It’s just a matter of days now! If you’re in driving distance to Hershey, PA, I hope we’ll see you this Saturday, October 7, 2023! There are so many authors, so many different genres, and it’s going to be so much fun! Look at all those romance authors on the list. This is my first year at this signing, and I’m really excited about the opportunity. I’ll be sending a quick newsletter during the week as a last reminder, too.
I set up my writing goals for the month, but now I’ve already checked one big thing of the list, so I might have to revisit that list and add something else to it. We’ll see.
Before I go back to writing goals, though, and booksigning prep, I have a quick snippet for you this week from Light the Way Home.
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Lucie had been on Mac’s Light Island for almost three weeks, but the view from the back door of her temporary home still took her breath away. Right now, she realized she’d been standing there staring, slack-jawed, at the sunlight glinting off the grey-blue ocean waves for a good five minutes. Shaking her head, she pulled the door shut and stepped down onto the sidewalk, feeling in her purse for her car keys.
She closed her fingers on the fob as a giggle reached her ears. She turned to the white picket fence that bordered the property next door as a big multi-colored ball sailed over it, toward her. “Oh!” She caught it before it hit her in the face, then started across the grass, balancing the ball on her hand.
Another giggle sounded as she neared the fence, so she adjusted her direction a tiny bit and came to a stop looking directly down onto a tousled blond head.
“I think you lost something,” she said.
The little boy’s face tipped up quickly, his blue eyes wide with surprise–as if he couldn’t believe she’d found him already.
Lucie grinned and held the ball higher.
He smiled as he got to his feet, brushing off his jeans-clad knees.
From seeing him playing outside several times already, she’d guessed he might be four, but now at close range, she scaled that back to three.
“Hi, I’m Hayden,” he said, holding out his right hand.
It was her turn to be surprised. She shook his hand, bemused. “Hi, Hayden, I’m Lucie.” Not too many three-year-olds had such good manners. Aside from the ball toss at her face, that is. “Nice to meet you.”
He glanced up at his ball. “Me an’ my dad are your neighbors.”
“I see that.” She noted he hadn’t mentioned his mom. “Who were you playing with?” She gave the ball a little bounce.
“Maybe you wanna play with me.” Guileless blue eyes locked on her face.
Ah. She squelched the pang in her chest. “I wish I could, but I’m on my way to town. Maybe we can play another time?” she added when his grin vanished.
“Like this afternoon?”
“Hayden!”
The deep voice got her attention–and the boy’s–just before a tall, sandy-haired man rounded the back corner of the next-door house.
Lucie’s mouth went dry. Wowza!
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We had a birthday dinner today for hubs and oldest son, whose birthdays are a week apart, so it was a good way to round out a productive weekend and start the new week. Plus…cake! Actually, that’s a really good way to start the new month, I think…family, good food, checking off to-do lists. It bodes well for the rest of the month, and if that’s the case, the big thing I checked off the list today will mean big news to share before the month is over. Yay!
So how was the start of the month for you so far? Off to a good start? I’d love to hear.
And I’d really love to see lots of you at the Hershey Public Library this weekend! So would all of the other attending authors!
I’m pretty sure I just got done setting my September goals, and now I need to think about October. But for today, I don’t care. Yesterday was the first day of fall, and it’s been gorgeous here the past week. Rainy today and yesterday, but I don’t care about that either, because we need the rain, and the temps are perfect. It actually feels so much like fall that I fired up the oven yesterday to make mac and cheese, and today the bread machine and soup pot are getting their first work-out of the season. So I’ll work on those goals, but not right this minute. Today is for taking a break. I did the absolutely necessary weekend chores yesterday, like laundry so we don’t run out of clean clothes in a couple days, but other than the cooking/baking today, I’m taking it easy. Part of that is I got a shot yesterday that’s made me feel a little bit icky, and part of it is I hardly ever do that on the weekends, actually taking a break, and sometimes you need to do that. Last week was busy, between work and fun, and this week will be, too–our local minor league baseball team swept the playoff series and now will start the championship series at home for two more games, so we’ll be there cheering them on again.
After six years of successfully avoiding Ryder in person, it seemed she’d finally have to deal with him.
She shivered, and this time, it wasn’t from the cold, but from the mingled fear and adrenaline racing through her veins. Sheathing her dagger, she smoothed her skirt back down and returned to the kitchen, pushing thoughts of the bossy, sexy father of her nephew out of her head.
The beef was browning, and she dragged the spatula through it to loosen it from the bottom of the pan, before she dropped in chopped peppers and tomato sauce.
She hadn’t seen Jason or her mother in three long days, and she hadn’t imagined their reunion might occur like this.
She rubbed one hand over her forehead, trying to banish the mental image of Ryder, naked and aroused.
By what? she suddenly wondered. The thrill of the fight?
She supposed it was likely. She knew he was something of an adrenaline junkie. After all, his stint in the military had been rounded out by some secret missions he still couldn’t talk about, and she’d heard several stories from Jason about his dad jumping out of airplanes. Ryder had followed that up with some other secret intelligence agency job for a few years.
The only other possibility was that the arousal was because of her.
She laughed. Yeah, right. She knew she was reasonably attractive, but men didn’t fall to their knees at their first sight of her. Not even men who had flirted via email and over the phone as frequently as they were in contact. Actually, never, even when she’d dated with actual hope of finding ‘The One’. Or, um, leap to attention that way. Certainly not men who knew the sort of monster she truly was.
She swallowed hard, but her mind didn’t want to cooperate with her, making her senses all go haywire and sending heat into her belly. And he had kissed her.
A tap at the back door made her jump and drop the spatula into the meat and sauce.
Ryder stood outside, gun still in his hand, his face somber, though something sparked in his eyes when she got to the door and turned off the alarm. “Gone, but I know where to find him later,” he said shortly as he came inside.
