I was thinking yesterday of all the things I didn’t know about her that I wish I did.
How old was she when she got her first kiss? Who was the boy?
Who were her friends when she was a kid? Did she even have any, because she never spoke of anyone?
Did she like school?
Was she upset when she had to drop out of high school to help support her sick mom and my younger aunt? Resentful?
Why did her mother dislike her so much – this one I realize I should have asked my evil grandmother when she was alive, but I stopped speaking to her after I got married.
What was her favorite book when she was a kid? An adult? Did she even have one? Did she even like to read?
Why did she stop singing?
How disappointed was she when she was excommunicated?
Why did she marry my stepfather and why didn’t she leave him when things got really bad between them?
Was it hard changing jobs so often in her 50s? Going from the banking world to cleaning snooty people’s houses? Then caring for them when they got ill?
Where did she get her strong sense of self-worth from?
Why did she never vote?
What had she wanted to be when she grew up? Did she ever think college was for her?
What was her biggest fear? Regret? Desire?
Why did she continue to love her faith when the powers that be stripped her of practicing it?
Why did she like vanilla over chocolate? Okay, this one really bothers me because why does anyone like vanilla over chocolate??
The shock is fading…the pain, ebbing. But the sense of loss is still so, so great. I can’t imagine it will ever not be.
Episode 21 of MAGIC’S CHARM dropped this morning over on Amazon Kindle vella. Are you all caught with Rhys and Siobhan’s story? Here’ the link – and remember you can read the first three episodes for FREE to decide of you like the story. And if you do, please consider giving it a thumbs up or weekly favorite.
Next, if you don’t follow me on instagram or facebook you might not know this, but I’ve got a PREORDER CONTEST going on for SABLE ( ALWAYS A BRIDESMAID) The details are below in the graphic,but the gist is this: if you preorder the book and then put up a screenshot of the preorder and provide me with your email address, I’ll put your name in an invisible hat and once the book releases, I’ll be drawing 5 names to each win a $10.00 Amazon gift card. Sound good? A chance to will 4 times the cost of the book just for preordering?? YOWZA! I’d take advantage of that deal!!
Today kicks of the ALWAYS A BRIDESMAID series and with it, a brand new PERPETUAL FB PARTY. You have to join the Facebook party page here: AABFB to participate.
Every Monday and Wednesday from now until May 27, a new book in the series will be released. Readers are invited to participate in the author 0f the day’s post. Once all the books are out in the romance reading world, a grandprize winner of a Kindle or a $70.00 Amazon GC will be awarded. The authors may be giving away prizes too on their respective days!
Another day, another invitation to serve as Maid of Honor at one of her sorority sisters’ weddings. Who knew she had so many friends chomping at the bit to get married?
Professor Jenna Richardson is half-tempted to apply for a teaching position all the way across the country in an effort to get out of the bridesmaid spin cycle. The only things holding her back are the fact she slid haphazardly across the big 3-0 on her last birthday, and certain tenure is only months away.
Oh… and then there’s him. Elliott Maxwell, this year’s Writer-in-Residence. New York Times bestselling author, screenwriter, major pain in the rump who has all the department’s admins running around catering to his every whim.
Still, Jenna finds herself more than a little intrigued.
Elliott took this gig as Writer-in-Residence to—hopefully—jumpstart his creative mojo. The adage, ‘you’re only as good as your last’ is weighing heavily on his mind, and interrupting his muse. That, and the saucy, sexy English Professor in the office next door. She gets his ‘other’ mojo going with little more than a casual toss of her long, blonde hair. Or, the way she does her best to hide her beautiful smile.
Will their close proximity write them both a new chapter? Or, is their fledgling friendship destined for the bargain bin?
And don’t forget, my addition SABLE, is up for pre-order right now!
Sable’s a pediatrician and is sick and tired of being a bridesmaid in all her friends and family’s weddings. She’s determined that the next big wedding function she attends will be her own. Figuring out how to do that is a problem….
In this snippet, she’s trying to fend off the good intentions of her cousin’s matchmaking desires.
You can’t pick your family. ~ Sable Miller
Lord, please grant me the patience of Job.
Sable took another steadying breath – the sixth in as many minutes – and graced her oldest cousin with what she hoped was a normal smile and not an annoyed one.
“So I just knew he’d be perfect for you,” Moira said as she cut her pancakes into tiny bites, as if she were preparing it for a child.
“Moira—”
“The fact he’s never been married is a plus, don’t you think? No bad habits from the first wife to contend with. No kids to worry about sharing weekends with. Of course, I know your first question is going to be why isn’t he married if he’s so great. But thirty-six isn’t old by anyone’s standards anymore. He’s been building his business, devoting all his time to that. And it’s a success. Really. And now he’s ready for the next chapter in his life, and when he asked me if I knew any women looking to settle down, your name jumped right into my head.”
