Every Super Hero has a moment when the tide turns in their favor,
the story climaxes all of the pieces fit into place and the circle is complete.
Usually this is when they set their sights on righting the wrongs and stopping
the villain once and for all. Then they get this look, the -- okay, you want to
play, let’s go, bring it on! In this moment, they know, you know, and the villain
probably has an inkling as well, the hero is going to win and there is nothing
you can do to stop him.
"Tell Me No, I Dare You", is my way of laying a
challenge out to all those who will oppose me. I have my dreams, aspirations,
motivators and or goals. There will be obstacles in achieving them, but I will
prevail and I will do it using all of the weapons in myarsenal.
Warning though, don’t become toocockywith your superpowers, always play to
Confidence is the key, and part of that confidence is knowing your
personal code, aka your Super Hero code. A personal code, to me,
is a list of parameters you will live within, strive for and even defend. The
outline of who you want to be, to yourself and those around you.
The revelation of my personal code came when I read a fabulous
book, “Guts!: Companies that Blow the Doors off Business-as-usual”.
First, love the title because it sums up the requirement for anything you want
in life. It is all there for the taking, you just have to have the guts to go
for it! My hope is to help you discoveryoursuperpower-- and you do have one-- and empower you with the guts to go after everything you want. I have my
code tacked to my bulletin board at work and I find myself looking at more
often than naught. It reminds me of who I am, what I am about, and how powerful
I am. I like to think my heroes live by the same code and I am probably right.
Stand up and people will stand with you
If you messed up, fess up
The answer isn’t “I don’t know”, it is “I
will find out”
Admit you will never know it all, there is
always something to be learned
The only constant is change
Your gut is never wrong
To cut a corner is to lose the journey
Do it right, or don’t do it
Coincidence is denial, not an exception
What you push out always comes back toshoveyou
So now I have an assignment for you, what is your code? List out the things you live by, and for, every day. Now take a moment to think about what each of these statements means
to you. Life experience makes the meaning different for each individual.
The meanings will also change with age. A statement may mean something to you
now, and have a different meaning later on in your life.
Now take each of these statements and
change them into an "I Will."
I will fight for what I believe in
I will admit my mistakes, and learn from
I will strive to know the answers
I will always embrace a different point of
I will strive to adapt
I will trust myself
I will accept every challenge with open
I will never accept less than my best from
I will get up when I fall
I will always deliver results with
honesty, integrity and confidence
Every hero survives because of a core
strength built on a personal code, like the one we just did. The code lay close
to their heart and are what guide them, protect them and in the end save them. Read
what you wrote. How amazing are you? These are the reasons you are strong,
these are the reasons you will survive no matter what. These are the reasons
you can look a challenge in the eye and say "Bring on your worst!"
The Devil Take You – by H K Carlton – Historical Romance
Braelynn Galbraith wants peace for her beloved Scotland, marriage to her childhood sweetheart, and a house full of children. In that order. But evil incarnate, in the form of Gard Marschand, turns her life inside out and destroys all hope of a decent marriage.
Known in the Highlands as the legendary devil, Gard Marschand raids his way across Scotland and England amassing power and property in his malevolent wake. He will stop at nothing in his pursuit to regain what is lost— even conceal his true identity and associate with his enemies. His determination is all-consuming until he and his men lay siege to Ross-shire holding and one feisty Scottish lass obliterates his single-minded purpose.
Can Gard abandon his deep-seated need for revenge for a love that just might save his rotten soul? Or will he succumb to the demons that hound him and surrender to the devil within?
I believe your stay in purgatory has only just begun…
A plume of black smoke rose over the burm, swirling into the sky.
“Dear God, not again.” Brae dropped the bouquet she had been fashioning and ran, perhaps stupidly, toward the village. Even with the wind whistling through her ears, the commotion and terror-filled shrieks of the town folk still reached her.
With her attention focused on locating her family, Brae didn’t hear the horses behind her until the last second.
All of a sudden, her feet lost contact with the damp earth. She choked on a scream as some unknown assailant grabbed her by the hair and plucked her from the ground. The destrier never slowed its pace as she dangled precariously in midair.
In agony, Brae clamped her hands on either side of her head—her scalp threatened to peel away from her skull.
The kidnapper hauled her up in front of him and body slammed her stomach-first onto the horse’s back. Brae’s breath rushed from her lungs at the force. She bunched her hand into the rider’s enormous black cloak and hung on for dear life.
