SNOWFALL: Link For Purchase

http://www.amazon.ca/Snowfall-Rochelle-Renee/dp/1519434278/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1448858105&sr=1-1&keywords=snowfall+rochelle+renee

PRESS RELEASE FOR MY BRAND NEW NOVEL '"SNOWFALL" Released November 21,2015

http://www.prweb.com/releases/2015/11/prweb13102928.htm#!

REACH FOR THE SKY: Going the extra mile for love

How far would you go for love? What sacrifices are imminent or impossible for you?

Some people detest the thought of ever being involved in a long distance relationship. The thought of putting oneself through the agony of missing someone across that great stretch of the miles and watching the endless hours on the clock before you meet again...just seems daunting and avoidable.

But what I've learned in life, at age 38, that I've had to BEND a little, to get something tangible and REAL out of my love life. I've certainly had to REACH much higher than I'd ever dreamed I would. SKY HIGH, in fact. Somewhere, an airlines agent is counting my frequent flyer miles.

A few months ago, if you'd asked me "would you date this man who lives 2,500 miles away?" well my response would have been "not a snowball's chance in hell."

To me, it's just too hard. Not really worth the time and effort. The separation anxiety is heavy. Plus, where is the reasoning? The logic? Aren't there enough men in Canada? Ontario, for that matter?

Quality over quantity, alas, is my reasoning. My verdict. This Canadian girl has fallen hard for a California man. Top notch human being, filled with love and compassion. He has the biggest heart of gold I've ever found in a person. He's also a hard-working, smart, funny as hell, deeply sensitive, and  doting father to his grown kids. Why couldn't he have been born closer, you might ask? A few blocks away? In the next city?

The answer is simply this: HE WASN'T. He was placed 2,500 miles away so we would appreciate one another. The Universe is filled with wonder. Its massive opportunities and boundless mysteries are there for the taking. These mysteries are made for the inquisitive and searching...like myself. I always love a good adventure, and why the heck WOULDN'T I love a man who is not easily within my reach? To me, that's just too boring and basic. Mediocre love was never meant for a die-hard romance queen like me.

Let me share something profound. Some time ago, 22 years to be exact, I wrote a love story called AGAINST ALL ODDS, about a bi-coastal connection between Starr Taylor, a Chicago reporter, and Peter Adams, a Los Angeles pop singer. Well, apparently, my clairvoyance and prophecy always leads to a real life manifestation. Fast forward to 2015, and here I am, a woman in a bi-coastal romance with the same distance and almost identical profile of the two main characters.

I guess you could say that I wrote my own love story, some 22 years ago as a precocious teenage girl with high hopes and big dreams. The real miracle is just astounding. How I even found my "real life hero" is a case of beating immeasurable odds. Meeting by chance on social media in the most unlikely of events, we've definitely achieved something that even a blockbuster Hollywood film could rival. Only difference is...we are REAL, ordinary people with no glitz, glamour or headlines. There's no red carpet arrival, expensive suits or gowns. The paparazzi is not stalking us in the bushes. We live and breathe as normal humans. We laugh, we cry, we love...like authentic people.

Reaching high for this love is the greatest risk or gamble I've ever done. I want to say it's the biggest reward of my life. To have the love of a high value man whose heart is pure and intentions sincere. Who wants to make me happy, day in and day out. Who is my biggest supporter and loudest cheerleader. Who makes me laugh till my sides hurt and I'm begging for oxygen. Who eases the pain of a long, arduous flight. Who holds my hand when things get scary. The man just GETS ME. Like no one else ever could. It's mind blowing. Gratitude ripples from my heart, overflowing.

The advice I would give anyone who is opting for the "easy route" of just loving someone locally in their own region is this: NEVER BE AFRAID TO TAKE A CHANCE ON SOMEONE OUTSIDE YOUR COMFORT ZONE. IT MIGHT BE THE MOST EPIC STORY OF YOUR LIFE.

As always, I'm right here cheering for you.

xo RR xo

FAMILY ISN'T BLOOD: FAMILY IS YOUR SOUL TRIBE

Contemplating a major move here as one big era of my life is ending. It's a huge concept, not one to be taken lightly. I have the courage of a lion, and it's true that I can survive anything. That's just how I roll.

Thoughts of leaving my sleepy bedroom town behind have me very reflective these days. I built a life here, three decades ago. Life blossomed. I rode my first horse here, had my first kiss, gave birth to my only child, not to mention, wrote all my novels here also. Life in this small town shaped my identity and forged my all-encompassing sense of Self.

Bittersweet memories linger. Many photographs have been taken. I find it important to keep a time capsule or some other commemorative ritual. Time is of the essence. Nothing should be lost.

This period of reflection has reminded me that family members have not always supported me. It's unfortunate, but in the constraints of a family dynamic, there is a sense of conformity where most members follow the lead of the dominant parent. Myself? I do not fall into this dynamic. I am the proverbial Black Sheep. Think outside the box? What box?? I like to think of myself as a trailblazer, misfit or rebel. Somehow, following the crowd just doesn't work for me.

People have come into my life who blew any preconceived notions out of my head of what "family" was known to be. Thankfully, they also lit the path for me, with a candle of hope. I grew into who I was meant to be, with a little help from a couple of great mentors.

