this child is possibly the lost heir of Ibiza, his name, Khalaf, means successor or heir!
Now, even though he is not a major character, and not Arabic, but Greek. Captain Aeneas becomes a brief love interest for Azizah.  I came up with the  name, Aeneas, because it is a strong, Grecian name, an epitome of strength and ruggedness. He is a bit of a tragic character himself, but you'll have to read the book to find out what I mean. ;)

Once I had the names, I googled artwork of arabic men and women during the renaissance period, which was close to the time period of my novel. I knew what I was looking for, but did not want to give too much away, so I have a "muse" painting for Azizah, and a suggestive one for Her and Muhibb together, which you see here. They fit with the romance and poetry of the  story, they tell a story themselves, which I loved. The only one I had trouble finding was a Mother/child portrait that resembles Azizah and Khalaf, but that's ok. Having these bring my characters more to life, and makes you want to know more about them....or at least that's my goal!

Stay tuned for next week....The Progression , hopes, and goals for the Novel!

The setting: Ibiza, August 8, 1235 A.D.-The Arabs have ruled for 500 years when the Catalans invade. The Catalans, being from mainland Spain want to also claim Ibiza as their own. This makes sense, as the Island is just off the coast of  Spain, with the Balearic Sea flowing through them; making Ibiza, Frontemera, Cabrera, Mallorca, and Minorco, the Balearic Islands. 

As the Catalans are prepared to invade, the ruling Sheik and his brother are quarrelled over a mistress of the harem.  The brother gets back at the  Sheik and shows the Catalans the secret passage under the Dalta Villa, called Calle de san Ciriaco. This passage allows the Catalans to enter the city and take over.  (So much for the fortified Citadel!)  While the historical facts do not reveal the fate of the Sheik, the brother, or the mistress, that is where my story takes off and gives it life. 

Before the Catalans or the Arabs, the Romans, Phoenicians, Carthaginians,  Byzantines, and the Moors all ruled over Ibiza.   Not at the same time, mind you, but they each had their turn immersing their beliefs, culture, food,art,  and traditions into the fiber of Ibiza. There are even ancient Carthaginian burial grounds that still exist today. 


Having researched the native food, vegetation, industry, and atmosphere of Ibiza and Es Vedra, I wanted to keep that authentic and maintain historical accuracy of the time. I also researched the Arabic clothing, and am still researching clothing, artillery, and other implements used during the 9th Century.  Weaving these aspects of history into fiction allows readers to want to put themselves into the story; see ancient Ibiza through the characters' eyes. This breathes life into the story and the characters.


The mysterious island of Es Vedra is my chosen exile Island for my mistress character, Azizah.  Many strange occurrences have been reported on this island which is the reason why I have added a special element to the story. You will know it when you read it! ;) Legend has it,  Es Vedra is the upturned sunken lost city of Atlantis.   

I am looking forward to learning more about the culture of Ibiza as I continue to write and develop my characters around the history of the Island. it is an amazing experience so far, and hopefully I can travel to Ibiza one day and see it in all it's ancient, majestic, exotic beauty that my characters saw 900 hundred years ago!


Stay tuned for next week's installment- Breathing Life Into My Characters!


Historical references: http://www.ibizaspotlight.com/ibizamagic/history_i.htm

The distant sound of machine guns and mortars crackle violently...echoing through the valley-reverberating off the corrugated tin roofs of makeshift barracks...Barracks? Where am I? The stench of sweat and blood burns my nostrils...My body writhes furiously in what I assume is a terrible nightmare. Eyes locked shut...unable to open them...I feel somewhat paralyzed as I feel something...no... someone staring down at me as I dream...tossing and turning...the anxiety and fear building inside...face feeling flushed as I feel the form staring down at me come closer...the weight and warmth enveloping me...my eyes snap open and as I catch a quick glimpse...I let out a scream...and then I gasp....my eyes come into focus on a young man...handsome...familiar...

Where have I seen that face before? I study him thoroughly...bewildered...I can't seem to place him...

His smooth, youthful face breaks into a wide smile as he asks me "Hello, beautiful! Where in God's name did you come from?"

"What do you mean? You are in my room!"

"No, honey, I’m afraid not!” You are on my pallet! How did you get here?

Suddenly, I become aware that he is right-I am no longer in the comfort of my own bed, but on this hard, uncomfortable, cot, with heavy, scratchy, green-camouflaged bedding. I sit up quickly...panicked. He places a gentle hand on my shoulder, still smiling. I look down and realize I am still in my pajamas...an intimate, off-white, filmy gown. I pull the covers up to my chin to regain my privacy. Shaking and near tears, I gaze blankly at him; not knowing what to make of it all.

He begins to question me in a strong, buttery, northern accent. "So, what brings you to Vietnam?"

"Vietnam?!?!” I nearly shout at him. Covering my mouth apologetically, I feel my face flush again.

"Yep, Nam, baby! We're in the middle of the Vietnam war! The year 1967!!!" He spreads his arms out, exclaiming exuberantly.

"OMG! 1967?! What the hell? How did I get here?"

"O...M..G?" He looks at me, puzzled.

"Yeah, it means, Oh My God! Everyone says it!"

He laughs, raising his eyebrows, and retorts,"You're not from around here, are ya?"

"Well, DUH! Ya think?" I reply smartly.

He shakes his head in disbelief. "No one talks like that here, so where are you really from?"

