Random Thoughts

ElizabethAndrewsWrites.com

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!

July Means…

ElizabethAndrewsWrites.com

Yes, it’s that time of year again, when I will torture you all (and myself) weekly with photos of pretty cakes. I do have cake on my mind already, because I already ordered a cheesecake for my birthday (Junior’s Cheesecake for the win! And no, they’re not paying me to say so, I just love them, and it’s been 4 years since I got to NYC and had some in person, and a few years since I ordered my last cake from them. Usually pricey, but worth it, but I happened to catch a big sale, so double win for me!). It’ll be here two days before, which means I have time to defrost it so it will be ready to eat on the day. I can’t wait.

Even better, I start a week of PTO a few days before my birthday, which means (I hope!) lots of writing time, plus getting other things done around the house. And some reading time, for sure, even if I have to stay inside in the a/c to do it. And I’m thinking about a FB birthday party that week, but not settled on anything in particular just yet. I’ll keep you posted if I work things out and schedule it.

I’ve been checking things off today’s to-do list, including figuring out my July writing goals. Before I get back to the list, I have a quick snippet for you today from Freeing Medusa, third and final book in the Medusa’s Daughters trilogy.

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Hunter had to do more digging to find Katharine than he’d guessed would be necessary. It took him several hours and finally a phone call to a friend at the DOT to get her mailing and street addresses. By then it was too late to call or show up at her door unannounced. So in the morning, he checked in at the office to see what Mary Ann had on tap for him. Luckily, he had a couple hours free before he had to meet with a new client. Time to see Katharine.

He debated getting a gift certificate for a lingerie store to take along, to replace the underwear he’d destroyed, then decided that might be a little much, considering he was still virtually a stranger.

Instead he picked up a fistful of daisies and drove across town to the address his buddy had given him last night. A neat little one story white house with an attached garage. Two narrow flowerbeds flanked the two steps to the front door.

And a tall guy in black shoved open a window at the side of the house as Hunter eased his car along the street.

Heart pounding faster, he didn’t stop in front of her house as he’d intended, but down the street several houses, and the way the homes were spaced on her street, it was far enough that the guy wouldn’t hear him and automatically assume he was coming to Katharine’s. He left the daisies on the seat and sprinted back to her house, through her neighbors’ yards. He peered around the corner of her house. The side window was open, and there was no sign of the man. He was inside.

Hunter’s pulse quickened. No time to call the cops. He stepped up to the front door, noting the alarm company sticker in the front window. He didn’t want to do damage to her door, though, or alert the intruder to his entry, so he pulled a set of picks from his pocket, jiggling one carefully in the lock until the latch gave. Then he stepped inside, holding his breath while hoping the alarm would take a few seconds before it went off.

There was silence through the little house. Maybe she hadn’t set the alarm. He shut the door noiselessly, then heard a low voice.

Good thing he hadn’t given up carrying. He whipped his gun out as he crept through the living room, past the empty kitchen and an office. He stopped when he got to the open door of the bedroom and leveled his gun on the dark man standing over her bed with a wicked-looking, slightly curved blade in his hand. In the open collar of his shirt, a gold pendant gleamed, something too small for Hunter to identify. A few feet from there, the curtain fluttered in the breeze coming through the open window.

“Drop it,” he said evenly, hoping Katharine stayed right where she was, lumped beneath her blankets.

The guy jumped, startled, clearly so absorbed in his own plans that he hadn’t paid any attention to the rest of the house. Good thing for Hunter, and for Katharine. Bad for the intruder.

From the corner of his eyes, Hunter saw movement on the pillow, but he couldn’t take his attention from the intruder to look. He just hoped she stayed in her spot on the opposite side of the bed long enough for him to deal with this asshole.

“Do you really want to stop me?” the other man asked in heavily accented English. “From killing this monster?”

“No monsters here, buddy. Drop the knife. Now.” He jerked his gun a little, indicating the rocking chair in front of the closet where the weapon wouldn’t be easily reachable again. More movement on the pillow. In his peripheral vision, it looked like a couple of snakes. That couldn’t be. He kept his gaze on the other man. “Do it.”

The man’s dark eyes narrowed, mouth tightening, his expression furious. “It is my duty to kill the Medusa.”

Hunter thumbed off the safety on his gun. “If you don’t drop your weapon now, I’m going to put a very large hole in you. One you will not recover from.”

The dark guy muttered something Hunter couldn’t understand, something foreign, and, after a few more seconds, tossed the blade away, but not where Hunter had indicated. Instead he threw it over the bed so it stuck in the plaster wall beside the mirror attached to her dresser. When Hunter glanced away from him to be certain the dagger hadn’t done any damage to Katharine, the intruder lunged out the open window.

“Dammit,” he muttered, striding to the window in time to see the back of the other guy vanishing around the neighbor’s porch a few dozen yards away. He pulled his head back inside and froze.

Those were snakes on the pillow, several of them.

