Author: Kim Janine Ligon

March is National Reading Month. After dancing around between different months it was moved to March to honor Dr. Suess, Theodor Geisel, whose birthday was this month. It seems appropriate that the author who introduced reading to many of us should be remembered this way.

Every month is reading month for me. Since I had my first book published, I have been introduced to many new authors with The Wild Rose Press who write in genres I had not previously read. I have had new worlds to explore in time travel, horror, and paranormal romances. The bookclub I joined at its inception several years ago has also introduced me to authors I would not normally gravitate to. I will confess, I haven’t thoroughly enjoyed all of them, but I have found some that I was delightfully surprised to be disappointed when their stories ended.

The last three weeks I’ve been immersed in Michelangelo’s life as recorded by Irving Stone in The Agony and The Ecstasy. The historian in me loves all the background information about the politics of Italy, the influences of the Catholic Church and the Popes who commissioned Michelangelo’s works. Stone is so descriptive you will be breathing in the marble dust right along with the sculptor. It is a long read (over 800 pages) but it is worth every page.

The other change to my reading habit is e-books on my tablet. A lot of authors share electronic copies of their books when you sign up to be an early reader/reviewer. It took a while for me to get the setting right so the glare didn’t bother me. I only read them in the morning. At night, I dive into the physical book on my nightstand before I turn out the light. While the e-books have allowed me to read a number of books at a much lower cost than a paperback or hardback book, they will never replace the feel of a physical volume in heart. And, as an author, they can’t measure up to the sense of accomplishment I feel when I see my books displayed at the local Barnes and Noble. 

I read differently now. I’ve always liked well-developed characters and looked for an intriguing plot, but now I notice the book’s editing. Typos call out to me and I’m more aware of punctuation. Having been through the editing process for five different books with two talented editors, I have a new appreciation for the person or persons behind the author. A great editor helps the author polish their prose until it shines. They know what components are and are not essential to the story. They catch timeline glitches you missed. Most importantly, they know how to communicate with the author so they can see beyond their pride of creation to make changes when they are needed. And the best editors understand communication is a two-way street. Sometimes they are the listener. I have been blessed with talented, caring editors and senior editors who have improved my stories before they get to you.

I hope this month you will make certain you have a book waiting to be read beside your favorite chair or on your nightstand. If electronic is your thing, may your e-reader be loaded with marvelous tales. I wish you time to sit down and relax, the luxury to escape to somewhere new, and the excitement of meeting new book friends. If any of your reading selections happen to be one of mine—even better (Can you see me smiling?) Enjoy!   

It is hard to believe but today is the 7^th anniversary of this blog beginning. I started it to have a social media presence for my author journey that I began in earnest after retiring from a forty-one year career in healthcare information technology.

We’ve shared a lot over the past seven years. You’ve encouraged me on my author journey more than you know. I could not have persevered without knowing you were there supporting me and cheering me on. Words are inadequate to thank you for the love you have showered on me during this trek. Thank you for reading my stories, for reviewing them, for sharing them, and for asking for more.

We’ve celebrated victories large and small through this blog from new books contracts and important anniversaries to the appreciating the beauty of the first daffodils poking their heads up in the spring.

We’ve shared tears and prayers over loved ones lost too soon, precious memories of times and people past, and shared the pain of the COVID pandemic and its aftermath.

I appreciate you humoring me and reading my observations on life. I especially enjoy reconnecting with old friends and far-flung family when you post a comment on my post or send me an e-mail after reading one. It’s been fun to make new friends in the readers who sign up for my blog. After starting out with about a dozen regular readers, Spinning Romance now has over two hundred people who receive my posts via e-mail and a trio who get it by snail mail. I am delighted by the number of fellow Wild Rose Press authors who read my posts and make comments.

In December 2024, I signed my fifth contract with The Wild Rose Press. My next cozy mystery with clean romance set in the small town of Lansdale, Wisconsin will be published in later this summer. Soon I’ll send you the date to go over to the Purple Cow drive-in for a creamy vanilla milkshake with your favorite book buddies.

I am so thankful for all of you and for the good Lord who puts the stories on my heart that I hope you’ll enjoy. I am truly blessed. It’s been a blast! I’ll see you at Whistler’s! Enjoy!      

May you see the wonder of Christmas through the eyes of a child. May the love of Christmas wrap your heart in peace and bring you joy. Wishing you and yours the many blessings of Christmas and a healthy, happy 2025. Enjoy! Kim

I’m very excited. My foray into a completely new genre comes out Monday Dec 2nd. I hope you’ll enjoy my Victorian Christmas romance.

