My name is Denise Sevier-Fries (nee Buchy). Parca is the Roman Goddess of Childbirth and Destiny and after you get to know me, you will see why I believe she has, without doubt, made me her Poster Child. Come here for some serious issues, but mainly just some cheeky fun; satire with the odd parody tossed in, and a generous helping of hyperbole, with a dollop of facetiousness.

I am Canadian so expect a bit of politeness too. Sorry.


2) MY eBook Trailers are on YOUTUBE
3) My website:denisesevierfries.com
4) My Photo-Art Youtube Trailer is here too.

Tuesday, December 18, 2012


CanadaWrites had a Twitter contest today, Dec 18th for a few hours and I caught the end of it...what a hoot!

The challenge was called Seusstivus and we were to ``to create and define a new Seussian word that best describes an element of your holiday experience.``

Two examples they used were as follows:

Twinkletanglucious: The way Christmas lights always come out of the box in a knot, no matter how carefully you put them away #CanadaWrites

Menorahmorph: The bizarre and wonderful shapes created by half-melted cheap menorah candles #CanadaWrites

SO...ignoring my plan of spending my day writing the next best seller, I wrote a couple Seussisms... then became COMPLETELY ADDICTED!

There are prizes, so wish me luck. Here are my entries:

Santasomnia: the inability to fall asleep Christmas Eve

faketreespreadaboriculture: spreading the branches of your fake Christmas tree to give it proper shape after being squished inside its box.

Fruitcakequitous: finding only boring gifts everywhere you look while last minute Christmas shopping

Throwthegamenopoly: games at Christmas where parents lose on purpose to see the joy on their child’s face.

Underwhelmedgivitis: the fake smile frozen on the face of someone who is pretending to like their Christmas gift.

Falalalalalalalalaryngitis: sore throat condition after singing too many Christmas carols.

Bluesprucespringsteen: listening to The Boss’s music while decorating the Christmas tree.

Boxingdaylateralepicondylitis: the inflamed elbow condition experienced fighting the crowds for the after-Christmas sales

Chestnutsroastingbyanopenfirehazzard:  when your husband stands too close to the fire after too much eggnog.

Felineornamentaldistress: the frustration of yet another Christmas tree ornament broken by the cat

Voldemortgage: The bank loan you must take out to take your kids to Harry Potter World for the holidays.

Mistletoethreesixtydegreeturnoff: the move you make when you find yourself heading for an unwanted  mistletoe encounter *Yes...I realize that it should be 180 not 360...but I was under pressure man! Give me a break! :)

Gunativity: the culture of putting guns before religion and children (*I actually left this one out. The Sandy Hook inspired tweet was hardly funny)

Canadposttraumaticstressdisorder: the condition of having suffered the LONG lineups at the post office before Christmas.

Showgirlsilverfantail: the long pieces of tinsel that hang from the cats bum, like a dancer from Vegas, after ingesting, but failing, to completely get rid of it. 

Twilightheadedness: headache incurred after a back-to-back, vampire saga marathon over the holidays

Gangnamstylepotroastsupper:  when your mother’s holiday roast tastes like horsemeat 

Bilbobagginskeddadlemania: the unexpected journey teens take when they hurriedly flee the table and escape doing the dishes after holiday meals.

Ladygagamaggot: how I felt when  a half formed chick came out of an egg I was using for our Christmas  morning omelets.

Fivegoldenlordoftherings: after seeing The Hobbit, the inability to avoid using LOTR references in any and all manners of speech or song during the holidays.

TheodorSeussGeiselObsessionitis: the inability to stop making up Suesstivusisms for Canada Writes!

Great way to stimulate the brain. Now to learn how to STOP thinking about it! aarrgghh!


Wednesday, September 12, 2012


The birth of a story.

One night while tucking my youngest child in bed, we went through our usual routine of bedtime stories, hugs, kisses, etc…and when I was leaving the room, she called to me and said, “Mama, I love you SO much!”

For fun, I replied, “How much is so much?” and she began to count off on her wee fingers,

“I love you 1, 2, 3, 4, 7, 9, 13, 11-teen!”

It was one of those flash-freeze moments that tattoo themselves permanently to your heart. I think every mother has a moment or ten like that for each of their kids held safe inside and it keeps us warm. I remember thinking to myself as I shut off her light and walked out the door, that if I had to write a test to get into Heaven, this would be one of the questions. Proof my life was well-lived and well-loved.

So the premise of my little book was born and I wrote it way back in 2003, and not knowing who would publish or buy a non-denominational story about Heaven, love and children, it has been gathering dust on a shelf ever since.

But now, with the advent of ebooks and Smashwords publishing, I have put it for sale online and hope it takes flight.

Here is the link and the descriptions…I hope you help to spread the word!

