Summer’s here, I’m busy, and life swirls by faster than I can keep track of. I’ve been informed I will be a grandma again later this year. I know I should feel older but for some reason I don’t. I think grandkids keep me young and remind me there is life outside of the police department.
I know everyone (I may be exaggerating here) is impatiently awaiting the next Bad Luck book. The darn thing is 50% written and sits on the edge of my consciousness constantly. I’m also getting emails about the pink handcuff tour which will coincide with the book’s release. At some point, I need to sit down and work on Bad Luck in Small Town and I will, I promise, I really do!
I did manage to get in a wonderful vacation to Vegas and California’s wine country. We spent an afternoon in Murphys sampling too much wine. Nope, I wasn’t driving so was able to over imbibe. I discovered, as much as I love sweet red wines, I’m not a fan of desert wines. I guess liquid cake is just not my thing.
I received a call from my daughter a few weeks ago, after my 15-month old grandson locked her out of the house when she took the dogs outside to do their business. Bryson, the cute and lovable monster, then proceeded to crawl onto his diaper changing table and hit the emergency house alarm while his mother frantically tried to get back inside her fortress.
When the police showed up, she was holding a rock to break the back window and as you can imagine, things got a little hairy. When all was said, and done, one of the officers slipped a credit card against the locking mechanism and easily opened the door.
I’d like to thank those officers for asking question before shooting a woman armed with a rock, in the act of breaking and entering. I’d also like to thank them for improving my daughter’s home safety measures so she now owns a better lock. Bryson has no clue about the trouble he caused, but gosh, payback is a bitch, and my daughter was just like her son. I truly can’t wait until he’s a teenager and gives his mother lots of gray hair. I’m really evil that way.
Until next time, stay safe and be happy.
“Tis’ the season to beat your wife.”
This has been my before and after holiday slogan since becoming an officer. I don’t mean to be snappy or humorous. Domestic violence effects every economic group, gender, race, and religion. I’m no longer on patrol but I keep my ear to police traffic and backup fellow officers on domestic calls. In the first ten days of the year I’ve dealt with uncontrollable fighting brothers and a homicide/suicide threat with a lethal military knife. The brothers went to the hospital and the knife suspect went to jail, and no he was not a Veteran.
Our report log fills with domestic situations almost daily. I encourage my readers to get involved. Report domestic violence and learn about its impact on our children.
A few wonderful resources are:
Break the Cycle www.breakthecycle.org
Safe Horizon www.safehorizon.org
National Coalition Against Domestic Violence www.NCADV.org
Your gift can be as small as forwarding these links to someone in need and/or donating a used cell phone. Thank you!
Pink Handcuff Tour
I spent this past weekend on my couch with a box of Kleenex, hot herbal tea, and a stubborn head cold. I won’t call it the flu because I got my flu shot. My poor husband took care of the animals, cooked for me, and listened to me moan and groan through his birthday.
Whining like a baby didn’t keep me from being productive though. I managed to write 5,000 words on my next Bad Luck book, YEAH! I’m planning a summer release and also using my creativity to outline a pink handcuff tour. It’s in the early planning stages but here’s my idea.
I want to send my extra pair of pinkies (non-fur lined) to fellow readers and bloggers that think they can come up with fun photos using my pink cuffs. Sorry, no nudity allowed I’ll post the pics on my blog and let readers choose the best one(s). The winner gets to keep the handcuffs and I’ll pony up a gift certificate to someplace like Amazon or Barnes & Noble. I’m stealing the idea from the Mr. Bacon tour but I don’t think he’ll mind. I would love to see what my blogging friends and readers come up with.
Put your creativity caps on and start thinking about what you could do with pink handcuffs and yes, I’ll be sending the keys too. Email me at: suzieivy at gmail dot com, if you want in.