She stepped away, desperate for something to distract her from his naked chest. The spatula. She fished it out of the bubbling pan and rinsed it at the sink. “You should have let us know you were coming.” It came out sharper than she intended.
He laughed as he leaned over the stove to inhale. “So you could keep avoiding me, Mena?”
She didn’t look at him right away, but her pulse tripled its pace. Of course he knew she’d been avoiding him all these years. The man wasn’t an idiot. “In case we had other plans,” she said instead, remaining at the sink instead of returning to the stove to stir their meal.
“As it happens, I spoke to Aggie this morning.” He grinned. “She knew I was coming.”
Philomena bit her lip and looked away for a second.
“What’s wrong, Mena?” He moved nearer. “Are you angry I didn’t give you another chance to hide, or are you still turned on?”
Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. “I was not.”
He touched her chin. “Liar.” His gaze flicked to the front of her sweater. “You are.”
She blushed furiously, aware of the way her nipples had tightened under her sweater again. Dammit. “Cold.”
He slid his thumb along her lower lip, his smile fading. “You don’t need to be embarrassed about it, Mena. The feelings are reciprocated,” he said softly. “You know that.”
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Even though I’m ‘taking the weekend off’ mostly, I am still counting down to the booksigning in two weeks! If you’re anywhere near Hershey, PA on Saturday, October 7, 2023, I hope you’ll come see us there. Fifty-plus authors in tons of genres (including a whole bunch of romance authors) with books available to buy. I can’t wait!
Before I go, I’m wondering if it feels like fall yet where you are, too? And did you take the weekend off from all but absolutely necessary chores? I’d love to hear!
The horrid heat we’d been having here finally went away. The past few days have just been gorgeous, nice day-time temps, cool overnight. We’ve had the a/c off and all the windows open, which has made the cat really happy, too. We even had a bit of rain today and it was cool enough that I felt okay about turning on the oven to throw together a dump cake and then put dinner in, too.
I have a big stack of pages on my desk in front of me right now: the third Medusa’s story. My red pen is probably going to get a little workout on this, and again soon on the short contemporary series my friend has been reading for me. I really appreciate her doing that for me, it’s been ages since my critique group came to an end.
This week, though, I have more on my writing to-do list than edits: the Hershey Library’s Chocolate Town Book Festival is just under three weeks away, and I am working on prep for that.
The library has more info on their website, including directions to find us, and I will continue to add more info on my Facebook page. There will be more than 50 authors there, covering all sorts of genres, from romance to fantasy to kids to non-fiction and more! Literally something for everyone, so I really hope if you’re close enough to make it there, you’ll come join us. Several of my friends will also be there. This is my first year attending, and I’m really excited about it. Since my grandparents lived nearby and I spent so much time in the area as a child, and then moving into the area as a young adult, I have a soft spot for the Hershey area. I still have family and friends in the neighborhood, so to speak.
Before I get back to my to-do lists (yes, besides the writing list, I have the usual weekend list and the ongoing project list), I have a quick snippet of story for you today from Hunting Medusa.
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Andrea rested her head on her folded arms on the kitchen table, only half listening to Kallan typing on his keyboard. She didn’t want to die just yet. She knew for sure she didn’t want to be mutilated before she died.
But she didn’t look forward to killing the Harvester either.
She never should have had sex with him. She knew it. She’d known it beforehand.
And she should definitely not still want him.
When the phone rang, it was a relief. For a few seconds. Until she realized it was Thalia. “My cousin.” She didn’t think she needed to explain her mental caller I.D. to him.
Kallan held her gaze for a long moment. “Don’t try to let her know what’s going on,” he said at last. “I know where a lot of your cousins are located, and I’m not the only one.”
Her heart pounded harder at the implication, but she got to her feet and picked up the receiver. “Hello, Thalia. How are you?”
“I’m fine, Andi, but I think you need to get away for a while.”
She frowned, feeling Kallan’s presence behind her. Close behind her. Close enough to hear her conversation. “What do you mean?” His body heat teased her.
“The Harvesters are out and about. I’m afraid for you.”
Andi shut her eyes for a second, then opened them again when he put his hands on her shoulders. She shot him a glare and moved away, back toward the table. “I’m fine.”
That was true. But she wondered if her cousin realized she was very often late with her flashes of intuition. Far too late in this case. “Okay. I’ll give it some thought, all right? Mom said something the other day about visiting.” Gods, had it only been two days ago? “And Aunt Lydia just called yesterday too. I could go to see either of them if anything seems odd.”
His hands settled on her shoulders again, massaging the tense muscles there.
She didn’t bother to shrug him off this time. He was persistent. “I could even come visit with you,” she teased, forcing a lightness into her tone.
Her cousin cleared her throat. “I actually have company right now,” she said after a moment, and Andi could almost see her blushing. “You remember I met someone in Athens last summer? Well, he’s come again to stay for a while.” Even over the phone, the emotion in Thalia’s voice was obvious.
One more cousin safe—none of the cousins who’d fallen in love ever had the curse land on their heads. A tiny bit of relief made her relax further under Kallan’s touch. “That’s terrific, Thalia. When do the rest of us get to meet him?”
“We’re talking dates,” the other woman said, a hint of a smile in her tone now. “I’ll be sure to let you know.”
“Good. And thanks for the warning. I miss you.”
“I miss you, too. I’ve got to go, Andi. Talk to you soon. But promise you’ll be careful. Danger is coming from more than one direction.”
She pushed the off button on the phone and shut her eyes, ignoring the slight sting in them. She was not envious of Thalia’s good fortune. She was just in an impossible situation here.
His warm breath brushed the top of her head a second before his lips. “That was good.”
She wanted to tell him to go screw himself. She wanted a weapon to swing at him. She wanted him to wrap his arms around her and carry her down onto the nearest flat surface.
Her eyes popped open. Damned hormones.
His hands slid down her sides and wrapped around her, settling her back against his chest as if he’d read her mind. She hoped he didn’t have that ability.