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See that face above? That pretty is on the cover of Freeing Medusa, and I’ve been waiting forever to share the pretty cover with you, but am still on the hunt for a new critique partner before I can feel okay about putting Hunter and Kat out into the world. Hoping for later this year!

My to-do list actually had outdoor things on it for this weekend, but we are still getting smoke from the Canadian wildfires here, so I’ve been limiting my outside time to cat feeding and petting times, plus a little bit of garden time in the evenings. I feel awful for the people who live near the fires, as bad as it’s been here, I imagine it’s a thousand times worse there.

So before I get back to the to-do list, I’m wondering if you have a favorite birthday cake flavor? I’d love to hear, either here, or over on my Facebook page. Hope you all have a great week!

End of May Already?

ElizabethAndrewsWrites.com

I swear we just started the month, right? I was just figuring out this month’s writing goals a few days ago. Or not.

I guess I need to move June goals to the top of what’s left of this weekend’s to-do list. Good thing it’s a three-day weekend, especially since I feel like I haven’t gotten enough done so far. I already have a to-do list started for next weekend, which happens to be a four-day weekend for me–all the usual weekend chores, plus mulching the gardens, trimming back the lilac so it’s ready when we’re ready to move it to the back of the yard, lots more. Which is why I think after I check this week’s blog off today’s list, I’m going to not look at this weekend’s list anymore today. I still have tomorrow to finish it, and the boys will be here a little later for a family dinner. I’ve already checked off the cooking–I put beans in the crockpot Friday night, and they’re ready to go, and I made burgers a few weeks ago after I got a grocery delivery and put the burgers in the freezer till we were ready for them. Seems a good way to spend the rest of a beautiful Sunday, especially since one of the things on my to-do list can’t happen with the breeze today (spray paint + this breeze = big mess, haha).

Before I go do no more work today, I have a quick snippet for you from Freeing Medusa.

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While he waited, he paced from the kitchen into the living room, examining her window locks. Sturdy enough, but apparently the guy who’d come calling with the knife had something to unlatch them. and her alarm hadn’t been turned on, or it would have started wailing after he’d opened the front door. Hell, if it were on, it should have gone off after the window was opened, because all of the windows he’d just checked were wired into the alarm.

That thought made him stride to the front door and the alarm panel inside it. Nothing. The screen was blank.

He tested the light switch beside the door. The light overhead came on. So the bastard knew the alarm was on its own line and had only cut that.

Hunter turned the light switch off and walked back the short hall to her bedroom again. He heard the water still running and hoped she was all right. He’d be anything she couldn’t even stand up straight when she’d got out of bed.

He let out a slow breath and leaned against the doorjamb, folding his arms over his chest. When he’d thought all weekend about seeing her again, he’d never imagined anything like this.

Still, he couldn’t deny the snakes. He’d seen them.

She’d called the other man a Harvester. There was sure to be a story there. He wondered if she’d be up to tell him some of it after her shower. He wondered how the debilitating cramps fit in with the Medusa thing.

Hunter was pretty sure none of the mythologies he’d read in school mentioned anything about that. Or the Harvester. Somehow, he thought he might have a real challenge on his hands finding anything about it on any of the usual search engines.

The water shut off in the bathroom, and he turned to go back out to the kitchen and put her soup in the microwave. By the time he heard her very slow footsteps in the short hall, the soup was steaming on the kitchen table.

“Hunter?”

“Right here.”

She sighed. “I was afraid of that.”

He grinned. She didn’t know him very well. Yet.

“You’re going to have to close your eyes. Or go sit in the living room if you won’t leave.”

“I’m not leaving. And maybe you should shut your eyes and let me feed you.”

She was silent for a moment. “I’d really rather you went in the living room.”

He figured he could give her that one since he had other plans for her after her lunch, and he was positive she wouldn’t like them. Keeping his gaze averted from the hallway, he crossed to the living room and sat on the sofa facing the front windows.

Katharine moved into the kitchen, still walking slowly. When he heard a chair scrape across the floor, he glanced into the other room instinctively. She’d chosen a chair that faced away from him. She’d also done something with her hair after her shower, some kind of complicated braid that made it impossible for the snakes to escape. He forced his gaze away from her and frowned.

There was silence from the kitchen for so long that he wondered what she was doing. Finally, he heard the spoon clink against the side of the bowl.

He relaxed a little. “Guess you’re wondering what I’m doing here,” he said, trying to keep his tone conversational.

“Kind of.”

He shut his eyes and smacked the heel of his hand against his forehead. “Shit. I have flowers in the car for you.”

She huffed out a laugh. “You’re kidding.”

Hunter smiled at the back of her head when he peeked into the other room again. “No. I picked up some daisies. They’ll have to wait now.”

“You brought me flowers and walked into hell.” Another laugh escaped her, only this one didn’t sound as if she were truly amused.

“I brought you flowers and got to save your life,” he corrected her. He leaned forward until he could rest his elbows on his knees, then clasped his hands between them. “I wasn’t expecting that, but it’s a nice bonus.”