Of course it did.
“So I invited him to dinner this Saturday. You’ll be done with night rotation by then, right?”
Sable sighed and shoved her plate of barely-eaten eggs away from her. She hadn’t been hungry to begin with, but Moira had beat her to the diner and ordered for them both.
She wanted –desperately wanted – to lie and tell Moira she was still going to be working on Saturday night. But it was an easily verified fact and she knew Moira had it in her to call the hospital and find out if she was scheduled or not. She wondered if she already had and her question was merely an affirmation. Besides, Sable knew she was a terrible liar.
“I’ll be done, but Moira I –”
“Great. I told him seven, but you can always come early. In fact, why don’t you? I’ll do your hair and makeup so, you know? You’ll be more appealing. Not that you don’t do a decent job when you take the time, but you never wear makeup when you’re working, and I’d think you’d want to look, you know? Alluring.”
Alluring? This was too much.
“I’m not working Saturday night, Moira, but I already have plans. Plans I can’t, and don’t want to, break.”
Moira’s eyes narrowed. “What kind of plans?”
And this is why she didn’t lie. Thinking quickly, she said, “I’m having dinner with an…old friend.”
“Who?”
“A guy I knew in high school.” Stick with the truth as much as possible, she thought, because Moira was known for her grilling tactics. “I tutored him, in fact, in chemistry. You wouldn’t know him since you were years and years ahead of me.”
Okay, that was a little petty, but it felt good to see Moira’s back go up a tad. She never liked being reminded of her age.
“He’s recently begun working at the hospital and we decided to have dinner so I can clue him in to the workplace politics and such.”
Moira’s mouth stood open, a half-chewed slab of pancake sitting front and center, as she gaped across the table at her cousin.
“Is he good-looking?” she asked after finally swallowing.
“Very.”
“Give me his stats. Name. Age. Ever married? Kids? The aunts will want to know.”
Sable shook her head. “I’m not going to do that, Moira. It’s just a simple dinner. I don’t need you all Googling him and—”
“So he’s Googlable? That’s interesting. Is he a celebrity or something?”
Patience, Lord, pretty please?
If you’re interested in reading it before it’s officially released, and you’re a Booksprout subscriber, here’s the link to read and review: BOOKSPROUT
I’ve put up a few copies of SABLE over on Booksprout for those of you who read through that site. The cutoff date is 4.30 and the reviews have to be back by or on the release day of May 17.
ALWAYS BEING A BRIDESMAID IS GETTING OLD…
Pediatrician Sable Miller is sick and tired of being the go-to, dependable bridesmaid in all her family and friends’ weddings. But her demanding job, the ridiculous hours, and endless family commitments keep her from finding the perfect man. A matchmaking service? Sounds like too much work. Swipe right dating? Not her thing. The bar scene? When was the last time she even had an evening free to go to a bar?
And forget about dating the myriad of on-the-make doctors and residents in her hospital. Besides, workplace romances never work out.
Sable’s options to meet the man of her dreams and start a family are dwindling and time is running out, because she promised herself the next wedding she would attend would be her own.
Kristopher Lee, the Physician’s Assistant assigned to Sable has a crush on his new mentor. But she’s got a hands-off rule when it comes to dating someone she works with. Kris is nothing if not persistent, though. After all, he didn’t survive three tours in the Army without focusing on a goal. And making Sable Miller fall in love with him is his best goal yet.
EXCERPT:
Of all the gin joints in all the world, he walks into mine. ~Sable Miller
What were the odds?
Of all the men to walk into the department it had to be the guy she’d crushed on all through high school and even into college. The one she’d snuck love-panged peeks at over her books during the classes they shared; the one she’d sat watching from the school’s stadium for, and cheered on, during games even though she hated football and didn’t understand it; the one whose girlfriend, Brittany, mocked and jeered her about her supposedly secret crush in gym class, calling her pathetic and stating no guy like him would ever be interested in a boring, bookworm of a girl like her.
The one guy she knew she subconsciously used as a yardstick to measure all other guys with.
Kristopher Lee. That guy.
As she unlocked her front door and tossed her purse on the foyer table, slipped out of her sneakers and jacket and left them lying on the floor where they landed, Sable groaned.
Of all the gin joints in all the world, she murmured, reciting a line from one of her all-time favorite movies.
Sable shook her head and sighed.
Kristopher Lee. Star athlete. Senior Council President. Voted best looking and most popular. Football quarterback. Army vet.
And now Physician’s Assistant.