“What have you found?” she asked instead, keeping herself upright instead of relaxing further.
“Not a cursed thing.”
She blinked. She hadn’t really expected he’d tell her, but the resignation in his tone told her his reply was the truth. She inhaled unsteadily. “I guess you have to make up your mind then. You or me.”
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Now it’s time to have some of that cake and do some editing. I’ve been good and held off on starting my shiny new J.D. Robb book Payback in Death, but that is on my list for tomorrow, with baseball games Tuesday and Wednesday–our local minor league team is in the playoffs, and we’ll be cheering them on in the first two games before they hit the road for the rest of the first series.
What fun do you have in your plans for the week to balance the work? I’d love to hear about it!
This past week was more like July than the beginning of September, but it looks like we’re going to have a break from 100 degree temps this week finally. Good thing, because I was seriously considering running away to the North Pole. The photo in the graphic above is from the ridge above my Dad’s house some years ago, when the leaves had just started to brighten up the hillside. I guess since today is only the mid-80s, I’ll stay here for now.
That’ll be good for my to-do list and September goals list, which I’ve been working on. I’ve checked off two things on the list for the month, in addition to all of my normal weekend chores. Now all of the currently-completed books in the short contemporary series my friend is reading through are in a format she can access on any device (yes, I’m one of those people who hates Word and writes in another word processing program that’s more intuitive to use, haha), which will help her since she got called for jury duty this week and expects to need reading material. And I’ve ordered some cute things for the booksigning coming up in four more weeks in Hershey!
Yes, I did warn you you’re going to hear a lot more about that in the next month! I have some more info on my Facebook page and will talk a bit more about it in newsletters. Yes, those will be going out soon, too, so if you’re not on the newsletter list and want to be, head over to my website and sign up! I promise, I don’t send them non-stop. (I hate those every day, spammy buy-my-book emails, so I won’t do that, I prefer to send just when I have news or an event, like a booksigning or an upcoming release/new book release party.)
Before I get back to my to-do lists, I have a quick snippet for you this week from Light the Way Home.
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Lucie didn’t argue when Nate refused her help with the dishes. Her insides still quivered from the realization that he was attracted to her.
“I’ll see you in the mornin’, Lucie!” Hayden shouted, hopping on one foot.
She smiled as she put her sweater on. “Yes, you will.” They’d already decided Hayden would join her after breakfast so Nate could cram in a few hours of work before he headed to the hospital to see his dad–and try to get his mother to come home rather than sleep on the less-than-ideal pull-out chair-bed in his dad’s hospital room again.
She wasn’t sure that was a battle he would win, but she understood his concern.
Hayden gave her a quick hug and then ran back to his book in the living room.
“I really do appreciate this, Lucie,” Nate said from where he stood at the sink.
“It’s nothing, Nate,” she said lightly. “Keeps me from having to spend endless hours on job search sites and getting more depressed than I already am.” She kept her head down as she buttoned her sweater up to her chin.
“It isn’t nothing to me.”
His firm, quiet tone snared her attention, and her mouth went dry. The shadows in his brown eyes made her curl her fingers around the edges of her sweater to keep from reaching out.
“I’m not accustomed to asking for help.” He cleared his throat. “I appreciate it.”
She swallowed. “It’s no problem,” she whispered. Dammit–hot, attracted to her, and vulnerable. Shit, that was trouble. She took a slow breath. “I’ll see you in the morning then.” She inched toward the door.
A hint of awareness darkened his eyes, but he stayed where he was. “Good night, Lucie.”
She took two more steps, clearing the doorway to the mud room, and a little relief sank into her belly. Until she heard footsteps behind her.
Within reach of the back door, she whirled. He stood at the open doorway of the kitchen, undisguised desire in his eyes this time. Her heart skipped a beat, and she felt a quick rush of excitement that she tried to squash as he stepped into the mud room. She held her breath as he took another step. One more. Until he stood a foot away, and her breath rushed out.
He studied her face for a long moment, and she wondered what he saw, what he was looking for. Impulsively, she moved closer to him, noting the way his eyes rounded, and she stretched up to brush a kiss on his mouth, lingered for a second, then stepped back.
“Good night, Nate,” she whispered, reaching behind her for the doorknob.
His dark gaze followed her out the door, and she turned away, a smile curving her lips.
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Does it feel like fall where you are yet? I’d love to hear if you’re getting better September weather than we are or if you’re suffering through extended summer as well.
It’s Labor Day weekend as I write this. We just finished a family dinner and I sent home enough leftovers that the boys won’t need to cook for a few days. Yesterday was a long-overdue visit with a friend (plus a second viewing of the Barbie movie for me; loved it as much the second time as the first time. Honestly, every woman in the world should see this, plus any man looking for some understanding of a woman or women in his life that he loves.), and now the rest of the long weekend is ahead of me with time to do things like prepping manuscripts for the friend who’s reading the short contemporary series for me, writing, and reading time!
Oh, and figuring out my September goals. Oops. Well, I’m only a couple days late on that.
The other thing I have on my to-do list is to start prepping for the booksigning in Hershey, PA next month. I’m going to be sending out a newsletter soon with some details on that, so if you’re not on the mailing list, click that link above to my website and fill out the mailing list link at the bottom of the page. If you’re not on the list yet, just know I don’t spam you with daily emails or anything like that. In spite of my best intentions, I honestly mostly just send newsletters when I have an event coming up, but I want to send something at least monthly–it’s on my goals list for the rest of the year. Although, to be fair, if the rest of the things on this year’s goal list happen, there should be more things for me to share, event and release-wise.
Before I go back to my to-do lists, I have a quick snippet for you from Protecting Medusa today.
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Philomena parked beside her mother’s house. She’d arrived first, and she needed to get dinner on in a hurry. Once Jason got home, she’d be too distracted to focus on cooking.
She went in the back door, balancing a grocery bag while she reset the alarm, then hit the light switch with her elbow as she continued into the kitchen.