These days, family is anyone who belongs to my soul tribe. Those who resonate deeply with me, finish my sentences, think and feel like me, accept me the way that I am. The ones who judge, condemn, slander, or put me down --though blood related -- are demoted to a dark corner. They don't get any more precedence. The only legit ones who matter are those who make me FEEL nothing but good vibes and support me--AS I AM.

This year, I started "cleaning house." People whom I had known for a good span of time (say, five years or so) were cut off. No, it's not a question of me being disloyal or anything. On the contrary, it was THEIR choice to not be loyal. To me, anyone who didn't serve me anymore or was not contributing to my greater spiritual growth was hindering me. These people were not even supporting my career or path. It's crucial to take stock of your friend list from time to time, and see who is deducting from your value. Do they make you feel like trash? Then it's high time you gave them the boot.

It's unfortunate, but some family members have no desire to support me or give edifying words that uplift me. If someone is bringing me down, I pull the plug. Really, I have no time or patience for this nonsense.

Family is simply those who love me and build me up. Family is the friend who calls up to take me to lunch "just because" or the person who calls to brighten my day, prompting me to feel like a million bucks. Or just to hear my voice and tell me how much I mean to him.

I want to thank a special man in my life who daily inspires me, supports me, and affirms that I am not only important to him, but I am the key to HIS happiness and abundant future as well. He is determined to profess, provide and protect. His presence is consistent, day after day. I'm proud to put him on my list of those whom I call FAMILY.

I love you T.G.

Finally, to those out there wondering where they stand or if they matter to someone, check the mirror. See the phenomenal person staring back at you. Check your inner compass. It will never steer you wrong. It knows the way. Ditch those toxic family members and "frenemies" who pose as comrades. Seriously. You deserve far better. I mean it.

Cheering for you always,

xo RR xo

Magellan Featuring Alex Nester

http://magellansongs.com/magellan-feat-alex-nester-idol-rb-singer-takes-on-classic-dust-in-the-wind/

THE SOUL OF A WOMAN

The soul of a woman is vastly underrated.

We've come a long way in evolving as a species and in the realm of history, women have advanced through the years. We won the right to vote, the privilege to divorce (without moral condemnation), we've advanced up the ranks to CEO or some high powered executive. We even have females running for Congress.

But the soul of our existence is highly unnoticed.

We have a power unlike any other. We are women. We are STRONG. Invincible. Our bodies take a beating. We survive child birth, disease, hard work, emotional duress, and many burdens of life. Still, we come out on top.

Wonder Woman might have been a fantasy role, not a legit human, per se. But she is forever exalted as the prime example of a powerful woman. She is fast, she is fine, and what a force to be reckoned with!

Myself, I don't claim to be Wonder Woman. But she and I have never been seen in the same room at the same time, just sayin.'

The soul of a woman is what I want to address here.

The soul is a component that is highly important to our survival. If the soul dies, then we ourselves die while living. That is the human tragedy. So we must keep our souls nurtured and sustained. We must feed them with joy, goodness and truth. Never letting toxic things invade.

The world is in dire need of more women of substance. Women with courage, heart, soul and a powerful VOICE.

To all the ladies out there who think they don't make a difference, think again. SOMEONE desperately needs you right now. Your impact, though you assume small, is not scant by any means.. Your voice, compassion, mercy...it truly does make waves. Bring your soul everywhere you go. Bring your candle to light up the darkness.

Let's bring a collective force to the human race. Can we together make a decision right here? That we will let our courage ring true and our souls bring the fire.

Remember, life is waiting. Will you heed the call? Love is waiting. So much relies on our soul. Our bright, blazing torch of hope is needed.

Cheering for you always,

xo RR xo

Don Jackson and the Heartbeat of The Internet

http://heartbeatoftheinternet.com/webcasts/the-color-purple

BE A HERO IN SOMEONE'S LIFE

In our daily encounters, we have many chances to make a difference in someone's life. Do we take these opportunities when they are presented? Or do we rush on by in our self-focused little haze?

My own personal joy comes from giving to others, with no expectation of return. That $20 I slipped to the woman on the street who looked down and out? It gave me a rush of adrenaline like nothing else. Just knowing I may never run into her again, is remarkable itself. The beaming smile on her face affirmed that I'd made an impact. The added bonus was an hour later at a lotto counter, the machine went off with an instant win of $100. Now, THAT is something else. I don't expect miracles like this in the moment, but I gladly welcome them.

The lunch I covered for a friend "just because"? Well, a flutter of joy filled my heart when I paid the bill. No score keeping here. It's not authentic. Don't do that. Just give. It's a big boomerang effect, it comes back to you in profound ways you would never imagine.

Giving is joyful. It blesses the receiver, makes a huge difference (not always monetarily) and in turn, sends back a ripple of blessing and abundance to the giver. You just never know who you're impacting, what life you are making better by the random act of your kindness.

Being a hero in someone's life doesn't take much. It could be a favor granted, helping someone load a sofa on a truck to their new home. It might be just lending an ear to someone who lost her husband to cancer, or a friend who put her ailing mother into a long term care facility. These life changing moments hit hard, they can be very taxing emotionally and mentally on the people involved. Our friends and colleagues need us. Often, the ones who appear rock solid on the outside are actually the ones falling apart behind the scenes. They're feeling a river of tears course down their face, after a long day, sitting alone in an empty room. Believe me, I have been there. It takes a prayer and a strong heart to feel that wave of exhaustion ride out.