He’d said it was a twisted path he’d taken to get where he was today. Natural nosiness had her wondering about that path. She could have asked. He’d wanted to talk with her, she could sense that. But if she asked him about his life, he’d want a quid pro quo about hers.
Never married. No kids. No long-term relationships. All I do is work. All I have is my job.
Brittany had labeled her pathetic in high school.
“Still fits,” she mumbled as she fell, fully clothed, into bed.
At the end of the shift, he’d caught up with her as she was about to hail a cab for home.
“I’m starving,” he said. “Want to grab a quick breakfast somewhere and catch up?”
I’d rather have a root canal.
Good manners kept her from saying it aloud. Instead, she told him she was always exhausted the first night of her rotation and needed to crash or she’d be useless for the next shift.
“No worries,” he’d said. “Rain check?”
“Sure,” she said, absentmindedly, as a cab stopped in front of her. Kris opened the door, and she slid across the back seat and gave him a murmured, “thanks.”
“See you tonight,” he said, before closing her in. “Have a good sleep.”
As he stood on the curb looking as if he hadn’t just spent the past twelve hours running ragged, and with an open, easy, non-tired smile on his face for her, Sable couldn’t help but give him one in return.
With exhaustion pulling at every fiber in her body, the last image she had before all went black was of his smile.
Today marks two weeks since my mother passed away.
I’m still in the shock phase, to be honest.
How could I see her one day, and she be laughing, joking, and wishing everyone well, and the next, within twelve hours after being admitted to the hospital, be dead?
Right now that’s too much to think about, so I’m putting it someplace else. I will get back to it…someday. But not today.
Today I am remembering all the times she made me crazy in the ways only a mother can.
For instance, my mother was like that proverbial dog with a bone when a thought came into her head. The example I think about was when she’d call me in college and tell me to make sure I locked my dorm room door before heading out to class. She was always worried about people sneaking into my room to harm me. I could never understand why she thought this because I lived in a protected dorm. You had to sign in and sign out and approve all visitors. But she’d say it to me two or three times with every call and it made me nuts.
When I was in my forties I learned why.
My mother had been left alone one day when she was about eight or nine. My grandmother was out with my younger aunt and my older aunt wasn’t home. Someone knocked on the door – a neighbor man they all knew. Since he was well known to her, she let him in. I don’t really have to go into detail about what happened, do I? Suffice it to say, while she wasn’t raped, she was molested…something that gave her the greatest of shame in her young life and that she carried with her the rest of her life.
Knowing this explained her behavior, and I feel deep shame that I let her persistent worry bother me so much. She had a good reason to be worried – in her mind, at least.
Another thing she always did that drove me insane was ask a question of me and then immediately answer it. For instance, “How are you doing today? I bet you’re good.” Like that. Then she’d immediately go off on a ten-minute diatribe about the weather or any other topic she’d called me about. Drove me to distraction because you could never get a word in. One day a few months ago my daughter pointed out that I was getting like grandma. I asked how? And she said you just asked me a question and then answered it. We laughed about it, but in reality I was a little flustered.
Again, knowing why she did this explained so much to me. My stepfather is not and has never been what you’d call a talkative man. He is deeply quiet to the point you think he is mute if you don’t know him. Underlying depression had always been my diagnosis, but what do I know? I’m not a shrink. My mother was the alpha in the relationship. She would ask him questions or try to engage him in conversation, but most of the time he gave non-verbal answers. When I lived at home I didn’t notice this as much because she had me to talk to – or talk at, as the case is. But once they were empty nesters, his silence became obvious so it was up to my mother to keep the conversation going.
One of the nurses in the nursing home said she was a chatty Cathy. Well, here’s the reason why.
Today, I’m thinking of all the times I was short with my mother, lost my temper, or said things I really should have thought about before speaking. Guilt doesn’t come close to what I’m feeling right now.
I could have been such a better daughter. I could have listened more; not judged; been more tolerant.
I could have been…nicer.
I could have been…more loving.
Even saying all this I know my mother loved me above all else. She told me every single time she spoke with me.
Every. Single. Time.
One last thing that used to drive me cray-cray was that she never said Goodbye. At the end of every phone call or personal visit, she would say, “My love to you all.” I don’t know why it bothered me, but it did, so one day, about a year ago, I asked her why she always ended a conversation with me like that.
Her answer was, again, very enlightening.
My grandfather died, suddenly, of a heart attack when my mother was 9. He went off to work after kissing his girls goodbye and saying “goodbye” and then never came back home. Doesn’t take a genius or a psychiatrist to understand why the word was one she couldn’t bear to use.
There’s still so much about my mother and her life and her thoughts I don’t know. I’ll never get the answers now… I’m putting that one away someplace, too. It truly is too much to bear right now…
Peggy Jaeger, Author 