Vonnie's Thirteen Reasons to LOVE Friday the 13th!

Thanks for having me here today, AJ. You said I could choose any date to come to Tattered Pages and laughed when I chose Friday the thirteenth. (Admittedly, I did. However, anyone who knows Vonnie, understands why I laughed. XO)

You see, the number 13 has been unlucky for centuries. Experts aren’t entirely sure why, either. The ancient Babylon’s Code of Hannurabi omits the number 13 on its list of laws, so the superstition dates back to at least 1700 BC. Even today, most tall buildings don’t have a 13^th floor.

The number’s association with Friday, however, didn’t take hold until the 20^th century. In 1907, eccentric Boston stockbroker Thomas Lawson published a book called Friday the Thirteenth, which told of an evil businessman’s attempt to crash the stock market on the unluckiest day of the month. Thanks to an extensive ad campaign, the book sold well—nearly 28,000 copies within the first week. Thus, began the whole Friday 13^th phenomenon.

So, I ask you, if a male author could start this whole Friday, the thirteenth nonsense, can’t a female author undo it? Let’s think about this for a few moments, shall we? I think you’ll agree that I present my case quite well.

13 Reasons why Friday the 13^th is NOT Unlucky

(Forgive the double negative)

ONE:  If you’re able to read this post, even with the aid of glasses, how can today be unlucky?

TWO:  If you have the physical agility to make…sigh…ah…to make your bed this morning, again I ask, how can today be unlucky?

THREE:  If your refrigerator is bare, and you need to go out for a six-pack, how can that be unlucky?

FOUR:  And if you’ve got a vehicle to drive to the store to get that six-pack, aren’t you also lucky?

FIVE:  If you have pets around you to brighten your life today, how can that be unlucky?

SIX:  If angels hover among us—and I believe they do—then how can today be unlucky?

SEVEN:  If you had clean tighty-whities to put on this morning…Oh. My. God…ahem, all that meat and no potatoes…sigh…how can today be unlucky?

EIGHT: If today’s hot enough for a dip in the pool, how can it be unlucky? Aren’t we blessed by water?

NINE: Or for that matter, if it’s so hot you want to take off your shirt, being lucky is having a shirt to take off. Right?

TEN:  If you have a hat to keep the sun from your eyes, then what grand luck you’ve got.

ELEVEN:  If you’ve got plenty of heels in your closet, how can that be unlucky? Don’t we love shoes? I know I do.

TWELVE:  If we find a grey hair today, isn’t that also a lucky find? I mean, ah….

THIRTEEN:  And if your pants are so tight, you have no room for your cell phone or keys, can we label that as unlucky? I don’t think so. Although I DO think I see my tube of maxi-thick-mascara…

Ladies, do you get my drift? What we make of any given situation creates the luck, not the situation itself or the date. We all have the ability to react either positively or negatively to whatever’s thrown at us. Perhaps not initially, when our nerves are raw with pain, but eventually.

Take my hero Win Fairchild in Those Violet Eyes. One could call him unlucky. He’s certainly been through hell and back. In Iraq he lost three of his buddies, part of his leg and some of his hearing. But Win’s determined to make his own luck. He’s determined to somehow make the world a better place, even though his mental world is a mass of mangled war debris.

Here’s an excerpt of the second time Win and Evie come face to face. Evie, a waitress at the Lonesome Steer honky tonk, goes back to the kitchen to introduce herself to the new cook.

      Evie charged through the swinging door to the kitchen and skidded to a stop. It couldn’t be. Although his back was toward her, there was no mistaking the height and broad muscled shoulders. This mystery nephew of Gus’s was the guy who’d remarked on her eyes. Her stomach did a little twitchy dance, nerves no doubt.
      She ran her suddenly damp palms over her short skirt and cleared her throat. “Excuse me. Win?”

No answer.

She took a couple steps closer and noticed he was washing vegetables under a spray of water. “Win?”

No reply.

Evie rolled her eyes and stepped behind him, tapping him on the back. The metal strainer clattered in the sink and a blur of motion barely registered before steely hands gripped her forearms. Oh my God! In a flurry of movement, he snatched her off the floor and backed her against the stainless steel counter. Cold wet hands viced her arms. Her eyes snapped wide and the air whooshed from her lungs when his body slammed into hers.

Win’s eyes were narrowed, his breathing rapid through a clenched jaw and a vein bulged in his forehead. “Don’t do that.”

The man was every inch the warrior, every hard tensed inch. He held her mid-air, so close they were nearly eyeball to eyeball. As his gaze traveled over her face and awareness evidently crept in as to the sex of his attacker, several inches of his frame hardened even more.

Evie swallowed. Oh, good Lord.

He glared and his nostrils flared.

“I…I’m sorry, Win. I called your name, but…but you didn’t answer. I was only trying to get your attention.” Her lips twitched at the humor in the situation—hadn’t Keira told her the man lost part of his hearing? Evidently she’d startled him. Poor soul. She felt a portion of herself return. A portion she’d hidden for so long; that light-hearted part of her soul that teased and cajoled. “Honest, I wasn’t trying to attack you.” She placed an open palm on his defined pecs and patted. “You’re safe with me, big guy.” Just to rattle him some more, she winked.

Win’s hazel eyes flashed for a second, then he slowly leaned in and whispered in her ear, “You’re not safe with me.”

A shiver galloped pell-mell through her. He smelled of pine soap and musk. His short, spiky, straw-colored hair tickled her neck when he lowered his head a fraction. Warm lips barely grazed her skin, igniting a sensual fire in her system. Her eyebrows furrowed in question. Had he just kissed her below the ear? It was so brief, so feather light her mind wasn’t sure. Her nipples, though, piped up in confirmation. Hell yeah, he kissed you! Me next, me next!

BUY LINKS:

THE WILD ROSE PRESS -- http://bit.ly/ThoseVioletEyes
AMAZON -- http://bit.ly/TVEVonnieDavis

Thank you so much, Vonnie, for being my guest today! I can't remember the last time I had such a great time on Friday the 13th!

XO AJ XO