The new book is available at your favorite e-tail location and for those of you in the Tuscaloosa, Alabama area I am having a book signing at the Midtown Barnes and Noble SATURDAY DECEMBER 14th from Noon to 4 PM. Hope you’ll stop buy to pick up an autographed copy and a hug from the author.

Universal Buy Link: https://mybook.to/MatchmakingMistletoe

At this time of year I am especially thankful for all the people who made this fourth book possible beginning with my sweet husband and my extraordinary editor. And I could not continue to find the right words to put on the page without some Divine inspiration guiding my fingers. I am thankful for all of the readers who follow me and ask for my next book. Your encouragement and support are a blessing to me. Wishing you and yours all the wonder and happiness of the season. Enjoy!

Once the all important first thread is securely anchored, the spider leaps to another nearby location forming the second side of its web. The author adds some secondary characters who travel intersecting paths to the main plot thread. The author must be careful. Strong characters may try to divert the main idea to be more about them masking the original story behind their overwhelming personalities.

The spider rests admiring its work. Suddenly the wind blows a stray leaf into the web destroying one side of it. Back to weaving for the arachnid. The author proudly gives the book to an early reader only to hear there are gaps in the timeline that must be corrected. The main character cannot be the criminal. They don’t even meet the victim until two chapters later.

The spider diligently rebuilds a complete circular web, then waits to be fed. And it waits. And waits. The author fixes the plot points, rereads it for the ninth time—this time out loud—trying to sand off all the rough edges and make the manuscript shine. Then she sends it to the editor. She picks up another work in progress to fiddle with until she hears about this one. And she waits. And waits.

The spider is rewarded when an insect becomes stuck in the sticky web. It rushes over to further encase it in more threads to savor later. The author gets the email. The one with a contract attached. She cries. It isn’t the first wonderful attachment she’s gotten. It doesn’t matter. Every single one is something special. She cries happy tears and prints out the contract to savor (and sign) sooner than later. 

The spider doesn’t have enough food to last the winter dormancy. It hopefully watches for more insects to come visiting. The author anxiously watches for the final galleys. It comes after rounds of tweaking and wordsmithing. Oh, the things the author learns in this complex process: tenses and persons; showing not telling; and punctuation rules you didn’t learn in school. After the final galleys are declared to be perfect, another wonderful email touting the worldwide release date for the new book baby. More happy tears as the author marks her calendar.

The spider’s web is filled with little packets of future feasts and more prey is captured every day. It is content. The author hopes the cover of the book and the all important blurb pull the discriminating reader closer and closer until they click the BUY NOW icon on the screen. They do! They even buy another of the author’s books listed on the same page. There is much rejoicing! The author smiles with tears in her eyes.

The spider is sated and the author is blessed. Thank you for all the smiles and tears you have given this author!

God, The world needs you now more than ever. Please be with the victims of Helene’s fury. Comfort those who have lost loved ones and give them peace in their mourning. Give those who survived the wind and water to be faced with overwhelming damage the strength and resilience to tackle the job of restoring their lives to some level of normalcy.

To the people who put their children to bed at night under skies lit up by missiles flying overhead give them the courage necessary to face another day and the passion to persevere until there can be peace.

Please, Lord, restore this nation to follow you in prayerful righteousness. I know we have shamefully and foolishly squandered what we have been given. Please grant us another chance and the conviction to follow the narrow path that leads to the truth and restores our country’s hope.

Lord, there are many sick of body, heart, and mind. Please ease their pain. Please bless new marriages and take special loving care of the new souls who enter this often dangerous and frightening world.

Thank you. AMEN!

My husband is a romantic to the core. Many years ago he surprised me with a three week trip to Europe on Valentine’s day. My first trip abroad. He celebrates with me every year the anniversary of our first impromptu date. (For details on that date check out my blog from August 2018 . https://www.spinningromance.com/2018/08/

He is wonderful to celebrate occasions large and small. But the most romantic thing he does almost daily. He always holds my hand when we’re walking together through parking lots, into offices, everyday while running errands. One day we were walking into the bank branch in our area at the same time as the manager and she came up behind us and said “I just love to see…people loving on one another.” I’ve always believed she kindly thought better of adding the adjective ‘old’ in front of people.

