Soul Song - A Tribute to Amy Winehouse

Regan Worth

Blown away. I mean, everyone is saying they expected it, that she was headed that way, that all the drugs and alcohol would do her in. I did not expect it. Like Amy, I've had my drunken escapades. I even sang my own version of Rehab once, but that's a story for a different day. So maybe part of why I'm shocked is that me and Amy are so similar. But there's more to it than that. You see, Amy Winehouse is my muse.

The first time I heard her sing carried me back to a speakeasy in New Orleans. I must have been 21 or 22. Hanover and I were between adventures and we were kicking back, listening to my daddy play. A jazz singer took the stage, not a frail wrath like the girls who usually sang, but a curvaceous black woman. Her voice was throaty and full. I pictured that woman as I listened to Amy sing "Back to Black".

The first time I saw Amy's picture, I said "No way! That tiny young girl cannot have a voice that large." But she did. Her music resonates with my soul. And that's what I will remember about Amy Winehouse -- not the sad way she left this realm too young, but as the largest voice I've heard in recent years. Rest in peace, Amy Winehouse. Or better yet, may your soul sing forever.

The Reunion

Sorry we haven't checked in with all of you lately. Toledo and I have been working closely with the writers to get the next book right. It's been an emotional time for both of us -- and I don't like emotional times.

The Reunion is a coming of age story of sorts. It's a story of firsts and lasts. In it, Toledo and I both lose something, but we gain something too.

When can you read it? Very soon. The writers wrapped it up last night and sent it to the beta reviewers. But while you're waiting, if you haven't read the earlier books, now's your chance to read them cheap (or even free). But you'll have to do it soon...the Smashwords Winter/Summer sale only goes through July. Here's a link to From the Gator's Mouth. It's free and I'm partial to it. It is the story of my birth, after all.  http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/17401?ref=rachellereese

Regan Looks at the Calendar

So it turns out I was wrong about my Daddy moving on. He came to visit me this morning. EARLY this morning. I'm glad and everything..I mean I was really missing him all week, worrying that he'd moved on. But SIX in the morning? WTF? He should know better after all these years. I mean, Saturday night is party night. Sunday morning is for sleeping.

Anyway, he kissed me on the cheek and said, "Good morning, Princess."

I opened my eyes and saw him standing there, dressed in his best white suit he wore when he performed that last time. "Daddy! You didn't leave me."

"Of course I didn't leave you."

"But you didn't come last Sunday and you always visit me on Father's Day."

"Today is Father's Day, Princess." He laughed and rumpled my hair. "You still can't keep your dates straight, even after all these years."

I guess he's right. Days just pass most time and I can't keep them straight.. There are too many people, too many parties, and too many battles. And time just moves on around me. But at least I still have my Daddy. Happy Father's Day, Daddy, for real this time.

Daddy's Girl

People have called me a Daddy's girl most of my life. And I'd be the last person to deny it. See, I was a Daddy's girl...still would be if I had my way. Not only did my Daddy raise me, he was awesome. Everyone respected him, even if they didn't like him.

Of course, there were people who didn't like him...people who were jealous of his talent. He could play piano like nobody's business. That's how he got his nickname -- "Blazing Fingers Worth" -- sure he was a bootlegger when the prohibitionists tried to deny our right to party, but the nickname came first and had nothing to do with guns or hooch.

It's not that me and Daddy never squabbled. We did...of course we did. I was as strong-minded then as I am now...maybe more so. But we always loved each other deep inside. We still do...sure I know he still loves me because I can see him like I can still see Mommy. They're between realms and can't pass through. No one sees them except me and I don't see them always. But Daddy usually drops by on my birthday, his birthday, Father's Day, Christmas, and sometimes when I'm under too much stress.

Are you kidding me? It's Father's Day? I haven't seen you today, Daddy.  Does that mean you've moved on beyond the weave? I guess that's ok, if it's a nice place. But you know me, Daddy. I want you here with me forever. There's still a few hours left...maybe you're just running late. I hope so.

Meet Swampy

Agatha

Hanover asked me to talk about Swampy. I told him my clumsy claws have no business pounding little keys and that he should talk about his godfather, but he gave me those pleading eyes -- you know, the ones children learn at about 4 months -- so I told him it's his own fault if I break this thing. So here goes.

If you've read From the Gator's Mouth, you know that the Swamp Rat, as I call him, can't form a complete sentence to save his life. He has a habit of hunting my gator children, and when he was a young man, had a tendency to fool with my nymphs. He grew out off that, but you'll have to wait until until "The Reunion" comes out to find out why. I'm not spoiling that secret.

What I will tell you is that from the time he was a child, I liked the Swamp Rat. Of course I didn't let on. He called me Hag and for good reason. Whenever I went to see him, I shifted from my gator form to a two-legged form that is not quite what you see here in this photo. That I had to learn...and believe me, it was not easy.

Swampy

Why not let him see me as a gator? That was his great-grandmother's idea. Amadahy. She was a good nymph, but she fell in love. Most nymphs don't, you know. But Amadahy did. And she asked me to reverse what I had done -- to make her mortal. When she conceived a child, she asked me to stay away so that the child would be normal. Two generations later, when the last of her nymph blood was gone and she was dying, she came to me and asked me to make sure the Swamp Rat got along fine. I'd say I kept my promise. But then, I always do.

Thoughts on Compassion

Toledo Cats

My father said to my mama, not long after they first met, You do not need to hide your tears from me. The desert sand holds the salt of many tears. Yours will only enrich it with their power.

Mama embodied compassion. The turnout we had for Blog Tour de Troops proved there are an abundance of truly compassionate people. Many just need a vehicle to express it. I feel the blog organizers and participants gave them that.

Last night the Indie Book Collective announced that the participants are donating 10,000 ebooks to the troops.  As many of you who commented here noted, that's 10,000 opportunities for a soldier to get a little escape -- a little piece of mind. Thank you all for stopping by and commenting here and on the other blogs in the tour to make this possible.

When I look around, I see other acts of compassion too. People like the woman in this article who risk their own lives and health to help the victims of the Fukushima earthquake, tsunami, and nuclear disaster. People who spend their time working to educate people, reunite lost animals with their owners and find homes for abandoned pets. These people are true heroes. They are people Mama would be proud to call her friends.

Smoker's Rant

Regan Worth

Mary just informed me that it's World No Tobacco Day. Can you believe that? I figured she'd made it up to annoy me, but then I looked it up.

Sure enough, she was right. They created yet another way to torment us smokers. First smoking gets banned in restaurants, then in bars, and now there are some places where I can't even light up outside unless I'm hunkered down behind a garbage bin or something.

Puh-lease! Back in the day, they knew how to treat smokers. I'd sit in a bar and draw on my long jeweled cigarette holder. Hanover would offer a light. Then he'd light up his pipe and we'd sit smoking, drinking, and listening to jazz. No more. Now I have to down my drink and step outside to get my nicotine fix. I mean, talk about a health risk! I could catch pneumonia standing there in the cold and rain. Not to mention what the rain does to my hair.

And Hanover'll tell you, hunkering down in an alley is not a safe way to have a smoke. There are dangerous things in those shadows. And for some of us, those things are far more deadly than a little puff of smoke.