While she struggled to breathe, the brigand wrapped his rather large leather-clad hand around her backside.
“This one be mine!” The sound of his deep voice chilled her. By his accent, he was English! Braelynn closed her eyes and recalled the warnings from Callum and her da. Had her own father’s words cursed her? Was she to learn the lesson the hard way?
She was afraid to open her eyes, but she knew by the smell stinging her nose that they were close to the source of the acrid smoke.
The horses came to an abrupt halt. Brae barely had time to register the fact when someone from behind grabbed her by the ankles and attempted to rip her from her captor’s lap.
“She be mine,” her captor growled.
To her horror her skirt rode high.
“I want her!” the second brigand responded while caressing her bare leg. Brae’s skin crawled.
In terror, she stared up at the raider holding her while the other slid his rough hands ever higher up her plaid.
Leather creaked when her captor leaned in the saddle. He placed one large booted foot in the center of his rival’s chest and shoved. At once, Brae’s lower body dropped as he fell backward from the blow. Her arms pulled taut, stretching painfully, supporting her weight.
Without warning, the man holding her suddenly released his grip. Brae slid down the horse’s side and fell to the ground with a thud in a tangle of voluminous skirts. She did not wait to disentangle herself but seized the opportunity to flee. She leapt to her feet intending to run, but her captor was faster. He grabbed her by the hair yet again. Circling it around his hand, he reeled her in.
“Not so fast, Caileag.” He sneered the last as if it were a nasty word. “You and I have some business to attend.”
Brae fought him, kicking, punching, and scratching, but to no avail. With his enormous reach, he held her at bay until another one of the black-garbed knights gathered her from behind and pushed her into the lean-to attached to the smithy. She landed heavily on one hip on the sub-floor, with the stranger’s hand still wrapped around her hair. He let it uncoil. Long strands hung from his gloves. Her scalp ached.
Petrified, she stared up at the small crowd now gathered. There were four of them, but more outside.
“Come, Marschand. You never take the women. Ya are just tryin’ to prove yourself to Cowan. Give her to me. She’s too bonnie fer the likes a you,” one man jeered.
All the men were dressed the same, entirely in black. But her original captor, the one they referred to as Marschand, was truly pitch-dark from head to toe, including his hair and beard. Even his eyes were two bottomless orbs of bleakness.
Brae gasped. ’Tis him! The devil himself! Absolute terror tried to climb its way up her throat.
H K Carlton is a multi-genre Canadian author of romance, with over thirty titles in publication. From naughty to nice, historical to contemporary, time travel to space travel, and everything in between.
Variety is creativity’s playground—It’s where you’ll find me
The leader of the pack, the man of
the house, the head honcho. The Alpha Male is the strength and the order in
chaos. He is the one you look to for guidance. It is a physical and mental
strength that shows for only one in any given scenario. Alpha Male is, in a
word, dominance, usually male but not always.
The alpha male is a term that is
generally used to describe a male that seems dominant in his social circles,
seems to possess an unending appeal towards women, and displays general
leadership characteristics and traits. The term alpha male has been derived
from the term 'alpha dog,' a term that is used to pinpoint the leader of a pack
of wolves or dogs.
Many conflicts are sourced in the
code of the alpha male. It is true in the wild, and it is true in the modern
world. As writers, it is the heart of
the driven plot, the classic struggle between the Protagonist and the
Antagonist, and sometimes the Protagonist and the Contagonist. The battle for power, whether for money,
information, or love, is intense, heated, and sometimes violent. There are many
alpha male traits to distinguish between an alpha male and a beta male, both in
life and in your characters.
Alpha Male Traits
Here is a list of alpha male characteristics that can help you identify alpha
males in your story, and also help you develop some of these alpha male
Alpha Male Traits - Personality Traits
Talking Deliberately: It is commonly observed that if one is speaking
to someone in a position higher than themselves, they tend to speak fast to
maintain their attention and interest. When an Alpha talks, it’s slow,
thoughtful, and deliberate. He knows that no matter what he says, he will be
listened to, and thus no need to rush through his words.
Acknowledging Others: The Alpha knows how to appreciate and
acknowledge other people. H will always be open to ideas and suggestions from
others and will not dismiss anyone or anything without sincerely considering them.
Aloof: Alpha’s seem like they are just not interested. Their body
language seems to suggest that they are always immersed in their own thoughts,
and this even makes them seem self-centered. However, they are paying
attention, very close attention, usually.