She took her mother’s cast iron skillet from its hook over the counter and put it on the stove, turning the heat to high and dropping in some ground beef before she shed her coat. As she put away the rest of the groceries, the meat began to sizzle.
She rolled up her sleeves and dug a spatula out of the utensil drawer, but froze when she heard a creak from upstairs. She waited, then shook her head. It was a hundred year-old farmhouse.
She stirred the beef in the pan, adding chopped onions she’d picked up at the store–not out of laziness but because she knew she needed to move quickly after three days away and with an excitable six-year-old on his way home. She could take time tomorrow to do her own prep work for dinner.
The sound came again from upstairs. She set the spatula on the spoon rest and turned the flame under her pan down to low, then tugged up the hem of her long skirt to pull her dagger from its leather sheath on her thigh.
A loud thud reached her ears, and her heart beat faster.
Dear Gods, someone really was in the house.
She crept up the back steps, keeping to the edges where she knew her weight wouldn’t make the stairs creak, the smooth handle of her long knife comforting in her sweat-damp hand.
More thumping, accompanied by running water.
She frowned when she got to the top of the steps, wincing as something hit the porcelain bathtub, followed by muffled cursing.
She stuck her head around the corner, but the partially-closed bathroom door at the other end of the hall blocked her view. All she could see were shadows.
Two people? In her mother’s bathroom? She wished she’d grabbed the phone on her way up so she could call the police. No, she should’ve called before coming upstairs. Too late now.
More thumping and a crash.
Her jaw clenched, and she stepped into the hallway, her pulse pounding in her ears.
“I’ve called the police,” she lied, moving slowly along the hall. Frigid air drifted toward her. Either the bathroom window was open, or something was seriously wrong with the furnace. She frowned, holding tighter to her knife.
A dark blur went out the window, and her eyes widened. It was quite a drop to the ground, even with all the snow mounded below from the big storms so far this winter.
When a large, naked man with a gun went to look out the window, she froze in the middle of the hall, her dagger shoulder high.
Naked.
She swallowed, and then he turned around. Her lungs stopped working.
“Hello, Philomena. Have I ever told you how much I love a woman who can handle a blade?” He caught the edge of the door and pulled it wide open.
She’d know that voice anywhere, and that face, even if she’d only seen him in photos. Ryder Ware, Jason’s father.
And wow, was she seeing him in person.
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Are you getting in some reading time on this long holiday weekend? I’d love to hear about it if you are!
Writing that makes me think of an old Little River Band song that was popular when I was a little kid. Which seems appropriate, I suppose, since the things that made me reminisce in the first place reminded me of things from childhood.
I did a little scanning project yesterday–my grandma’s hand-written recipe cards (that’s actually her card box in the graphic above), so I can share with siblings. Seeing her neat printing on the cards makes me feel good. As for trying any of the recipes…well, there will be a lot of guess-work involved for us, because the recipes are mostly ingredient lists/measurements, rather than actual directions. If we try any of the many cookie or cake recipes, we’ll have to be vigilant when it’s time to bake. And creative, as far as guessing an appropriate temperature. But I think she must have made some of them so many times she didn’t need anything besides measurements. Some of the cards have permanent splatters on them from use, one or two, she’d splashed something, then rewrote what had been there after it dried. On many of them, she notes whose recipe it was originally. There are some from both of her grandmothers, a few from her two sisters, a lot from friends, and even a couple from my Pop-pop’s mother.
It was a nice trip back in time, thinking about her making any of the recipes, especially since she’s been gone since1980. I can still see her with her apron on, and that makes me smile. I don’t own an apron, so if we attempt any of them, we may not come out of it as neatly as she would have. I’m okay with that.
Since I’m looking back this week, I have a snippet for you today from Hunting Medusa.
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Andi tugged uselessly at her wrist, but his arm didn’t move from his side. “Hey, Harvester.”
The obnoxious grin slid off his face. “Stop calling me that.”
“It’s your name.”
He glared at her, then folded his arms over his chest, dragging hers along and forcing her to half roll toward him again.
She yanked away but he put his other hand over her wrist.
“Go to sleep.”
She shot him a disbelieving glance. “I’m sorry. I’m not used to sleeping in handcuffs. Or with all the lights on. And I’m not tired.” That last sounded rather childish, she admitted to herself, but the man had nerve.
He observed her for a long moment, until she wanted to squirm under his scrutiny. Then another slow grin started at one corner of his mouth, gradually curving his full lower lip all the way to the opposite corner. “I bet I can fix that.”
“I don’t think so.” She leaned as far away as her trapped arm allowed.
He moved fast, flipping her on top of him before she realized his intent.
Andi blinked, then felt her heart pound faster. The Harvester had muscles on his muscles.
Not the best time to be noticing that, perhaps.
She watched him warily as he shifted under her, settled her close, then stretched their cuffed wrists away from their sides. She put her free hand on his shoulder and pushed herself up a little. “What are you doing?”
“Getting you tired.” His other hand slid up her spine to the nape of her neck, where his fingers started massaging the tight muscles.
“Stop it.” She shifted her head to one side, then the other, but his strong fingers continued exactly what they’d been doing. She frowned down at him.
He smiled innocently.
“That doesn’t work for me.” It did feel good, though. Not that she’d tell him.
Kallan’s bright gaze slid down from her eyes to her mouth, almost like an actual touch on her lips.
She swallowed. “Don’t even think about it.”
“Too late,” he murmured, using his grip at her nape to bring her closer.
Andi sucked in a startled breath when he brushed his mouth along hers. “You’re sick.”
It was his turn to blink. “What?”
“You’re here to kill me, right?”
His brows dipped into a frown.
“You’re not supposed to be…screwing me too.” She blushed.
His frown disappeared. “I’m not trying to screw you. Just kiss you, Andrea.”
Her mouth dropped open in shock.