"I live in Texas, and it's the year 2013!"

"Texas? 2013? I would have thought you would look much different...like half alien, half cowgirl."

"Gee, Thanks!" I reply, rolling my eyes, slightly giggling at such a stereotypical assumption.

His hand rests on my shoulder again, lightly caressing it. He begins to play with the ruffled strap of my nightgown. I look over to my shoulder, enjoying his touch. Trying not to give myself away, I close my eyes slightly. I quickly look up again to find him staring forlornly at me. I am sure it has been a while since he has seen or even touched a woman. A welcome sight I must be! Our eyes meet, piercing each other's soul with a penetrating gaze that cuts through the time and space between us. His eyes become misty and he blinks several times before turning away. I reach out and I touch the side of his face. Running my hands through his dark, slicked-back hair which waves in the back and on top. He is real! How can this be a dream? He turns to face me again, with the same look. Our hands touch, he begins to trace the back of my hand with his finger. My other hand rests on his, and he takes both of my hands up to his lips and kisses each one. I blush profusely, quickly pulling away. He lunges forward, catching me off guard, and kisses me. I fall back, he catches me in his arms, and pulls me to him. My breathing quickens...chest begins to rise and fall rapidly. I try to push him away.

"I can't --this is not right...I can't!" I push him off.

"You're married, aren't you?" He asks, disappointed.

"Yes...as a matter of fact, I am. I'm sorry, but It's not right! I love my husband!"

"Lucky man -- Your husband! I can only hope to find someone like you, someday!" He exclaims, straightening up his jumpsuit.

I just happen to notice he's wearing a jumpsuit that looks vaguely familiar to one I saw Eric wearing in a picture from when he was in Vietnam! The young man sits back down on the cot next to me. I begin touching the patches and stripes on his jumpsuit, noticing it says "U.S. Air Force" on the left side above his heart, and on the right, a faded name I.D. patch. I can barely make out, what I believe to say, Cugino! No...this can't be! This can’t be him! My face drains of all color...shock overwhelms me as my eyes glaze over, dumbfounded at my discovery.

"What's wrong, darlin' ? You look as if you've seen a ghost!" Appearing concerned, he clasps my hands tightly, caressing my cheek.

"That's not even the word for it!" I exclaim.

What is going on here? Confused and afraid that I may be trapped in this dream-state, I begin to cry. He gently leans in toward me, kissing my forehead. He begins to whisper to me..."Rest now...just rest...I'm here...I'm here..." My eyes flutter before closing to enter into another fitful sleep. His face begins to blur before me, yet I still feel the back of his hand caressing my cheek, his hand still holding tightly onto mine.




*****

My head thrashes side to side, tears pouring down my face, I feel strong arms holding onto mine as I reach for an invisible form, begging for it not to abandon me. Trying to force my eyes open to see who's holding me; my vision, blurry at first, begins to focus in on the familiar face of my husband. Very much relieved, I embrace him. My breathing begins to slow, and I regain my sense of reality. He encourages me to share with him the dream I just experienced. Expelling every detail, he is astounded at how accurate it all seems. Right down to the year he was there!

"That's quite a dream, sweet darlin'!"

"Yeah, it seemed so real! He seemed so real! He had your mannerisms and everything!"

"What if it was me?" He questions, in half disbelief.

"I guess it's possible! Right?"

He shrugs his shoulders, kisses me on the forehead, and walks out to the kitchen to make coffee. Leaving me with my thoughts and questions of what had just occurred within the realm of sleep. Wondering, if I closed my eyes... would I return to that moment?

To be continued...

So I seem to have shut myself in these two days off for the pure love of writing without distraction. Granted, I did not get a whole lot accomplished yesterday due to some female issues, today I have applied to a couple of new opportunities, and am writing this blog post!! Also hoping to get my daily short story written,which I am finding is not as easy as it usually is. Mainly because I need some inspiration, ya think?

Reading through some of the books I bought, skimming a few pages of each to keep the motivation and desire going. Which that doesn't take much because, writing has become a drug for me...I have to have a fix every day! This is a good thing, i presume! Especially if I plan to do this full-time, eventually! I know I can do this and will be successful, i feel it in every fiber of my body!! It's in the core of me now, deeply embedded!

I am so blessed at being given this innate ability to arrange words in a way to speak to the hearts and minds of others, to reach those that know not what to say or how to say it. I am astounded at the words I put to paper...it is like an outer body experience...feeling as if it wasn't me, but someone else writing the words...but I know it is me, because they come from my mind, heart, and soul!

So, am I becoming reclusive? I dare say not because I know there is life to be lived outdoors... for that is where inspiration comes from...I can't afford to be a shut-in because I have a daughter who loves the park, and I love the fresh air, sunshine, and cool breeze when the weather is right... Even though some of the best writers and authors have become very eccentric reclusives, that lifestyle is not for me. Besides there is only so much you can write about within four walls. Mother nature can be such an inspiring muse, along with different sights, smells, and tastes of the world! Let us not forget what our ears hear... that too can be inspiration. As a musician, certain sounds can prove to be poetic and inspiring.

Not to dis Miss Emily Dickenson and her fine poetry...she is one of my favorites, but she had to have had a very keen sixth sense of a writer to see more than the boundaries of the four walls she enclosed herself in! I am sure as writers we all learn to harness that and use our sixth creative sense to our greatest advantage!