“I’m afraid I’m not really up for another night like Friday right now.” She scraped the spoon against the bowl. “A little under the weather today.”

He considered her words, stung. “That wasn’t why I tracked you down,” he said after a few moments of silence broken only by her spoon clinking on the glass bowl. “I was hoping to talk you into dinner some night. Maybe a little more dancing.”

Katharine was silent for a long moment again. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be a bitch. I was already cranky, and now that Harvester’s put a real crimp in my day. Hell, in my life.” She dropped her spoon into the bowl. “Thank you for saving my life, Hunter.”

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How are you spending this lovely spring day? I hope you’re doing something fun. I think I’m going to take my new Nora Roberts book, Identity, out and sit with the stray cats for a while before our Sunday dinner. I’d love to hear how your day is going.

Almost a New Month…

February is almost over, which means it’s time to set new goals.

ElizabethAndrewsWrites.com

Time to assess the progress for this month, and look ahead to March and the yearly goals to see what I need to do, and what I can do, toward those annual goals. Sometimes it’s hard to judge, even knowing theoretically what the day-job schedule looks like–unexpected things pop up, just like in everyone’s lives. Sometimes in theory, an ‘easy’ week is so mentally challenging that writing is an impossibility, and in an insanely busy week, you just need to do something fun and creative as a reward for the rest. No rhyme or reason. That’s life.

That said, I have made some decent progress on the things I wanted to do in February, so I feel okay about those goals. It helps me to print out my goals each month and pin the sheet on the bulletin board beside my writing desk, where I can see it daily. That’s on my to-do list for today, get the March goals printed and hung up, along with some revisions and a bit of paper shredding–one of those tedious chores that comes along with business; every year when we head into tax time, I add it to my list, as my husband’s business accumulates a lot of paper each year, so when we hit the magic number of years we don’t need to keep things anymore for tax purposes, I break out the shredder. It’s a weekend chore, I did a bunch yesterday after our family dinner while watching a new-to-me show, and I’ll do a little more later since I won’t do more until next weekend again.

Before I get back to my to-do list, I have a little snippet for you from Freeing Medusa, which I am aiming to publish this year to round out the trilogy.

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Hunter had to do more digging to find Katharine than he’d guessed would be necessary. It took him several hours and finally a call to a friend at the DOT to get her mailing and street addresses. By then it was too late to call or show up at her door unannounced. So in the morning, he checked in at the office to see what Mary Ann had on tap for him. Luckily, he had a couple hours free before he had to meet with a new client. Time to see Katharine.

He debated getting a gift card for a lingerie store to take along, to replace the underwear he’d destroyed, then decided that might be a little much, considering he was still virtually a stranger.

Instead, he picked up a fistful of daisies and drove across town to the address his buddy had given him last night. A neat little one story white house with an attached garage. Two narrow flowerbeds flanked the two steps to the front door.

And a tall guy in black shoved open a window at the side of the house as Hunter eased his car along the street.

Heart pounding faster, he didn’t stop in front of her house as he’d intended, but down the street several houses, and the way the homes were spaced on her street, it was far enough that the guy wouldn’t hear him and automatically assume he was coming to Katharine’s. He left the daisies on the street and sprinted back to her house, through her neighbors’ yards. He peered around the corner of her house, the side window was open, and there was no sign of the man. He was inside.

Hunter’s pulse quickened. No time to call the cops. He stepped up to the front door, noting the alarm company sticker in the front window. He didn’t want to do damage to her door, though, or alert the intruder to his entry, so he pulled a pick out of his pocket and jiggled it carefully in the lock until the latch gave. Then he stepped inside, holding his breath while hoping the alarm would take a few seconds before it went off.

There was silence through the little house. Maybe she hadn’t set the alarm. He shut the door noiselessly, then heard a low voice.

Good thing he hadn’t given up carrying. He whipped his gun out as he crept through the living room, past the empty kitchen and an office. He stopped when he got to the open door of the bedroom and leveled his gun on the dark man standing over her bed with a wicked-looking, slightly curved blade in his hand. In the open collar of his shirt, a gold pendant gleamed, something too small for Hunter to identify. A few feet from there, the curtain fluttered in the breeze coming through the open window.

“Drop it,” he said evenly, hoping Katharine stayed right where she was, lumped beneath her blankets.

The guy jumped, startled, clearly so absorbed in his own plans that he hadn’t paid any attention to the rest of the house. Good thing for Hunter, and for Katharine. Bad for the intruder.

From the corner of his eyes, Hunter saw movement on the pillow, but he couldn’t take his attention from the intruder to look. He just hoped she stayed in her spot on the opposite side of the bed long enough for him to deal with this asshole.

“Do you really want to stop me?” the other man said in heavily accented English. “From killing this monster?”

