Be Nice To Your Muse!

Hello! I am Kendra Mei Chailyn (Kadian Tracey) and I am very happy to be a part of this blog! I don't write M/M but I figure every writing has a muse or two or three! I write interracial (mostly) Sensual and sweet romance. I figure addinga touch of heat to certain thing is a good thing. *winks*

The Muse--There's a topic I hadn't written about that in a long time. My muse hadn't gotten that much use this year because I spent most of the year researching about Egyptian Mythology.  Sure, I did some research for my two Shadowcat books. Those had to deal with giant Kyphur cats so it was pretty cool. This research is into a Egyptian God that is lesser known and with that said it takes a lot of digging to find enough, trusting info on him. It's strange how much dusty papers I have to go through and the looks I get when I walk up to librarians and hand them my paper lol.

So let me start my saying this...when it comes to my writing, my head let everybody in!

But that's another blog all together. Today we're here to talk about my Muse.  The strange thing about how I write is that anything can be my muse. The other day I was walking down the street and saw a lady with an orchid in her hair and I get this idea for my story ...The Thing About Love is... and today I was sitting at work talking to this woman on the phone and bam! here comes Pulse. I don't stick to one thing or person and say this is my muse and nothing else! Whenever I get an idea, I hold

on to it for a few days, and if it morphs into this nagging obsession, I begin fleshing it out. My muse
(whatever it happens to be at that time) will keep talking and I keep writing until the story - the skeleton of the story at least- is finished. Then I go in, and do a complete rewrite. When that's finished I see what my muse thinks.

One of the scary sides of the Muse appears when a few of them are in my head at the same time, and they all decide to have a conversation with me, telling me what their stories should be like.  The day I got the idea to write my story In The Name of Love I was sitting by Lake Ontario, just staring at the water. This idea for the story hits me followed closely by another idea for my Egyptian Mythology story and fairly fast after that a second book for In The Name of Love. Of course I ignored the second book idea, I really don't do series--not really my thing (grins yet still after I got it accepted at Passion in Print - they requested the second story - so I wound up writing it anyways!). On another hand, some may argue the scariest part of the Muse is when it's not talking-when all is quiet on the western front--you know, no story ideas? We call that writer's block.

When that happens I find I get irritated, muttering to my muse asking it why hath thou forsaken me? In all honest sometimes I find its better for our muse to take breaks - why? It gives us time to breathe and remember that our mind needs time to re-coop from all we've put it through throughout the past few months of a year in some cases. Just because our muse is always there for us we often times take it for granted. We ignore stories, refuse to write stories or conform to other people's muses throwing tantrums. So, sometimes our muses decide they aren't going to take this crap anymore, pack their things and leave you a Dear John letter.

Moral?

Be nice to your muse. Feed it, nourish, grow it and once in a while? Give it something a little naughty.

You can thank me later *wiggles brows* lol

Contest time - please follow my blog or comment on this post and you will be entered to a free read of Shadowcat 1 & 2.

Please follow the hop with the other authors! I'm sure they will love to have you visit!



Love,
Kendra Mei Chailyn (Kadian Tracey)
Follow me on twitter: @kendramechailyn

What Summer Means...

And it is here like a bat out of hell!

Remember when we were kids we couldn't wait for summer break? I mean first we had no school! Then we knew we could go to the beach, vacation, spend MORE time with our friends, go to movies, fireworks, festivals, carnivals, Caribana! But damn - for me summer has changed into something I barely recognize.

It's kind of weird because it's finally summer and I just got into writing for the summer break when WHAM! I start getting emails for Chrismas Submissions.  I thought about it and so far I haven't been able to write much for Christmas story. Maybe its because I'm Canadian and after winter is gone, I mentally block out everything to do with the freezing cold but I am officially blocked.

Anyways, with summer here comes all the things of summer I've come to dislike over the years. Why? Well first of all its so warm outside and inside.  Now, this gives everyone the license to go outside wearing little to no clothing! Don't get me wrong--I love walking around partially naked like the next guy - but I do that in the privacy of my own home.  The ones I see, I often time ask my friends "where is the rest of her skirt?" or saying "That is NOT a dress!"  or "Seriously! Who is she fooling with that? That's her panties! That is not shorts!"

