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All About Cassondra Murray

Cassondra Murray has two life mantras. The first is how hard can it be? Never afraid to take on something new, her sordid career track has including event planning, Search & Rescue dog handling, photojournalism, songwriting and beekeeping. The one thing she’s done consistently since age 11 is write.

She lives with her husband in Southern Kentucky farmland amid grain fields and cows, where she juggles two dogs, five cats, one hive of honeybees and a smack-talking crow. She writes suspense and futuristic romance, and tries hard to avoid the homemade cake on the counter, since her second life mantra is, Life is uncertain…eat dessert first.

If it’s a water gun duel or truck nuts, Cassondra considers it fair game for a blog. So if you see her watching, be careful! You could end up in a post on romancebandits.com


I Met Her…Online

Last week I drove to another town to meet a friend I’d never seen in person. I made this friend online. Now let me explain that there’s a little deeper connection than it would seem at first. April has been on the fringes of my world for a long while through our mutual friend, Dianna Love. She’s a fan of Dianna’s books, and I “met” her through correspondence on Dianna’s behalf a few years ago. And that brings up a whole question of its own, doesn’t it? Have you truly “met” someone, if you’ve only met them online? I still
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Call Me Any Time

Seriously.  Any.  Time. Not. Okay, truth time. I’ve never been all that much of a phone talker. Even as a child, I called, I got the information I was after, and I hung up. No sitting on the phone for hours. I’m still that way. When I was a little girl, we had one phone in the house. It looked like this phone on the left. Our phone was on a party line. For you who don’t know, that means several homes in the community would share one line. I remember waiting for hours to call my grandmother. Waiting for
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Supper’s Ready!

Tonight I made a meal from my childhood.  When I was a little girl, the evening meal wasn’t dinner. It was supper. When time came to eat that meal, there was just no telling where I’d be.  I might be working somewhere with my dad outside, or I might be playing by myself in the barn loft, or down across the field at the pond, or I might be way at the back of our small farm, in the woods on the hill.  But even at the edges of the farm, if I was paying attention, I could barely hear
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