Criminal Lines Radio
I’m very excited to announce that I will be the guest on Criminal Lines Radio this Thursday, January 17th, from 7 to 9 p.m. central time with host Marguerite Ashton. Click here and scroll to the bottom right of the page to listen. Who knows what I’ll be discussing but I promise to be fun and informative, or wacky and intense.
Here’s the wonderful video promo (I look like such a baby cop in my academy graduation photo):
To all my friends and LE officers; stay safe, wear your seatbelt, and smile at someone today,
I’ve been absent from the blogosphere during the past month or so and I apologize. Finally my new Fang book has published; relief, sigh, jump up and down. The next book in the Bad Luck series is coming soon (I’m working on it today). My biggest excuse for not writing posts has been work. A friend and retired Bobby from England, currently residing in the US, just sent me an email and I think he says it best.
“Judging by what I’ve learned this last couple of months, doin’ police
work out here in the states is one dangerous occupation. There are
some whacked out nutters here, masquerading as the general populace,
holding down jobs and all.”
This pretty much describes what’s been happening on the streets lately. We are dealing with a huge methamphetamine problem. This leads to burglaries, violence, and just plain crazy actions on their part. Then we have the anti-government movement. There are a lot in our neck of the woods (Arizona in general). It doesn’t matter if the police agree or disagree with the current political agenda; they hate us for being part of the establishment.
We are also seeing a large coalition of white supremacists. I hate to lump them in with the anti-G but I think the two go hand in hand. I’m amazed at the number of homes I enter, for one reason or another, and see more and more symbols of hate. Click here if you are interested in knowing what to look for.
You know cops never like to admit they are scared but we talk about it amongst ourselves. We tell each other to watch our backs (cop talk – our 6), be alert, and make it home to our families. I feel bad that I’m one of the luckier ones because I only work two days of patrol a week and being a detective means I usually come in after the original volatile confrontation. Lucky me, but at the same time I’m afraid for the men at my department. They all have young children waiting at home for daddy. My husband bites his tongue many times (because he’s wonderful) but I know these wives live with daily fear and my heart goes out to them. I guess this is just part of being a cop’s wife or husband.
It’s quite difficult for me to tell everyone this but Mrs. Taylor from my post A Petrified Old Woman died on July 30th. Her declining heath finally forced her into a senior care facility. She was happy and chipper to the end. Her death has left an empty place in my heart even though I know she wouldn’t want it to. I’m smiling through my tears as I talk about her and her incredible spirit lives on.
I use this blog so I can smile and laugh frequently. I tend to stay away when I’m having trouble finding joy in my work life. The few posts I’ve written that deal with serious and sad issues have always generated words of comfort from my readers. I told myself this morning that if I didn’t break the cycle for my glum outlook I might never write another post, so this is it. Sorry!
I am thrilled to announce I’ve won another Top Cop Blog Award from VideoSurveillance.com I’m one of seven top blogs and the winning honors go to Cold Case Squad which is one of my personal favorite sites on the web. I am honored to be mentioned with the other great cop blogs though the paragraph and video below might make the powers that be change their mind in the future You can check out the top seven by clicking the link above.
On a completely tasteless, tactless, and inappropriate note, I looked up info to pass along about the symbols of hate and discovered if you put “white supremacist” in Google the top list of searches are all Dave Chappelle’s YouTube video of him masquerading as a black white supremist. I’ve included it below because I’m tasteless, tactless, and inappropriate, and this video made me laugh. Please do not watch if your sense of humor is on vacation or if you dislike strong language. Dave Chappelle I love you!
On to other subjects…I missed my release date for Bad Luck Officer, sorry. The book is complete, re-written, and completed again. It’s now in the extreme editing stage, ugh. I’m hoping to publish it next month so please keep your fingers crossed. Along with psychological help, crossed fingers can’t hurt.
I’m now running three blogs. The cold hard truth is that I’m a blogomaniac. I’ve decided to post on opposite weeks for my main two, Bad Luck Detective and Fang Chronicles. Fang is where I write about spiders, vampires and my crazy life outside of cop stuff. It’s also where I spread the word about my vampire and werewolf writing. The first book in the Fang Chronicles: Amy’s Story is now available at Amazon and Barnes & Noble (shameless plug here). Screaming Lettuce is the latest blog post.