“No monsters here, buddy. Drop the knife. Now.” He jerked his gun a little, indicating the rocking chair in front of the closet where the weapon wouldn’t be easily reachable again. More movement on the pillow. In his peripheral vision, it looked like a couple of snakes. That couldn’t be. He kept his gaze on the other man. “Do it.”

The other man’s dark eyes narrowed, mouth tightening, his expression furious. “It is my duty to kill the Medusa.”

Hunter thumbed off the safety on his gun. “If you don’t drop your weapon now, I’m going to put a very large hole in you. One you will not recover from.”

The dark guy muttered something Hunter couldn’t understand, something foreign, and, after a few more seconds, tossed the blade away, but not where Hunter had indicated. Instead, he threw it over the bed so it stuck in the plaster wall beside the mirror attached to her dresser. When Hunter glanced away from him to be certain the dagger hadn’t done any damage to Katharine, the intruder lunged out the open window.

“Dammit,” he muttered, striding to the window in time to see the back of the other guy vanishing around the neighbor’s porch a few dozen yards away. He pulled his head back inside and froze.

Those were snakes on the pillow, several of them.

“Katharine,” he said quietly.

“You should go, Hunter.” Her voice was choked, hushed.

He frowned, his gaze stuck on the snakes. They were in her hair. “Honey, there are snakes–”

“I know. You should go.” She sucked in a harsh breath, and the lump of her under the blankets contracted.

His frown deepened. That could not be. The snakes were not just in her hair, they were her hair. His eyes widened, and his jaw dropped. “Honey, I think you’d better tell me.” His racing mind called up the other man’s words–“the Medusa”.

But those old myths weren’t real.

One of the dark snakes lifted its head from the pillow in his directions and hissed at him.

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Now it’s time to go set some goals and check things off the weekend chore list. What are you hoping to accomplish this week? I’d love to hear.

Welcome to 2023!

ElizabethAndrewsWrites.com

It’s January 1st, and we have the whole shiny new year ahead of us! New Year’s Day is one of my favorite holidays (after Thanksgiving–all that yummy food!). It’s a fresh start on the calendar, and full of possibilities. Plus we get to see it in the night before with bubbly. What’s not to like, right?

I have my writing goals here beside me, along with my nice new planner. A new wall calendar is in view, my desk is cleared off and ready to go.

Before I get to one of the things on my to-do list for the day, I have a quick snippet for you from Freeing Medusa, which I really would like to release this year; it just depends on how my search for a critique partner or group goes.

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Katharine sighed. “You’re going to be difficult about this, aren’t you?” She took the paper and unfolded it, staring blankly for a few seconds at the numbers. She swallowed, wishing her brain was functioning a little more quickly. Evidently, the residual effects of three days of painkillers hadn’t yet gone away.

“You’d better believe it.” He set one hand over hers on the table. “I’m in this thing now, Kat, and you’re going to find it hard to shake me.”

That’s what she was afraid of. She looked away, her gaze catching on the fruit plate. The green of the grapes contrasted sharply with the whitish flesh of the apple slices.

“So,” he said at last, giving her fingers a squeeze, “which cousin are you calling? Didn’t you say there are two now who used to be the Medusa?”

Katharine rested her face on her other hand, shutting her eyes, then sighed. “Yes. Andi’s husband is the one who was a Harvester, and Phila’s husband owns a security firm.”

“Really?”

She opened her eyes to find his gaze had sharpened with his tone. “Yes.”

“I’m going to want to talk to him. I’m sure between the two of us, we can come up with something to keep you safe.”

She shook her head slowly, noting the stubborn set of his jaw. “You’re serious.”

“As a heart attack.”

Katharine couldn’t think of anything else to dissuade him. Maybe later, after the painkillers were completely out of her system and her head was clear…

But that look in his eyes told her he wouldn’t be dissuaded. She swallowed. He couldn’t keep her prisoner here. He had to go to work sometime. Then she could leave.

To go where?

She frowned at the thought and picked up a slice of apple. It didn’t matter where, just somewhere safe. Somewhere the Harvesters wouldn’t find her. Or Hunter. She didn’t want him in danger because of her.

He touched the back of her hand.

She looked up, wary.

“I want to help you.”

“I appreciate that,” she said after a second, slowly, her brain moving much more quickly. “But I don’t see the need for you to endanger yourself for my sake.”

One dark brow lifted.

Katharine inhaled deeply. She didn’t want to argue with him.

“I can see the wheels turning in your head,” Hunter said with a crooked smile. “You aren’t ditching me.”

She set her jaw.

His mouth hitched a little higher on one side. “I know that’s what you’re thinking.”

She exhaled carefully. “Just because you had the misfortune to–”

His smile vanished. “To what? Meet a really beautiful woman? To have seriously hot sex with her?” He leaned forward, and she realized he was still holding her hand. “I don’t have any expectations here, Kat. I just don’t want you killed when I can keep you safe.”

Katharine met his blue gaze, debating with herself. “Can we fight about this later?” she asked finally. “I’d rather be able to do it with a clear head.”

