Welcome to Mandy's Madhouse

Home of Parnormal Romance Author Amanda Ashley

Page updated 1-17-17

My time travel books are mentioned in this volume.


PARAPROSDOKIANS (I have no idea what this means)

1. Do not argue with an idiot. He will drag you down to his level and beat you with experience.

2. The last thing I want to do is hurt you. But it's still on my list.

3. Light travels faster than sound. This is why some people appear bright until you hear them speak.

4. If I agreed with you, we'd both be wrong.

5. We never really grow up, we only learn how to act in public.

6. War does not determine who is right - only who is left.

7. Knowledge is knowing a tomato is a fruit. Wisdom is not putting it in a fruit salad.

8. Evening news is where they begin with 'Good Evening,' and then proceed to tell you why it isn't.

9. To steal ideas from one person is plagiarism. To steal from many is research.

10. A bus station is where a bus stops. A train station is where a train stops. On my desk, I have a work station.

11. I thought I wanted a career. Turns out I just wanted paychecks.

12. Whenever I fill out an application, in the part that says, 'In case of emergency, notify:' I put 'DOCTOR.'

13. I didn't say it was your fault, I said I was blaming you.

14. Women will never be equal to men until they can walk down the street with a bald head and a beer gut, and still think they are sexy.

15. Behind every successful man is his woman. Behind the fall of a successful man is usually another woman.

16. A clear conscience is the sign of a fuzzy memory.

17. I asked God for a bike, but I know God doesn't work that way. So I stole a bike and asked for forgiveness.

18. You do not need a parachute to skydive. You only need a parachute to skydive twice.

19. Money can't buy happiness, but it sure makes misery easier to live with.

20. There's a fine line between cuddling and holding someone down so they can't get away.

21. I used to be indecisive. Now I'm not so sure.

22. You're never too old to learn something stupid.

23. To be sure of hitting the target, shoot first and call whatever you hit the target.

24. Nostalgia isn't what it used to be.

25. Change is inevitable, except from a vending machine.

26. Going to church doesn't make you a Christian any more than standing in a garage makes you a car.

27. A diplomat is someone who tells you to go to hell in such a way that you look forward to the trip.

28. Hospitality is making your guests feel at home even when you wish they were.

30. When tempted to fight fire with fire, remember that the Fire Department usually uses water.

31. Words of Wisdom "The early bird may get the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese."

In The Works. . . . .

So, I finished my sequel to Twilight Dreams. While wondering what to write next, I went back to something I had started a while back. After writing the beginning, I had no idea where to go next. So, I've decided to give it another try. I've always wanted to write Father Giovanni Lanzoni's story. If I do, this is how it will start ~

Chapter 1

Father Giovanni Lanzoni strolled through the deserted park’s narrow, twisting paths. A brilliant yellow moon illuminated his way, but he needed no light to guide his feet. He was Nosferatu, one of the oldest of his kind. As such, he was blessed -- or cursed -- with supernatural senses and preternatural strength.

Like all vampires who had survived more than a century or two, he had grown to love and appreciate the beauty of the night. He enjoyed being able to see clearly in the darkness, to hear the flutter of a moth’s wings, to be able to move from place to place with astonishing speed, to think himself across great distances, to move faster than mortal eyes could follow, to dissolve into mist. So many amazing powers were his to command.

He had never expected to survive so long. He had always been a pacifist -- given to Xx instead of conflict. As a child, he had dreamed of dedicating his life to the Church. It had proved to be all he had hoped for and more. He loved the discipline, the interior silence, the sense of inner peace born of service and self-sacrifice. Hearing confessions…

He grinned inwardly as he recalled his most recent confession. It had come from Nick Desanto, an ancient vampire turned by the infamous Queen of the Undead -- Mara, herself.

He had known Mara for centuries. They had met when he was still mortal. He had been a young priest at the time, hoping to render aid and comfort on a battlefield in Tuscany. She had been in search of prey. They had both undergone some amazing changes since that long ago night.

In the years since then, he had made many friends and a few enemies -- both mortal and immortal -- in countries around the globe. As a priest, he had willingly given up all thought of home and family. But now, having lived celibate for so long, he thought he would gladly give up immortality to know the simple joys of one mortal lifetime. To experience a woman’s love. To father a child. To watch his sons and daughters grow and have children of their own. What good was living a dozen lifetimes when you had no one to share it with?

His steps slowed as he gazed at the vast expanse of the sky. Worlds without end, he mused. Times changed, the world changed, but he remained ever the same. He had lived in solitude for centuries. In mortality, he had been an ordained priest. As such, he had made vows of chastity, poverty, and obedience. He had been celibate in life. And in death.

Lately, he had begun to rethink his vow to remain celibate. Though he was, at least in his eyes, still a priest, he was no longer recognized as such by the Church. He had no parish, no superior. Why did he cling to vows that were no longer binding?
Why now, after so many centuries, did he suddenly feel so alone? So lonely?

He thought of Mara again. She had spent centuries refusing to be tied down. Yet, she had been married twice -- once to a mortal, once to the man she had loved for centuries. She had a son.

Others of his kind had found companions. Roshan DeLongpre. Vince Cordova and his twin sons, Rane and Rafe. Mara’s son, Derek. Niccola Desanto. Vampires one and all. Yet each had found love. Even feisty ex-vampire hunters Edna Mae Turner and Pearl Jackson -- turned far past their prime -- had found life mates.

Why not him? Perhaps it was time to remember that, although he had once been a priest, he was first and foremost a man.

He chuckled softly. He was, undoubtedly, the world’s oldest male virgin