Barbara Ellen Brink | Updates

Ice, snow, and book news

Barbara Ellen Brink — Thu, 2 Apr 2026 00:00:00 +0000

Many of you have asked when my next book is coming out. I’m sorry to report that my latest suspense novel is still hung up in the works. Time and motivation have been nil and void lately.

It’s dripping icy spring rains this morning and snow is expected tonight. This morning’s weather is kind of how I feel about finishing a book and releasing it into the unmanned void.

The truth is, most of my books were stolen by Anthropic and others to feed to their AI, in spite of me going to the trouble of paying for each and every one to be copyrighted. Millions of authors have had their works stolen by AI companies and yet will probably never receive a just compensation. If any. It’s beyond aggravating to know that huge wealthy companies will get ever richer for the use of their “Artificial Intelligence” after robbing artists, writers, and other creators, incurring no more than a slap on the wrist from the court system. But that’s pretty much where we’re at.

But don’t worry. I can’t leave anything undone. My novel will be finished soon and I will let you all know. This new Terminator world will not be the end of my creativity!

I’ll be back.

While you wait, Pick up SPLIT SENSE for just .99¢ at Amazon.

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Advertise to me pretty, please.

Barbara Ellen Brink — Mon, 9 Mar 2026 00:00:00 +0000

It’s a given in advertising. Beautiful people can sell much more than average looking people.

We all want to be those people with perfect bodies, hair, and teeth, buying that expensive car or feeding their kids delicious, microwavable pocket-pho-food items filled with so many chemicals they could cause a nuclear reaction. Sadly, when we look in the mirror, reality slips back in. But for a few blessed moments we relate with that character and their well-behaved children, and may just run out to buy that product. Even if it kills us.

Remember when smoking was considered "sexy" and Coca Cola made all the world want to sing, and we thought McDonalds served real meat in their burgers because their jingle told us so? I'm not saying advertisers sell the truth. We all know they lie to get you to buy. But the advertiser needs to find the consumer's achilles heel. In the 80s, Tom Selleck could have sold me the Brooklyn Bridge. Thankfully, he didn't advertise real estate.

But since we are now forced to watch more and more commercials on Netflix, Hulu, and most other channels, unless we pay their larger blackmail price per month, we should at least have a say about the sights we have to see. They are obviously pushing pharmaceutical drugs harder than any street thug in downtown Minneapolis. Every commercial features characters who look like what's left over after a zombie apocalypse, or rejected contestants of The Biggest Loser, and often display the joy of a crocodile with constipation. Granted, sometimes they are actually trying to portray the feeling of constipation. So, in those specific cases, they are quite good at their jobs.

But they are a far cry from the happy, pleasant-faced people from days gone by who made you believe mopping the floor with Mr Clean by your side was like being asked to the prom by the captain of the football team. Or that chewing Double-mint gum could make you see twins. Or that Nice & Easy hair color didn’t just change the color of your hair but made you believe you looked like a super model or at least one of Charlie’s Angels.

I miss those days.

(Pretty flower Image by zdenekfritz0 from Pixabay) Doesn't it make you want to buy a bee of your own? :)

Thanks for stopping!

Barbara

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Chill out, Valentine! Winter's halfway over!

Barbara Ellen Brink — Thu, 5 Feb 2026 00:00:00 +0000

It’s hard to believe winter is halfway over and Valentines Day is almost here. I know, some of you don’t celebrate the day of hearts, Cupid, and pink and red decorations. But without Valentines to break up the monotony of February, we would be stuck in the middle of winter with nothing more than a random President’s Day celebration.

I’m as patriotic as the next American but I like to know just which president I’m celebrating. When I was a kid, we celebrated Lincoln’s birthday on the 12th and Washington’s birthday on the 22nd. But Nixon had to step in and ruin it all by combining them and declaring the third Monday of February as a single Federal holiday called President’s Day. Probably so he could pretend he was included in the celebration. He didn’t seem like a guy who got invited to a lot of parties. You know?