“Well, that makes it much easier,” he said softly, lifting his head to catch her lips.
His kiss wasn’t what she’d expected. Not that she’d been imagining it. Not really. His lips were warm and soft on hers, not demanding or ruthless—although she was certain he possessed both qualities, and probably far worse, knowing his gene pool. His kiss was more an exploration. A gentle caress.
And for a moment, she decided, she could enjoy it. It had been a very long time since a man had kissed her.
She shivered when he nipped at her lower lip, then heard a soft sound escape her throat when his warm tongue soothed the bitten spot. At her nape, his fingers still moved gently, and the friction sent unexpected heat rushing down her spine and into her belly.
Gods, it had been so long. She leaned into his caress, just a little.
And his kiss shifted into something a lot more demanding.
Hot desire exploded in her middle, reaching out to all her extremities—to her face, tightening her nipples and making her press them into his chest. The hand she’d had propped on his shoulder slid up to his hair.
She knew this was a really bad idea. The man was an assassin. Her assassin.
But his kiss… It was a kiss unlike any other she’d experienced. Ever. And apparently, her impending PMS had already set her hormones in motion. She wouldn’t be able to use the vibrator with him here, but this was so much better…
Dark heat expanded inside her, making her forget the danger he posed. Making her wish she could indulge this unexpected attraction. Just for a little while.
Beneath her, his body hardened—even more than it had earlier in her kitchen—and the hardest part pressed just, oh Gods, at the right spot for her to shift her hips against his, hearing a soft moan. She knew it came from her and she didn’t care.
His hair was like silk along her fingertips, and his mouth feasted at hers, fueling her own desire.
When they had to part to breathe she could barely force her eyes open, and when she did, she found his dark with need. And wide with shock.
She gulped in some air that failed to cool her desire. It didn’t even really sate her body’s need for oxygen, but it was the best she could do when her brain wouldn’t function properly.
“Tired yet?” he rasped, his thumb sliding along the side of her neck.
An unexpected laugh bubbled from her throat.
He smiled faintly.
Andi swallowed hard. “Have you forgotten who you are? Who I am?” She really needed to remember both of those things. If she could only make her brain work again.
His smile disappeared, and something like regret surfaced in his eyes before he shook his head. “Unfortunately, I have not.” He pressed his thumb harder against her neck, and her world went black.
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Do you have any little bits of family memories around your house that send you on a trip to the past? I’d love to hear about them!
We had a couple really nice days this past week. Nice enough to turn off the a/c and open the windows. That hasn’t happened in quite a while, so I quite enjoyed it. Today, we’re back to a closed-up house and the a/c on, but now that I’ve had a taste of nice weather, I want more. The strawberry lemonade in the pic above looks just about perfect for this weather. I’ve been on a smoothie kick the last month or two–frozen fruit, a little yogurt and fruit juice into the blender and in a minute, basically a full meal, haha. But it’s been a really great treat with the heat we’ve had. I had one this morning to start the day before heading off to the annual gem show with one of my besties.
I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I only came home with one tumbled stone this year, and no jewelry. The awesome booth that was new two years ago with all the fantastic rings wasn’t here this year, so no pretty new ring for me. To be fair, I have more rings than I can regularly wear now, but it’s always fun to find something new and shiny, isn’t it? We did find a fun booth among the outside vendors this year, a couple of women from an Ohio shop who had all kinds of awesome things, like the Moonology oracle card deck I brought home. So now I’ll count down until the smaller holiday season show they do. Besides the possibility of some of the favorite booths, it will also mean much cooler weather by November.
Between now and then, though, I have a book signing coming up, in Hershey, PA, Sat, October 7th. I have a bit of info about it on my Facebook page, and will be talking a lot more about it between now and the beginning of October. It’s scheduled to be an outdoor event, so I’m crossing my fingers Mother Nature cooperates that day.
Before I go knock some things off my weekend to-do list, I have a quick snippet of Light the Way Home for you today.
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Lucie had been on Mac’s Light Island for almost three weeks, but the view from the back door of her temporary home still took her breath away. Right now, she realized she’d been standing there staring, slack-jawed, at the sunlight glinting off the grey-blue ocean waves for a good five minutes. Shaking her head, she pulled the door shut and stepped down onto the sidewalk, feeling in her purse for her car keys.
She closed her fingers on the fob as a giggle reached her ears. She turned to the white picket fence that bordered the property next door as a big multi-colored ball sailed over it, toward her. “Oh!” She caught it before it hit her in the face, then started across the grass, balancing the ball on her hand.
Another giggle sounded as she neared the fence, so she adjusted her direction a tiny bit and came to a stop looking directly down onto a tousled blond head.
“I think you lost something,” she said.
The little boy’s face tipped up quickly, his blue eyes wide with surprise–as if he couldn’t believe she’d found him already.
Lucie grinned and held the ball higher.
He smiled as he got to his feet, brushing off his jeans-clad knees.
From seeing him playing outside several times already, she’d guessed he might be four, but now at close range, she scaled that back to three.
“Hi, I’m Hayden,” he said, holding out his right hand.
It was her turn to be surprised. She shook his hand, bemused. “Hi, Hayden, I’m Lucie.” Not too many three-year-olds had such good manners. Aside from the ball toss at her face, that is. “Nice to meet you.”
He glanced up at his ball. “Me an’ my dad are your neighbors.”
“I see that.” She noted he hadn’t mentioned his mom. “Who were you playing with?” She gave the ball a little bounce.
“Maybe you wanna play with me.” Guileless blue eyes locked on her face.
Ah. She squelched the pang in her chest. “I wish I could, but I’m on my way to town. Maybe we can play another time?” she added when his grin vanished.
“Like this afternoon?”
“Hayden!”
The deep voice got her attention–and the boy’s–just before a tall, sandy-haired man rounded the back corner of the next-door house.
Lucie’s mouth went dry. Wowza!
