Category Archives: Writing

A Pre-Christmas Facebook Party!

Hey all ! Want to have a little fun before the festivities, cooking, and unwrapping presents starts?  The Facebook group I LOVE ROMANCE BOOKS! is having a party tomorrow, starting at 9 am EST. There’s a great lineup of romance authors – MOI included! hee hee. Fun, games, a few giveaways ( I’m sure!) and lots of entertainment are promised to make this a funfunfun and festive day.

Here’s the schedule: (All times are EASTERN)
Lucinda Race 9:00 am
Carol Van Den Hende 9:30 AM
Anna Tayler Sweringen 10:00 AM
Jean C. Gordon 10:30 AM
Liz Flaherty 11:00 AM
Bonnie Edwards 11:30 AM
Ginny Frost 12:00 PM
JM Davies 12:30 PM
Susan Hanniford Crowley 1:00 PM
Meka James 1:30 PM
Roni Denholtz 2:00 PM
Darlene Deluca 2:30 PM
Jennifer Wilck 3:00 PM
Peggy Jaeger 3:30 PM
Kathryn Hills 4:00 PM
Ellen Mint/Sabrina Zbasnik 4:30 PM
Judy Kentrus 5:00 PM
Delancey Stewart / Kelly Greer PA 5:30 PM

So, plan your day accordingly and join us!!

Link: FACEBOOK

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A great #Booksweeps Contest…Medium & Steamy romances!

Today, I have a fun surprise to share with you…I’ve teamed up with 50+ fantastic authors to give away a huge collection of Medium & Steamy Romances to 2 lucky winners!

Oh, and did I mention the Grand Prize winner gets a BRAND NEW eReader? 😁

You can win my book, DIRTY DAMSELS, plus books from authors like Samantha Chase and Dani Collins.

Enter the giveaway by clicking here 👉bit.ly/SteamyRomance-Dec2020  after 10 am EST today when the link goes live!

Good luck and enjoy! Peg

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NN Light 2020 Book Awards finalists – a thruple for me!

Every year, one of my favorite promoters/reviewers/book lovers, N.N. Light ( a husband and wife dynamic duo!) rate the best books they’ve read and reviewed over the previous year and all the books that have received 5 stars are chosen as finalists. In 2020 – a year that saw little professional joy for me – I am honored to have 3 books nominated in various categories for their prestigious awards.

VANILLA WITH A TWIST is in the ROMANTIC COMEDY category

MISTLETOE, MOBSTERS, & MOZZARELLA is in theHOLIDAY ROMANCE category

And A  PRIDE OF BROTHERS: RICK is a finalist in the ROMANTIC SUSPENSE category.

This is an unbelievable honor!!

In 2019, DEARLY BELOVED was the winner in the ROMANTIC COMEDY category and cried happy tears for days!!

For a complete list of this year’s finalists, you can click on this link: NNLIGHTBOOKAWRDS2020

The winners will be announced next week and I am keeping various body parts crossed for another win! What a fabulous Christmas Present that would be!

Want to read any of the books? Here are the links:

VANILLA WITH A TWIST

A PRIDE OF BROTHERS: RICK

MISTLETOE, MOBSTERS, & MOZZARELLA

DEARLY BELOVED

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A visit with Wild Rose Press Author Glenda Thompson, author of BROKEN TOYS

I adore when my Wild Rose Press sistahs come for a visit and today I’m introducing a new one to you, GLENDA THOMPSON.

Glenda graciously sat down with me recently and answered all my nosy questions, plus gave me a sneak peek at her new book BROKEN TOYS which releases today!!

Here’s our interview…

Glenda, The Writer Questions

  1. What drives you to write?

The people who live in my head and tap on the inside of my eyeballs when I try to sleep drive me to write. It’s the only way to get them to go away. Each is so determined to have his or her story shared with the world.

  1. What genre(s) of Romance do you write, and why?

I’ve never written pure romance before. I write more suspense or thriller with a side of romance. Why? Too many years married to a Texas lawman. A majority of our conversations revolve around crimes, bad guys, and motives. My favorite word is why.