Other than Mother’s Day, I think Valentine’s is probably the worst day to go out to eat. Too many people trying to pacify their significant other with a hot meal they didn’t have to prepare. The wait lines are horrendous, servers are run off their feet, and the kitchens are so busy you have a much higher chance of mishaps resulting in food poisoning. Sound fun? Maybe for those who like to live on the edge. Not me. Been there. Done that.

So, I decided to plan ahead this year. I’m taking a card out of Nixon’s playbook and celebrating with my husband this weekend instead of the 14th. I bought tickets to the new romcom, Solo Mio, because as you know, I like my romance with a little humor. Sometimes a lot of humor. We’ll see.

After the movie we will probably dine out somewhere that has steak. Beef has been so high for the past year that it will be a treat, but hopefully, not so expensive I have to take out a personal loan from organized crime. Or, as it is referred to in Minnesota: The Quality Learing Center daycare.

I already told him we were going but it will probably still be a surprise because when he’s deep in preparing tax returns this time of year, I might as well speak Klingon. His mind is on a different wavelength. But that’s okay. I don’t speak W2, 1099, 3PO either.

Whether you celebrate Valentine’s Day or not, may you have a sweet day with family or friends!

Thanks for stopping!

Barbara

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This year, spend some time in the warm Napa Valley

Barbara Ellen Brink — Mon, 5 Jan 2026 00:00:00 +0000

It's a New Year and I've resolved to read more books! Actually, that's a given. I always want to read more books. I don't always find enough time to read all the books I want to read though, but I give it my best try. The real problem is finding time to live my regular life in-between the beautiful, intriguing, suspenseful, romantic worlds I read about. Right now I am in the middle of J.T. Ellison's A Very Bad Thing, Beth Moran's The Most Wonderful Time of the Year, and Mara Williams' The Epicenter of Forever. I'm definitely having a hard time breaking away to clean my house, cook dinner, or write my own book. But I'm trying.

If you are looking for a bit of romance, mystery, and a family saga set in a winery, I have the New Year's deal for you! The Fredrickson Winery novels are on #Sale now at all your favorite online stores!

Entangled .99¢ Crushed $1.99 Savor $1.99

Hope your new year is filled with love, hope, and joy!

Blessings,

Barbara

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Christmas Movie Blitz

Barbara Ellen Brink — Wed, 31 Dec 2025 00:00:00 +0000

I spent way too much time watching mindless, sappy, Christmas movies on Netflix this year. Good ones are far and few between, but sometimes you just have to wade through the mess to find a gem and get into that Christmas spirit.

I have always preferred stories with plenty of humor to counter the romance. My own stories have some of both and I personally don’t think you can have lasting romance without a touch of humor in your lives. Sitting around eating sugar cookies while making googly eyes at one another, as Nat King Cole croons through your speaker system, gets boring quick. Ditto for copycat movies with someone meeting “the real Santa.” They can never top Miracle on 34th Street with Natalie Wood as the doubting child and Edmund Gwen as Santa. And the best “becoming Santa” movie is still and probably will always be Tim Allen’s 1994, The Santa Clause. Every knockoff has failed miserably.

As for romantic Christmas movies, there are a lot of duds, but they are plentiful and easy access. You don’t have to leave the comfort of your couch to immerse yourself in a romantic setting. This year’s list might save you from wasting precious time watching something you wish you’d never clicked on. So, here you go. Please see my rating system below:

humbug = boring and/or terrible acting.

Elfin magic = silly slapstick but fun

toothache = Sickly sweet, sad family issues

Chimney Soot = Never should have been made

Stuffed Stocking = well played

Fairie Light = romantic setting, pretty couple

The Full Sprinkle = sweet, silly, stupid

My Favorite Christmas Tree

Female genealogist visits small town to find history on the “oldest Christmas tree farm” and ends up finding… You got it. Love. But I felt nothing but humbug.

Champagne Problems Young woman goes to Paris to acquire champagne brand for her company but handsome man in bookstore catches her attention and she ends up… Same old premise, but I still thought it had a lot of Fairie Light.

A Cowboy Christmas Romance

Realtor goes home to Arizona to acquire a ranch for a secret buyer and falls for the owner. Rich father and brothers on the ranch next door raise her ire at every turn. Watchable but gave me a bit of a toothache.

