Are You A Fashion Maven or a Fashion Victim?


Having a style is about knowing who you are and knowing how to see. You can't do one without the other.

You Think This is Easy?


Ninety-nine times out of a hundred, the difference between fabulous and frumpy comes down to how the garment is made. What looks great on the runway is going to look like hell from Wal-mart, once you have the eye to see it.

Killer Shoes?


What makes this work and not that? Why is something fabulous and not something else? We aim to find out. Because money doesn't create taste, an education does.

I Wrote a Book.


It's a murder mystery from inside the fashion industry. You might like it.

» fiction

What To Wear When You’re Quite Mannerly and Quite Unemployed

Posted on by xtine in Frontpage Blog, Literary Outfits | 4 Comments
The Manners Doctor goes to Sherwood (Limited.)

 


Button down shirt
$298 - lagarconne.com

Ralph Lauren Collection suede leather coat
$7,000 - net-a-porter.com

Burberry black blazer
€698 - veryeickhoff.com

Alexander McQueen pencil skirt
$660 - net-a-porter.com

Stella McCartney high heels
$459 - barneys.com

Helen Kaminski rain hat
$98 - simplysoles.com

Jil Sander silk scarve
330 - net-a-porter.com
Camilla Randall is a US manners columnist in a state of rapid downward mobility. She’s lost her job and nobody’s interested in her book but some outlaw publishers in the wilds of Lincolnshire. She arrives at Robin Hood airport with nothing but the couture on her back. She wore the Lincoln Green trench in honor of the setting, and the Stella McCartney boots, Alexander McQueen skirt and Burberry jacket to honor her host country. The Jil Sander scarve is one of the few accessories she hasn’t sold at a resale shop. She thinks her life is about to improve now she’s met her new publisher–the charming, self styled Robin Hood who owns the place. But she couldn’t be more wrong…
Anne’s blog is a must for writers. Do check it out regularly.
Her books can be found on Amazon. Here’s her author page which will get you all the goodies, including Camilla’s current adventure, Sherwood, Ltd.

Heather Marie Adkins – Latchkey Kid

Posted on by xtine in Indie Chicks | 3 Comments

Heather Marie Adkins

Latchkey Kid

 

It isn’t easy being the daughter of a police officer, but it’s even more difficult to be the daughter of a female police officer. I would come to understand this early, and often, in my life.

My mom’s career has always been the whirling force of my existence.

She was sworn into the Louisville Police Department on September 10, 1990. I was five years old. For the majority of my developmental years, I bounced through a succession of caretakers—my grandmother, my father and stepmother, and a kind woman I called ‘Mama Lo’—while my mom was forging her way through her early years as a rookie officer.

I remember late nights—my mom in her uniform, her gun belt digging into my side as she bundled me into a blanket to carry me to the car. I remember mornings getting on the school bus, knowing Mom would be coming home from work just in time for me to leave. But when I remember these things, they are snippets: Only bits and pieces of the woman who is my mother. Her job was demanding and sometimes, you just have to sacrifice to make your dreams come true.

When I was ten, Mom aced the Detective test and was granted her first promotion. Suddenly, we were buying a new house in a nice neighborhood. I was in middle school, which was awkward enough, and Mom began working 4 pm to midnight.

Thus began my time as a Latchkey Kid.

I rode the bus home from school and let myself into the house around 4:30 every afternoon. Under Mom’s strict instructions, I would check to make sure all three doors of the house were locked and then I would set the alarm.

Until bedtime, I was on lockdown. No going outside—not even to the backyard. No answering the door, no looking out the windows. Just me and the dog: A tiny Shih-Tzu named Cinnamon.

I was kind of an odd child. I didn’t care much for television, though I did love to play Nintendo. I could rock on some Mario Bros. I also absolutely loved to read, particularly R.L. Stine’s Goosebumps and Ann M. Martin’s The Babysitter’s Club.

There is really only so much video gaming and reading a girl can do before she wishes she had another hobby. At least, that’s how it was for me. I was lonely. Monday through Friday, every evening alone…it sucked.

It was around this time that my daddy shared with me a novel he was writing. Daddy is a computer guru who does freelance work, but he writes for fun on the side. “Demigod” was one of the most amazing things I had ever read. Not only was I astounded that my dad had such talent, but for the first time I realized there were people behind the books I liked to read.

Armed with nothing more than spiral-bound notebooks and pencils, I began writing.

Between 10 and 16, I wrote seven full-length novels. Today, I suppose they would be considered Young Adult. Some of them were murder mysteries with strong heroines. Many of them had elements of what today is considered Paranormal Romance. Most of my early influences were from authors I enjoyed: Stine, as well as Richie Tankersley Cusick and Christopher Pike. Somewhere in the midst of all this, my mom bought me a laptop and I transferred everything to digital.

I continued to write during high school, though significantly less once I got my driver’s license. I focused mainly on short stories and built up a vast collection that I ended up losing to the nightmare of an erased floppy disk. I majored in English in high school. Earned a couple college credits. And was told multiple times by various English teachers that I had talent.

After graduation, I went away to college at Western Kentucky University. My mother had married a great man who was also a police officer. Between the two of them, I was able to go away to school and thus started several years of BAD DECISIONS. I kicked it off right, as most first-time college teens do. I drank too much and partied too hard, not making it to class, much less spending my time writing. Two years later, I came home to Louisville with my tail between my legs, no smarter than I was before.