That means allergies, for one, allergies so bad it makes you want to gouge your eyes out, pave every patch of green surface you can find then rub your nose into a blanket until it falls off. Oh yes, my allergies get so bad. Most of the pills for that make me so drowsy even when they say they don't so the one pill I can take is the one that takes about half an hour to kick in. By them my nose is burning, my eyes are itching, my throat is scratch--not cute.

But, though those are two things I dislike about the summer months, I also like it because I normally go to places to motivate me in my writing--places like old churches and food festivals like Taste of the Danforth or Rib fest - all kinds of good stuff. But lately, I find myself slacking on doing things in the summer. Perhaps it stems from my rampant disregard for my mental stability as things just seem to be heaped atop my head in the past few months. But whatever the reason I haven't had much interest in going out and doing anything.  And with that I find my three works in progress have stalled or have taken on turns I never expected them to--turns that will require major rewrites at a later date.

Recently, summer means writer's block. Three other stories, Runt of the Pack, Captain Dragonheart's Woman and Rosetta Stone (yes, I'll probably have to change that title) have been on the back burner for almost two years now. For some reason, I can't seem to write these. The first two are not contemporary so that is probably why, but the last one, I have no idea why its taking me so long to complete it. It's a more indepth story and I want to write. But something just won't let me go beyond where it sits now at about 10, 000 words. Perhaps its because whenever I open the file I re-read all that is there because it has been so long since I actually ready the story I have to get re-accustomed to the characters. But whatever the reason, I figure once I have a chance to go away and just do nothing but photography, eat junk food and enjoy the sunlight for a day or two, the urge to write them will come back. 

But anyways,

Summers, lately, have morphed into something I never expected. Not sure how to tackle it, but let see how this one will go.

hugs,
Kendra

New Release: Cowboy Lullaby!

Title: COWBOY LULLABY

Author: Kadian Tracey

Genre: Interracial, Sensual Romance

Length: Novel

Now Available in eBook

Abuse is something Jennifer Cozel knows very well.

Growing up with a father who hates her, Jennifer suffered through hell. After her father gets killed in a drunk driving accident with no will, no money, eighteen year old Jennifer Cozel is left to fend for herself.

She moves to Barley and settles into the mundane existence of small town waitress she believes she deserves. That is until Sherif Rone Jennings steps into her life with a glimpse into a world she so desperately yearns for.
But how do you fix someone that is so horribly broken?

Sheriff Rone Jennings takes one look at Jennifer Cozel and wants her. Something about her just screams a real woman. But getting to know the volutuous waitress is not easy for she is fighting him at every turn. When he finds out about her past, anger like he never felt before surges through him but what good will that doo? Rone is determined to not only help Jennifer heal, but to make her see not all love is painful

EXCERPT

What day is it?

The rain had long stopped pounding against the class and the old tree just to the right of her window hadn’t crashed into the side of the house for a good ten minutes. Still those thoughts seemed almost trivial to what was happening inside Jennifer Cozel’s mind. Her heart didn’t care as well for it was too busy pounding inside her chest as though it wanted to hop out and run away. Another loud bang sounded from somewhere in the house and she jumped. Her eyes caught the chest behind the door then lifted to see if the door handle would twist to the right then to the left. When nothing happened but another loud crash of something hitting the wall hard, she shifted slightly to alleviate the pain her legs were starting to send through her.

Jennifer trembled at her father's footsteps storming through the house. He'd been on one of his binges again which put him in a mood. Two days of a steady intake of alcohol with no food always did that to him. Each morning she had to lug the bag of liquor bottles to the recycle bin at the back of the house once he’d gone off to work or fallen asleep after a night of hard drinking. Lately, she’d made more than two trips. How one person could drink so much and still be able to function was beyond her. The nights when his favorite baseball team lost were the worst and the mornings after even harder.  She learned a long time ago to stay out of his way when he drank for when he was drunk the really mean side of him came out—which was all the time. The sad truth was Jennifer couldn’t remember a time when her father was sober. He drank to wake up, drank to fall asleep and drank to silence the demons inside his head. She often times heard him yelling at them when he wasn’t screaming at her. He drank when he was happy, when he was sad but most importantly, he drank whenever he looked at her then sobbed. As far as she knew his problem was her fault.