Attracts Women: An irresistible charm oozes out of them and
sweeps all the ladies off their feet. It is no one singular characteristic,
rather the combination of all the Alpha male traits which makes them so
Alpha Male Traits - Psychological Traits
Confidence: The biggest asset to possess, no matter where you
are, is self-confidence. Believing in yourself, no matter what is an Alpha
trait that truly stands out. There is a fine line between self-belief and
arrogance, and the Alpha is well aware of these boundaries. He is supremely
composed, maintaining a steady, constant level of confidence.
No Explanations: No approval needed, ever. As an Alpha, he’ll
follow his instincts, and does not feel he owes anybody any explanations. There
is no urge within him to justify and validate his actions. The most obvious of
all the Alpha characteristics is he is comfortable in his own skin and does not
seek or look to for anyone for approval.
Competing With Other Alpha Males: The most glaring thing that you
will notice when you see two alpha males interacting with each other is the
battle for supremacy. Each one will try and get one over on the other, and as a
result, they will both be constantly competing or arguing aptly called the
‘pissing contest’ which refers to how dogs mark their territory.
Feeling Threatened: Since there is a constant tussle between
Alphas for supremacy, they tend to get insecure and threatened by the
activities of other alpha males. The other alpha male is undermining their
superiority and authority. This is one of the alpha male traits not seen in
every alpha male, but only in the ones with insecurities about their position
in the mix.
Everyone knows who these guys are. The traits of an Alpha Male
are so unique and recognizable, almost everyone can instantly think of the
Alphas around them. These guys seem to have it all. Money, women, success, leadership
qualities, and ease of mind, so when building a believable alpha male, you need
to understand the most typically seen alpha male traits. Start with these as a
skeleton and work from there.
Twenty–three dead, seven survivors, a self-confessed mad man, and
a little girl traumatized into silence. Now, fifteen years later the seven survivors are dying one by one.
returned to Whitten’s Grove for one reason and that was to prevent a massacre.
Her attendance at the local wedding of two of her best friends was just for
fun. Then Ben Mitchell walked into the picture. Without warning, her oldest
friend awakens her dormant heart, giving her hope for the future. She struggles
to turn away, wanting to protect him. The clock is ticking, and Rachel alone
fights against the inevitable. When forces from beyond throw Ben into the
middle of the fight, will she walk away, or sacrifice herself to prevent a
tragedy from happening twice?
The room smelled of a
sweet grape and Rachel opened her eyes to a collage of purple. Every shade,
accessory and accent of the color covered the walls and furniture. A young girl
of eighteen sat on her bed, looking at Rachel curiously.
“I can’t find
my scarf, have you seen my scarf,” the young girl asked Rachel, getting on her
knees beside the bed and reaching beneath.
“No, I haven’t,”
Rachel replied, scanning the room.
“Can you help
me find it? I can’t leave without it,” the girl stated as she continued to
reach beneath her bed.
and stepped toward the closet bursting with clothing all in different hues of
amethyst. Spying a lavender scarf edged with sequined stars hanging from the
doorknob of the closet, Rachel reached for it, the fabric brushing against her
fingers. “Is this what you are looking for,” Rachel asked as she held it in her
smiled brightly as she skipped over, taking it from Rachel’s hands. “Do you
like these jeans,” the girl asked as she studied Rachel and then turned to her
toward the photo littered vanity.
“My Dad hates
them, but I think they are the bomb. I got them for thirty bucks at the resale
shop on 4th, do you know it?”
replied, studying the hodgepodge of idols, family and friends. “I’ll have to
check it out.”
the girl replied, looking Rachel up and down. “Although your outfit is tight, I
wish I could wear that, my tits are too small.”
to herself, but continued examine the contents of the vanity. Endless shades of
blush, lipstick and eye shadow. Lining the edges of the vanity were pools of
hardened wax stemmed by candles.
“How do I
look,” the girl asked.
to see that she had changed her shirt and tied the scarf around her neck.
Before Rachel could answer, the girl leapt forward.
Rachel to the vanity, picking up a tube of lipstick, she opened it and put it
on. Looking at herself in the mirror, Rachel watched the girl focus on the
texture of her skin as it lost its moisture and became sullen before her eyes.
Rachel said softly as she joined her in the mirror. “Did you know him?”
said that an outfit was incomplete without lipstick,” she said, ignoring the
question and her decaying reflection. Rachel leaned forward, touching her
shoulder, and Amanda’s skin became plump and rosy once again.
beautiful…” Rachel said with a soft smile.
away from the mirror and immediately grabbed her purse.
replied as she stopped, staring down at the bed. “I never saw his face. I…I
wish I could help you. I didn’t see him, but I…I can still feel him.”