Though his mouth quirked faintly, his eyes remained somber. “I don’t want to argue with you about it at all.”

She couldn’t think of anything to say that wouldn’t simply encourage him to continue the discussion.

“But we can wait until you’re feeling more clear-headed to figure out details,” he said, giving her fingers a light squeeze.

She frowned, tugging her hand free and linking her fingers in front of her on the table. “Thank you.” It was terse, and she knew it, but she didn’t care at the moment.

The man might be the sexiest thing she’d ever seen up close and personal, but he had a stubborn streak at least a mile wide, and she was pretty sure she didn’t like that.

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So what do you have planned for the first week of the new year? Big plans, or are you easing into your goals for the month? I’d love to hear.

How Do You Take Your Romances?

ElizabethAndrewsWrites.com

It occurred to me after I posted last week’s blog that I haven’t posted any snippets from Freeing Medusa in a while, which prompted me to go look at the pretty cover that is waiting (and waiting) for this book to head out into the world. I haven’t shared the cover yet, and I won’t until I have a release date for the book, but I have shared the yummy man who will be on the cover previously. I still find him yummy, and perfect to represent Hunter Phelps on the cover of the book.

This book is hot, as were the two previous books in the trilogy. I like my romances steamy when I’m reading, too, generally, though I will sometimes read less-steamy romances. What about you? Do you like them all scorching? Or do you mix it up?

I have a little snippet for you from Freeing Medusa for you today.

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Katharine had had enough. Her skin tingled with the need for release again, and her heart beat too fast. She hadn’t seen any likely candidates. Even a desperate Medusa had standards.

Which meant it was time to go home and break out a couple more vibrators to get through tonight. Dammit.

She took another sip from her cup, smiling at Ramona from her post on the deck. Her friend danced with someone she’d greeted enthusiastically just a little while ago. She hated to interrupt that, but it really was time to go home.

Katharine sighed and shifted her shoulders, trying to loosen the tight muscles there. She turned her gaze over the crowd one last time, and her breath caught in her chest.

He was gorgeous, in a rugged sort of way. His nose had been broken at least once. A dimple dented his chin, and he had the brightest blue eyes she’d ever seen, black hair dipping over one of them. His green shirt stretched taut over strong shoulders and a wide chest, then tucked into a pair of jeans that fit nicely on narrow hips.

Her heartbeat quickened in anticipation.

Then he glanced up from his conversation with a shorter man and caught her eye. A slow smile curved his mouth as his gaze slid down the front of her, making her skin warm in anticipation, then back up, lingering on her mouth.

Her lips tingled hopefully.

She took a drink from the cup she still held. Whatever frozen thing Ramona had given her was melting and slushy, but she could still taste the bite of alcohol as it hit her tongue.

He moved away from the couple he was with, toward her, and her temperature rose a couple more degrees. His long-legged stride was confident and unhurried.

No, damn him, he made her wait, pausing to greet someone along the way.

She tightened her grip on the stem of the plastic cup and took a quick breath.

He finally stopped about two steps away, and she got a whiff of cologne, something musky that made her mouth water.

Her nipples tightened inside her vest.

“Hi.” The low tone of his voice raised goosebumps on her arms despite the warm evening air.

“Hi.” She put out her right hand. “I’m Katharine Vardos.”

He smiled again, that slow curve of his lips that made heat spread in her belly, from the inside out, until her panties were damp when she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

Then he wrapped his long, strong fingers around hers. “Hunter Phelps. Nice to meet you.”

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I’m thankful I get to write yummy heroes like Hunter (and Kallan, and Ryder, the two previous in the series, and Nate, and the shifter heroes I have piling up). Since we’re into November, I borrowed an idea from an email that was in my inbox last weekend and I’m doing a gratitude post every day on my Facebook page. That’s in addition to the morning happy post. Not a bad time to have more than one thing to be happy or grateful for every day, I think. I’d love if you came over and joined us.

Now I have to get back to the weekend chores list–I started a purge this week of my recipe collection, you know all those random clippings you collect, and I’m nearly through it. Then I need to think about supper, and I have more writing to do–my fourth shifter book, yes, still, but it’s coming along nicely now, so I’m pleased with it–another yummy tiger shifter hero, by the way, and those are also hot. I might even get in some reading time this evening–reading one right now that’s both hot and funny, Only in Texas by Christie Craig, one of my favorite authors for hot and hilarious romances. I read this a long time ago, and am rereading it now. I love her books!

And now I really do have to get back to the to-do list. So tell me how you like your romances? Hot? Sweet? In between?

