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| Jana Vandelaar's Writing A Prince On A White Bike ALEX CASEY'S life is in a rut until she lands a dream job with an oil company in downtown Denver. On her first day, the elevator seems to take forever, especially when Alex has to wait next to the sexiest man she has ever seen. By the time the doors finally open, Alex is sure her elevator man is meant to take her to heights beyond her office on the twenty-second floor. If her mother knew how attracted Alex was to this stranger, she'd have the wedding chapel booked and the meatball appetizers cooked. For the first time in her life, Alex could mentally see herself cooking the meatballs with her mom... that is, until the man of her dreams leans towards her and quietly points out that she has a blob of lipstick on her front tooth. Eat the meatballs mom, this isn't the man. Or is he? A Prince On A White Bike is a refreshing ride full of fun adventures and even Alex's tendency to get lost in Denver's maze of confusing streets doesn't stop her from eventually finding her true path to happiness. A Prince On A
White Bike is a romantic comedy and is 63,000 words in length. Allergies Over The Atlantic What can an average girl with a tendency to have a sweaty upper lip, do to help protect her country? Flight attendant KAT ORION is faced with this very question when a government agency recruits her to help monitor targeted flights in and out of Trinidad and Tobago to look for drug smugglers. When she accidentally gives innocent passengers sleeping pills, stun guns a suspect’s exposed penis and almost burns down a nightclub during her undercover operation, Kat knows she’s in over her head. To add to the stress, her home in Key Largo, Florida is about to be repossessed and she takes on some odd side jobs for extra income. Posing with an overly friendly eel while scuba diving in a skimpy bikini and performing an underwater marriage to an oversexed couple in their eighties is bad enough, but when she has to take the couple in as new roommates, Kat’s life takes on a completely different turn of events. Especially when, MARTHA, the new bride, confesses that she’s a virgin and needs Kat’s sexual advice. Read Allergies Over The Atlantic to find out how Kat fumbles through advising an eighty year old virgin about sexual positions while trying to save the country and her house at the same time. It’s a laugh out loud romp both in the air and underwater. Mountains of Dough ANDREA BANKS is a newly divorced mom who moves her spoiled teen daughter, CHELSEY, and RALPH, their gigantic dog with a sensitive stomach, from money and a mansion in California to the mountains and a cabin in Winter Park, Colorado. She’s determined to start her life over as the town’s new baker, only to discover she doesn’t know how to bake in high altitudes. Andrea realizes her cookies aren’t the only thing burning in Winter Park when a ruggedly handsome ski instructor saves her from a trash loving bear. Could anything be worse than having the hots for a ski bum? Mountains of Dough shows Andrea that a new life in Winter Park might be an uphill climb, but reaching the top is worth all of the struggles, if she could just catch her breath at some point during the journey. WEEKLY COLUMNIST FOR NEWSPAPERS The Upper Keys Times in 2004 Waking
Up To A Combination Of Melodious Chaos (PDF) The Reporter (2008-present) DOGS MUST SWIM FOR DEAR LIFE ON JACK’S BOAT So, I go out of town for one day and my husband almost drowns Sushi, our youngest dog. Poor baby. This is how he fessed up over the phone as I was driving home: “Hi hon. Glad you’re back. Nothing much to report while you were gone. - Got the dishwasher emptied. Okaaaay. Gotta go. See you when you get home.” Ya know, I didn’t even want to know. Well, I did, but I didn’t. I hung up the phone and thought about our life here in the Keys with our dogs over the years. It’s amazing they’ve survived at all. Just a week before, I was out of town again when Sushi was almost a crocodile’s afternoon snack. Apparently my husband had left her safely on the boat for “just five minutes” after docking at a friend’s house to have a drink. The splash clued him in. Sushi had gotten lonely, jumped ship and was trying to swim for, well, anything. Jack got in the water to help Sushi get out from under the dock, just as his buddy shouted out a friendly reminder: “Uh, Jack, careful of the croc. He’s been living under there for a few years now.” So, having a dolphin save my dog didn’t seem too far fetched and, actually, almost tame compared to losing both my husband and pup to a croc. Our first dog together, Scuba, was a black lab who lived a glorious fifteen years with us. He loved the boat and water almost as much as his slobbery yellow tennis ball. Because of their love for water, Labs are the perfect dogs to have down here in the Keys. Unless they slip on the boat - at night - and hit the water so hard it knocks them out. Have you ever tried to find a black lab underwater at night? It’s not easy. Scuba rallied that night and went with us to the Bahamas via boat a few years later. **Something you should all note before you bring your dogs to the Bahamas by boat: >BOATS BREAK< Yep. We were stuck in the Bahamas with a broken boat. Our only option was to fly back home and let the Bahamians fix the boat (for thousands of dollars.) But, we had Scuba. We quickly discovered most airlines don’t allow dogs to fly as cargo in the middle of the summer. The hot weather makes it too dangerous. Hundreds of MORE dollars later and many prayers to the doggy angels above, we had him safely back home in the Keys after waiting for the temperature to drop to an acceptable level for