Who will you reach today, in your busy life? Will you strike up a conversation with that co worker on your smoke break at work? You know the one, she looks hard on the outside, rarely smiles. You think she is just "unfriendly" when really, she is going through hell. No one ever asks. They assume she is a snob or just a cold person. Go ahead, take a chance and send her a smile or word of encouragement. I have reached people on a whim like this. The floodgates that open are truly astounding!

Recently, doing a buy and sell for household items, a woman who is a repeat customer came to me. She stood in my driveway and poured her heart out to me. Her daughter had been murdered. The magnitude of trust and connection in our conversation really hit me like a tsunami. Wow, a total stranger was sharing her biggest defining life moment...I was blessed and honored by the gift of our exchange. She has come back a few more times, just to chat. She told me something that warmed me all over: "since the death of my daughter, I have become a hermit. I rarely go anywhere, except for the part time job I work. But YOU my dear, are someone I could go to lunch with. You're special. You actually care. The others don't have a clue."

Misty eyes here, as I write this entry. The Universe has brought me so many profound experiences, in 2015 alone. It blows my mind. You could say it's because I have an open mind and very receptive heart.

Just last night, someone asked, "how is it after all you've been through, that you remain open?" My response was simple. "I'm not a victim, but a VICTOR. Those scars I bear, they are just stepping stones, promptly me onward to the next BIG MIRACLE in my life.

You'd be amazed by what's coming to you...if you remain open and keep your heart warm. Please promise me you won't become bitter. It blocks the flow of abundance. It does you absolutely no good at all. You have so much to give, so many gifts to share with the wounded and lost who are searching for guidance.

If you will take a chance today -- BE A HERO IN SOME PERSON'S LIFE-- it will make a world of difference. Trust me.

Cheering for you always,

xo RR xo

MAGELLAN TALKS NEW ALBUM AND CHICAGO THE BAND

http://www.downtownmagazinenyc.com/magellans-trent-gardner-talks-new-album-prog-rock-u-s-politics-and-chicago-the-band/

GET OUT OF YOUR HEAD, GET INTO YOUR HEART

The world is run on digits, facts and figures. People are constantly thinking, mulling around in their head space, over analyzing this and that. Money, quotas, capital, salaries, contracts, stock markets. Seems fine, considering the world is run on money.

But it also seems we've forgotten we are human. Our gentle hearts tick behind those hard rib cages. The blood coursing through our veins, the oxygen in our lungs, our hearts pulsing to remind us we are ALIVE.

My point? Well, when was the last time you enjoyed the company of those who matter to you? I mean, REALLY ENJOYED, were fully present, turned off the cell phone. Looked at the stars or a blazing sunset splashed across a mauve sky muted in orange and magenta. Were you busy texting, scrolling, and emailing, while your daughter lost her first tooth or son took his first steps? Did you ignore the proud declaration of your teenager when they told you they made the Honor Roll?

People, let's get real with ourselves. The world will always be running. The money will always come rolling in, the dollars in plentiful supply. But here and now, THE PRESENT, it will be gone. You will have missed it all. Because you were in your HEAD and not your heart.

It's no secret I've been accused of being too fluffy, too sentimental, sensitive, REAL. But guess what? I like it here in the land of cherries and rainbows. Because, frankly, right here, is HOME. I can feel every nuance of emotion, sadness, confusion, fear, wonder, triumph and mystery. The reason? I allow myself to be authentic. No one runs me. Those "friends" who scoff and call me a dreamer or lone wolf? Tough luck. Because I like to be a weirdo. Sure, maybe I'm stuck with my jukebox oldies channel and Bobby Vinton records. So what, if I love poodle skirts and saddle shoes on Halloween instead of the typical zombie makeup? Better yet, I'm basking here in the foolish glow of what a Connie Francis record sounds like on my retro stereo. Something about that little "crackle" of the needle on a big LP. Yeah, that's REAL to me. I like it here, in the realm of weirdness. Cause I am living in my HEART, not my head.

You, too, should try it sometime. Allow yourself the luxury of simplicity. Get away from the madness. Park at a lake, dip your feet in the cool waters, listen to the cry of the loons. Throw a rock in and watch it ripple. Watch the baby blue of the crisp September sky. BREATHE IN, BREATHE OUT. Remind yourself that you're HUMAN. Yes, you. I'm not talking about Robocop or the tin man. You, my friend, are a human being. Let yourself feel every wave of emotion, every loss, every victory, every great moment of this abundant life. Drink in the fresh autumn air, watch your kids laugh, hug your spouse, call up a friend for lunch. Reminisce about old times and plan some new memories, while you're at it.

That is why, everyday and always, I will be cheering you on.

Passionately,

xo RR xo

DON'T MAKE ME DULL MY SPARKLE FOR YOU

I'm sorry, but is my sparkle blinding you today?

I'll admit, over the course of my life, there has always been that one female in a social group or a co-worker trying to bring me down. My problem, they suggest, is that I smile too much, look too enthused, I'm not taking my job seriously. It makes me sick, to be honest. These haters just won't leave me alone.