A Merry Little Ex-Mas

I’ve seen a lot of Alicia Silverstone lately and I ‘m glad. She has a really likable personality onscreen and it’s easy to relate to her. In this new Christmas movie, she has just signed divorce papers with her husband (Oliver Hudson) and is pretending it’s all fine. Family Christmas traditions are going to stay just the same. So she thinks. This was a cute movie. Often over the top silly, but still fun and watchable, mostly because of the lead actors. I think it may have had a little Elfin Magic.

Holiday in the Vineyards

Spoiled, playboy, & son of a wine empire maven, goes to small town to acquire vineyard and falls in love while learning how to act like a normal person. This was actually annoying, funny, sweet and stupid. It ended well and the couple were pleasant to look at, but I have my doubts about their relationship lasting thru the New Year. I give it the Full Sprinkle.

Christmas at the Chalet

Retired news reporter (Teri Hatcher) tries to get her mojo back by filming her experience working as a maid in the ski lodge, where her ex-husband and son are also staying, because the rooms are all booked. Handsome owner with cute niece and wise mother, fall for her terrific personality and bright-side outlook. I’m pretty sure this premise couldn’t hold water without a “star” in the lead. It still sparkled with a bit of fairie light.

Mistletoe Mixup

Brothers (Joey & Matthew Lawrence) fighting over a girl they both met the same day. This was sort of like the three stooges except with much more handsome faces and likable personalities. Yes, it was often over-the-top silly but it also had its moments. I actually laughed out loud a couple times. I think the Lawrence bothers have a little Elfin magic.

LoveHard

Woman (Nina Dobrev, Vampire Diaries) falls for a sexy online guy, flies to NY to surprise him and finds she’s been catfished by an average-looking Asian man who lives in his parent’s basement. Hilarity ensues. This one actually had a bit of bad language but otherwise was really funny, cute, sweet and romantic without turning maudlin or depressing. I laughed a lot! Santa made sure they had a full stocking.

A Sprinkle of Christmas

Pastry chef falls for movie star after he leaves an anonymous bad online review. This movie had its moments but as much as I would love to believe a professional chef can bring back childhood memories by making pastries that taste like food from the past, I can’t believe they’d want to. Store bought food isn’t great now, but thirty or forty years ago… it was awful. That aside, I got through the whole thing and think it deserves The Full Sprinkle.

My Secret Santa

Single mother of a teenage girl, needs a job to pay for daughter’s ski lessons at fancy lodge. The lodge is looking for a new Santa. Dressed as Santa, she spouts life advice to everyone at the lodge like she’s the real Santa from Miracle on 34th Street. Switching back and forth between pretty lady to jolly fat Santa is the slapstick I will never be able to unsee. Ski Lodges seem to be in vogue this year. probably because they supply the Elfin Magic.

Christmas on the Alpaca Farm

I started to watch this one, but only got 18 minutes in before I had to stop. I couldn’t take any more whining and preaching about renewable, green, sustainable, whatever. I’m beyond done with it all. You may have finished watching it, and thoroughly enjoyed being preached at but I didn’t. So, I call this one a pile of Chimney Soot.

Hope this helps you decide on what movies you might want to watch with the vacation days you have left.

Happy New Year!

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Memories, like a hint of mint

Barbara Ellen Brink — Mon, 17 Nov 2025 00:00:00 +0000

As I stare at my iPad, scroll through news stories that read like sensationalized film noir and delete dozens of emails for Black Friday sales, political ads, and of course book platforms, I am reminded of simpler times when the news was just the facts, ma'am, and writing a letter was something you did with a pen and paper. The wait to hear back was much longer but you didn’t fret about whether the recipient would be mad at you or unintentionally offended by your emoji selection. Social media didn’t exist, and most people were friendly and smiled when you passed them on the sidewalk, not caring what your personal thoughts were on the state of the union or global warming.

I miss those days.

