Canada Day musings and a book sale, From Canada With Love!








As you read this I’m happily ensconced in a little cabin by a huge lake in the middle of British Columbia. Doesn’t get more Canadian than that, eh?

I always spend some time on or around Canada Day, thinking of all this country I call home provides for me, and feeling very grateful.

Canada isn’t perfect. No country is, and we have our share of human rights atrocities and moments of deep shame as a nation—in the past and, sadly, in the present, but as a nation, I feel we genuinely want to learn, to grow, to be generous, to protect individual freedoms, and to take care of each other, regardless of color, creed, economic background, etc. We may disagree about means and methods—and about what/how much work there is to do—but collectively, regardless of political leanings, I think (hope!) we want to keep striving to do better for each other and for our world at large. And that’s pretty great. 🙂

I’m also thankful (awed might be a better word!) for how crazily blessed Canada is terms of geography and natural resources. I know how lucky we are and how we take some things for granted (for example, I recently came across this article about several cities in India that are literally running out of water, as in they have NO water or will soon have NO water—something that, as a coastal BC rainforest dweller, is almost impossible for me to fathom).

I also love our immigrant roots, our regular infusions of new implants from around the world, and our value of . I love our trees and mountains, abundant wildlife and remote, unpopulated places, our healthy oceans, and plentiful rivers and lakes. (Oh, the lakes, the lakes! You guys know how much I love a lake!)

I almost didn’t share this post because I worried, will people not from Canada think I’m being braggy? I don’t mean my gratitude to come off that way, at all. I just feel it’s easy to spend a lot of time complaining about what you think is wrong with your country, and important to occasionally focus on what is awesome. Also, while some of what I’m grateful for as a Canadian might be unique to Canada, a lot of it isn’t . . . plus I’m well aware that other countries enjoy things, have perks and advantages and bounty that we don’t. I’d love for you to share what you love about your country in the comments here.

Happy Canada to you all, Canadian or not. It’s for everyone! And wherever you call home, may you see and celebrate some of your country’s strengths today.

🙂 Ev

P.S. I’ll be sharing a few pictures of various summer adventures in upcoming months via my Ev Bishop Author Facebook page, so if you haven’t already “liked” me, LOL, please do and pop on by for a quick gander from time to time.

P.P.S. Calling all Kobo readers! On the Oh Canada note, I’m super excited to be part of a fabulous, very fitting Kobo promotion this week, From Canada With Love. 🇨🇦 💕 The 1-week sale features 13 Canadian authors and 79 titles across a variety of genres. HINT: you don’t need a Kobo eReader to get in on the fun. You can download the free app to your phone or tablet, then splurge away!

It’s Buy 1, Get 1 50% off, but there are no limits. You can mix-and-match authors, and/or buy as many titles as you want, paying regular price for one, 50% for the next, and so on. In fact, if you’re feeling extra wild, LOL, you could buy 40 books and then get the remaining 39 at 50% off each. (And hidden away on your eReader, no-one will ever know how much you treat yourself! 😁)

Grab your @KoboBooks deals here:

CA ~ US  ~ UK ~ AU ~ NZ!

A FREE cookbook & the countdown rocks on!


7 more sleeps ’til A Sharla Brown Christmas debuts in Love, Christmas 2!  I feel a bit like Snoopy, twirling about my office in one *happy dance* after another! I am so, so, SO excited to be part of this collection of 26-all new Christmas romances, and with just 10 more sleeps until launch day, you won’t have to wait long to find out what all my warm fuzzy excitement is about! 🙂 It was weird (though sooo fun) for me to slip away from River’s Sigh B & B this year and write in a new world about unconnected people and places. I hope you love Sharla’s story as much as I enjoyed sharing it!



The other authors and I have tons of celebrations in the works, including this fun glimpse into some of the goodies mentioned each story. Now you don’t have to drool while you read; you can cook up the same recipes your favorite characters are enjoying while you gobble up their stories.



Stay tuned for more fun *happy dance* worthy news!

#mgtab, #99cents, #romancereads, #ChristmasIsComing, #ChristmasCountdown, #HolidayRomance

MISTLETOE KISSES ~ A 9 Christmas Romance novel box set

Treat Yourself TodayIt’s here! Yay and wow! My brand-new River’s Sigh novella SILVER BELLS has hit the shelves.

One lonely highway and a brutal snowstorm. Two broken hearts and an accident. Can Bryn and Sean find lasting love in such random, fleeting circumstances?

Happy book birthday to me – and to the 8 other fabulous authors in MISTLETOE KISSES: Nancy Stopper, Christa Maurice, Maria Luis, Reese Patton, Susan Saxx, July Dawson, Kimberly Readnour, and Natalia Banks!