Whenever he was really hammered, he remembered his dead wife and Jennifer paid for it because he would break into her room and beat her until she was unconscious. Afterward, he’d fill a bucket with cold water and toss it in her face. That was a horrid way to wake anyone up for she’d jerk upright, screaming then clawing at her neck. The cold water against her body left her gasping for breath.

Jennifer would never get used to that.

She was on her final semester in high school and was pretty sure she was going to fail.  She'd been cooped up in her room for three days for her father forbade her to go to classes.  He saw school made her happy. He couldn’t touch her while she was at school and every fibre of him hated that. When she was at school she was someone—people knew who she was. After she turned eighteen, the county no longer required her to go to school. If she missed too many classes no one would call the house or threaten to call child services. He smirked as he told her she was no longer to leave the house for school, as a matter of fact—she must no longer leave the house period. Jennifer was terrified so she listened and remained hidden in her room.

 Whenever she heard the car leaving, she would peer out her window and watch until the car had long since gone before tiptoeing out of her room to get something to eat. But she couldn't take anything he would miss.  Luckily she'd stashed a couple of Jamaican buns with a tin of cheese in her room so all she really needed was water. As long as she didn’t open the can with the cheese, she could keep it hidden in her room for as long as she needed. Filling her traveler’s mug with cold water she drank the whole thing and refilled it. The next thing on her list was to look around ensuring nothing was moved or out of place before returning to her bedroom, locked the door and shoved her chest holding her sheets behind it.

          The buns she'd bought were getting smaller. Jennifer wasn't sure how much longer they would last. After that she was out of money, out of food and out of luck. Sometimes her best friend would sneak something over and she would quickly eat it. Gale was good for Jennifer, but she couldn’t let her father know about Gale.  When she was ten, her father came home to Jennifer sitting in the living room with another little girl from school.  After he pushed the girl out the door and tossed the books after her, he tied Jennifer to a tree outside until the next morning. He then cut her loose and left her lying there weak and half starving.

She made a mental note to see if she could get a couple extra shifts at her school cleaning up after the girl's rugby team. If she could manage that she should be good for what she needed for a little bit while she scrounged for more.

          Breaking a piece of the bun off, Jennifer shoved it into her mouth. The sweet of it flooded her senses, causing her to moan and rest helplessly against the bed.  Her eyes caught the scars on her leg when she stretched them out before her.  Swallowing the lump in her throat, Jennifer used her free hand and tugged her dress down to cover them. When it didn’t cover her ankles, she curled her legs beneath her bum and took a breath. Suddenly she wasn't hungry anymore.

          In a state of heightened fear, she sat in the same position until her legs cramped, throbbed then went numb.  Still, she daren't move. The darkness flowed in through the window and still she didn't move. Her eyes burned and from time to time she forced herself to blink.  Though she yearned for sleep, she couldn't. Every time her eyes closed she remembered her father then jerked awake.  He was drinking that evening.

She wouldn’t be getting any sleep.

          A loud bang on the front door pulled her upward. She grabbed the bun she'd still have out, wrapped it up and shoved it into her bag. She pushed the bag under her bed and pulled the sheets down over it. Glancing around to ensure nothing was out so he could see if he broke in. She took a breath and rose.  Her legs trembled, weak by the position they'd been in for such a long time.  She slumped forward, catching herself on the edge of the bed. Shaking her legs, Jennifer tried working out the numbness. When she finally got some feeling back into her legs, she had to wiggle them more to get the pins and needles feeling out. 

          The knock came again.

          The fact she'd missed a car pulling up was scary to her. But she was exhausted. The knock sounded once more and by this time, Jennifer sucked in enough courage to actually leave her room.  She pulled the chest from before the door, and stuck her head out.  The hallway was spotless, silent.  The walls were devoid of pictures. The halls empty of any kind of fixture except a solitary light bulb on at the end of the hall on the centre wall.

          On the tips of her toes, she scurried from her room and peered over the balcony before hurrying down the stairs.  She peeked into the scantily furnished room.  Marshal wasn't there. When she got to the front door, she pulled her sleeves down over her arms, took a breath and pulled the door open.

          To her shock and relief her father wasn't standing there. Instead, two police officers faced her.

          "May—may I help you?" Jennifer asked softly, ensuring not to meet their eyes.

          "Hi, your name?" one asked. He gave her a grim smile, one she’d recognize anywhere. Jennifer was used to sadness.

          "Jennifer, Jennifer Cozel."

