Author Archives: viola62

About viola62

I am a teacher by day and a writer by night. I live in New Orleans with my loving husband and write historical fiction, mysteries, and contemporary romance. New Orleans is frequently a character in the book, but I also traverse continents in my quest to bring my characters to life.

The Letter that Inspired Love at War

I’m not sure this blog posted in January, so I wanted to re-post. I think th portions of the letter are quite moving.   The Letter That Inspired Love at War:     I don’t like to think of myself … Continue reading

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Keeping Up and Reducing Clutter

I’m not sure my last blog post made it to publication, so I’m publishing one a little early! Keeping Up and Reducing Clutter:   I have a stressful job, a fulltime husband, and a challenging writing career. Lately, my life … Continue reading

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Losing and Finding Love

Losing and Finding Love:   I wasn’t sure where I’d begin or what I’d say on this blog today.  As some of you know, I am a teacher by day, and this semester was especially brutal. I fell behind in … Continue reading

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Spaghetti and Meatballs and Love at War

Spaghetti and Meatballs and Love at War:   I first wrote my historical romance Love at War shortly after my mother’s death.  I’d read the letters her brother Russell had sent home to his parents and to his wife Vivian.  … Continue reading

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The Goddess of Spinning

The Goddess of Spinning:   I live with stress! I have a full-time job as a public school teacher, a full-time husband who craves my affection (we are very compatible physically and emotionally), and a thriving writing career that keeps … Continue reading

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Summer Vacation, Hurricane Hunting and Romance:

Summer Vacation, Hurricane Hunting and Romance:   My hubby and I have taken some spectacular vacations together.  We have cruised to Alaska, spent glorious times in Seattle, honeymooned in Jamaica at Christmas, toured Boston as well as its environs, caught … Continue reading

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Channeling the Past

The Original Jude Mooney   When I was eight-years-old my father stopped speaking. He’d suffered a stroke and was “lucky,” as the doctors described it, to have the use of his legs.  No, he never really spoke again except for … Continue reading

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