Once while headed to the Gulf coast we stopped for lunch at a taco place and were holding hands walking toward the building. A man in a utility uniform said, “Oh, look at the lovebirds.”

When we walk across the university campus where he used to work, our handholding invokes smiles from the coeds and some nudges for their male companions to pay attention.

This year we celebrate the fifth decade anniversary of that first date. It’s been a whole lot of handholding since then. It still makes me tingle with happiness and makes me feel truly loved.

Here’s wishing you someone to hold your hand through this sometimes dangerous world we live in!

The church in the tiny Wisconsin town where my nephew grew up was packed with people who loved him and he loved. Most of them were wearing purple—Adam’s favorite color. After the opening prayer and “Amazing Grace”, his brother-in-law honored Adam with words from Psalms and John. He was eulogized with an outpouring of love from his older brother, his two best friends, and his wife of thirteen years. They spoke of Adam’s enigmatic characteristics, his special smile, and not waiting to act on the love you feel. His twelve year old son shared the Viking Funeral Prayer and his eight year old daughter shared how much they both loved cats. Two of his former Sunday School teachers sang “On Eagle’s Wings.” The minister’s message paled in comparison to what went before him. 

My memories of Adam are predominantly from his childhood through to his high school graduation where he was the student speaker sporting an impressive Mohawk. He was a fearless child from the moment he began toddling. He didn’t walk. He ran—usually with something clutched in each hand so he didn’t have to hold yours. He scaled all the furniture to get to a higher place to see what the world looked like from there. I believe they now sell bookshelves with braces to hold them to the wall in honor of Adam. 

He was always curious, a constant thoughtful question asker. And he listened carefully to the answers. He pronounced he liked that “Valdi guy” after hearing Vivaldi’s Four Seasons. He sent adults scrambling for the dictionary when he correctly identified reptiles as being oviparous. After wandering around Jefferson Davis’s White House of the Confederacy in Montgomery, Alabama, he asked his Uncle Jim if that David guy was a friend of his? Why else could they just wander through his house? He was a voracious reader. Catcher in the Rye was his favorite book. He was a deep at heart Trekkie—like his father was. He had a wicked sense of humor that showed itself even when he was a very small child.  

Adam liked to stay in touch with his immediate family. He had text “debates” with his brothers about all kinds of random things including who was the best Starship Enterprise captain although I’m certain Adam’s was James Tiberius Kirk since he named his younger son after him. He would challenge his brothers, Luke and Matthew, to online video game contests even while he was hospitalized. The Wenzel boys were an unstoppable trio of mischief makers who loved each other dearly.  

He was good about checking in with his mom, Lisa, and regularly updating her on his family’s activities every week or ten days. While Adam was hospitalized, she practically lived at his bedside, but even then he would text her ‘good morning’ before she arrived. They maintained the affectionate mother-son bond throughout his life. 

I learned from his celebration speakers that while alcohol may have stolen Adam from us much too soon—he was so much more than a party guy. If you met him and were quick to judge him by his Star Trek tattoos, shaved head, beard with Salvador Dali-esque mustache, and piercings you would have missed the opportunity to know a fascinating man who loved his family and his friends with steadfast loyalty. He had amazing personal fortitude and drew from a well of strength deep within him. Adam had unsuspected compassion and empathy beneath his rough exterior. He wasn’t concerned about what people thought of how he looked. He wanted to connect on a deeper level. If you did make that connection, he didn’t hesitate to tell his friends how much he loved them and would stand by their side if they were in peril. Ever supportive. 

Adam was blessed to marry the love of his life, Lawrell, a soul mate who always knew she was loved. His children were his treasures. He loved being a father. His children knew he loved and believed in them. Early during his hospitalization, his wife wrote that he loved playing games with his kids, arbitrating their arguments over Monopoly, fixing their boo-boos, introducing them to Star Trek, was their favorite chef, the fixer of all broken things, and he acted as primary caregiver for their younger son with special needs. 

He was a competitive, skilled video gamer who played even in the hospital ICU to the amazement of the medical staff who had believed only a week earlier that he was in his last day of life. He recognized when medical interventions on his weaken body were finally exhausted and wrote on his communication board “Game Over.” 

I hope Adam has joined his father, Michael, and they are exploring strange new worlds, seeking out new life, and new civilizations boldly going where no man has gone on a journey not limited by Playstation programming or the boundaries of this universe. I believe that would fit Adam’s definition of heavenly bliss. Rest in peace. Love Aunt Kim.