          "Do you know a Marshall Cozel?"

          Jennifer nodded. She couldn't speak for the lump in her throat just wouldn't allow the words to come out. Clearing her throat, she tried again. “He’s my father.”

          "I'm afraid we have some bad news." The other officer spoke up. "Your father was killed a little earlier in an accident."

          Jennifer stood before the police officers with her arms wrapped around herself. If her father was dead it was no accident. He was probably too wasted or too hung over to see where he was going and crashed into a tree.

          "Did you hear me ma'am?" the cop asked. "Your father is dead. He ran a red light and was struck by a drunk driver going the other way."

          I knew it.

          Eighteen year old Jennifer blinked, then nodded. "I heard you. He was drinking.”

“We figured. There was a bottle of Jack Daniels in the car after they managed to cut him out with the Jaws of Life.”

“Did anyone else got hurt?” she whispered.

“Yes. The driver in the other car but nothing life threatening.”

“What’s good. My father is always drinking.”A sinking feeling pulsed through her, leaving her feeling empty. Still she was left with a profound sense of something urgent, something on the point of breaking inside. "Thank you for informing me officers," Jennifer squeaked. "Where can I...can I..."

          "His body is at the morgue." One of the cops handed her a card.  "You can go here and identify it."

          She wrapped her fingers around the card and nodded again. They probably thought she was a bloody mute.

          "We're really sorry for your loss."

          She smiled tightly and backed into the house and closed the door.

In the Name of Love!

After a long wait, my brand new title is available for sale! You can snag your copy from Passion in Print. Or by clicking here.  Here is a peek and the blurb.

If Jessa isn’t afraid to beg for forgiveness, she could make her wildest dreams come true.

Jessa Phillips has the life she’s always dreamed of—a thriving wedding gown boutique, a loving sister and a wonderful brother-in-law. The only thing missing is the love of her life, Cassius Oppa.  But her bubble is about to burst when her sister is in a severe car accident and on her death bed reveals a secret that changes everything.

The night his courtship of Jessa Phillips went horrible wrong, a young Cassius Oppa packed up, jumped on his motor cycle and fled the small town.  After spending days homeless, he sold his family’s prized guitar and joined the Air Force.  Years later, he’s out and living his dream when Jessa Phillips turns up on his doorstep.  A storm is brewing and after, what will be left?

Excerpt:

Jessa scanned through the racks of white wedding dresses. It was taking too long. This bride was starting to get on Jessa’s last nerve. Finding a gown in the back of the stack, she pulled it out and held it up to the light. The dress wasn’t going to work—she could just feel it. The truth was she was running out of options. It was as if the woman didn’t understand Jessa had a life outside the damn store. Stopping, she took a deep breath, closed her eyes in an attempt at reigning in her quickly shortening fuse. All she had to do was pick the perfect dress for the overly picky bride without killing her and things would be perfect. She glanced at the clock. Time was quickly running out or she would have to work overtime. She finally found a dress, said a small prayer and slipped a smile to her lips. 

            If this chick doesn’t like this dress I swear someone is going to have to bail me out of jail!

            She brought the dress into the room where the soon-to-be bride sat and held it up. “All right,” Jessa said, hanging the dress up and slipping the protective covering off. “This dress I found in our storeroom. It’s two thousand over your budget but you said price wasn’t an option.”

            While the woman’s maid of honor, mother-in-law, and her sister waited in the sitting room, Jessa helped her client put on the dress and pinned up the back properly so it fit. She then walked her client back to her entourage. “So? What do you think?”

            “Well,” the bridge-to-be started. She turned one way, then the next, looking at herself in the mirror. Her family was sitting there with looks of amazement, but Jessa was beyond giving a damn anymore. They’d been at it for at least three hours and Jessa just wanted to go home. “What do you think?”

            “This is the dress!” The bride flailed happily.

            “You’re serious?” Jessa questioned, fixing the veil.

            “Yes! I love it!”

            Finally!

            The woman hugged Jessa so tightly she thought she was going to burst. But she finished up the sale, put in the order for the wedding dress and after the wedding party left, she turned around and stared at the empty store. Rushing, she closed the front door before someone else walked in. She’d long since sent home her two other consultants and wasn’t about to handle another bride by herself that day. Her temper wouldn’t hold out—she knew it.