I’m aware most of you know me as a non-fiction writer but I love paranormal books. They take me far away from my day to day police life. I’ve been a romance book junkie for many years too. I’m sorry to disappoint if you are cringing right now. Romance makes the world go round and I heard on television recently that the brain has three basic needs; sex, food, and sleep. I think women crave romance over sex but that’s just me. Amy’s Story has romance, sex, food, and sleep so I think I covered all bases.
This leads me to my third blog “Reading and Writing One Word at a Time” I think I might have been drinking the night I started this blog. I’m not buying any more vodka. This blog needs help. My idea was to promote writers like me. If you have reviewed a great book, have a writer’s tip or just want to share something about reading or writing, I would love to have you guest post. This also keeps me from feeling guilty that I don’t have time to keep this blog going. HELP WANTED!
The picture in this post is my actual vest. We have the option of wearing under or outer body armor. Carrying items on the outside of the vest relieves pressure from my back. It also makes me look bad ass, well, not really but I can dream can’t I? I think my pink handcuffs are an extra special added touch. The Taser helps too.
Small Town is alive and well. I am one of only four officers at the moment which is exhausting. I’m spending a lot of time on patrol but that can’t be helped. If you remember, I was promoted to Sergeant but then had it taken away by our City Council. I don’t have the title but I still get the added responsibility. I’m doing great in the roll because I supervise myself. I will say my boss is great to work for. She begins every day with a smile.
Baby: Hi everyone, I’m posting from Tennessee where my newest grandchild has entered the world. He has done little but sleep so taking pictures of him with open eyes is nearly impossible. He’s tiny, calm and perfect — like all my grandchildren. The older ones have grown out of the tiny and calm stages but PERFECT holds true.
I’m being told Small Town is doing fine without me. As with most things, I’m trying to look on the bright side, but if the department was a mess, it would mean better job security.
Goodbyes: The day I return to work will be a farewell to two of our officers. I will be losing Jim (my partner) and Astro (his K-9). It’s very sad but small towns notoriously underpay officers and Jim has decided he needs more money for his growing family. We have lost some of our best cops to this circumstance. If we don’t lose them early we lose them as well trained officers towards the end of their careers. In Arizona, retirement is paid based on a percentage of our highest three years of income. Working with Jim and Astro has been one of the highlights of my career.
Holiday Sirens: I have been invited to participate in a group called Holiday Sirens. We write police related books and blogs. All of us are being interviewed on Stacy Eaton’s Blog, to celebrate the holidays. Stacy is an officer as well as a wonderful police procedural fiction writer. Everyone involved is at least one of the two. I’ll announce more when I’m given an exact date, which will be sometime in December. I’ll be writing a guest blog post for this adventure as well.
Police One: I signed up for the PoliceOne online magazine the first week I became an officer. They have great articles about policing. They also host BLUtube.com, where I and my fellow officers watch police related videos. If this interests you, please click their link and take a look.
Typos: Last Friday, I received a Tweet from my friend, Natasha (Wicked Little Pixie, is her Blog). The conversation went something like this:
WLP – Smexy Books (online book review blog) called your book, Bad Lick Cadet. Wrong genre
Me – That is truly awesome! Wrong genre but hey, I’ll take all the publicity I can get!
WLP – *snickers* you can always write…no please don’t LOL
Me – You know, Sergeant Dickens probably tastes bad. Bad Lick works
Smexy Books – haha sorry ( Lick, Luck …it was still REALLY good and funny)
WLP – Laughing out loud! Best typo of the day
Smexy Books – *snicker* I’m so embarrassed
Me – Don’t be, I’m going to blog about this:-)
I’ve also decided, just for Smexy (click here for her blog) to re-write one of the scenes from Bad Luck Cadet for her. The bold and italic text are my “Smexy” revisions.