Like an epidemic, they come out in droves occasionally. Ever notice when you're doing well -- REALLY, REALLY WELL -- that's when a Negative Nancy or Debbie Downer tries to rain on your parade.

There's this one girl in my circle of friends (I'll call her Andrea, just to save myself a backlash). She dotes on me sometimes, seems to be really into me. Messages or calls out of the blue. Claims to show "empathy" if I have a bad day. But when I'm on a winning streak with Keno or my love life is STELLAR, she is nowhere to be found. She sometimes goes two months not talking to me. Hides in her cave. Shuts me out. It's cruel and revolting. I pretend to be neutral. I'd just cut her lose, to save myself the hassle. But you see, I have an obligation to her. She pulled a suicide card on me. She's also linked to my immediate circle. She makes me feel bad about her life, how everyone around her is doing so well, rolling in money, etc etc and she is stuck in the same spot. I can't help her. Really, I can't. She doesn't want my help. She just wants to vent, complain, dump on me.

Energy vampire, that's the terminology for 2015. It's the trendy way of saying Narcissistic Sociopath.

As the title of this blog suggests, I still refuse to dull my sparkle so this person can feel less bad about herself. I'm keeping my basket of glitter. In fact, I have an airplane full of glitter, ready to drop from the sky. I hate that people try to make me look DULL, lackluster, like an old penny, littered on the ground. Its value is next to nil.

My entire growing up years, my mother made me feel small. Powerless. She silenced me. As a teen and in my early 20's, she said my neckline was too low, or if I walked alone in my small bedroom town after 9:00 p.m., people would mistake me for a "street walker." Ironically, I was a virgin til almost 21 and married the guy.  In later years, I suffered hypothyroidism, and gained some weight. Regardless of the protein diets, vegetarian diets, healthy shakes, 3 power walks/runs a day and 4L of water, I still couldn't lose a pound.

The abuse got worse then. In my thirties, she told me I was fat, meaning I was not pretty enough, and I needed to look and act like this 6 foot tall, statuesque blonde named Jackie. "Why can't you marry into money like Barb's daughter? Can't you lose 40 pounds and find a good man like Jackie did?"
"Oh, she's so beautiful! She's so thin. She's a successful school teacher. Why don't you apply for a high paying job?"

Body shaming? Don't ever do this to your daughter. It's heartless, cruel, and degrading. It makes them have eating disorders and waste away to a bone rack. No REAL MOTHER would reduce their daughter to this.

Naively, I thought there was something wrong with me. Until I saw my mother go on another crash diet, aka "30 day juice fast" to lose 30 lbs and look "slim, just like in high school when I was a size 6/7," she would proudly chant. Upon losing the weight (and these diets went on for 30 years) she would parade around in a new outfit and rub it in my face at how I'd somehow failed in the beauty department. But then in 2011, she had a gall bladder attack and was rushed to the hospital for emergency surgery. I guess I was right about those dangerous diets catching up to her. She could've lost her life. Scary, right?

Another time, I served meals at a retirement home. This was a good gig. There was 130 seniors who experienced my smile, my cheerful banter, and most were close to death at any moment. I made their remaining years worthwhile. Some girl I'll call "Terri," just 18, wore a scowl everyday to work. She must've had a rough life, running to daddy all the time for cash handouts. She had a great body, half decent looks, and planned to go to University in Italy that Fall. Still, she was a miserable wench. She snapped under her breath, watching me entertain the residents, "I hate Rochelle!" By the end of Summer, she'd quit early, handing me her remaining shifts. At the time, I had no idea what I'd done to make her hate me. After all, I loved all the girls I worked with. I was 28, working alongside girls age 17 and 18, but they all liked me and cracked jokes. Many knew they could phone me and drop their shifts on me, if they had last minute party plans or an invite to some cottage. I was Miss Reliable. In later years, I reflect on this nasty person, and summed it up to this: she just hated her life. She hated herself. There was nothing I could do about it.

Moral of the story: since I've experienced females trying to body shame me or restrict my sparkle to No Man's Land, my outlook has changed. I refuse to let anyone diminish me to a speck of dirt.

Do I make you feel uncomfortable? Well, then, that's too bad. Learn to deal with it. And get some professional help. No one has the right to belittle another human and make them feel like garbage.

"She writes romance novels and publishes them? Who does she think she is, Danielle Steel?"

I laugh now, at some of the slander that has boomerang'd back to me. I'm not doing anything wrong, just following my heart's desire, and doing what I love. These people don't like the new and improved Rochelle? Well, stick it. Cause I'm not going anywhere.

Word to the wise: Never let someone dull your sparkle. Keep on shining, no matter what. Yes, there will be tough times. There will be haters. People who can't handle your megawatt smile and positive vibes. That's okay. Keep up the summer glow, the ray of sunshine, that beacon streaming from you. This hurting world needs more of you. Believe me.

Cheering you on. Always.

xo RR xo

CHICAGO THE BAND: Heart and Soul Tour 2015

CHICAGO THE BAND ~Molson Ampitheatre~ HEART AND SOUL TOUR 2015

August 29, 2015 at 11:46pm

PublicFriendsFriends except AcquaintancesOnly MeCustomClose FriendsNerium InternationalSee all lists...Toronto, Ontario AreaFamilyAcquaintancesGo Back

I'll admit, I've been a Chicago stalker since 1993. Ok, maybe stalker is a little harsh. Follower? Fan? By no means a groupie. I have never been backstage, although I would have given my left arm to ogle Bill Champlin in the flesh and get a pic with him.