Short description

You will have to write a test to get into Heaven. Who knew? And you have to have a perfect score! What is the Key to writing this test? Tad Carson hadn't a clue. He didn't even know where he was or what to do. But God knew the answers. And Tad found out. So will you. This is a story of Faith, Love, and Heaven. It is a story for the whole family, about family. A small book with a big message.

Extended description

Tad Carson is a man who has discovered that he must write a test to enter into The Kingdom of Heaven…and he needs a perfect score! As unlikely as it seems, it is very easy to pass and he is not the only one who has to take it. Certain people will find it a joy to write, and others will find it a burden and a condemnation. Do you know the Key to Salvation? If you are a parent or guardian, you might be judged by a different standard than others.

Sometimes it is the little things in life that matter the most.

This man's Final Journey may be the one that helps you with yours.

Tuesday, August 28, 2012


I did it! I self-published one of my books and it is now buried deep within a pile of about 999,999,999,999 electronic novels.

I am so proud. How many people can boast that! Well…about 999999999998 authors, but you know what I mean. Here is the link:

I wrote a story about a woman who is looking for her birth mother and gets to know her anonymously through her online blog. It is a fictional character, but I made her my long lost daughter and I am the mother she gets to know through this very blog you’re reading now!

Here is the short description of my book as found on SMASHWORDS, the online e-book publisher:

What if the first time you met you mother was on her blog. Anna Maria Fortier is a woman who survived childhood at the hands of abusive adoptive parents. She finds her birth-mother online, writing a blog called Parca’s Chosen, which gives Anna a clear insight into the happy home she should have been a part of. As she recounts her own life she is bitter, but begins to heal. Is it too late for them?

The cover art (by my talented Fine Arts Graduate daughter Chaelan Sevier!)

The extended description:

Anna Maria Fortier had only one purpose in life while growing up. She was to obey her abusive parents implicitly. And she did. Until something happened that made her realize how perverted they really were.

She worked in their Salvation Army Thrift Store and rang the bell for donations from the day she was old enough to hold it by herself. The mean streets of Akron, Ohio were her playground and the only friends she was allowed were those who lived on them. It was hard to miss love and caring in your life when you’ve never had it, but the day Anna Maria found out she was adopted, she began to hope that there was a way out of her miserable existence. Maybe she was worth something after all.

Anna Maria escaped her foul life when she was16 and fought hard to made it on her own.

Twenty years later, she was ready to connect with her birth mother. A Canadian! But at the last minute, Anna Maria backed out and decided too much time had elapsed. What good would come of anything now? Best to let sleeping dogs lie.

However, her boyfriend Brennan had other ideas. He found her birth mother online, writing a blog called Parca’s Chosen, and Anna Maria found she was able to meet her mother after all…without having to actually meet her. She had brothers and sisters who talked to cats and a German stepdad who didn’t know the difference between buying and wearing women’s underwear! Reading about the crazy antics and happy, privileged lives of those she was a part of, but never really a part of, made her confused and uncertain.

Through Anna Maria’s in-depth recounting of her own life's experiences as she reads through the blog, we see the journeys (often comical and sometimes brutal and heartbreaking) of two women who were separated by circumstance, and who now have the chance to reunite through the world of the internet.

Maybe it really was time to meet this woman who she was getting to know on the sly. The more she read through the funny and oft time’s poignant blog posts, the more Anna Maria began to forgive her mother for abandoning her. But you would never know it by the nasty comments she left.

This had the potential for a happy ending. Or just an ending.


If I should get lucky and sell well, let me just say right here and now that NO! This is NOT a memoir or true story! I did not give up a child at age 16...it's pure fiction. The only reality in this book is my blog and it's posts. OK? Okay.

Happiness would be me having to defend this statement on Oprah or on TV. That would mean success!

SO…if you please, download a copy of my book (you can use an e-reader or just your computer) and enjoy! And pass along the word! It IS an adult book, so no under 17 readers please. The link again is :


I promise you I am not a deranged, twisted sick person…I just know a lot of them. 


Monday, July 2, 2012


Something happened recently that requires purging and sharing, so purge and share I shall do...

Most mornings, after dropping our daughter off at school, I drive to Point Holmes, our local car park/ocean walk/boat launch area which is a quick 2 minutes from the school. I just sit and relax for 10-15 minutes, watching the seagulls fly around, and boats putter about the lovely expanse of emerald waters of The Georgia Strait. It's a great way to fill the lungs with salty fresh air and expel the groggy demons of the night...and start the day right.

Point Holmes beach is quite long, stretching on for miles, and the parking or sitting areas spread along the shoreline give ample room for private moments, with a wide open berth conducive to not getting in anyone's face or invading their bubble, so to speak.

We ocean-ooglers and salt-air suckers like our space.