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Though it’s going to be hot here again this week, I’ll be staying inside where it’s cool for the most part. Except when we go out for another concert this week. This time is The Dead Daisies. We haven’t seen them since 2019, so I’m excited that they were coming close enough for us to get there this year. Two concerts in under two weeks…we haven’t done that in a really long time. It’ll be a while till the next one, though, so it’s okay.
How are you beating the heat this week? Staying inside? Envisioning fall’s arrival? Reading books set in the winter? Non-stop frozen beverages? I’d love to hear!
My husband is a big fan of the movie Grumpy Old Men so I’ve seen it more than a few times over the years. A variation of the quote above is used in the movie (though I discovered the origin of the quote is Lewis Carroll), and it’s a good one. I’m a sucker for a good quote, and sometimes movies have really great ones. (One of my favorites about regret is from Love Actually, one of my favorite movies ever, when Daniel is encouraging Sam to go after Joanna before she flies off to America. Now I need to watch that one again.)
Too often we play it safe instead of going after something we really want. We have lots of good excuses, aka reasons, we shouldn’t take the risk–too many other responsibilities, bills to pay, people counting on us, et cetera–but generally the main reason we don’t is the fear we might fail. None of us likes that feeling of failing at something, and not trying for something we really want to do is an easy way not to fail. Except…don’t you think you’ll wonder ‘what if I had’ forever? I’m talking about important things here, a long-held desire to do or be something, for instance someone who wants to perform in some capacity like singing or acting, but they choose not to take the chance, telling themselves they’re not good enough, that they need to stay close to home for family, that too few people actually succeed, so why bother trying… You get the idea. You might even recognize some of those excuses from a time you chose not to take a chance yourself. I do.
I’m not saying we should all just toss caution to the wind and abandon our responsibilities to run off and chase a childhood dream. I am suggesting, though, that we could all take more risks in life. Even small ones– joining a class to learn something you’ve wanted to know how to do but hesitated because you wouldn’t know anyone there, or it might take you away from home for an evening or a whole Saturday. Or maybe a bigger one, like going back to school to pursue a degree, even while you would still have to keep your day-job. Or, what the heck, auditioning for the regional theater’s new production if you’ve always wanted to perform. The worst that can happen is you find out it isn’t what you’d hoped, or that you’re not really cut out to deal with the reality of being onstage. But you’ll know. You won’t spend the rest of your life wondering ‘what if’. As scary as taking the leap can be, having a definite answer is better than never trying, I think.
It’s not impossible to go it alone, but I will admit, it helps if you have some support. When I was starting to seriously dip my toe into writing waters eons ago, it helped that my husband encouraged me. I never would have gone to my first writers’ conference if he hadn’t, and boy, would I be sorry now. I met some great people there, some I’m still friends with 20+ years later. I can’t imagine where my writing would be now if I hadn’t gone there, if I hadn’t met some of those people, including one who encouraged me not to quit when I reached a point where I was seriously thinking about it.
Wow, this turned into a lot more than I anticipated when I started. I didn’t intend on a lecture, just some encouragement, and maybe someone will take it and run, maybe someone will think harder about what they’ve been considering. And if not, that’s okay, too. We all have limits to the level of risk we can tolerate.
Now I need to get back to today’s to-do list. My weekend is off-schedule from the norm, because we went Friday night to see Rick Springfield on the “I Want My 80s” tour. I’ve wanted to see him since I was in high school a really long time ago, and it was worth the wait. As an added bonus, we also got to see The Hooters again; I haven’t seen them in ages and they’re so great live. Plus Paul Young and Tommy Tuntone were on the tour, too. It was a really awesome night, and I’ve already worn my new Jessie’s Girl t-shirt. Haha. I can’t wait to see him again. In the meantime, I’m listening to his new album Automatic on repeat, and alternating periodically with the new album The Hooters released this year, too. Totally worth throwing off my weekend routine.
Before I get back to the weekend chores, I have a quick snippet for you today from Freeing Medusa, the final book in the Medusa’s Daughters trilogy.
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She nodded, shutting her eyes behind the blindfold. “I’m sorry, Hunter.”
“For what?”
“For you being stuck in the middle of this.” She let her chin drop as he carried her up the steps again. “You shouldn’t have to play nursemaid and fight off killers you never even heard of before today.”
The bed hit her back, but Hunter didn’t move away, his wide chest half-covering hers. “I’m not stuck in anything, Katharine. I do what I want, and if scaring off murderers and keeping you safe is necessary, I can do it.”
“You shouldn’t have to.”
She heard his quick, exasperated sigh. “I don’t have to. Don’t you get that? I could’ve just kept driving this morning when I saw him climbing in your bedroom window. I wanted to do this. I want to make sure you’re safe.” He touched the corner of her mouth. “Friday night was amazing, but I was kind of hoping we could play the dating game, Kat.”
Her brain whirling at the rest of his words, she didn’t catch the shortening of her name right away. “No one’s called me Kat since I was six,” she said finally.
“Who was it?”
“A boy in my class. He never did it again.”
“Did you hit him?” A smile sounded in his voice.
“A little.” She couldn’t stop her own smile. “He never talked to me again, even though he was in my class for two more years.”
Hunter brushed her lips with his, startling her. “Are you going to hit me?”
She shook her head on the pillow. “Not today.”
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My current chances I’m taking with my writing involve my ongoing hunt for a new critique partner or group–since I’ve not had any luck with that so far, I took a co-worker up on her offer to read for me, so at the moment, she has the first two books in a short contemporary series I wrote some time ago and would like to get out into the world. Depending on how that goes, maybe I can get those ready before the end of the year. Freeing Medusa is on my list for release this year as well, one way or another.
So…what is one chance you’re going to seriously consider taking this week? Or this month? I’d love to hear about it!
It’s hot here again, after a week that was so much nicer than the previous few, but I can see the end of the miserable hot season off in the distance. I got a look at some of my seashell collection earlier, though, and wished I was at the shore to do my reading today. Then I wondered where everyone else would like to be doing their summer reading.