Lovely reviews are pouring in and I’m over the moon with all the kind comments and all the Christmas romance love! And I have to confess that with another holiday-themed romance box set coming out on Friday (A CHRISTMAS SHE’LL REMEMBER, which contains my River’s Sigh B & B novella ONE TO KEEP), I feel like a kid on Christmas Eve. In fact, I’ve enjoyed getting into the Christmas spirit early so much that I think I might start my Christmas reading in October every year from now on. The nights are so long and dark, the weather so wet and dreary . . . it’s super fun to read things that are sweet, steamy and cheery. 🙂

Anyway, I hope you’ll get your copy MISTLETOE KISSES—especially while it’s just .99 cents! And if you’d consider leaving a review . . . Well, it would be a lovely early Christmas present for me. Thank you!


Mistletoe Kisses 99 cent ad 3


Growing Ideas

As I sit down to write today, my fingers and hands look like they’ve seen a war. Small festering prickles are embedded here and there, my nails are blackened and broken, and I have defensive wounds on my forearms. My beautiful thorny rosebush attacked me last night and while I did manage to cut it back, so that I can paint my house, it made some slices of its own. I was wearing heavy-duty work gloves and its spiny thorns still got through.
When I told my son to be careful around the rosebush because “it’s very mean,” he shook his head. “It’s not mean, Mom. It’s just misunderstood.”   Cheeky kid. At least I know he listens to me sometimes. A little while later though, after a too self-assured brush against the plant, he decided I was right.
The rosebush made me realize something about the famous fairy tale, Sleeping Beauty. It had to be written by a gardener, one familiar with fighting mighty rosebushes, because only one so blessed (cursed?!) could understand just how adequately a rosebush left to its own devices could protect a tower and persuade any would-be heroes to seek easier rescues.
Other stories inspired by humans’ passion for (or struggle with!) growing things came to me.
The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett. Aside from the pure magic of discovering a hidden garden to play in, the children who seek refuge there find healing and rejuvenation. So much so that it almost escapes the reader’s attention:  that place of new growth and life was also the starting place of all young Colin’s woes, the place that killed his mother and brought death, pain and estrangement into the family.  
Beatrix Potter’s hilarious tales of bratty Peter Rabbit, his kin, and neighbouring animal folk. I can’t help but wonder if she had to protect her cabbages from some bunny—too cute to resist being charmed by, too annoying to quite quell the desire to stick him in a pie via Mr. McGregor.
Ideas for my columns (nature-based or not) often sprout while I’m working outside, and last spring, after cleaning out a flowerbed, I penned (okay, I typed, but honestly, doesn’t penned sound more romantic?) my own tale inspired by digging in the dirt, “Wishful,” in which a woman is enjoying a lovely day and wishes things would never change. I guess I wanted to explore the truth in the adage, “Be careful what you wish for.”  In any event, I won’t ever look at the little faces in pansies quite the same way ever again.

Noelle, the main character in my novel SPOONS, shares my passion for dirt and flowers, and it’s laboring in a garden that gives her a renewed knowledge of herself and her strengths, plus the hope and vigor she needs to work on her marriage.  

I don’t know what it is about yard work that cultivates ideas, but that kind of labour definitely fertilizes the mind—and not just the writer’s muse either.  
Toiling in my yard, contemplating the growth and flowers (or lack thereof) of various plants, I make plans for summer, go over things I need to accomplish in the week, and ponder my relationships with my kids, husband, family, and friends.
Some of my best brainstorming sessions—for work, for writing, for house and home projects—occur with clippers or a rake, not a pen, in my hand. Problems too, imagined or not, get worked out alongside my muscles
Stress, angst, worry . . . all those negative energy zappers disappear as I help my plants move out of their winter garb, shed spring excitement that’s burst forth in go-no-where energy stealers—the plants’ own suckers and shoots—and get ready for summer growth and maturity.
I know that comparing garden growth to personal growth is an oft-used metaphor, but as with many things that get overused, it’s used a lot because people feel its truth. Seeing how things change season through season, watching how the tiniest seed grows into the most profuse plant, marvelling at how the “deadest” branch comes to life when the time and conditions are right is inspiring.
I was the one being cheeky earlier when I said my rosebush was mean—I was feeling guilty for pruning the beautiful thing back so vehemently. I deserve my scars. Really, I’m in awe of its warrior-self that in a few more weeks will be topped with the showiest, soft-as-velvet blooms you can imagine, and I’m already anticipating its heavy, delicious scent carrying in the warm evening air. My mind finds peace and inspiration in the same slivers and blisters that make my fingers and hands seem like they’ve done battle.
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This column is another blast from the past. Written with my wounded hands in May 2009, I reread it recently and wanted to reshare because rose bushes are heavy on my mind again for several reasons, some being: It’s finally warm enough to be out in the garden again, and I have three new bushes I want to plant reserved for me at The Spotted Horse. I lost a beloved bush in our brutal winter this year. I have no idea where my good gloves are and I need them. . . .