New Month Means New Start

ElizabethAndrewsWrites.com

I’m really happy to see September. I’d be happier if it felt like September and not July, weather-wise, but that’s not anything I can control. A new month means new goals, a new to-do list. I’ve checked off all but two of the things on my weekend to-do list, and will get the final two tomorrow. It’s a holiday weekend here, so I have an extra day to finish up, a good thing, since I did a couple of unplanned things today and yesterday. Yesterday was an impromptu shopping trip with hubs, and today, we went to see Jaws in 3-D, since it’s one of his favorite movies and only in the theater this weekend. It was my husband’s first trip back to a theater since we went in early 2020 to see Knives Out for the second time, and it was pretty much perfect, as there were a whole four people, including us, in the theater for the show just after noon. (I counted my popcorn as lunch, but I’m having a healthy dinner, so it’ll be okay.)

The weekend to-do list has several constants on it, like laundry and cooking, my weekly blog post, but often has other things tossed in because I will have more time to dedicate to them than during the week. For next weekend, I already have on my list to work on filling my newly-painted bookcase in the office. Once I have that done, I can start whittling down the separate to-do list for my book room, which is in desperate need of attention. It’s a longer-term project, and I’m okay with that. It’ll involve the painful task of going through the books not moving into my office and deciding if I can bear to part with some of them, rehanging a print on the wall in a new spot, and definitely rearranging books on cases. I don’t know if I’ll finish that much before the end of the year, between work, writing, and life. That’s okay, though finishing by the end of the year would be nice, because then I can add a new long-term project to next year’s to-do list.

Before I go get some writing done, I have a quick snippet of Freeing Medusa for you today. (This is one of the things on this year’s to-do list, I swear. I’m just still not having any luck on the critique partner front.)

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Hunter had to do more digging to find Katharine than he’d guessed would be necessary. It took him several hours and finally a phone call to a friend at the DOT to get her mailing and street addresses. By then it was too late to call or show up at her door unannounced. So in the morning, he checked in at the office to see what Mary Ann had on tap for him. Luckily, he had a couple hours free before he had to meet with a new client. Time to see Katharine.

He debated getting a gift certificate for a lingerie store to take along, to replace the underwear he’d destroyed, then decided that might be a little much, considering he was still virtually a stranger.

Instead, he picked up a fistful of daisies and drove across town to the address his buddy had given him last night. A neat little one story white house with an attached garage. Two narrow flower beds flanked the two steps to the front door.

And a tall guy in black shoved open a window at the side of the house as Hunter eased his car along the street.

Heart pounding faster, he didn’t stop in front of her house as he’d intended, but down the street several houses, and the way homes were spaced on her street, it was far enough that the guy wouldn’t hear him and automatically assume he was coming to Katharine’s. He left the daisies on the front seat and sprinted back to her house, through her neighbors’ yards. He peered around the corner of her house. The side window was open, and there was no sign of the man. He was inside.

Hunter’s pulse quickened even more. No time to call the cops. He stepped up to the front door, noting the alarm company sticker in the front window. He didn’t want to do damage to her door, though, or alert the intruder to his entry, so he pulled a pick out of his pocket and jiggled it carefully in the lock until the latch gave. Then he stepped inside, holding his breath while hoping the alarm would take a few seconds before it went off.

There was silence through the little house. Maybe she hadn’t set the alarm. He shut the door noiselessly, then heard a low voice.

Good thing he hadn’t given up carrying. He whipped his gun out as he crept through the living room, past the empty kitchen and an office. He stopped when he got to the open door of the bedroom and leveled his guy on the dark man standing over her bed with a wicked-looking, slightly curved blade in his hand. In the open collar of his shirt, a gold pendant gleamed around his neck, something too small for Hunter to identify. A few feet from there, the curtain fluttered in the breeze coming through the open window.

“Drop it,” he said evenly, hoping Katharine stayed right where she was, lumped beneath her blankets.

The guy jumped, startled, clearly so absorbed in his own plans that he hadn’t paid any attention to the rest of the house. Good thing for Hunter, and for Katharine. Bad for the intruder.

From the corner of his eyes, Hunter saw movement on the pillow, but he couldn’t take his gaze off the intruder to look. He just hoped she stayed in her spot on the opposite side of the bed long enough for him to deal with this asshole.

“Do you really want to stop me?” the other man said in heavily accented English. “From killing this monster?”

“No monsters here, buddy. Drop the knife. Now.” He jerked his gun a little, indicating the rocking chair in front of the closet where the weapon wouldn’t be easily reachable again. More movement on the pillow. In his peripheral vision, it looked like a couple of snakes. That couldn’t be. He kept his gaze on the other man. “Do it.”

The other man’s dark eyes narrowed, his mouth tightening, expression furious. “It is my duty to kill the Medusa.”

Hunter thumbed off the safety on his gun. “If you don’t drop your weapon now, I’m going to put a very large hole in you. One you will not recover from.”

The dark guy muttered something Hunter couldn’t understand, something foreign, and, after a few more seconds, tossed the blade away, but not where Hunter had indicated. Instead, he threw it over the bed so it stuck in the plaster wall beside the mirror attached to her dresser. When Hunger glanced away from him to be certain the dagger hadn’t done any damage to Katharine, the intruder lunged out the open window.

