Dear Reader,
     For those of you who read my first book, It'll Feel Better when it Quits Hurting, hello again old friend. For my new Readers, welcome and I hope you enjoy it. Please be assured, although this is the second book in the series, they were each written to stand on their own, independent of my other books. I promise I will not leave you wandering through these pages wondering what is going on.
     As I shared in my first book, while writing these memoirs, it was my intention to bring you the story of my life, not as someone looking back, but from my singular point of view, as it was happening. I tried not to foreshadow upcoming events, nor did I want to interject the present into the past. I wanted you, dear reader, to experience my life as I did, unknowing of the future, learning as I went, growing and maturing in each story. I am not always the hero of my narrative, I did not always make sound judgment calls, and I made some truly astounding mistakes. But life is like that for everyone, and it would not be an honest telling if I did not share the dark moments along with the light.
     I want you to know, dear reader, for all the darkness that creeps in, what my books are about is laughing. At the absurdity of life, feeling joy in the simple act of being, and accepting even when life isn't perfect, it can be wonderful. This is simply, my life as I have lived it, and I hope along the way you will laugh with me, maybe roll your eyes, groan and shake your head, eager to turn the next page to see where the train wreck ends. And I hope when you reach the end and close the book, you will pause for just a moment and think, "Damn, that was a helluva ride!", and in that brief moment, you can imagine me sitting next to you, with a grin on my face, nodding in agreement.
     For the last two years, I poured my heart, soul, and every spare moment of time I was able to carve out of my life into creating the book you hold in your hands. It is unfortunate, yet true, as an Indie author I do not have the full backing of a professional editorial staff, but that does not mean I did not try with all due diligence to bring you a book free of errors. If there are any editing errors still lurking within these pages, I give you my sincere apologies.      English is an unwieldy language, even for native speakers, only made worse by my dyslexia, and my fast & loose use of the language at the best of times. To paraphrase James Davis Nicoll, "English doesn't borrow from other languages. English follows other languages down dark alleys, knocks them over, and rummages through their pockets for loose grammar." Please know, it was not for lack of care that any mistakes remain in the book, and you will forgive me for them if you find any.
     I would like to thank every person who read my first drafts and gave their honest feedback. My thanks to Alex, for his wonderful illustrations. To Cory, for helping me laugh when I wanted to cry. To Millie, who came to my rescue and helped me write the blurb and saved me from banging my head against the wall. To my family, and their support of my words, despite the fact at times my books are not always kind or flattering, and accepted my words for what they were, an honest account of my life that was never meant to be intentionally hurtful. To every person that has continued to encourage me to write, eager for the next installment, there is a special place in my heart for you, thank you. But most of all, I would like to thank you, dear Reader, for taking a chance on an Indie author. I realize that you have chosen to spend your hard-earned money, and precious time with me, and it is genuinely appreciated.
     Before I end this and we continue to the actual stories, I thought I would share with you how the cover image came to be. If you're not interested, you can skip the rest of this, otherwise, please enjoy this short funny.

     Once I decided to release a sneak peek in July of 2016, I found myself in desperate need a book cover. Always the problem solver, I ran to my local liquor store, purchased six bottles of wine (I wonder if I can take those off as a business expense, hmmm...) and returned home. Conscripting Cory, he took one for the team and helped me drink half of those bottles (kicking & screaming on the inside the whole time I'm sure) while wandering around the yard with my camera looking for the best place to take the photos.
     As I was engaged in this earnest activity, my teenaged daughter walked, much to her surprise, into being drafted to help me take the photos the following morning when my yard would be full of bright sunlight. (A terrible oversight on my part while nursing a slight wine hangover the next morning.)   At first reluctant to help, she quickly changed her mind and jumped on board when I told her how much professional photos would cost me. (Never underestimate the power of teenaged self-interest when it comes to money) She agreed not only to help; she volunteered to get up before her usual at the crack of noon on the weekend.
     At 10 o'clock on a bright and sunny Sunday morning (hangover notwithstanding), I set up the tripod, poured a glass of wine and for the next hour, laughed and drank, as my daughter made fun of me while taking over 200 photos. From those 200 plus photos, we narrowed it down to 20, and after a bit of debate, down to three photographs that I played with on my computer until I settled on the cover you see now.
     So, yes, that's me, drinking wine, in my backyard at 10 o'clock on a Sunday morning while my daughter laughed at me. I suppose I could have used props, gathered up empty bottles from friends, and used grape juice instead, but where would be the fun in that?

And now, without further ado...
                     Wine Comes in Six-Packs â˜º