BahamasAir to finally allow him to fly. The boat stayed for another month in an expensive slip until they could ship a part out to the Bahamas. Take a minute here to calculate the cost of that trip and understand why I drink from time to time. Snorkel, our thirteen year old Cairn Terrier also slipped off a boat while we were snorkeling years ago. We were about twenty feet from the boat when we heard the first splash and looked up out of the water. Scuba had jumped in and wanted to join us. We were a little concerned with him in the water because he was black, he looked like a seal, and we had just spotted a shark between us and the boat. In the same second, Snorkel was a little less sure but wanted to follow her big brother. She sort of slipped but caught herself somehow and actually hung onto the side of the boat with her two front paws. Kind of a funny visual. Don’t ask me how, but it’s true. Then again, as I said earlier, I do drink, so take it for what you will. Okay, so Snorkel was hanging on, we were swimming like maniacs to get Scuba safely back onto the boat, while we had the shark hungrily swimming underneath us. Snorkel’s little paws finally gave up and she plopped in the water too. It was mayhem. We all lived. I mean, it was just a nurse shark after all. But still a good story. Let’s face it, having dogs on boats makes life crazy in the Keys but I wouldn’t want it any other way. (Well, other than convincing my husband to actually put our doggy lifevests ON the dogs once in awhile.) p.s. The dolphin story is amazing though it varies… My husband: “Sushi was only in the water about five minutes before we missed her. We saw a pod of dolphins and asked them to help us find her. Next thing we know, there she is!” Our friend, Luis: “Sushi was missing about fifteen minutes when we saw a dolphin. The girls were on the bow of the boat yelling Sushi’s name, Jack was in the back of the boat begging the dolphin to help us find her and I was on the top of the boat looking for her little furry head. A few minutes later, we see the dolphin again, this time with Sushi. Amazing.” My daughter, Jacqueline: “I’m the one who spotted Sushi with the dolphin but Luis is the one who jumped in the water and saved her. It was so cool mom.” I need a drink. TOY STORES IN THE KEYS – FOR ADULTS My niece is having a bridal shower in a month and I called to ask my sister what I could contribute from afar. I’ll be arriving the night before, so I’m unable to assist in a lot of the preparation such as food, organizing, etc. She thought for a minute and then she said, “I think your best job would be the sex toy supplier.” Wow. That was totally unexpected. I figured she must be choosing me to do this unusual job for one of the three following reasons:
Though I’d like to personally believe her reasoning for my assignment is because of option #3 above, I think #1 and #2 are probably more likely. (My husband can pretty much vouch for this unfortunate truth. One of the worst fights we ever got into was when I asked him why he fell for me out of all his numerous romps in the past and his answer was because I was wholesome. It still ticks me off. Who wants to hear that as an answer? Give me anything else - sexier, funnier, smarter, richer. Anything. Wholesome? Gads.) Anyway, a few years ago, my sister and I were invited to another bridal shower and we both chipped in for the obligatory registered gift online. Then we had the present delivered to the bride-to-be. Very convenient. But also very predictable. I had wanted to shake this particular party up a bit, so I decided to take my 1st visit to our local adult store ever. (Maybe I am a little too wholesome…) I ended up bringing each of the guests their own pack of tic tacs shaped like a man’s, um, body part. I was suddenly considered the “wild” partygoer. And, yes, the party had been shaken. Then I drove home. I wimped out. So much for option #3 above – right? I begged a friend to meet me there the next day. She was a trooper and agreed, parking her mini-van next to my mini-van in the parking lot. Let me inject an important point here… something is definitely wrong if you have to hit an adult video store in a mini-van. Someone should write a law saying if you own a mini-van, you’re not allowed to go to one of these places. Still, visiting this store in the daytime seemed to make the entire venture a little more “wholesome.” So we went inside. Once inside, we went wild – well, wild for us. We cracked up over the unusual “toys”. So different than the toys at Toys “R” Us, where we’ve been shopping over the past six years. They had edible everything, freezer supplies, you name it. And, of course, they had the expected movies – rows and rows of them in fact. They had more clothing options than I had expected. I mean, come on. We live in the Florida Keys. How much stuff can you actually wear under shorts & a t-shirt? Or under a swimming suit, for crying out loud? Although it was very creative stuff, I thought it was pretty expensive for the lack of material used. I could have made some of these outfits out of a ball of yarn. And I don’t know how to knit. A couple of good sailor knots in strategic places and I’d have a duplicate outfit for 1/100th the cost. But on the whole, the store was very organized and clean. I mean, clean in the sense of not having any dust on the shelves. I even ran my finger on the glass shelf to check. I need the name of the person who does the cleaning. It was immaculate. The best part of the shop had to be the cards. Keep in mind, I’m not talking about Hallmark 2 for 1 cards here. If you can get past the shocking pop-ups, photos and cartoons on some of them, you can find some downright hilarious