  1. What genre(s) of Romance do you read, and why?

I read every genre but do seem to be drawn to paranormal romances or historical romances. I love being swept away into someone else’s world so I can forget about mine for a tiny bit.

  1. What’s your writing schedule? Do you write everyday?

My writing schedule is chaotic at best. I do try to write every day but we have five children and eight grandchildren so Darlin’ and I spend a lot of time on the road running from one sporting or school event to another. I also have a full-time day job. I squeeze writing in wherever I can. I also record ideas on my phone and keep bath crayons in the shower. It never fails. As soon as I have a head full of shampoo, the perfect scene will pop into my head. With the bath crayons, I can scribble the ideas on the shower walls and after I finish my shower, grab my cell phone and take a photo of the walls to be transcribed a bit later.

  1. Give us a glimpse of the surroundings where you write. Separate room? In the kitchen? At the dining room table?

Darlin’ talked me into buying a small, pre-fab wooden building. Three-quarters of it is his knife shop. The other quarter is my writing cave. The interior walls are covered with whiteboard so I can scribble notes for quick reference on the wall. It also has two decent size windows so I can stare out at the mesquite brush and cactus when I need to think.

6.Are you the kind of writer who needs total quiet to compose, or are you able to filter out the typical sounds of the day and use your tunnel-vision?

Hello, mom of five kids *chuckle* I am good at tuning things out. Sometimes, Darlin’ has to tap me on the shoulder a few times to bring me back to the real world.

  1. Do you listen to music while you write, and if so, what kind? If not, why not?

It really depends on my mood. Sometimes I have music going. Other times, I don’t. I have eclectic tastes in music ranging from Texas/Red Dirt/Outlaw music to Scottish bagpipes, 80s hair bands, Native American flutes, Metallica, and yes, even Puddle of Mud.

  1. How did you come up with the plotline/idea for your current WIP?

Okay, this may be a bit macabre but… a friend of Darlin’s owns a crematorium. The friend gave us a hip replacement implant that no one claimed. Darlin’ was examining it and one end comes to this sharp point. I had just come home from having a tire replaced on my truck. When I saw the point, I told Darlin’ that could do a ton of damage to a tire. About the same time, two calls came across his radio from dispatch—one for a missing child, the other for a complaint about Travelers scamming the elderly with roofing and driveway repairs. It just kind of clicked in my brain and Broken Toys was born.

  1. Which comes first for you – character or plot? And why?

Definitely character. It all goes back to those people living in my head. On a more serious note, I am fascinated by psychology and my favorite word is why. I love diving deep inside people’s psyches… even my imaginary people.

  1. What 3 words describe you, the writer?

Oh, this is a hard question. Intense, reckless, emotional ( Peggy here: I love that description!)

Glenda, the Gal…

  1. Tell us one unusual thing about yourself – not related to writing!

I love to bottle raise exotic animals. They used to call me Mrs. Noah because any time anyone had an orphaned animal, they brought it to me to raise. Didn’t matter what kind… oryx, axis, whitetail deer, blackbuck antelope, pigs, goats, kittens… I love animals.

  1. Who was your first love and what age were you?

Now you are trying to get me in trouble. My first love was a bull rider named Travis. We went to high school together. I was probably seventeen or eighteen.

  1. If you could relive one day, which one would it be? Think GROUNDHOG DAY, the movie for this one – you’ll have to live it over and over and….

Probably November 11, 2018… it was the first time in forever that we had all the kids and grandkids together. We took family photos, played at the park and went to dinner to celebrate my birthday.

  1. What’s one thing you love about your significant other?

Finally, an easy question! His heart. I swear it’s bigger than the state of Texas. I’ve never met a kinder, more genuine, more real person in my life. He’s a true Sheepdog… a protector, a provider, and so very supportive. I never would have considered sharing my writing with the world if it hadn’t been for his encouragement.

5.What three words describe you, the person? Unique, Curious, Shy

6.If you could sing a song with Jimmy Fallon, what would it be? Nope, not going to happen. I can’t carry a tune in a bucket. The only time I sing is when I’m alone in my pickup truck racing down the back country roads.