Something about those horn-blaring, keyboard-playing, sexy older dudes just made my heart pump and pulse quicken. Now, 22 years later, I still get a rush when I watch them on stage.

Have I gone mad? my mother used to ask me, when I was a kid of 16. As a hazel-eyed, precocious, dreamer of a girl who spent her Sunday nights glued to the radio for Casey Kasem's Countdown of the Top 20 Hits in the land, I was a certified odd duck. While other girls were out cruising in cars in boys, going to raves or bush parties, and lighting blunts, I was in my room like the perfect little Bible thumping, goody two-shoes, penning her romance novels, aka Danielle Steel style and shrieking when Cetera came on the radio with a 70s or 80 classic like Old Days or You're The Inspiration.

No, Mommie Dearest, I did not lose my marbles. I simply found a band that spiked my heart rate better than any Stones or washed up rock band could do. All the other girls worshipped Kurt Cobain or Brad Pitt, but I had the image of Peter Cetera plastered all over the walls of my tiny room. She panicked, thinking I was going to run off to Idaho and find him.

When I discovered Cetera had left in 1985, I was bummed out, to say the least. But then, in June 1993, I decided to take a shot at seeing the boys in concert at a tiny pavilion called the Ontario Place Forum in Toronto. I spent six weeks cutting grass on the one acre spread at home, and my dad paid me a meager $15 a week. It was the Chicago concert, though, come hell or high water!!

There is a point to this rambling. And I will get to it. The band's review is here, beneath the plethora of gushing. I promise.

From that pleasant first night of summer, in 1993, I was hooked on Jason and the boys. That was when Mister Scheff wore those black sleeveless shirts, flaunting his huge biceps and adorable mop top of curls. Bill had that sexy growl, black leather vest and long silver hair in a poni-tail. Robert wore black spandex pants and a big purple shirt, hair in a blunt cut just grazing the shoulder.

Over the years, the guys from the Windy City have never let me down. Each show, mainly in the Toronto area, was fantastic. Back in the '90s, they played Kingswood Music Theatre at Canada's Wonderland or Casina Rama. Each time, my mother groaned, fussed, argued, and tried to come against my passion of "those old men again. When are you gonna grow out of this phase and give it up?" All the while, her condescending words fell on deaf ears. My sister and I got on that GO bus and headed for the show. I'm a stubborn Taurus, so I usually get my way. Miss a once-a-year show to see my boys? I'd rather die.

Fast forward to 2015. Now, with a new vocalist and keyboard player replacing Champlin, I wasn't keen on hearing him sing. After all, I'd been spoiled by Jason and Bill singing "Hard Habit To Break" with that perfect blend of harmonies. The smokey, blues tone of Bill and the Cetera-esque vocals of Jason. How could a fill-in possibly emulate that?

Soon enough, I would find out I was wrong. I needed to give the "new guy" a chance. Who was I to judge this Lou Pardini character, anyways? I hadn't heard a single note he ever sung. Come off it, girl. Just swallow your pride.

Earth, Wind and Fire were on double-billing with the boys. This was going to be a big deal!! Earlier in the week, I was stoked to be caller #7 on the local radio station CKDO when Chris Coppin answered the phone and asked: "CKDO...who is this?" I remember jumping up and down, shrieking, because for the life of me, I'd never won tickets to see my favorite band. For years, I'd spent piles of money on the tickets, never having the thrill of winning them for free. Here now was the moment, and I couldn't be happier.

My sister and I arrived at the gig early. The lineup was huge. No one was let through the main gates til 6:40 p.m., and when finally, we all started milling through, I could feel my anxiety rising. Dammit, get me to the Keg pavilion pronto! You see, just that afternoon at 2:00 p.m., I was stoked to hear from The Keg restaurant on twitter. They'd seen my Chicago-tagged tweet from the night before, stating how excited I was to see Jason and the crew. The Keg sent me a private message: "We'll be there, too, Rochelle. Tell us the number of people in your group, and we'll have complimentary drinks and food for everyone on the house." All I remember was running out of the house with fire in my heels and amped to the max to get to that concert. Free tickets to my favorite band AND free drinks and food? The gods must be smiling on me!!What the hell was happening with my karma lately?It seemed to be on steroids.

Finally, arriving at the venue, having some drinks and SUPERB appetizers, we all mingled with a small crowd. We were given laminated passes to wear around our necks. Sauntering around with food in one hand and a drink in the other, I was right in my glory.

Chicago came onto the stage around 7:45 p.m. The crowd went wild. They started the show with "Beginnings," their classic hit from the early part of their career. Robert sounded smooth as ever. I watched him on the jumbo screen and turned to my sister. "Does that man never age? Look at that full head of hair. He's 70 but looks 55."

All the guys dress so well. Stylish jeans and a dark blazer, mostly. All sexy, all perfect eye candy for the ladies in the crowd. Something happens to a Chicago fan when we witness the guys come to the stage. There's a collective moment of awe, then the cheering erupts. The chill through the body. The heart rate elevated. Our mood spikes, we become one with each other, all 16,000 of us.