            She stared now at the cash register with contempt. Now she had to cash it out and do all the mathematics for the day’s sales. She set it up to print the day’s receipt and was going to get some coffee when the telephone rang.  Arching a brow, she glanced at the clock debating whether or not to pick it up.

            With a roll of her shoulders, she reached for the cordless and trudged her way towards the back room. “Happily Ever After, Jessa speaking. How may I help you?”

            “Is this Jessa Phillips?” The voice questioned.

            “Yes. Who’s calling?”

            “My name is Andrew Mullings from the Mercy of Grace Hospital. I’m calling about your sister, Kelly.”

            “What about her?”

            “I’m sorry to be the one to inform you of this.” His voice cracked. “But your sister is in surgery. If you could…”

            He didn’t have time to finish for she had dropped the phone and was reaching for the keys. The cash register was still going but she couldn’t wait for it. If her sister was in surgery, she couldn’t really stop to wait the hour it took to cash out. With her cell phone and keys, she darted through the door, -only stopping long enough to turn off the lights and lock the doors behind her- then ran as fast as her stilettos could carry her to her Corvette. She sped from the parking lot, zooming into traffic without looking. That caused a whole bunch of horns to blare, but Jessa couldn’t care. She sped through a yellow light. Her heart hammered against her chest as worry danced through her mind. When she spoke to her sister the day before, Kelly was ecstatic. She was getting married in three weeks and her career had finally taken off. What in the world could have happened between that conversation and the end of the day?

            She got caught behind a truck. Rage surged through her veins as she slammed her fist over the horn, darted out into the left lane, sped up and cut in front of the truck before ramming her foot against the gas. 

            At the hospital, Jessa shoved her beautiful, silver bullet into a parking spot and slammed the door after her. With her purse in hand, she ran through the front door. Skidding to a halt at the front desk she leaned half her body over the counter and tapped the nurse on the shoulder. The poor nurse, whose back was to the front, gasped and swung around but Jessa couldn’t think to apologize.

            “I’m Jessa Phillips. Someone called me about my sister, Kelly Phillips?”

            “Oh yes! Miss Phillips. Take that elevator to the sixth floor and go left out the elevator to the front desk. They’ll be able to tell you about your sister’s condition.”

            With a simple nod of her head, Jessa did as the nurse bade her. At the front desk she nodded numbly as the nurse asked her to wait a few minutes for a doctor. She probably should have been angry they weren’t telling her anything but by then she was exhausted. Pacing the space, she tried telling herself that things weren’t as bad as she thought. Nothing could be as bad as her mind was telling her. Her sister would be fine—Kelly had to be fine. The truth was, Kelly and her fiancée Chris were the only family she had left.

            “Miss Phillips?”

            Jessa spun around at her name. A doctor stood there with a clipboard shoving a pen into his breast pocket and looking at her as though his best friend had just died.

            “How’s my sister?” Jessa questioned.

            “Your sister was in a car accident,” he replied. “Does she have a boyfriend, husband, or any other family?”

“Yes. A fiancé—wha-what’s going on?”

“He should probably be here right now.”

            “He’s in Japan on business. I’ll try getting a hold of him but tell me about Kelly!”

            “She’s bleeding internally—severely. We’ve tried for the past two hours to stop it but we can’t. Her blood just isn’t clotting and right now there’s nothing we can do for her but make her as comfortable as possible.”

            “No— No,” Jessa whispered. “You can’t tell me that there’s nothing you can do! She’s getting married, damn it! She can’t die!”          

Home for Christmas - NEW RELEASE

Hello everyone,
It's that time of year again!! Merry Christmas too all. I have been under the weather lately so I haven't really been doing much of anything but working then going home and crawling into bed. I think the flu is going around and I just HAD to catch it. *sigh* Anyways, my christmas story has been released with Devine Destinies called HOME FOR CHRISTMAS.

Here's the blurb:
In order to fulfill his father’s dying wish of him bathing in the Ganges, Raj Sohan leaves home.  His wife, Melody respected that enough to let him go alone even though she always wanted to see India.  When he leaves, her heart breaks though she knew he was coming back.  The day he is supposed to return, Melody Sohan gets the perfect idea to welcome her man back.

It's a short one for Christmas but I hope you enjoy it anyways!

Hugs,
Kadian
Kendra Mei Chailyn

DANCE WITH ME

 

 NOW AVAILABLE AT DEVINE DESTINIES LLC!