When I was a child, we lived on a small fruit farm in Washington’s beautiful Yakima Valley. We climbed trees, crawled through waist-high fields of alfalfa, built Cherry box forts, and jumped from the rafters of the barn into a pile of hay. We wandered all over that twelve-acre farm, feeling like we were miles from home. It was a great place to raise children and although our house was tiny compared to today’s standard, we never felt we lacked for anything.

My mother was a terrific seamstress and cook. She made all my clothes, her own clothes, and some of my brother’s as well. She canned vegetables, fruits, jellies and jams. She baked wonderful breads, cakes, cookies, and desserts. And still we were skinny kids. Probably because we played outside all day and had never heard of McDonalds.

My dad worked construction as a concrete finisher and had to get up very early to drive long distances to job sites. He came home tired but always had time to play a game of catch or shoot baskets.

On our land there were fifty prune trees, dozens of cherry trees, a few peach and a couple apricot, and one lone pear tree far out in the pasture providing shade to a few head of cattle. We also had a section of grape vines, but the grapes weren’t like those sold in stores today. They were full of seeds. Which made eating them all the more fun. Seed spitting contests usually ensued.

Our peaches didn’t look or taste like the hard, little rocks I find for sale here in the upper mid-west. They were huge, and fragrant, and the juice rolled from your hand and down your arm when you bit into one.

Sticky with juice, we would race our bikes up and down the gravel driveway until we were covered in a fine layer of dust and Mom would yell at us for carrying all that dirt inside when we showed up for lunch.

On a clear day, we could see a snow-covered Mount Rainier far off in the distance and sometimes caught the scent of mint fields on the wind.

Sadly, you can’t go back. I drove out there one year and our place was gone. Instead, the land had been replanted with wine vineyards. No barn. No house. No trees. No reminders remained of the laughter and tears and trouble we got into.

Thankfully, those cherished memories linger in my mind, and I can pull them up whenever I need to and remember simpler times when kindness and patience were common, playing outside was expected, and we had real conversations with other people and used real facial expressions to show how we felt.

Thanks for stopping by! Hope you enjoyed my reminiscing.

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Slowly progressing work-in-progress

Barbara Ellen Brink — Thu, 18 Sep 2025 00:00:00 +0000

Time seems to be flying faster than a double winged buzzard! Don't know if that's really a thing, but I'm going with it.

The garden is drying up, the grand girls are back in school, but I'm still finding things I need to get done before I can sit for longer than an hour at my desk and write. I've heard it said that you just have to keep your butt in the seat and pound away at those keys and eventually the right words, sentences, paragraphs, and dialogue will accumulate and you will have a novel. In some respects that is true. You will get a lot of words on the page. Some of which you will not delete. But I also need to have my mind in the game. When I've got stuff I know I need to do, it is a lot harder to concentrate. And then there is the wild Cavapoo we call Jack. He insists we take long walks every day. Not just once or twice a week, but EVERY DAY!

So, until the last jar of salsa is canned, my hot peppers are all wood-smoked on the grill and stored in the freezer, and my pole beans have been pulled down for the winter, I will find it hard to finish the book I'm working on. But this past week of high 80s is above average for the middle of September here in Minnesota, so I'm certain the chill of fall will soon follow. Then it will just be me and the keyboard working away as the sky turns grey and gloomy outside my window and my thoughts settle easily on the plot ahead.

Here is a taste of what I've been working on. I hope you enjoy! Remember, it's from my rough draft, so be kind you "grammar nazis'."

Excerpt from my work in progress:

Callie Ann and Billy released a collective sigh of relief. They watched as the stranger strode purposefully toward Douglas and the mayor. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a gun.

“All right, enough of this. Where is he?” he demanded loud enough to hear through the trees. “I know he was here.”

Douglas backed up in surprise. “Donaldson, what is going on?” he demanded angrily.

“They’re going to kill him,” Billy whispered. “I can’t let’em.” He started to scramble up, but she grabbed his arm and yanked him back.

“What are you doing?” she whispered frantically. “Let Douglas deal with them. It will be all right,” she promised, although she didn’t feel very confident now.