I can see how a comfy hammock would be a good reading spot, but I’d need mine to have some shade, because it’s in the 90s again here. At the beach, it might be a few degrees cooler, but I’d have the breeze coming in off the water, so it would be better, at least for me.
So where would you choose to be for your summer reading? The beach? Under a shady tree? Inside in the air conditioning? Somewhere else? I’d love to hear!
My wondering about reading spots distracted me from my to-do list, so I’m way behind on that today. I actually think I’m not going to get everything checked off, and I’ve decided that’s okay today. The important things will be done, and the rest will wait for another day. Before I get back to the list, though, I have a little snippet for you today from Protecting Medusa.
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The man had some nerve.
Philomena glared into the skillet and dragged the spatula through the eggs vigorously. Too vigorously, as the spatula scraped the side of the pan. Letting out a shaky breath, she tried to push Ryder out of her head for a few minutes.
She’d called her mother when she came downstairs, and Aggie assured her they were fine. Jason was watching his favorite Saturday morning cartoon in his pajamas before breakfast. Philomena felt a bit better knowing he was safe and happy.
Her gaze slid to the window over the sink. She could see the woods that lay between her mother’s house and her own. Only a couple miles of distance. Not far enough.
She stirred the eggs at a more normal pace now. Sure, she’d known when the curse fell on her eight years ago that the Harvesters were a serious threat. But somehow, she’d hoped after all this time they wouldn’t find her.
She shivered, thinking how lucky they were Ryder had been waiting for the Harvester yesterday. Otherwise, her mother and Jason might have arrived to find her dead in the kitchen. She touched the top of her dagger handle through her skirt. She knew how to wield it, but who knew how the Harvester was armed.
She’d have to ask Ryder.
Her pulse quickened. Back to him.
He was showering. She knew because she heard the water running, and it didn’t take much effort to imagine him standing beneath the streaming water. After all, she’d gotten a terrific view of his naked body last evening.
Heat pulsed in her middle at the memory, then more when she thought of later.
She shook her head. No, that was a mistake. Both times. She turned the burner off and covered the pan, then pushed the bread down into the toaster.
The water shut off in the next room, and she swallowed, trying not to let her brain go there again. She busied herself with getting plates and silverware out, then took butter and jelly from the fridge. While thinking of website coding, she poured orange juice into two glasses.
When he emerged from the guest room, his hair was towel-dried, though still damp, making the blond look darker. He wore a soft black t-shirt over faded jeans. She jerked her gaze to his face in time to see that grin disappear.
She narrowed her eyes, but kept her mouth shut and dished up breakfast.
He waited until she had eggs in her mouth before he spoke. “What work do you have going right now?”
She forced down the eggs and chased them with a quick swallow of juice. “I’m nearly done with a big site, then I have a few smaller ones waiting. Regular maintenance on others.”
“You can work on them away from home, right?”
She glared at him. “I’m not leaving.”
He raised one dark blond eyebrow. “I don’t remember asking you.”
She set her fork down. “Just because I made a mistake and slept with you does not give you permission to make my decisions. Also, you are no longer in the military, and not my commanding officer. And, FYI, I will not be sleeping with you again.”
He laughed. “Not much sleeping going on, the way I remember it.”
Heat scorched her face, and Philomena growled, curling her fingers into fists on the table. “I am not looking for a relationship, and even if I were, you wouldn’t be at the top of my wish list.” Good Gods, no.
Ryder took a drink, though she couldn’t understand how, with that miserable grin still spread over his face. “You, Mena, are afraid to be in a relationship with a man stronger than you are.”
She blinked at him, her heart pounding faster. “What?” How could a man she’d managed to avoid for so long know so much about the way her brain worked?
“I’ve seen your ‘dates’. Bunch of pansies, without a spine in the whole lot. You pick men who won’t argue when you decide you’re done with them.” He lifted his fork. “It’s a tactic I’m immune to.” He scooped up more eggs.
Her mouth was dry, but she refused to lift her glass and let him know he’d hit the mark with his assessment of her. “How long have you been spying on me?” she asked instead.
He shook his head, swallowing his eggs. “Just trying to make sure you were safe. Can’t have you bringing danger home to Jason.”
That was low, and she shot him a fierce glare. “I have never dated anyone who was a danger to Jason,” she ground out.
“I know.” His grin remained smug, and she wanted to smack it off his face. “You’ve never dated anyone who was a threat to your remaining single either.”
She shoved away from the table, her chair screeching with the sudden movement. “My dating is none of your business.” She jolted to her feet and spun away.
“You haven’t dated anyone who would present any sort of challenge to you,” he continued from behind her when she walked the few steps to the sink. “Is it because you’re really that afraid, or because you were just waiting for the right man to come along?”
She shook her head, anger and fear clogging her throat, and gripped the edge of the sink so hard her knuckles turned white. There was no ‘right man’ for her. Not for the Medusa.
Behind her, his chair scraped over the floor. “I’m not a spineless wonder like any of those guys,” he said, his booted footsteps drawing nearer. “And I’ve been waiting a very long time, so I’m not going away quietly.”
Philomena shut her eyes.
His big hands settled on her shoulders. “But I promise I’ll never hurt you, Mena,” he whispered, too close to her ear.
She jabbed her elbow into his ribs, hard, surprising him into releasing her. She slid away along the counter. “But I might hurt you.” She patted the hilt of her dagger through her skirt as she faced him. “You know I’m armed, right?”
He rubbed his side where she’d elbowed him, still grinning. “Bring it, baby.”
Her jaw dropped, and he laughed. Suddenly, his smile vanished.
“Get down.”
“What?” She frowned.
He pushed her to a crouch, then moved through the doorway of the guest room, grabbing his gun from the open bag on the bed.
Her heart jumped into her throat at the sight of it.