Bad Lick Cadet – Chapter 3
“Sgt. Big Dick,” I said to Rocco with feeling, “Is a gorgeous man and I have an uncontrolled need for him.”
I was grabbed by the arm and spun around. Sgt. Dickens stood there, eyebrows arched. He had never looked sexier.
“I will see you immediately in my office!”
Rocco gave me a look of complete terror. I gave him a small push in the direction of the dorms and immediately turned myself in the direction of Sgt. Dickens’ office and began marching. This was like being in high school all over. I was forty-five years old but my hormones were running wild. I swore I would not give into my lustful needs.
Sgt. Dickens was staring at his computer and waited about five minutes before speaking to me. I knew this drill. Sexual anticipation at its finest.
His voice was low when he finally spoke, “Why are you here Cadet Ivy?”
Was he serious? Our mutual attraction had been simmering for three weeks now.
He went on, “You are too beautiful to be at this academy, I can’t get you out of my mind. All day every day, I think about nothing but the texture of your skin and your beautiful breasts, which I have not seen and can only dream about.”
I believed him. My stomach was a quivering mass of jelly, but I looked him straight in the eye.
“I’m not willing to risk my future as an officer because of our feelings. This is important to me and our desire for each other will wait.”
He shook his head and told me I would have ten personal hill runs on Monday. He then dismissed me. I didn’t cry, at least not until I was in my car and heading home.
I realized I had completely forgotten I was married.
Okay, truth here, does anyone feel I might be able to sell more books with this version? I realize I need to change my age to be at least fifteen years younger but I’m willing. And just so you know, my husband laughed as I read this to him over the phone.
Thank you Smexy Books for giving me something to blog about while I’m on vacation and will you please, please, please review Bad Luck Officer when it comes out on January 13th?
Life has been changing at Small Town PD. I’ve complained of budget cuts and so on but we finally realized something had to give. Our officers were facing burnout and complete dissatisfaction with a job we needed to at least like.
I’m now back in uniform, working nights and having a blast. I’ve been given my own squad and I love every minute of it.
When my Police Chief offered me the position it came with the title of Sergeant. I was ecstatic. I could see it in lights, “The Bad Luck Sergeant.”
Four weeks ago, I started as the acting supervisor for Squad “B”. I have a great team and they have bent over backwards to get my street smarts up to par. During the past three years, I’ve filled in for daytime patrol but night duty and the traffic beat are a different story. I’m now practicing night shooting, clearing abandoned buildings and learning to work with a team. Awesome doesn’t quite describe it.
Unfortunately, our city council sees no reason to give me a promotion to fit my new job description and they have final say. I was left with a dilemma.
Police Departments are a paramilitary organization. Title and rank hold power.
I’ve never been a typical cadet, officer or detective. It looks as if I won’t be a standard supervisor either. I spoke to my squad and they all said to hell with it. They have begun calling me “boss.” I’m so thankful for their attitudes and willingness to follow me without stripes on my shoulder. Squad B rocks!
Jim is now my squad car partner. We will ride together for two months and then I will join another officer on my team. I’ve never worked with Jim and we were both a bit leery. Detectives are notoriously known for their laziness. Jim’s first words to me when I joined him in his car were, “We can look at frogs and rabbits all night or we can do some real police work.” These past two days Jim and I have arrested ten people. This has involved three DUI’s, a high speed car chase ending with the driver running on foot, Jim tackling and me Tasing. We’ve also had a drunken brawl and an idiot trying to sell a bag of marijuana at the corner store parking lot. The jail booking officers just shake their head and ask how many.
Jim’s best quality is his K-9 sidekick Astro.
Astro is a black lab trained to sniff out drugs. He is beautiful, courageous and smart. With Astro’s help, I landed my first major cocaine bust two weeks ago.