Donaldson didn’t appear happy about the way things were going either. He shook his head and tried to wave the other guy back. Douglas took that moment to leap forward and attempt to wrestle the gun from the stranger. Callie Ann and Billy watched, petrified. The horrific scene played out before them as though in slow motion. Callie Ann realized the exact moment when all hell broke loose. In the scuffle, a single shot was fired. The three men froze for two long seconds and then Douglas slumped. His arms and head limp as a rag doll, he crumpled to the ground.

“No!” Billy jumped up and went charging through the trees and brush like a bull in a blind rage before she could even think to stop him.

Callie Ann crouched in horror as the man with the gun whirled and fired again. Mayor Donaldson’s horrified bellow was lost on the wind as he looked from the fallen sheriff to Billy pounding toward him. The bullet missed its mark and pinged into a tree trunk not five feet from Callie Ann’s head. Billy never slowed. He broke through the tree line and hit the road running, his outlaw hair flying around him. She knew what was going to happen before she heard the second report of the gun. She closed her eyes against the ghastly sight. Billy was her best friend. She couldn’t watch him die.

“What do you think we’re going to do now, Sid?” Donaldson screamed, enraged. “Do you think you can just kill everyone in my town, and no one will notice?”

Callie Ann opened her eyes and peered around the tree. Billy’s body lay splayed in the gravel; his arms stretched out as though still trying to reach his brother’s murderer. She was thankful she couldn’t see his face. She couldn’t handle that right now. Her heart pounded so loud it was all she could hear. What to do?

Donaldson was still haranguing the man called Sid as Callie Ann crept slowly toward her bike. She pulled her helmet on, not bothering to connect the chinstrap, and threw her leg over the seat. From this position she couldn’t see anything through the trees, but she hoped they were still too busy arguing to think to look for her. She fought down the shaking that started in her gut. She needed to be in complete control if she wanted to get away without losing it. She turned the key and pulled back on the gas. The engine roared to life and the sound of the pipe was deafening in the quiet of the trees.

She shifted into first and took off as fast as she dared in loose dirt and gravel, hoping to get a jump-start on them. She didn’t even glance their way but whipped out of the trees and along the lake toward the open road. Over the revving of her bike, she thought she heard another shot fired. She nearly tipped the motorcycle as she turned onto the country road, but managed to control it, bringing it back upright just in time. She twisted the throttle and shot forward at a pace she’d never been comfortable on gravel before. It was approximately ten miles to a paved highway. It was her only chance. She could lose them on a paved road. Maybe she’d even get lucky, and a cop would pull her over for speeding. The guilt nearly overwhelmed her, but she kept going. It wasn’t fair that she was getting away while Douglas and Billy lay dead and bleeding back there by the lake. But if it were the last thing she did, she would make sure their murderers paid in full.

“I’m sorry, Billy,” she whispered even as tears coursed down her cheeks and soaked into the cushioned sides of her helmet. “I’m so sorry.”

She glanced in her side mirrors. So far there was no sign of pursuit. They were probably too busy trying to cover up the blood they’d already shed, she thought. Anger pulled her lips into a thin, hard line.

Five more minutes and she should be on the highway. If she could just stay ahead of them for… Five. More. Minutes. Her hands tightened on the handle grips, and she dared accelerate a little more.

It was hard to see clearly in the vibrating mirrors as the bike jerked and bumped over the rough gravel road, but a small dot appeared in the road behind her. She hoped it was just her imagination, but she feared it was the Jeep catching up with her. Ahead, she could see a thin black strip of highway cutting off to the west. She set her mind on reaching it before they managed to close the distance between them.

She lost sight of the pursuing vehicle for a second as they dropped below the last rise in the road. They were definitely gaining. When her eyes cut to the mirror again, she missed seeing the obstacle in the road. A mud turtle or boulder maybe? Too Late! Her front tire jerked to the right. She was thrown off center and the bike careened off the gravel causing her to unintentionally pull back on the accelerator. The bike flew over the ditch and into the cornfield. She felt her body lift off the seat and she released her grip and tried to tuck and roll as the ground suddenly came up to meet her like a concrete wall. She felt her helmet fly off on her first slam against the ground and then she bounced again. Sharp pain pierced her side. When she finally stopped hurtling through the cornfield, eyes shut tight in fear and self-preservation, she thought her heart would beat itself out of her chest. She lay still. The fight gone out of her.