“We have company,” he breathed, peering through the narrow space she’d made when she parted the living room curtains earlier to let some morning light in.
She fumbled her skirt out of her way and unsheathed her dagger, wrapping her fingers tight around the hilt. It felt good against her palm, but her hand shook. Two days in a row was a little much.
“Hang onto that.” He stepped to the alarm panel and shut the system off, then eased out the back door, his posture cautious.
Philomena shut her eyes. Oh Gods, don’t let the Harvester hurt him. She’d never forgive herself if something happened to him because of her. Jason would be heartbroken. She opened her eyes and took a quick breath. She couldn’t be sitting here in the middle of the floor if Ryder didn’t walk back in. She crawled behind the door, where she could see through the crack between door and frame.
And waited.
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I hope you’ll share where your ideal summer reading spot is, here or on my Facebook page. I’d love to hear about it.
Today is family dinner day for my birthday, with my birthday cheesecake for dessert, and I can’t wait. But it means we’re at the end of the month and the party’s just about over. I suppose a whole month of party should be sufficient, right? We had fun at the FB party on Friday, and we’re just about to wrap up the party on my guest blog post at Delilah Devlin’s blog, too, so if you’re haven’t yet, you should hurry over before Monday morning (7/31/23) to get in on the fun (and the chance for a book!).
That means my next big event (besides writing!) will be prepping for the October booksigning in Hershey, PA. It will be my first time at that signing, and I’m really looking forward to it. I’ll be talking more about it when we get a bit closer, here, on my FB page, and in my newsletter (maybe on my Twitter page, if the site hasn’t completely imploded by then).
In the meantime, I have lots of writing to do. And, if I ever find a new critique partner or group, new books to release into the world, starting with the third and final book in the Medusa’s Daughters trilogy. So today I have a quick snippet for you from the first book in the trilogy, Hunting Medusa.
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It was one of those days when having the Medusa’s fabled power to turn people to stone would really come in handy.
Andrea Rosakis did not, however, have that ability, not this week, anyway. Even though she was the reigning Medusa.
She glared at the man on her back porch, wondering if he could ever understand how lucky he was she wasn’t suffering from PMS this week. And why wouldn’t he stop talking? Her fingers itched to slam the door.
“…if you just have five minutes, ma’am,” he concluded.
She narrowed her gaze on the vacuum beside him. “No, thank you.” And how the hell had he found her all the way out here? No one ever bothered to follow her rough, muddy driveway all the way to the top, even if they did ignore the “No Trespassing” signs posted at the foot of it. Not to mention the protective warding she had set at the boundaries of the entire property. Sure, it wasn’t the heavy artillery of protection spells, but no one else had ever gotten past it. This man however, had not only ignored the signs and the subtle “go away” protections, but managed the entire bumpy, muddy track into the woods and halfway up the mountain. Just to hear her say, “No.”
And he didn’t look discouraged. At all.
Andi almost wished she were PMSing this week, though it would be a real pain in the ass to have to get rid of a life-sized stone statue of a vacuum salesman.
Or maybe she could keep it. He was very pretty, even if he annoyed her. He was tall and broad, his inky black hair was a tad too long, and his bright green eyes held her attention. At least as stone, he’d be silent and still pretty. She gave herself a mental shake. “I’m sorry, but I don’t have time for this—”
“When would be a better time?”
“Never.”
He did blink at that, but his smile never disappeared. “I’ll have to check my calendar.”
She snorted, then clapped her free hand over her mouth. Laughing would not discourage the man. “Look, I’m sure it’s a great vacuum, but I don’t need it. I don’t want to see how it works, and I’d like you to get off my property.”
His smile did fade a little bit. “Well, I suppose, if that’s what you really want.”
She quirked an eyebrow, trying not to smile again. He had the faintest hint of an accent, but she couldn’t place it. Not without hearing him talk some more, and she didn’t want to encourage that either, or he’d just keep trying to sell her an expensive vacuum she didn’t need.
“Maybe I could talk you into meeting me for coffee sometime then,” he said.
Her jaw dropped. The cute salesman was hitting on her. For half a second, she indulged the fantasy of a date with the hunk. A real date, maybe ending with a real kiss. Her pulse quickened. Then she remembered one good date led to more, and eventually, it led to guys running away from her, gibbering like idiots when PMS struck. She shut her mouth and ignored the regret burning in her middle. “Sorry, but no.”
“You’re a hard woman,” he said lightly, his bright gaze sliding down to her mouth. “I’ll leave my card in case you change your mind. About the coffee, that is.” He forced a small card into her hand and picked up his vacuum.
Andi stared after him as he strode off her porch. The bulky vacuum looked like it weighed nothing in his hand, swinging at his side on his way to the shiny, new truck parked behind her car.
When he took one hand from the steering wheel to wave at her, she stopped herself from lifting her hand in response. He turned the truck around and vanished down the drive into the trees. Frowning, she went back inside and shut the door, then locked it and re-armed the alarm. He’d tossed the vacuum into the bed of the truck. A very strong salesman.
Who didn’t seem to care the impending rain was going to damage his expensive vacuum.
She turned back to the door and stared out the narrow window beside it, her heart beating faster now with alarm. Maybe he didn’t realize. Or maybe he really hadn’t come here to sell her a vacuum.
She swallowed hard.
Aunt Celosia had always told the cousins stories of the Harvesters, the men who still hunted for the Medusa. Somehow, Andi had always thought they’d be more frightening. More obvious. Ugly men intent on murder.
If this vacuum salesman was a Harvester, he was sneaky. Of course, if he was a Harvester, he would be sneaky, as Perseus had been when he killed the first Medusa.
She was in a lot of trouble.
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Now, before I have to think about birthday dinner prep, I need to also figure out my August writing goals, too, since tomorrow is the last day of July!
How are you winding down the month? Scrambling to get things done, or planning ahead for the new month? I’d love to hear!
Elizabeth Andrews Writes 