“Dammit,” he muttered, striding to the window in time to see the back of the other guy vanishing around the neighbor’s porch a few dozen yards away. He pulled his head back inside and froze.

Those were snakes on the pillow, several of them.

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Are you enjoying a long holiday weekend, too? How are you using your extra day off?

Party Month

ElizabethAndrewsWrites.com

Okay, so maybe we won’t party all month, but I do feel better this weekend than last. There still is no cake in the house, but because it is pina colada day today, I got my blender out and made a pitcher, which was nice while I was working on one of my projects for vacation week.

That project kept me offline longer than I planned today, so this will be a quick post, with the pretty cake above and a snippet from Freeing Medusa (yes, I am still hashing out rewrites on it, but the pretty cover! I really do want to share but will wait until we have a release date.).

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Katharine sighed and shifter her shoulders, trying to loosen the tight muscles there. She turned her gaze over the crowd one last time, and her breath caught in her chest.

He was gorgeous, in a rugged sort of way. His nose had been broken at least once. A dimple dented his chin, and he had the brightest blue eyes she’d ever seen, black hair dipping over one of them. His green shirt stretched taut over strong shoulders and a wide chest, then tucked into a pair of jeans that fit nicely on narrow hips.

Her heartbeat quickened in anticipation.

Then he glanced up from his conversation with a shorter man and caught her eye. A slow smile curved his mouth as his gaze slid down the front of her, making her skin warm in anticipation, then back up, lingering on her mouth.

Her lips tingled hopefully.

She took a drink from the cup she still held. Whatever frozen thing Ramona had given her was melting and slushy, but she could still taste the bite of alcohol as it hit her tongue.

He moved away from the couple he was with, toward her, and her temperature rose a couple more degrees. His long-legged stride was confident and unhurried.

No, damn him, he made her wait, pausing once to greet someone along the way.

She tightened her grip on the stem of the plastic cup and took a quick breath.

He finally stopped about two steps away, and she got a whiff of cologne, something musky that made her mouth water.

Her nipples tightened inside her vest.

“Hi.” The low tone of his voice raised goosebumps on her arms despite the warm evening air.

“Hi.” She put out her right hand. “I’m Katharine Vardos.”

He smiled again, that slow curve of his lips that made heat spread in her belly, from the inside out, until her panties were damp when she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

Then he wrapped his long, strong fingers around hers. “Hunter Phelps. Nice to meet you.”

Heat shot up her arm from where he held her hand, rising into her face. “Are you a friend of Ramona’s?” She left her hand in his, her brain already imagining his long fingers elsewhere on her body. The mental images made her breathing quicken.

He shook his head, his thumb sliding across the back of her hand. “My buddy Lance is.” His bright gaze dropped to her mouth again.

She inhaled slowly. “Are you a dancer, Hunter?” Blue eyes she could drown in, she thought when he met her gaze again.

“Occasionally,” he said, tightening his hold on her hand. “Was that an invitation?”

“Yes.” Oh, please let him say yes, she thought.

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I need to put some serious thought into what kind of birthday cake we’ll be having in a couple of weeks. The one above is very pretty, but I’m leaning toward cheesecake, or maybe ice cream cake. What do you think?

Taking Stock

It’s that time of month again for me. Time to look at the month that is winding down and try to plan for the next. I didn’t get as much writing done as I wanted, though I did get quite a bit of reading done–it’s easier to dive into reading than into writing when your brain is toast, isn’t it? We’ve had a bit more stress at the day-job lately, at my level and beyond, and it doesn’t look like that’s going to change soon. So I’m trying to get myself into a different mindset for after-hours so I’ll be able to get more writing done. I’ll figure it out.

Before I go eke out some new words, I have a quick snippet for you today from Freeing Medusa. I do not have a release date on this yet to share, but I’m working on it.

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Katharine had had enough. Her skin tingled with the need for release again, and her heart beat too fast. She hadn’t seen any likely candidates. Even a desperate Medusa had standards.

Which meant it was time to go home and break out a couple more vibrators to get through tonight. Dammit.

She took another sip from her glass, smiling at Ramona from her post on the deck. Her friend danced with someone she’d just greeted enthusiastically just a little while ago. She hated to interrupt that, but it really was time to go home.

Katharine sighed and shifted her shoulders, trying to loosen the tight muscles there. She turned her gaze over the crowd one last time, and her breath caught in her chest.

He was gorgeous, in a rugged sort of way. His nose had been broken at least once. A dimple dented his chin, and he had the brightest blue eyes she’d ever seen, black hair dipping over one of them. His green shirt stretched taut over strong shoulders and a wide chest, then tucked into a pair of jeans that fit nicely on narrow hips.

Her heartbeat quickened in anticipation.

Then he glanced up from his conversation with a shorter man and caught her eye. A slow smile curved his mouth as his gaze slid down the front of her, making her skin warm in anticipation, then back up, lingering on her mouth.

Her lips tingled hopefully.