This particular day, it was a tad windy outside and I decided to find a good angle to park facing the ocean, stay in my little car and just roll down the window. The beach was completely dead and there wasn't a soul around, land or sea (which was very unusual), so I chose a perfect position and cut the motor. The rising sun was gorgeous but bright, so I lay my head back, closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to convince myself that the sharp tang of rotting fish and seaweed that sometimes rolled off the tide was actually quite ...um...'invigorating'. Like a nasal mud bath.

It was after a few solitary moments of peace that I heard the crunch of wheels on gravel. A vehicle was pulling in close to me on the passenger side, and parking. Ah well, I thought ...no harm done...there are always a few people out jogging, seeking calm or Tim Hortoning around this place. Out of curiosity, I cracked open an eye and lazily peeked over to see who else was sharing my prime view.

Imagine my initial surprise when I noticed that the car that had parked next to me had REALLY parked next to me. It was only two hand spans away. It was a wonder it hadn't scraped my door. I closed my eye and thought about that for a second. Then I opened both eyes and took a better look.

Now imagine my next surprise when I realized that the car next to me was orange, the same color as my wee Tigger (we always name our cars...makes them family) and not a common color on the roads around our little town. It looked to be close to the same make and model as well (ours is a KiaRio5), small, compact, new-ish and 4 door. It wasn't exactly the same, but very close. Hmmm...

I turned to look back at the water again, my mind humming with a 'this is so weird' sensation; but not quite an alert. I scanned the parking area and beach again and nope...nobody around. Just two small co-joined twin orange cars. How funny this would look to a passerby, I thought with a half-smile.

 Then my smile faded as my Spidey-senses started to tingle.

I was alone, on a lonely beach with a stranger parking up my ass in a copy-cat car. They had popped my bubble! Were they just sociable and needed to be 'near' someone? Did they think they had to park in some particular order? Had someone been following my habits and plan this to freak me out...or worse? The latter seemed crazy even to me. Who would buy a orange car just to play a joke or kidnap me? Neither option was profitable. My imagination was on over-drive and I needed to take it down a notch.

After half a minute, I decided to get a good look at the driver and see if the natives were hostile. A friendly wave or a kind smile would surely put me at ease and I could lay back and continue my daydream about wild jungle sex with Sean Bean (dressed as Boromir from Lord of The Rings, of course) which is how I usually like to start my day. I bent over and took a quick gander to the right, hoping I wouldn't embarrass him/her or myself by looking snoopy or psychotic.

The driver was alone, sitting ramrod straight in her seat and staring unblinkingly straight ahead at the ocean. She looked middle-aged and had short gray hair and wore a black top. I sat back quickly and swallowed hard.

I have short gray hair and was wearing my favorite black top. And I hate to admit it, but I too am considered middle aged. And I was aging quicker by the second!

Holy shit! That was beyond weird! My Spidey-senses were on full alert now and bells were ringing in my ears! I tried not to panic and thought to myself that coincidences happened all the time (and more often that not to me, especially, come to think of it) so best not to get so carried away. Maybe I should pop out and knock on her window and share the amazing coincidence of it all. It would make a good story for us both to share with friends!

But my heart started to thump and scream like a crowd at a bullfight and my 6th sense gave me a sharp bird-kick to the forehead: HELLO? Aren't you supposed to trust me? Same car; same hair; same clothes; same ocean.  POPPED BUBBLE!!!

I decided to check her out one more time and see if she made eye contact. It was just a woman in a car for God's sake. I was being ridiculously paranoid. I had been so careful making the initial peek look nonchalant and casual, I didn't remember many details, so I made a bargain with myself: if she looked friendly, I would be mature and stay put to enjoy the rest of my respite. If there was anything else 'Denise' about her, then bye-bye.

Nervously, I re-adjusted my gold rimmed glasses and turned to take a bold Kodak look at the woman next to me and lo and behold...the straw that broke the camel's back hit me straight in the face: she was wearing glasses. Were they gold-rimmed? My eyes froze in their sockets so I don't recall.

I don't know about you, but I don't need to be hit with a baseball bat  to take a hint. Heart firmly stuck in my throat, I smoothly turned to my ignition, switched it on, backed up gently and got the Hell out of there as fast as humanly possible without laying rubber or giving Tigger a heart attack. I checked my rear view mirror all the way home and sat in my driveway completely unhinged for about 10 minutes before I could get out and go in the house. What in all that is Holy was that all about? A coincidence bordering on insanity...like getting struck by lightning twice or buying winning million dollar lottery tickets 3 times in a row? (*or nobody discovering that Tori Spelling and Dennis Rodman are actually twins separated at birth?). Was there a Mother Ship hovering somewhere watching to see if their bait was going to catch any curious and STUPID humans? Makes one wonder...

Over-reaction? Perhaps. Immature? Maybe. Twilight Zone/Freaky Friday-like. Absolutely. What would YOU have done?

Personally, I'm just happy I didn't bespoil myself and ruin a good pair of pants. However, that might have convinced the aliens that I wasn't much of a catch after all and they'd have tossed me back....