7.If you could hang out with any literary character from any book penned at any time line, who would it by, why, and what would you do together?

Jo Marsh, from Little Women. I feel like we have a lot in common. Neither of us fit into a neat pigeonhole. We would write and put on plays.

Bonus round

I love the Actor’s Studio show on Bravo, so this is my version of it:

 

  • Favorite sound – children’s laughter
  • Least favorite sound – whining
  • Best song every written – You Shouldn’t Kiss Me Like That by Toby Keith or How Great Thou Art
  • Worst song ever written – Welcome To The Jungle by Guns and Roses
  • Favorite actor and actress – don’t have one
  • What turns you on? Kindness and Wrangler Butts ;p
  • What turns you off? Feet
  • Give me the worst 5 words ever heard on a first date ( here’s mine: “Is that your real hair?”) My wife just left me. ( Peggy here: OMG!!!)
  • What’s your version of a perfect day? A warm but not too hot day spent surrounded by family and friends preferably near living water
  • And now for a little glimpse at BROKEN TOYS…

    Blurb: Texas Ranger Noah Morgan has his life together—with a great job and the girl of his dreams. Too bad it’s all based on a lie. A single phone call threatens to bring it all crashing down. After an irate citizen complains shoddy workmanship has left him with a booby-trapped driveway, and the local sheriff’s office is too busy to respond, Noah takes the call. The investigation of local scam artists uncovers a human trafficking ring, Noah fights to avoid being swept back into the sights of his murderous family—people he escaped at the age of seventeen.Can he keep his past a secret or will his carefully crafted life come to a violent end?Tagline: “His life is perfect. Too bad it’s built on a lie.”“While we wait for the mobile crime scene lab to arrive from Austin, I need you to sign this consent-to-search form. Next, Ranger Trammell and I will photograph the scene to preserve it in situ—as it currently is.”“Now you wait one cotton-picking minute,” the old man growled. “How long will all that take? What if I don’t want to sign your verdammt form? I need my car. The old lady has several doctors’ appointments in San Antonio this afternoon.”

    Noah lifted his hat again and brushed sweat off his forehead before it rolled into his eyes. “Tell you what. Sign this piece of paper giving us permission to search your driveway, and as soon as we finish the photography, Ranger Trammell and I will change your tire. Then you can pull your car out of the driveway. If you don’t sign it, we will have to find a judge and get a warrant. Going the warrant route will delay things considerably.” Noah shrugged. “The choice is yours. Either way it goes, you won’t be able to pull back in for some time. We’re going to have to tape off your driveway and process it as a crime scene. Is there somewhere you could stay for a few days?”

    “Crime scene?” Mr. Schmidt crumpled as if he’d been kicked in the solar plexus. Bewilderment flooded his features. For the first time since the rangers arrived, the man looked old. “My driveway is a crime scene?”

    “I’m afraid so, sir,” Noah said, using the tone he reserved for scared kids, grieving family members and sagging old men who hadn’t tasted sweet tea in more than sixty years. “Hip implants, bits of bone and teeth are not normally used for road base. It looks like someone may have disposed of a body in your driveway.”

    Get your copy here:

    AmazonB&N  Kobo

     

A sixth-generation Texan with Scottish roots, Glenda Thompson can ‘bless your heart’ with the best of them. As a former emergency medical technician married to a south Texas Lawman, she’s used insider information from both their careers as inspiration to build her Broken world of Texas Rangers with hidden pasts and dark secrets.When she’s not busy embarrassing her children or grandchildren by dancing in the middle of a country road during a rainstorm, she can be found huddled in her writing cave with her law enforcement technical adviser/husband working on another story in her Broken universe.You can keep up with the future crazy cat lady’s hi-jinks at http://www.glendathompson.com or follow her on Twitter @PressRattler or Facebook @Glenda Thompson, Author.Social Media Links

Facebook * Twitter * Newsletter*website

 

 

 Glenda – thank you so much for being here today, introducing yourself to us and for giving us a little glimpse into BROKEN TOYS. Happy Release day!!! ~ peg 

 

 

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New today: RELEASING THE CATCH by Jeny Heckman

One of my favorite writers has a new book out TODAY!!! Award-Winning Author Jeny Heckman’s new book, RELEASING THE CATCH drops today and she graciously gave me a sneak peek at it…

Women. Crab fishing. The Bering Sea. Some men don’t think they belong together. One woman wants to prove them wrong.