cards to choose from. I kept my dark sunglasses on during my entire visit, but I accomplished my mission. I had my boxes of body shaped tic tacs, some cards and a superior sense that I’ve finally morphed out of my wholesome image into a “hip” auntie/sister/friend. At my age, I’m kind of proud of it. The only bad thing is that I’m getting invited to too many bridal showers now. CHRISTMAS CLEANUP AND A FEW TWEAKS IN THE KEYS A few issues back, I wrote about Christmas here in the Keys. Well, this week, we’re putting all of our Christmas items back in the boxes and taking down the mistletoe. I’m also stashing the Christmas cards and newsletters received from family and friends. I’m the type who loves the pictures but I tend to disregard the newsletters. Oh, I’ll breeze through them, but what’s the use? No one’s life would compare to ours in this little piece of paradise. Right? However, any newsletters FROM the Keys are worshipped by outsiders. Therefore, it’s our responsibility to continue sending them out so our loved ones can drool with envy. Sounds harsh, but it’s reality. To help make your future Christmas newsletters spectacular, I’ve jotted down some Key points to remember: LENGTH CHOICE OF WORDS Dear Family and Friends, BRAGGING ABOUT OUR CHILDREN She goes to an elementary school that’s in the top 3rd of the county! My daughter has even picked up Spanish. TRAVELING TIDBITS We met some wonderful people from all over the world. JOB UPDATE AVOID THE TINY IMPERFECTIONS OF THE KEYS My skin is plumped nicely from all of the free injections I’ve gotten over the year. My sister says I’ve got a “dewy complexion” too. (Humidity can be a friend.) Finally, we’ve found a terrific yard crew. (Hurricanes & Rain) THE BIG FINALE Now, copy this and stash it away in your Christmas boxes until next December. It’ll help you crank out the perfect 2009 newsletter from the Keys without breaking a sweat. p.s. Go ahead and keep up that mistletoe in a place where your guests can clearly see it. They’ll want to kiss you over and over for having them come and visit. THE GRINCH WHO ATE FRUIT RIGHT OFF THE TREES IN THE KEYS – A CONFESSION We just got a new puppy which meant walking around my neighborhood a million times a day, for hours on end, waiting for her to pee outside instead of inside under our Christmas tree. Unfortunately, she didn’t seem to think any of the outdoor trees were worthy of her urine sample. Was she nuts? The trees in the Keys are better than any old indoor Christmas tree and I would have been honored to pee on any of them if I was a fuzzy little dog. We were surrounded by avocado, orange and key lime trees in full bloom complete with wondrous smells, not to mention the gorgeous blue Plumbagos which could rival any Tidy Bowl blue. Yep. She was nuts. She didn’t appreciate our natural Christmas surroundings like I did. A big black beetle scurrying from rock to rock seemed more important to her than the task at hand. My stomach rumbled and my patience wore out. “JUST PEE FOR GOD’S SAKE!” Of course that didn’t work at all. It only gave her something else to focus on instead of the stressed out beetle. When my stomach growled again, she cocked her head sideways and one of her floppy ears flipped over, showing the pink inside. She wagged her tail as if actually laughing at my discomfort. But then, what to my wondering eyes should appear? A reflection of Grinch in my car door’s eight-inch side-mirror. I was famished, my dog showed no sign of release, and I had temptation all around. Who could blame me for snatching the gorgeous fruit decorating my innocent neighbors’ trees? The goods were there for the pickin’ – so to speak – and I could blame my inner Grinch. I started with a few oranges from Lorraine’s house, then moved on to a luscious avocado from the Campbell’s across the street. I squeezed a little of Armi’s key lime on the avocado for flavor before slinking over to Liz’s house for a couple of mangos. Yum. And, on my way back home, I snatched a few bananas from the new neighbor’s tree. He’d never miss them. Then, suddenly I saw, with my beady little eyes, the dessert of all desserts, just past Charlie Gambino’s drive. A gorgeous fat tree, full of star fruit. The best of them all, a golden loot. I plucked it, then sucked it, and crunched it, and munched it. My dog must have whimpered, but I couldn’t care less. I wanted that starry fruit, it was the best. Can you believe she barked, and ratted me out? Charlie opened the door and gave me a shout. He was chubby and plump, and not usually jolly, but he held in his hand a big basket, by golly. I looked inside and laughed - in spite of myself! The basket had ten star fruit arranged by this old elf. When he winked with his eye and nodded his head, I figured out I had nothing to dread. Then he said Merry Christmas to you, and… DON’T FORGET TO PICK UP THAT POO!! My dog had POOPED! Coming to my senses, I thanked Charlie profusely, scooped up the poop and shamefully headed home. Wow. A little hunger spasm and I morph into a Grinch who steals from neighbors – one of which is a Gambino! I was nuttier (and stupider) than my dog! As I wrote out confessions and thank you notes to all my neighbors for their bounty, I lovingly glanced over at my new puppy just in time to see her pee under the Christmas tree. I sighed, got the carpet cleaner out and grabbed a Christmas cookie from the counter as I headed towards the tree. Actually, it’s probably better this way. There’s just too much temptation outside the Keys. p.s. Can puppies get electrocuted if they pee on Christmas lights? For more information about Jana's writings, please email Jana by clicking here |
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