Rachel reassured as she watched Amanda walk toward the door.
“You know, he
said you would come,” she said in an uneasy voice.
“Why did he do
this, because of what I am?”
“I don’t know,
I think so,” Rachel replied honestly. “But I swear I am going to everything I
can to stop him.”
stop him…” Amanda replied, her body beginning to quiver. “He… he knows you…he’s…”
do you mean?”
She backed up
fearfully against the wall. “He’s here! He’s watching…”
he can’t hurt you anymore.” Amanda went from cries of fear to pain to screaming
agony. Her screams pierced Rachel’s chest sucking away her air like a vacuum. The
girl’s screams stopped, Rachel stood staring into her beautifully jeweled fear
filled eyes before Amanda’s body cracked liked an aged painting and disintegrated
into thin air.
and lungs constricting beyond her ability to cope and she dropped to her knees.
A knock echoed in her mind.
Blurb: Kaidyn is the son of the queen and a trainee officer in the kingdom of Sareen. He is also a Half-Blood—his father is from Iskandir, a neighboring kingdom which has been at war with Sareen for many years. Bitter and angry at the prejudice he faces, Kaidyn meets Sorin, a healer from one of Sareen’s most prominent noble families. As their relationship deepens, the war between Sareen and Iskandir grows worse. Not only will the pair inevitably become involved with the conflict one way or another, but Sorin is also hiding a secret, and time is running out for them both.
Note: This is the second book in the Wild Magics series (the first being the short novella, A Trust to Follow). However, both books are completely readable as standalone stories, as they take place in the same universe but feature a different cast.
“Oi! The Watch, run!”
Kaidyn’s ears had caught it, too—the clinking of steel as a patrol wandered nearby, perhaps attracted by the sounds of their struggle. No others could walk the city streets openly armed, even by day. Not that Kaidyn wanted to stick around any longer than his attackers. He had no wish to be locked up for the night either.
The man directly in front of him seized him by the collar of his shirt. “Something to remember me by,” he muttered, and Kaidyn knew his mouth was open but couldn’t hear his own gasp as he was dealt a final blow. The hit wasn’t in his stomach again, as he’d been expecting, but at the side of his head. It felt like an object struck him, not merely a fist, but something blunt and hard. He felt the blood begin to drip from the base of his skull and trickle down his neck. The world wavered around him as the last of the men ran off. Cowards, all.
Kaidyn took an uneven step, then several more. He tilted toward the ground but did not fall. Luck. Where is Luck? I have to find him, before...
He was still so angry, but his thoughts were leaking out of him along with the blood, the dizziness beginning to con-sume them. If I don’t hurry...
The stars were wheeling somewhere above him. When did I fall to the ground? He tried to search for a familiar landmark, but his sight was failing him. Kaidyn had either drank too much or been hit too hard.
“Oh!” Kaidyn heard a gasp, but it had not come from him. It wasn’t Luck, either. He tried to get up, to defend himself once more, but his hands met only empty air.
“I’m not going to hurt you, I promise—”
Kaidyn growled, his tone low and furious.
“All right, all right,” the voice soothed him. “I’ll just wait until you’re ready to walk again, shall I?” The unknown per-son sounded sympathetic. Gentle, even, and impossibly, unbearably kind. But that must have been in his head, because surely nobody who saw Kaidyn in his current state could be anything but disappointed, disgusted, or a combination of the two.
“It’s going to be all right,” the voice continued, and to Kaidyn’s astonishment he felt a cool hand touching his brow, brushing wisps of hair from his forehead. He could not remember the last time he had been touched with such tenderness. “I have you. You’re safe now. I won’t leave you alone here.”
Kaidyn shook his head, forcing his sight to clear. A pair of eyes stared anxiously back down at him and drew him in, as though calling him on from somewhere. But from where? Where...
He had definitely imagined that part, because this stranger, whoever he was, could not have known his name, much less the one reserved for his closest friends.
But he could not think any longer, he was falling, falling... and running again, running away from the pain and the bile rising in his throat, escaping everything but the darkness that finally overtook him to swallow him whole.
Author Bio: Diana is a New Zealander currently living in rural Japan. She has no idea where in the world she’ll be this time next year and is pretty okay with that. Other than reading and writing, her main passions include travel, amateur photography, and competitive swimming.