Mack Carter’s life is circling the drain. When he hears about how lucrative the fishing industry is in Alaska, he decides to try his luck on the frigid Aleutian Chain. There he meets, Nels Pearson, who teaches the younger man how to be a crab fisherman on the deadly Bering Sea and becomes the friend and father-figure Mack’s never known. Carter must learn to navigate both the foreign world on the water and home life on land, finding a tenuous balance with both.

Through circumstances beyond her control, Faith Pearson is inserted into the dangerous life the men live in. To most fishermen in this high-velocity world, women onboard a crab boat is a bad omen. Faith finds life on the sea difficult to maneuver, not just the conditions but the men and superstitions she must also endure.

When tragedy strikes her life again, Faith strives to overcome great obstacles, and prove herself worthy mentally and physically, as she navigates self-discovery in a man’s bleak yet adventurous world. She also discovers lessons about love from a delicious new co-worker and just how deadly the Bering Sea can be when her own life is on the line, possibly never releasing her from the catch.

Releasing the Catch, is a story of fathers and daughters, letting go of the past, self-discovery, and overcoming odds made harder simply for your gender. It’s the story of two individuals at different times in an intertwined and extraordinary life, with so much to teach one another.

Excerpt:

“Oh no, I think we’re good here, thanks sweetheart,” Andy said, mistaking her for the waitress and darted a questioning gaze back at the men. “Unless anyone needs another round?”

Faith drew in a deep, irritated breath, lifted her chin and peered down her nose at Jake, who gazed back with a hesitant twitch at the corner of his mouth. Oh, yeah, he’s getting it. At least she’d give him marks for some intelligence.

Squaring her shoulders, she shifted her eyes back to Andy and stuck out a hand. “Actually, I’m Faith. Mack says you’re looking for a seasoned deckhand to help you through the winter, that, right?”

Confused, Andy’s stared first at her face, then her chest region, then at her outstretched hand. In complete bewilderment, he checked Mack’s face, then his brother’s.

Jake, long legs sprawled out in front of him, an elbow on the table, and hand supporting his chin, serpentined a slow, genuine smile across his face. He flicked his index finger up over his lips and used only his eyes to measure his brother’s reaction. Since the skipper didn’t appear to snap out of it any time soon, his younger brother outstretched his own hand, and shifted his gaze back up to Faith.

“That’s right. I’m Jakob Rassmussen, deck boss. You can call me Jake. This is my brother, Andy, he’s capt’n.” They shook hands and Jake returned his observation to Andy, whose face started to turn colors. A gurgle of laughter escaped from the younger man, before covering it up with a cough. Mack never stopped peering into his drink.

“Oh, for chrissake!” Faith said, disgusted, and all three men jerked their attention toward her, as if slapped. “My father,” she gestured at Mack. “Is an asshole. It’s not his fault, he was just born that way. He didn’t tell me about any of this,” -she waved a hand at them and the table- “Until I got here, a little over an hour ago.”

She flicked an accusatory glare at Mack, who had the excellent sense to stay quiet. “Look, I don’t have time for any of your good-ole-boy superstitious bullshit. I’ve lived on a crab boat since I was eight-years-old. I became a full share deckhand at sixteen, and I’ve worked as deck boss and as an engineer.” Her glare now fell on Jake, who stared back in fascination. “I just left my last job because it was time for a change, not because I couldn’t hack it. I work well on the hydraulics, stack, rail, bait, wherever the hell you want to put me. I’m a fast learner and I don’t expect to find your boat to be the space shuttle. Either you want me or not. I’ll be on the pier tomorrow at seven a.m., so you have the night to decide. Right now, I’m tired and I want to go to bed.”