Pain throbbed inside her head as though tiny Irish tappers were inside performing the Riverdance. She tried to lift her hand to feel for injuries but nearly screamed as white-hot bolts of excruciating pain shot down her side and into her arm. Her eyes fluttered open. A patch of angry black clouds glowered above bent and broken cornstalks waving down at her. She thought she heard the roar of an engine passing nearby and then… nothing. The silence slowly slipped around and over and through her like an ocean fog, and everything went black.

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Puppy Power

Barbara Ellen Brink — Mon, 28 Jul 2025 00:00:00 +0000

After our seventeen-year-old dog, Willow, passed on to doggy heaven this past spring, I thought I'd wait and see how things went. We've had a dog in the family since my son was five and he's now forty. So, a long time. I knew I'd probably be lonely without my shadow following me all around the house, but I thought I could handle it since I also have my granddaughters over quite a bit and they tend to make me plenty busy.

After just a few weeks I was already scrolling the internet for puppy sites. Sad, I know. Not long after that I talked my husband into driving two hours away to look at puppies. Of course, you can't waste two hours there and two hours back and not come home with a puppy to make it worthwhile. So, we chose a six month old Black Cavapoo. We had a black and white Cavapoo (Cavalier/poodle mix) about ten years ago. Rugby was the model for my publishing logo, Lapdog Books. He was the sweetest dog and never passed up a chance to sit on my lap.

I named our new dog, Jack. My husband thinks it was because we stopped at a gas station on the way home called Jack's. I won't argue. Perhaps I was a victim of subliminal gas station messaging, I don't know. Whatever the reason, he is definitely a blackjack. A twenty pound, compact assault weapon.

Jack is a chewer. He has chewed up shoes, furniture, Barbies, toy cars, plastic containers, blankets, pillows, metal zippers on sweatshirts, cucumber plants, crayons, markers., sticks, books, paper. Anything and everything he can get into his mouth. I gave him a container of dog toys to chew. He chose to chew up the container. He's 9 1/2 months now and has not slowed down on his plan to destroy everything that doesn't belong to him. I'm running out of high places to hide things from him.

Jack is also terrified of the groomer, so now I have to learn to groom him as well as keep him from turning our home into a heap of ruin. He's like a stealth plane. If he gets really quiet, you know he's up to no good. He's sneaky.

I went to visit my folks in Nebraska this past weekend and while I was gone he cried, then he went to work chewing to show his displeasure with my desertion. I was definitely sorry I'd left him all alone with my husband. Leon apparently didn't understand the depth of his separation anxiety and ignored him to work on his computer. Jack decided to destroy the pillows and blankets on our bed.

Now that I'm home, he's much happier. He's not chewing things up in anger anymore. Now he's chewing things up out of sheer joy.

Thanks for stopping! Don't forget to sign up for my mailing list and I will send you a free copy of Potluck Fiction, a collection of short stories.

Barbara

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Hallelujah! Summer is here!

Barbara Ellen Brink — Thu, 12 Jun 2025 00:00:00 +0000

Summer is a great time to catch up on all those books you've promised yourself you were going to read but never did. Regret is a word best used for letting all the vegetables in the bottom drawer of the refrigerator rot while you go out to eat every night of the week, or forgetting a load of wet laundry in the washer until it smells like a boy's moldy locker room. Don't let the awesome novels on your TBR list be left unread like a 1500 page bill before congress. That would be truly regrettable.

Roadtrips, flight delays, sitting by the beach or pool, or locked in the bathroom to get away from the kids, are all good times to open a book and fall into a great story. Don't let the biggest regret of a lifetime be missing out on the amazing adventures found only in the pages of a book.

If you don't already have the 1st book in my Second Chances series, RUNNING HOME, on your list of books to be read, add it today! It's on sale for just .99¢!

Thanks for stopping! And I hope you have an awesome summer!

Barbara

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