I’m writing this blog while sitting at the water’s edge of The Moors Campground beautiful Kentucky Lake.  I’ve been coming to this spot—literally, this exact same spot—for over fifty years.  Fifty-two years to be exact.

It’s changed a lot.

Where the retaining wall is now, we used to just walk out to the water from a little sandy beach.  There was no restaurant in those days, but there was a tiny store we would walk up to for popsicles and ice cream bars on hot summer days.  The four or five log cabins they rented out to tourists have been replaced by ten or twelve modern cabins … and a lodge with a swimming pool … and a small miniature golf course.

None of those things were here when my best friend and I used to hook up my small record player with a stack of 45s to the one electric outlet and dance and sing our way through the day on the sand.

When the Corps of Engineers dammed up the Tennessee River back in the 50s and formed the 150-mile-long body of water that is Kentucky Lake, I wasn’t yet born.  But they must have had me in mind.  This place has been my personal playground as far back as I can remember.  My family—my extended family including aunts, uncles, cousins—laid our claim to it.  A claim I still hold today, setting my Harlequin Superromance Taylor’s Grove series right here on these very shores.

It’s the place that has always held my heart … and always will.

What place holds your heart?