My kids are constantly boasting about how I’m a famous
author. I just laugh at them and say yep, that’s me the Famous Author Mom.
What makes us famous or even infamous? What makes anyone
famous? Is it the amount of money you make—probably not. There are lots of billionaires.
I don’t know them from Joe Schmo at the convenience store. How about what you drive or your wearing Brand
name clothing – these things will probably get you noticed. We all know just because
we own expensive items does not mean we can afford them. Being on all of the talk shows and having a
billion YouTube followers? – Yeah, not so much.
To me – in my ever so humble opinion—being famous is about
two things. Confidence and determination.
In a previous post – To blog or not to blog – we talked
about marketing and how you are not selling books anymore you are selling
yourself. It is a harsh truth. We all know Best Seller, and Award-Winning means
nothing when it comes to selling books. Yes, it helps, it shows your marketing
skills, but we have famous books – one comes to mind in particular—that were worldwide
best sellers, had movies made based on them and the book, well, sucked. There are two reasons for this – the Big 5 is
one of them. We all know money = success. If you have the money to splash TV
ads, print media and buy your way onto the best-seller list, you will have a profitable
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not discounting any authors
abilities and deserved success. There are a ton of authors that succeeded and
deserve every accolade they get.
To the world an author’s success is based on volume. How
many books have you sold? Well, that is none of their business, to be frank. No
one but you and your publisher knows those numbers. That – my friends is a good thing. Use it, do
not let your sales or lack thereof stifle your writing or make your doubt your
talent. Being famous is a state of mind. The perfect example of this is the
Kardashians. Seriously, think about it.
They were nothing, but they became famous because of their confidence in
themselves and what they have to offer the world. And money – lots of money.
Let me put it this way – if you reached the top of the pile
and your books were selling like hotcakes on a summer griddle would that change
the way you write? Would it change the way you perceive your writing? Your
goals? Your ability to continue to get better, hon your craft? Would you feel
more creative freedom? Would it change the way you market your books?
The world – via book sales is telling you – wow you are
awesome and famous!
What does it mean?
Reality? It means nothing. Not really.
So why not act like you are famous now? You are. You are a published
author! Do the work, hon your craft, edit until your eyes bleed, and market
like you are on speed. You are already famous. Use it, leverage it – write like
it. Don’t hold back, let the words and ideas fly. What have you got to lose?
Absolutely nothing, right? You can only gain. Gain experience, and visibility
which equals book sales.
Okay so don’t go nuts and start yelling “do you not know who
I am?” when the barista screws up your coffee. But do walk into a room of other
authors proud. Talk about your book on social media. Brag about your book at
parties and events. List your self as Published Author on your resume, business
cards and emails.
The point to his whole post is –
You have just as much to offer as the Kardashians (or
whomever you want) if not more. Scream it at the top of your lungs and keep
working because you are already famous, the world just doesn’t know it yet.
This post was partially inspired by an amazing book I read a
few years ago – Write
Like You are Already Famous by a good friend of mine, M. LeMont. This post
is also inspired by my fellow authors who while sitting in a dim room pound out
millions of words every year. Keep going.
Now that Finders is off to the editor I thought I would give y'all another sneak peek. Enjoy!
Blurb : When an expert Demonologist a meets a Reality Show Producer on
the Ghost Hunting Show Finders, sparks of true love fly so bright even the
Devil takes notice.
Demonologist Luke Melloy has seen the face
of true evil. He's fought it and sent it back to hell. It's what he does. To
Claire Westin, ghosts and demons are just great television and good for
ratings. When faced with the truth Luke has seen, her reality is turned upside
down as the two are swept into dire straits just moments after they meet.
Desire sparks between the unlikely pair, throwing their hearts into chaos. Love
was neither expected or wanted.
When the demon targets an unsuspecting Claire with his
wrath, Luke finds his focus split between his oath to God and the awakening of
his heart. Together, they must face the ancient evil and defeat it. Or lose
Claire moved off to the right. Luke forced himself to not
look in her direction, giving her needed privacy. Arranging his clothes to dry he
left a drying rod for Claire’s things.
You’re a professional.
Your attraction to this woman is superficial and based on the extreme
circumstances of the moment. Nothing more. Focus.