She grabbed Jake’s drink, the closest and fullest, with three fingers of some strange, yet horrific alcohol, she discovered. She drained it in one large gulp, turned on her heel and left the bar. All three men stared in her wake, open-mouthed. Her stomach roiled by the time she got upstairs, and puked.

“What the hell was in that?” she asked the room at large. The idiot didn’t even have the sense to drink whiskey. She shuddered with disgust and lifted a hand to her mouth at the lingering taste of vomit and licorice, before sitting down next to the toilet, and flinging her arm across the closed lid. At least the first pissing match went to her. She reached up and grabbed her toothbrush off the counter, smiled for a few seconds, then put a hand back to her stomach as it roiled again, lifting the lid for another digestive pyrotechnic experience.

Get your copy here: Amazon

A little about Jeny…

Jeny Heckman is the award-winning author of the paranormal-romance series, Heaven & Earth. When she isn’t writing, you will find her boating with her husband, enjoying game night with her kids, cocktails with her friends, getting frustrated with photography or dreaming and plotting her next adventure. Jeny lives in Washington state with her husband of over twenty-eight years.

Website ~   Amazon Author Central~       FacebookTwitter:      Instagram:     Pinterest: GoodReads:

BookBub:    Newsletter:

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#ShopSmall All writers are small business owners…

There’s no better time to Shop Local and support Small businesses than during this pandemic. The times of going to big malls should be over until this scourge is eradicated. It’s so much easier to shop on line or in your own home town ( if you can). And I fully believe that every single writer is their own small business, because sales are important to a writer garnering new readers.

So, having said that, I invite you to visit my website store for print book gift items for the romance book lovers on your list- or for yourself. Every print book is priced way below even what Amazon can offer. WEBSITE STORE

And please, if you can, shop local stores – not only today – but all year round. This economy needs small business owners and people to support them.

Happy shopping, peeps. ~ Peg

Looking for me? Here I am:

Website: ~ Facebook~ Twitter~ Goodreads~ BookBub~ YouTube

~ Instagram~ Pinterest:~ LinkedIn ~ Amazon Author Page:~ Authors database~ Triberr

 

 

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An attitude of Gratitude

My two monthly extra blogs posts happen to converge on he same day today!

Come check them out.

First, on the ROMANCE GEMS I’m talking about post-thanksgiving gratitude.

Then, over on ROMANCING THE GENRES, about the Dickens Holiday anthology.

Thanks, as always, for your support.

Peg

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Happy Thanksgiving!

From my house to yours…the Happiest of Thanksgiving days.

It may not seem like we have much to be thankful for this year, but if you’ve got your health, your family, and your freedom, that’s a good start. There is always something to be grateful and thankful for in life….

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#TeaserThursday

I’m waiting on copy edits for my third book in the MATCH MADE IN HEAVEN series, BAKED WITH LOVE, but while I wait, here’s a little something from Maureen O’Dowd’s perspective….

Lucas nodded. “He seems pretty stoked about working, something I’m surprised about. Glad, for sure, but surprised. I figured…” He shrugged.

“I know. I thought a fifteen-year-old boy would rather be any place than in a kitchen every day, but he actually asked to work most days during the week and on weekends for the weddings. We’ll see how long this enthusiasm lasts.” I grinned up at him while I towel-dried a mug.

“I don’t know, Mo. If it was me, I wouldn’t mind being stuck in a kitchen every day—”

“That’s because you’re always hungry.”

“—if it was with you.”

My hand stopped rubbing the porcelain.

Okay, what?

I’m usually fairly adept at not showing my feelings or have what’s running through my mind cross my face. Nanny has commented many times over the years I’m the person she least likes playing poker with because she can’t read me. The ability to hide my true feelings has gotten me through some testy times with my parents, a bad breakup with a verbally abusive boyfriend, and my twin’s illness then death. Plus, for as many times as we’d been together over the years, Lucas had never once guessed how I truly felt about him.