Astro loves Tasers. Not the volts but the laser light. He chases the light around the squad room playing his K-9 version of search, pounce, and destroy. The guys thought it hilarious when they pointed the laser up my leg to about thigh level. Astro took me to the ground flat on my ass. The laughter continued for an hour. I guess it’s a guy thing.
I’ve spent this past week working with my own dog Charlie. She’s a one hundred and sixty pound Rottweiler that can only sniff out food. I give her treats for chasing the laser light. I’m having a squad barbeque next weekend. Charlie and I are ready. It will be hard but I’ll try to resist pointing my laser at certain male anatomy. I swear.
My chief has told me not to give up hope. He’s planning to bring my position back before the city council. He’s been talking one on one with the council members and trying to swing things our way. I’ve decided The “Bad Luck Boss” doesn’t sound so bad and I’m willing to wait. As long as my team sticks together, we can handle anything.
PS. The picture above is Charlie on my king size bed. She’s the size of a moose with the demeanor of a bunny rabbit.
Sergeant Boss Ivy signing off
If you are new to my blog you need to start with Accidents Happen. This is the continuing story of achieving incredible dreams and finding myself along the way, NOT. This is really the story of my life as a police cadet, officer, and then detective after my midlife crisis. If I get more than one midlife crisis, I think I’ll be a spy for the CIA. (A girl can dream, can’t she?)
In between felony cases, pets, gardening, and my husband, I’m a writing fool. Due to budget cuts and injured officers, I’m also working some patrol shifts. It hampers my case load, but being on the street is always interesting.
I was able to work a night shift a few weeks ago. Nights have a different feel and your brain goes into heightened sensitivity mode. It left me exhausted (brain dead), and feeling my age. The other officer on duty enjoyed laughing at my expense. I had never realized before, at least not on the job, but I’m a hugger. I know so many people in town and we don’t shake hands, we hug. By the end of the shift, my fellow officer counted three hugs. We probably came in contact with fifteen people. I hugged two people during separate traffic stops and one after going to a woman’s house on a call for service. At one point during the night, I thought we were in for a high speed car chase. It was nice to feel that adrenaline rush again. The bottom line is I love being a detective. Helping victims (hugs) and putting bad guys away for a long time is what I live for.
Writing is my other passion and I’m hard at work on the Bad Luck Officer book. Writing a novel is much different than writing my blog and I feel my blog is being neglected. I’ve been thinking about sharing stories from the streets of Small Town to keep my blog alive. Some stories will be in the book and some won’t. I work very serious cases, so forgive me for sharing only the lighter side of my adventures. It’s a great stress reliever. In BLO, the book, I have included the serious, terrifying and humorous adventures of my first two years as an officer. A rookie’s life is never dull.
You may be asking yourself, what’s with the cow picture at the top of the page? I named her Bertha. She and I did not get along. Bertha refused to go back into her fence and I was nothing but a pesky fly on her ass. I tried honking my horn and then using my siren. It’s possible Bertha is deaf. She ignored me. I finally called a rancher friend of mine for advice. He told me, “You don’t speak Cow.” Darn! I’m good with animals. I understand horses and dogs. Cows though, are beyond me. I ended up giving Bertha a swat on the rear end. What did she do? She kept eating. This fly meant nothing to her. The conclusion to my story is the dumb cow won. I’ll leave you to decide who the dumb cow really is.
My garden speaks for itself. I modeled it after a Spiritual Healing Garden I found in a book. My husband calls it the alien landing pad. You can see lots of strawberries in the back right corner. My garden also produces onions, squash, zucchini, herbs and tomatoes. The picture is this spring’s garden before wildness takes over. The pride and joy is my fishpond. I have four, eight-inch goldfish I raised from fifteen cent feeder fish out of a Wal-Mart’s aquarium. Their names are Uno, Dos, Tres, and Quatro. Stripe came to a tragic end last year, but that’s a story for another blog. Think Killer Fish meets Rottweiler. Stripe put up a good fight though.
As always, thanks for checking in,
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