Ex dancer, Andrea Nichols' divorce is finally finalized and to her horror she is left with a house that is falling apart, a car on the brink of death, bills piling up and ten year old twin boys. She is left feeling exposed and betrayed. With her sons away for soccer camp, Andrea reluctantly drags herself to church for answers on what to do next. When her pastor suggests putting in a good word for her with the man who runs the local youth centre Andrea is happy to be given a chance to dance again--that is until she finds out she needs to audition for the job. To make things worse, the moment she walks into the room and sees Harmon Gale--she knows she is in big trouble.



Harmon Gale, ex boxer turned teacher to troubled youth, has his hands full with running the centre and being a single father to his thirteen going on thirty year old daughter Niki. When Andrea Nichols walks into the centre for her audition, Harmon loses his heart immediately but is Andrea willing to give him a chance or will she simply keep her wall up and run?

BUY HERE

http://devinedestinies.com/

Ugh Drama & News

So, a I had this huge blow up with my host--they told me a month or so ago that I couldn't use paypal to renew my website (which is what I bought it with to begin with) and that I had to use a credit card. Now seriously, I am in University, with a CRAP load of student loans, do I really need a credit card to add to my torture? So no, I don't have a credit card yet and that's for good reason--I'm a swiper...anyways...after they told me that I figured ok, I'll just let it expire and then re-buy it since who is really going to buy my domain name anyways? So there was no fear of losing it to someone else--right?

Ok, so yesterday I logged into my email to see that the host has taken out over a hundred bucks!! Ok that made me so angry! I was like, how do they say I couldn't renew using paypal and they withdrew money from my account using paypal? So needless to say I am no longer with them because I do not like it when inside a business people don't communicate or they don't know what they're talking about--you'd understand better if you knew what happened to me at school (I have to spend an extra semester because my adviser last year told me I needed a class but I didnt need it so I put off a course I should have taken in order to take the course that I didn't really need in the first place..LOOONG story) so after that, I made up my mind not to deal with people who seem not to know what they're talking about.

So now, Not only am I doing Nano and determined to finish it this time, I am also recreating my website, merging my Kendra site with my Kadian site, re-branding myself and my work, overhauling my myspaces, doing school assignments, getting ready for exams and xmas break - so yes, I know my .com for Kendra isn't working. I am working as fast as I can to fix all that. Almost there though...just need to spell check the site to make sure all is well with it because sometimes I tend to type faster than I think and mistakes are made lol.

Anyways for some good news. Those of you who follow my writing closely, will know that I was working on a story titled "LAILA, MY LOVE" after it was rejected from one house, I did some editing, a little bit of re-writing and submitted it somewhere else. To my pleasure it was accepted. Now I can't say where yet because I haven't signed the contracts etc yet. Once those are done and returned then I shall let you know.

Right--must go back to website creating and swearing at computer lol

*hugs*
Kadian

I got new model!

Hey ma babies

I am blogging with some sweet news! Remember my fanmail? Well after getting that I've decided to actually stop procrastinating (my second favourite past-time) and do the Major revisions needed for my short story Greyson's Heart. I have re-titled it Greyson's Second Chance and given it a new cover. That is just half the most excellent news.

The rest of the most awesome news? I have an actual model on the cover!!His name is Adnan - isn't he fabulous? Wait I have to say it right FAB-U-LOUS! I met him in high school and he's a really good friend. He's currently roaming the world like nomad but technology has kept us close. I miss him terribly but facebook and MSN are beautiful things in times like this. He has so graciously, blushes and all, agreed to be my cover boy whenever I need him and I needed him for Greyson. I didn't want a face that was seen on other covers all the time from all the other stock photo places.

Anyways, enough gushing about my fantabulous Adnan, my back is still hurt because of that pulled muscle but I am feeling much better. I am so tired--stayed up all night making that cover then stayed up till almost 5 AM torturing Adnan it was such fun but now I am *yawn* exhausted.

And guess what, I have a FULL day of classes today... But am not complaining don't talk to the boy as much as I used to --I used to talk to him every day at school---and then BAM! We had to grow up...*Sigh* don't you just hate when real lige get in the way? lol.

Anywho again, must focus on this class

...must...focus...on...zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Hugs
Kadianzzzzzzzzzzzzz