This concert rocked my socks. Every song was pure magic, people grooving, dancing, laughing. Happy faces flooded the crowd and the joy that spread through that place was phenomenal.

The show ran about 3 hours and was well worth every penny. No bad review here. What else can I say? The weather was perfect, 18c/64f, not a cloud in site. The Full Moon shone in a cloudless sky, and the boats dotted the harbour over pristine Lake Ontario.

Jason and the guys covered all their big hits like "Make Me Smile" and "25 or 6 to 4," and sang their hearts out. When Mr. Scheff belted out the classic "Street Player," I shrieked with delight. It's thrilling to hear the band revisit some old hits that were not previously covered in the set. I've heard over the years that they really love their fans. There's no such thing as a bad Chicago performance, and I'll vouch for that.

So when the new guy on keyboards came out and rocked the keys with his blond-streaked hair, black vest, white shirt and black pants, I was a believer. Gone was Champlin and his signature growl, but in his place was a soulful crooner named Lou Pardini.
At the risk of sounding weird, I'll confess I have a thing for Mr. Lou. Besides, what's not to love? Slick vocals, killer style and sex appeal that makes any hot-blooded woman from age 35-55 swoon with lust. Okay, okay. I'm being a little extra, but you get the picture.

Moral of the story, my boys did the show justice. They gave us a stellar performance, and made us proud of their 48 years of fantastic music. We came, we saw, we drank, we ate, we swooned. The band conquered.

By the end of the night, this tired little Chicago fan crawled into bed exhausted, yet fulfilled. Happy and sated, because my head was ringing with Robert crooning the words to Dialogue Part 1 & 2.
The last thing I remember was putting a clip of Lou on my smartphone, belting out "Call On Me" from the Montreal concert in 2012. Then I fell into a deep, satisfying slumber, with visions of hot older guys dancing in my head.
You're welcome, Mother.

Music Elevates Our Mental Health (Chicago The Band)

https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/music-elevates-our-mental-health-chicago-band-rochelle-renee?published=u

Closing A Chapter: Grief and Transitioning

While this blog is mainly about passion, following your heart's desire and finding true love, let me shift the focus for a moment to the one thing that affects us all at one point in our life: GRIEF.

Now, I'm not here to be a Debbie Downer or Negative Nancy. I don't want to make your sunny Saturday any less cheerful.

But for a minute, just hear me out. GRIEF is powerful. It's a heavy-hitting human emotion. It can steal the wind from your lungs. It can knock you off your pedestal, rob you of a lifetime of joy. Once where only bubbly happiness resided in your peppy soul, now a flood of darkness and hopeless despair has crept in, choking that giddy girl or smiling guy.

When GRIEF hits, look out!

Recently, the home I've lived in since I was five years old was sold to a developer. I knew this day was coming, did not want to come to terms with it. Oh sure, I've been warned for years. The family heirloom was going to be sold off for a handsome sum of money, leaving the seniors to retire and downsize.

This place has been my saving grace, my EVERYTHING. If anyone were to label someone or something their "lifetime love" then I would indeed dub this place exactly that. I don't think my heart could be owned by someone in the same way it's ruled by this old homestead. Here's an excerpt from my memoir, to be released in the coming months:

Chapter One 

When the news broke, it devastated me.  

They were selling my home. 

A part of me felt robbed. A part of me that I could never get back. I'd moved here at five years old and basically grew from shy, pig-tailed wallflower to outspoken, jaded adult. Everything that encompassed my life began and ended in this place. 

I recall the summer thunderstorms, the fallen trees, and the bewildering clash of thunder. Those were some awful, but magnificent storms. The smell of the rain falling on the meadow. There was nothing like it. Part moss and part hot, sticky air. 

Summer nights from age 16-21, planted by the radio in my small room, listening to the radio broadcast LOVERS AND OTHER STRANGERS. These nights defined me. They inspired my own romance writing, and I learned a world of wealth in the articles, poems and love songs that were played. Encapsulated in my heart and mind, these memories are forever branded. No other era of my life felt so real, so joyful. I cannot express what life felt for me, listening to that show and feeling those hopeful feelings for the future. I had big dreams for a young, awkward teen with no worldly experience. Those hot nights led to a flood of romantic passages and powerful prose. They were truly a definitive part of shaping my author experience.

My parents never had air conditioning til I was grown up and out of the house. I sweltered in my tiny room all summer, with a cold face cloth and small fan. 

In Autumn, the towering Oaks would morph from summer green to flaming red and burnt orange. They were spell binding. I took many pictures, every autumn. It was my favorite season. I worshiped it. Finally, cooler weather, where I was comfortable and happy. Firewood burning in old chimney's across town and the occasional rain and cobalt skies. Crisp leaves crunching under foot, and kids begging for candy in freakish costumes. This is how I remember my charming little Southern Ontario town. 

Winters spent here with the oil furnace cranked. The old, drafty floors and outdated windows brought that chill to the bones. Yet, I nestled under warm covers and slept better here than any place on earth. There was a peace to this place, as though angels blessed it. Set on fifty acres of lush greenery before the greedy developers decided to take the land, it was a paradise. I still cling to every childhood memory of running in wheat fields or playing in the hayloft. Summers of manhunt in the corn fields or a bonfire with roasted marshmallows before the city people moved in to rat us out to the fire department. Riding my jet black filly "Cadeau" (fittingly, French for "gift"--a 13th birthday present). The forest behind the house was magical, my own prayer garden. I would run away there when Mom was cruel and spiteful. It was a safe haven, a place to be heard by a Higher Power that sheltered me.