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https://www.elizabethandrewswrites.com/books

In my huge reading spree lately, I’m up to Creation in Death in my re-read of the In Death series. Almost to the current halfway point of the series. Roarke is yummy as always. Have you read the series? Where does Roarke rank on your list of fictional heroes?

Early Spring

The official season change is still two weeks away, but as I write this, it’s 74 degrees here according to my hubby’s weather station. Far from normal in our part of Pennsylvania this time of year, and it doesn’t bode well for me getting a decent snowstorm this year, so I guess I have to resign myself to an early spring. Hopefully that doesn’t also mean summer will be early, because that would really suck. It’s hot and humid here long enough normally, so the less we have of that, the better. But I guess if we’re getting spring early, that means I can start on garden clean-up earlier this year.

https://www.elizabethandrewswrites.com/

I made a huge vat of chili yesterday for hubs, and today, I have the crockpot on, filled with a vegetable curry for me. We’re heading into two busy weeks at the day-job, and I know there are going to be a couple of days this week when having dinner ready to reheat will be a huge help. I may throw stuff in the bread machine mid-week, too, so we have something fresh and yummy to go with the leftovers but won’t hog up time I won’t have.

Since I know the week is going to be busy, I need to get in my writing time today, so I have a quick snippet for you from the Freeing Medusa.

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When she woke at lunchtime, she felt so much better. She rolled onto her back, stretching cautiously. No more cramps.

Thank the Gods.

“Ah, you’re up.” Hunter’s footsteps sounded on the floor, startling her.

“Hi.” Her voice was rusty, she realized, pushing herself upright.

“Take it easy.” His weight made the side of the bed sink lower.

“I’m feeling better.” She tugged the blindfold up, blinking quickly in the bright midday light.

Hunter looked good. Just as good as he’d looked Friday night, she realized. His dark hair was mussed, as if he’d been dragging his fingers through it, and his bright blue eyes looked relieved.

He’d be glad to be rid of her.

Katharine swallowed, setting the blindfold on the night stand beside the bed.

“I’m glad to hear it.” He pushed a strand of hair away from her cheek. “You’re still pale.”

She shrugged, averting her gaze from his watchful eyes.

“You want to hit the shower? I have lunch downstairs.”

She blushed, thinking of her last shower…and his assistance. “Sure.” Then she could get the heck out of here.

He startled her by leaning close and brushing a kiss on her mouth. “Then we can talk about what we’re going to do next.”

Her gaze flew back to his, and her mouth dropped open. “‘We‘ don’t need to do anything,” she started.

Hunter put his fingers over her mouth. “Don’t. I don’t want to argue with you before we get lunch.”

She swallowed, but kept her mouth shut. She could tell him later that his temporary guardianship was over. She waited while he held her gaze for a long moment, resisting the urge to tell him now.

Finally, he nodded once and got to his feet. “I’ll have lunch ready when you come down.” He touched her cheek with one fingertip, then turned to leave the room.

Katharine shut her eyes for a second, then threw the blankets back. All through her shower, she kept replaying last night. Then their short conversation just now. He’d understand once she told him her cousins and their husbands would be her best bet for safety.

She dressed quickly after dragging a comb through her tangled hair. She wanted to gather her things together, but all she could find were her bathroom tote and her carry-on. She frowned, wondering what he’d done with her other things.

Downstairs. He must have left the other bag and her box downstairs.

She stuffed her things into the carry-on and the bathroom tote and carried them down with her, leaving them on the landing at the bottom of the steps. The living room was empty, so she turned back the hallway to the kitchen that she’d glimpsed last weekend.

Hunter was putting some chips in a bowl when she stepped into the room, and he smiled as he turned toward her. “Sit down.” He gestured to the table, where she saw he’d already set plates with sandwiches, as well as small deli containers of cole slaw and potato salad.

Swallowing, Katharine sat, stomach fluttering nervously.

“Don’t wait for me.” He set the chips on the table.

She picked up her sandwich and found tuna salad. Despite her anxiety, she realized she was starving. By the time he set a plate of fruit on the table and sat, she’d eaten half her sandwich.

Hunter smiled at her.

She swallowed the bite of tuna salad in her mouth. “Thank you.”

He shook his head and picked up half of his sandwich.

“I mean it. I really do appreciate what you’ve done for me.” She set the sandwich down. “I don’t want you to think I’m ungrateful. I know that Harvester would have killed me if you hadn’t gotten there at just the right time.” She tried to remember every point she needed to argue, everything that had occurred to her during her shower.

“Katharine.”

She lifted her gaze to his.

“Eat your lunch. We’ll figure out our next step after we’re done.” He smiled again.

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This book is the first thing on my publishing list for the year. I’m still working out editing, but once that’s settled, then I can start making concrete plans, like dates and showing you the gorgeous cover I’ve been holding onto.

So…what sort of start to the new month are you having? Weird weather where you are, too? Are you making the best of it? I’d love to hear from you!