Luke turned to the bed of leaves realizing his little pep
talk wasn’t working. Running a frustrated hand over the back of his neck, Claire
stepped into his eyeline, and he stopped. Her hair once pulled up and away from
her face, was now a cascade of caramel dancing in the firelight. She moved
carefully. Her bare feet unsteady on the rocky floor. The edge of his gray
t-shirt showed off her long, toned legs but covered enough to tweak his
imagination. Her blue eyes shone brightly despite the surrounding darkness. Luke
struggled to focus on anything but the ravishing beauty walking toward him.
“Where do you want me to put these?” She asked, her eyes
full of uncertainty.
“I’ll…” he started and then stopped recalling her need not
to be coddled. “You can hang them here.” Luke referenced the piece of wood
hanging over the fire. She stepped forward. Luke put another log on the fire and
moved to the pile of leaves.
“How is this gonna work?” She asked, her gentle voice a
small whisper from behind.
“The idea is to create heat through mutual body warmth, then
trap the heat under the leaves to raise body temperature. Not the most ideal
situation but it’s all we have until the clothes dry out,” Luke said, Claire
was already shivering violently. He wasted no more time. “You’re going to lay
down first, on your side facing the wall. I’ll lay down next to you, cover you
with my body as much as possible. Once settled in we can cover ourselves with
Claire went from feeling awkward to not caring one single
bit about her nakedness. She was freaking cold! Claire moved forward, the sharp
rocks beneath her feet making her wince in pain. The glossy leaves were a
comfort for her feet. She lowered first to her knees and then bent forward on
her hands. She was shifting to get comfortable as possible, finding herself
struggling without something beneath her head.
The sound of rustling and the delicious warmth of his body alerted
Claire to Luke’s presence. His large arm slid beneath her neck to cradle her
head, and she thanked God for miracles. Her body shivered in response. Luke
started twisting, she could feel him draping the leaves over their bodies. Once
finished his free arm wrapped securely around her waist pulling her solidly
against his heated chest. If she would stop shivering, she could almost feel
sleep pulling her away.
Undeniably, the color red is a sign of strength and power, the clout seekers of the world wear it like a uniform, and the most influential countries have it as part of their flags. It is known as the power tie, and a universal statement of, “don’t mess with me, you will regret it.” Great leaders of the world wore red when making some of the most infamous speeches in history. There have been many songs have been written about its luster, and the color has been symbolized and condemned in the same thought. After much thought on the iconic symbol of unforgettable women and all super-women I have decided red heels are the winner. Superman has his red cape, Superwoman has her red heels. Have you ever watched a woman try on a pair of red shoes? There is a shy smile, a twinkle in her eye, and many times her cheeks will blush in embarrassment. Every woman on the planet owns a pair of red heels, and if they don't, it's because they haven’t found the perfect pair yet. Oh yes, you will find them in every closet, of course they may be hidden in the back corner, but they are there, waiting to be worn. There is no understating the confidence it takes to wear them either. We want to be able to back up the statement they send and some of us are not quite there yet. For those of you who do not know what I am talking about, to wear a pair of red heels, even in the privacy of your own bedroom, is like an adrenaline shot to the heart. They exude power, confidence, sexual prowess, and most importantly--the armor it takes to be unstoppable. Many will think that I am staking too much on a pair of shoes, that it is just a symbol of a confident woman with a sense of style. Oh no it is much, much more than that. There is a reason women do not wear red heels, and there is a reason they do. Red heels are scary. If you wear them, people will notice, people will look, and you will attract attention. Self doubt closes in and suffocates those who are just not ready for that kind of exposure. So the heels sit at the back of the closet waiting for their time in the spotlight. It will come, someday, we just have to be ready for it. The power of the red heel is not something to be trifled with, it is a double edged sword. The red heel definitely obtains the spotlight, but there are always critics who will not approve of the choice. We know as women we must be prepared for both, and in reverence to the red heel we must be strong and gorgeous or the magic disappears. Wow Amy, you are going way overboard on this whole red heel thing…
Am I? Ask yourself, when was the last time you wore your pair of red heels, and how did you feel when you did, and why haven’t you donned your red heels lately?
The truth is red heels--your red heels, speak volumes about who you are as a woman, your strength, your passion, your fire. When you wear red you feel confident and in control. Wearing red brings excitement into your day. It is the color of stimulation, showing a sense of exhilaration, but also suggesting a demanding character. You are amazing and the red heels make sure everyone knows it! So pull them out of the closet, put them on, and prance around the living room, wear them to lunch, or pull them out for some fun in the bedroom. They, my dears, are one of your many secret weapons, use them wisely and knock the world back a few notches! You are sexy, you are strong, YOU are unstoppable! Come Find Me!