Back at my mother and stepfather’s home, I found the situation to be stifling for the girl who had done what she wanted, when she wanted for so long. I was already rebelling—not phoning, disappearing all night—when a chance encounter on the banks of the Ohio River brought a man into my life who was not right for me in more ways than one.

Jason was an ex-con and felon. I was the daughter of two police officers. Cue ominous music.

Let’s skip the dirty parts and go to the section where I pack my things and flee into the night like a bat out of Hades. My parents change the locks, I cut off all contact, and hole up in a hovel on 3rd Street with my friend, Brent. Oh, and in the meantime, my convict boyfriend ends up back in the Slammer.

I bounced around for some time. To an apartment with my cousin, Ryan. Then to a big, fancy house outside of Nashville, Tennessee with Jason’s family. After severing ties with them, I rented a tiny studio apartment downtown. I moved a couple more times, losing money (and myself) in the process.

Not once in the years I spent chasing something, anything in Tennessee did I sit down to write.

In January 2008, I was in debt and barely hanging on to the apartment I was renting. My good-for-nothing, pot-smoking boyfriend-of-the-moment wasn’t helping with the bills because he couldn’t hold a job. My car was on the verge of repossession. I was going nowhere; the only positive thing I did have was that I was talking with my parents again.

Then the life-shattering, earth-moving event. In North Carolina, January 31st, my cousin Cory—a Marine, a firefighter, one of my best friends—was killed in a car accident. He was 25 years old.

My mom drove from Louisville to Nashville the minute she heard. She told me it was because she didn’t want me to be alone, nor did she want to tell me something so sensitive over the phone. That’s just how she is; no matter how terrible a daughter I could be, she always put me first.

Later that same night after she left, I was alone. My deadhead boyfriend wasn’t home, neither was our equally stoned roommate. I was sitting on our single mattress on the floor, looking around our bare room with its one dresser and a floor strewn with clothes. It hit me.

What are you doing? Really?

Was I just trying to prove I could do it on my own? Because I couldn’t. Obviously.

In a flash of grief and pain, I realized my life had spiraled out of control simply because I was too stubborn to admit my parents were right.

I packed my things. My dog and I climbed in the old Jeep. And we came home to Louisville.

During the upheaval of moving back, I also found something I hadn’t yet realized I had lost—my writing. Whether it was my grief over Cory or simply returning home, I don’t know—but I started writing again.

Even better…I finished the novels I had started years before and I have started (and finished) even more in the time since.

I’ve been through a lot in my life. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as some, maybe it wasn’t as rough…but it shows that a girl can make bad decisions, life-changing mistakes, and still bounce back.

My mom is a Major with the Louisville Metro Police force—the third highest ranking female on the department. She just celebrated her 21st anniversary this month. I am in a stable, committed relationship with a man who will one day be my husband. We live in a small but nice home—I’m a police dispatcher. He’s a police officer.

I was a latchkey kid and because of it, I am now a writer. I am the daughter of a female police officer, and because of that, I’m a stronger, better woman.

This is one story from Indie Chicks: 25 Women 25 Personal Stories available on Amazon and Barnes & Noble. To read all of the stories, buy your copy today.

Also included are sneak peeks into 25 novels!

 

Abigail

Amazon US

Amazon UK

Barnes & Noble

Smashwords

You can see Heather’s outfit of choice at Literary Outfits!

What To Wear When You Use Your Superpowers To Save Your Best Friend

Posted on by xtine in Literary Outfits | 8 Comments
Vale - 2nd Try

 


Marc Jacobs long sleeve sweater
$695 - barneys.com

Pudel belted jacket
194 - farfetch.com

Converse leather shoes
$105 - mytheresa.com

Basile ruffle scarve
$98 - forzieri.com

During the first climactic scene of my paranormal mystery “The Temple”, Vale Avari rushes back to England from the States to save her best friend from a possible murderer.  Vale has a very tomboy-ish and dark style.  She loves blue jeans and Chuck Taylors and she wears a LOT of black because she thinks it looks good with her pale skin.  This is very close to the outfit she is wearing for her flight to England and her ride to the Temple, where her best friend’s life is in danger.http://www.amazon.com/The-Temple-ebook/dp/B0057XOQ1E

Vale Avari has a mysterious past and a laundry list of super-powers, but that’s nothing compared to what she finds upon moving from small town U.S.A to jolly-good England.

A chance dart throw lands her in Quicksilver, an off-the-map place with a big problem – people are dying, and word is, it’s supernatural.

At her new place of employment, a temple dedicated to the ancient Mother Goddess, Vale learns something even more shocking – women guards are disappearing at an alarmingly patterned rate; women who possess special gifts like her own.

Supernatural powers aside, Vale isn’t ready to believe in the Wild Hunt as the culprit, and she’s determined to prove the deaths are acts of human violence.

Plagued by a brute with a history of domestic violence and lusting after a dark-eyed man with a secret, Vale has a limited amount of time to discover the killer before he strikes again. In the process, she’ll learn things aren’t always what they seem and the supernatural might not be so extraordinary after all.

The Hunt could ride for her.



Check out my debut novel, The Temple, at these platforms
and my second release, Abigail, at these platforms.
Find me online at my blog!