Don’t miss out this Thursday, April 20!

It’s definitely starting to feel FUN to be out and about during the evening now, not like a chore. Yay, spring! Yay, light! And on that note . . . I hope you’ll sneak away from your busy life and join me at the Terrace Public Library this Thursday night. Sarah, Norma, and Carol are not to be missed. It’s going to be a great night. See you there! 🙂

Kick off the merry month with free books!

I love December for many reasons–including that for the whole month, there’s pretty snow falling across my blog. 🙂 (Seriously, it’s one of my favorite WordPress features, LOL.)

Adding to the fun this year, to celebrate winter and the holiday season–and a love of reading, in general–I’ve teamed up with more than 150 fantastic romance authors to give away a huge collection of novels, PLUS over $1,000 in prizes! You can download my novel ONE TO KEEP for free, plus books from authors like Marie Force, Zara Keane, Victoria Pinder, Ciara Knight, Mary Jo Putney–and too many more great ones to mention. Enter the giveaway by clicking here:

Best of luck and enjoy a whole lot of cozy-on-the-couch reading this winter!


A Wet Summer Lesson

Photo by Markus Reinhardt

Photo by Markus Reinhardt

The following ran as my July 27, 2016 Just a Thought column in the Terrace Standard. Because I’ve been distracted by wonderful things this summer (namely my new grandson 🙂 and my whopping 25th wedding anniversary), it was a reprint of something I wrote in July 2012 . . . and while the weather right now is glorious, hot, sunny and perfect, and I haven’t complained about it a bit, the words still resonate with me. I hope you like them too. Enjoy! 

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I’m guilty of complaining about the weather this year.  I can’t help it—it’s been so blah and wet the past few weeks. And when the leaden sky opens and pours buckets and the cold wind kicks up, I know I’m not the only one to bellyache. I’ve heard you!  
A couple of events challenged my negativity.  The first involved a plastic tote of gravel. I was at friend’s house and she came up with the notion that we should craft hot pan mats out of rock and canvas like material. We’d both seen similar done with agates, shiny black stones, etc., and thought, Why not? It could turn out really cool.  
She got her son to get a load of gravel from the back of their property. Surveying the dusty gray rocks, we started to second-guess the genius of our inspiration.  
“They probably look better wet,” she said a bit dubiously.  
I can hardly explain how surprised I was as we washed our rock collection only to have every single blah pebble turn a brilliant colour—purple, green, coppery brown, speckled black and whites, pale peach—it was amazing.
Something about the extreme beauty in something so plain and easily overlooked as the gravel that lies alongside ditches really struck me. Before I could commence gluing, I had to take before and after pictures of the rocks, so I would remember the difference looking at the stones another way made. 
Then one evening I took a walk with one of my sisters. It was almost dry—we thought were safe. And then when it would take as long to walk back to the car as it would to finish our walk, it started to drizzle. And then pour! It was exactly like someone had turned on a shower full blast. The water soaked our hair and jackets, ran in rivers behind our ears and down our necks. We looked at each other and had to laugh. 
The streetlights came on and reflections of the beams—warm yellow circles—shimmered up at us from the glimmering pools of water on the black cement. The clouds were a kaleidoscope of every shade of gray, from soft and light, the colour of dove belly, to sooty almost black—as they crept and sped and turned and bumped across the sky.   
And then I walked another night with one of my other sisters, around 10:00 p.m.  It had rained hard all day and the sky actually seemed lighter with the approaching night than it had in the afternoon. Above the deep green wall of trees beside us, the clouds, as if to prove that the sun was really in the sky somewhere, were opalescent—silvery with deep, glowing pink edges that gradually faded out into a soft purple hue.  
As we oohed about how gorgeous it was, my sister laughed and said something to the effect of, “And here everybody’s been complaining about how awful it a day it was, and we were just being impatient. It’s completely beautiful.”  
And here’s the thing I realized, true about rainy walks, gravel-turned-glorious and many other things: often what we see and feel has little to do with what’s actually right in front of us. Scenery and situations are coloured by mood, by expectations, by past experiences, and sometimes we just need to look at the exact same things slightly differently to appreciate them.   
I won’t make any promises to stop lamenting the lack of sun this July, but I will try to get out, consider the present without comparing it to some other moment, and open my eyes to the beauty that’s everywhere.