Now, some thirty years later, so much has changed, to the landscape, and to me. 

Sitting here on my Toshiba Satellite laptop, I write by candlelight. Years have passed, bittersweet years of pain, hardship, joy and some good memories too. 

Losing the homestead is killing me. 

This place is my first love and undeniably, my last. 

Where do I begin? To tell the story of a place that owns every corner of my sentimental soul? 

(end of memoir passage)

I hope this blog entry sheds light on what grief means to me. The whole point here is to just identify that stages of our lives will experience highs and lows. That change is constant, and to go against it is to deny our own evolution. While change is functional and healthy, it also warrants the need for a season of grief and self examination. We must embrace all the feelings of the change, and let ourselves feel the grief, sadness, loss and anger. Like any loss or breakup, to move forward, we must transition through the stages of this change.

Female friends -- one or two that I've confided in-- don't seem to get it. They chant "cheer up, dude, change is for the best."

But I cringe at their lackluster comebacks. They have no idea what they're talking about. They never lived here, loved here, had their first child here, wrote a string of passionate books, while also losing and finding themselves in this place. I've left here twice and come back again when those marriages failed. Let me tell you, there's no place on earth like this one.

So, in closing...to those clueless people in your circle who slap you on the back and tell you to "cheer up, life goes on." They have no right to tell you how to FEEL and at what pace to progress or to just "move on."

Grief needs healing and subsequent closure. Take your time, cry, weep, wallow over the loss. Let the reality sink in. Let the wounds heal. Then pick yourself back up.

Sure, change is good, they say. You'll love it over here, they say.

THEY don't know what they're talking about.

Own your story. Live your life. Never back down. Stay true to you.

Cheering for you always.

Stay passionate,

xo RR xo

SHE

https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/she-rochelle-renee

BEAUTY FOR ASHES: FROM GRIEF TO GRATITUDE

https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/beauty-ashes-from-grief-gratitude-rochelle-renee?published=t

Fall In Love With Yourself

I recall the loneliest times of my life and they make me cringe.

Wounded by a failed second marriage, I carried the pain around for years. Four at least, before I moved on, let the wounds start to heal, and file for the divorce. This did not happen overnight. Along the way, I met quite a few people who helped me see the light. Men who made me smile, helped me flirt with the idea of coupledom by raising my self confidence and boosting my ego.

Prior to filing for the divorce, I had to forgive myself for failing at marriage again. Forgiveness of self is truly instrumental in the quest to finding love. Without it, we hold onto baggage and self deprecation, causing a delay in our growth and hindering our own mental health.

What did I discover in these single years? What magic elixir did I drink to come to this big life changing epiphany?

The answer, simply, was to discover who I was all over again. I needed to accept me, flaws and all, including my shadow side, with all the parts of me that I thought others did not like. First on the list: clumsy. Second: left-handed. Third: just plain misfit. Our destructive self talk is really powerful, and most of us don't realize what negative doom we are manifesting when we bash ourselves or undermine our own magic.

How could I expect to summon love into my life, if I was blaming myself for all that had happened in the past? Becoming my own worst enemy was not the recipe for healing a broken heart. No one can move onward and upwards if they're playing the blame game from yesterday. Dude, that is so, like, 2008.

Did I not realize that I was truly 1 in 7 billion? No other person alive has my DNA codes; the mold was broken when I came along. Realizing this made me suddenly jolt back to reality. Being this unique suddenly gave me an advantage I had never seen before.

Self love is so crucial. We cannot call love into our lives if we don't love ourselves FIRST.

Why is that? Because if you don't love yourself, you don't know what you want, need or deserve. Then you wander around, lost and clueless, searching for something you just can't seem to define. It's like having an invisible list of tasks or goals with no real aim. Get real about who you are and what you want. Things will soon fall into place.

Once you accept your darkness and light --in turn, embracing your essence-- all the lovely components that make up the masterpiece of YOU become crystal clear. Soon, you're living a charmed life that is robust, colorful and passionate. There is no regret, no second guessing, and you experience a FREEDOM that is so amazing. Breathe in the calm of having nothing to prove, and no one to prove it to. You will care less about what others think, too. The liberation is pure bliss.

It's a shame how people run from the beauty of who they were born to be. Stand in the mirror, look at the person staring back at you. What do you see? Let me remind you that being single doesn't mean you are worthless. Think of the benefits to being alone at this time. There's no one to answer to, no one to impress but yourself. You can put on that favorite song and crank it REALLY LOUD without offending that partner in the house.

Learn to romance yourself. Take a walk on the beach during sunset, sit on a vista and watch the city lights glittering in the distance, browse lovely thrift shops and find nostalgic items, spoil yourself with a new dress or outfit at a boutique, go to a movie that only YOU would love. Bonus point: you don't have to fret or argue with your date over which flick to see. No compromising here. Myself, I go to concerts in the city alone, or to karaoke --solo--if I can't find a friend who is free on a Thursday or Sunday night. Heck, I'll show up in my diva glory, belt out some Motown gem by Mary Wells or wow the crowd with a rockin' Shania tune. In my element, it's truly phenomenal. It feels like I'm home, and the joy bursting from my heart seems to light up the whole room. It doesn't matter if I show up to these places alone. Because I've learned to love my own company, there's always a new friend I meet along the way, and I'm pushed off my couch and out of the comfort zone. There's life out there! Go and see for yourself. Go ahead, grab these moments while you can.