Right now, though, I was finding it next to impossible to school my features and body into its usual calm nonchalance. I can only imagine how I must have appeared to him, standing there with the towel thrust into the mug, my hand paralyzed—my body as well—as I stared up at him, silent.

“What’s wrong?” He uncrossed his arms and took a step toward me, his brows grooving toward the middle of his forehead. “Maureen?”

I blinked a few times when his hand snaked around my upper arm. A soothing, comforting warmth seeped through me from his touch. I wanted to move in closer, melt into his arms, and snuggle into all his heat. When I found myself shifting so I could, I took a step backward, mentally and physically. Lucas didn’t drop his hold but kept his hand on my arm, his other one following suit.

“Nothing. Sorry. I’m fine.” I shook my head a few times and planted what I hoped looked like a self-deprecating grin on my face.

“I lost you there for a second.” His gaze swept across my face, searching, silently questioning.

“Sorry. I’ve got a lot going on up here.” I pointed a finger at my head. “Thinking fifteen steps ahead about what needs to be done around this place.”

He waited a beat, those intelligent, intense eyes never wavering from my own. “Why don’t I believe that’s all it is?”

It was no wonder he was such a good lawman. With his gaze zeroed in on me, piercing and probing, and his voice low, deep, and commanding, almost seductively sly in its cadence, I imagined people who’d broken the law were no match for him when it came to his garnering confessions.

I pulled a Colleen-worthy eye roll. “Because you’re a cop and you’re naturally suspicious. It’s ground into your DNA. Like the green in your eyes.”

One eyebrow quirked high up on his forehead. “The green in my eyes?”

His mouth stayed perfectly straight, but I got the distinct impression he was laughing at me.

“It’s true. Your eyes are green, and you’re naturally nosy.”

His inspection grew more intense as he dipped his chin and glared at me. The heat in his stare shot straight down to my core and exploded. I’m pretty sure I shuddered.

Lucas’s fingers kneaded my arms. Every nerve ending in my body stood straight up, like I’d walked across a rug in the dead of winter and then touched something metal, sparking an electric shock. I licked lips that had suddenly gone desert-dry.

His gaze took a slow stroll down to my mouth and lingered. Enough so those butterflies finally made a break for freedom. Without any will to prevent it, my mouth fell open and I dragged in about a quart of air, my shoulders lifting, then dropping with the effort. I lost the grip on the mug and when it slipped out of my hand, Lucas let go of my arms as we both reached for it at the same time.

My reflexes are quick. Lucas’s are like lightning.

Both our hands went around the cup at the same time, but in moving for it, Lucas had to bend from his substantial height. When he did, our heads connected and a resounding thwack echoed around us.

Ow.” I let the mug go free into his hand and palmed the spot of contact on my forehead. “Your skull’s made of cement.”

Lucas placed the mug on the counter, then tugged my hand off my head.

I swatted him away. It was like slicing air because it had no effect on halting him from touching me.

“Let me see. Stop squirming.” He cupped my chin to hold me in place.

In all honesty, I’d gone statue-still again the moment his hand curled around my jaw. I knew Lucas’s fingers were strong, an effect of being a life-long shooter. Thick-skinned, coarse, and powerful, his grip was surprising gentle though, as he held my face in one hand and pressed against the throbbing notch on my forehead with the other.

“You’re gonna have a goose egg.”

“And whose fault is that?” I mumbled.

“Better get some ice on it, fast.”

This time when I glanced up at him, he was attempting—and failing—to hide a grin.

Through narrowed eyes, I said, “Thanks for the advice. Mind letting go of me so I can?”

Lucas glanced at the hand wrapped around my chin, frowned, then drew his attention back up to meet my eyes.

Calling them green hadn’t done them a bit of justice. There are so many variations of the simple color, and none of them applied to Lucas.