Self love is a beautiful journey of the soul that begs us to truly look inside ourselves and find the jewel that is waiting to be awakened again, after so many years of a deep sleep. Divorce or heartbreak can really destroy our self esteem and make us feel broken down, ugly, or unloveable. Remember, though, that you are transitioning and moving forward, so take the time you need to heal those battle scars, but don't dwell too long there. You can become too comfortable in bitterville, letting the heartache seep into your soul, and rob you of the dazzling potential that is waiting to be discovered.

I truly hope that you will learn to fall in love with the majestic person you are. One in seven billion, baby. Now THAT is something to be proud of.

As always, keep the passion alive.

Cheering for you,

xx RR xx

Living Life With Orgasmic Joy

Most of us know the word "orgasmic" pertaining simply to sex, but in the business world, it takes on a whole new meaning.

As a novelist, I'll admit hearing this terminology outside the pages of a steamy romance is a little shocking. Especially when I spend my nights by candlelight creating such pulse-pounding intensity, filled with the goosebumps and shivers that come along with material that makes you go "MMMM."

What exactly am I getting at, you ask? Well, for starters, most people who live life on the "normal" cycle all the time, just go through the motions. They get up, make coffee, have breakfast, gas their car,  go to a job they may or may not like. Day in, day out, they repeat this mundane cycle, never fully connecting with the core of what it is that gives them their bread and butter. My guess is that they have no idea how to get pumped or excited for the life they've carved for themselves.

Orgasmic joy, I'll guess, is something most of the population doesn't experience when their feet hit the floor in the morning. How many of us bolt out of bed, feel a burst of energy from our spirit and yell out "OH YES!! YESSS!! at the thought of heading to work? I can almost bet good money that you're not mimicking Meg Ryan in that famous diner scene.

Go ahead, laugh a little. It's absurd, right? But let's be real. How bummed are you to head to work and feel that familiar dread creeping in your chest?

I can't remember when I felt ORGASMIC about a specific job I've held in my lifetime. There have been jobs I did enjoy, where the people were bearable, or pleasant. There's been places I worked where some co-workers shared laughs with me and great anecdotes. Others still, gave me gut-busting memories in the book of life. But, to be honest, I've yet to encounter a job that gave me the "BIG O."

That is, until February 2012,  when I sat down on a snowy winter night and crafted a romance novel called PASSION. For the first time, I realized just what it felt like to work in a spectrum that brought orgasmic feelings. Writing that love story was sheer joy. It was absolute ECSTASY. I'd finally found my ultimate bliss. What the heck took me so long? I was 35 years old, for crying out loud.

Let's flashback for a moment. At the tender age of 14, I discovered the power of prose and penned a young adult equestrian romance novel. That little manuscript gave me a feeling of pride that lasted momentarily. Til it sat in a dusty box for well over a decade. Years passed, 13 years of writer's block to be exact, and somehow in late 2011, I met a mentor who opened the portals for me, brought back my passion for noveling, and cured my writer's block (thanks KGM).

Nowhere else in the job industry have I come close to orgasmic joy in any field of work. Writing my passionate love stories of hope, healing and triumph really "does it for me," though. It gets the mercury rising, the pulse racing, the staccato beat of the heart going. In short, I feel ELATED when I sit down to write such thrilling stories. It truly is my niche.

That being said, it now begs to ask the question: Can others find their bliss doing what they love for a living? I would certainly like to think so. For everyone in this social network, I wish the same for you. I truly do.

How can we, in the meantime, bring about this heightened bliss for ourselves? Is it even possible?

Yes, it is!

The answer is simply this: find your passion and make a living at it. 

But -- you might ask -- what is it that makes you "passionate"?

Reminisce now to the days of childhood when you ran free, had an imagination like wildfire, could dream up any astronomical dream, and felt free as a bird, just living in the paradise of being a footloose kid. What did you want to be when you "grew up"? Was it a Neil Armstrong, a Bobby Orr, or perhaps a Steve Martin? Whatever it was that made you daydream and have visions of a happy future, revisit that. Trust me. That, right there, is your ORGASMIC JOY. You have the money shot, the golden ticket, the midas answer. When you find your authentic self and all that makes your dear little heart race madly, that is what you must dwell on. I'm telling you from firsthand experience. At seven, I just knew that I was the next Lucy Maud Montgomery or Danielle Steel. The glass slipper just fit.

I want to reinforce this thing called JOY. The "happy" chemicals that make you feel good -- serotonin, dopamine, oxytocin-- are the ones you experience during the joyful highs in your life. When you find work that makes you exultant, almost giddy to be alive, then surely, you know you've arrived at a place that is meant for you. Your supreme CALLING is the one that makes you tick.

So get out there and grab life by the big balloons. Set sail on a marvelous adventure. Find your passion, go hardcore, dream full force, make your mark and by all means, hit that "BIG O."

Life is waiting for you to scream out "YESSS, OHHH YESSS!"

--Rochelle Renee--