They weren’t the bright green of a shamrock or the metallic sheen of jade. Neither were they pale like sage nor brilliant like winking emeralds. The purest and most accurate way to describe them was they mimicked the color of fresh moss at midnight: deep and dark with shards of yellow in the mix reflected in moonlight. Long lashed with a tiny tilt at the corners and subtle lines fanning out to his temples, Lucas’s eyes had always been captivating to me. Right now, with his hand holding my chin, and his body so close I could detect the brand of soap he’d used in the shower, they were mesmerizing.

The air between us changed in a finger snap. Energized. Ignited.

Something in Lucas changed, as well. His shoulders were drawn up almost to his ears, and his breathing went a little deeper, a little louder as we stood there. The groove between his eyebrows folded inward even more than it usually did. When his tongue flicked out and crossed over his bottom lip like mine had a few moments ago, I bit down on the need to press my own mouth to his.

I may have moaned.

The swift inhale Lucas took convinced me he’d heard the sound and recognized it for the naked desire it was. The hand at my chin tensed and drew me in closer. So close, I could count every hair of the afternoon stubble shading his etched cheeks and strong jaw.

An insane urge to run my tongue along the length of that shadow hopscotched through me. I might have succumbed to the impulse if Robert’s voice hadn’t spilt into the room.

“Dad?”

We both blinked at the sound.

“What’s going on?”

“Maureen dropped a cup,” Lucas told him after a moment, his attention never wavering from me. His voice was thick and low. “We bumped heads when we went to get it. Grab some ice from the freezer, would ya, son?”

“There’s a cold pack in there,” I said, stepping back when Lucas finally freed his hold on me.

He stood, immobile and silent, in front of me while his son set about his task.

I’d give anything to know what he was thinking, but his expression had gone back to its usual relaxed one. His body, though, remained stiff and tense.

Robert handed me the cold pack and said, “Here.” When he glanced at my forehead, he added, “Ouch. Dad, you hurt her.”

“It’s nothing,” I said, wrapping the pack in the dishtowel I still held in one hand. I placed it against the throbbing ache I now felt on my head and winced. “Okay, ouch is right. But it was an accident, Bobby-Boy.”

I wanted to alleviate the troubled expression on his face, so I added, lifting my lips in what I hope was a comical smirk, “Your father’s got a head like a rock. No surprise, there.”

My quip hit its intended mark as both of the men in my kitchen grinned. Lucas’s shoulders finally relaxed, and the ghost of a sigh slid from him.

They left shortly thereafter with Lucas promising to have his son to work on time in the morning.

Intrigued? I’ll put up release dates and a cover when I have them. Until then, be well, peeps.

and look for me here: Follow me

 

 

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A new addition to our family…meet Maple Leaf

If you follow this blog you know that there have been some serious highs and lows in my life and that of my family’s lately. A wedding, a death, not to mention the continued pandemic running our lives and lifestyles.

Well, since we are already stressed out, my husband and I figured, why not add to that stress.

No, seriously, we didn’t say that!!!! Hahah. But the end result could be construed as stress producing.

Let me ‘esplain.

Last Thursday we adopted an-almost 8 week old puppy and brought her into our home and hearts.

Yeah, I know….puppy = stress, squared! heehee

It’s been a longlonglonglong time since we had a dog, much less a puppy in the house. We got our first dog-baby, a black Lab named Ella, in 1987. She passed in 1999. So 21 years since a dog roamed our house and 33 since we had a pup.

But….

Meet Maple Leaf Jaeger

12 pounds of pure puppy love, joy, and rambunctious energy!

She’s a chocolate Lab and loves to run around in the yard, carry sticks in her mouth, and play with empty plastic bottles.

Oh, and chew. Everything!!!!

She already has our hearts in her paws.

Our daughter named her Maple because she is a New Hampshire dog, born and bred and we wanted to keep her name native to the region. I added the middle name of Leaf, which I have to admit, my family thinks is dumb!!! But since I rule the roost, it’s staying.

With this new media-obsessed world we inhabit, Maple even has her own Instagram page. You can follow her daily antics here 

I know: I’m a little obsessed! Heehee.

But look at this face:

and tell me you wouldn’t be as well!!!

Heehee.

Until next time, peeps. Follow Maple Leaf on instagram and me, here: Follow me

 

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