by Sarah | Apr 15, 2014 | Book Release, Book Spotlight, Guest Authors, Reviews, Writing
*I was provided a copy of the book in exchange for an honest review. All opinions are mine*
I’ll be honest, I don’t do many reviews here because I’m flat out lazy. However, when I saw this anthology coming available and the request for reviews? I couldn’t wait to review it!! I signed up quick as the sign-ups were open.
The anthology was packed with some amazing stories that centered around my absolute favorite sport – Hockey. With a good mix of romance from sweet to burn your eyeballs spicy!!
Overall I gave the entire anthology 4 stars. As expected some authors just didn’t write in a style I liked, or the story didn’t grab me. I admittedly skimmed one or two, but those that grabbed me were powerful and well-written enough that I gave the whole shebang 4 stars.
So let me go over the standouts:
Hooking Hannah by Cassandra Carr & Cindy Carr – This story knocked it out of the park for me. It is my absolute favorite in the story. The romance was smoking, the hero (Scott) so amazing, and the heroine (Hannah) funny and strong. Their story was sweet and believable and they burned up the sheets – but what took this story over the edge to amazing for me was the scenes on the ice. The way the authors Carr wrote the hockey scenes was detailed and exact and I felt like I was back in my hometown of Buffalo listening to Rick Jeanneret call the play by play! It totally put me in the game and kept me there. Stunning writing.
Crashing the Boards by Jami Davenport – Most of this story takes place at a party on a boat and some naughty, kinky events. I was unfamiliar with Jami going into the story, but some of the sassy lines had me laughing and looking her up for more of her books. The interplay between the party crasher – Izzy, and the hockey player who thinks he’s onto her – Cooper, is excellent. Best part is when the truth is revealed and things blow up, the resolution isn’t perfect and immediate, but the way it’s handled is spot on and I love the potential.
Taking a Shot by Catherine Gayle – A sweet romance that touches on the cause behind the anthology – cancer. I loved the inclusion of a sweeter story and Katie’s crush-turned-romance was perfect. The best part for me was Jamie’s doubts that had nothing to do with Katie, but his own role in her future. It was superbly realistic and touching.
Heir Apparent by V.L. Locey – Honestly, I don’t usually read much M/M, but I’m glad I did in this case. V.L. has quite a way with telling a story. It was real easy to get inside the character’s heads. Cam, the living legend who was faltering in his game in more ways than one, and Jacobi – Cam’s new back-up goalie and long-time fan. The mix of May/December romance with a bit of the struggle with admitting who you really are was beautifully handled in this short story.
With these great stories, and the good cause, this is an excellent buy!!
*~*
| [amazon_link id=”B00JHP9BM2″ target=”_blank” container=”” container_class=”” ]Amazon[/amazon_link] | BN | ARe |
Blurb ~
It’s time to drop the gloves and fight! Support the Fight against cancer that is. This anthology of 8 brand new novellas is hot enough to melt the ice these players skate on. Featuring stories from popular New York Times & USA Today, Amazon, and Barnes & Noble bestselling authors, including Toni Aleo, Cassandra Carr, Cindy Carr, Jami Davenport, Catherine Gayle, Jaymee Jacobs, V.L. Locey, Bianca Sommerland, and Nikki Worrell.
New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author – Toni Aleo TANGLED IN THE LACES
In Tangled in the Laces, Karson King is on the fast track to the pros and Lacey Martin is coming back from a hard fight against cancer and is terrified of him but their love is too much to ignore. Will Karson prove that he will protect her heart at all costs, or will he leave Lacey to pick up the pieces of her life once again?
Cassandra Carr and Cindy Carr HOOKING HANNAH
When Hannah attends an all-star game, she doesn’t expect a hockey player of all people to turn her world upside down. Her sister is married to a player and Hannah never wanted that life. But Scott could change everything. For Scott’s part, he has to know the woman who stirred his blood with just a look, and once he does, he realizes he wants Hannah to be his forever. Now to convince her…
Jami Davenport CRASHING THE BOARDS (Seattle Sockeyes 1.5)
Professional party crasher, Izzy Maxwell, needs the cooperation of reluctant party guest Cooper Black, the team captain of Seattle’s new hockey team, but Cooper can’t get past his anger over the team’s relocation to Seattle. Can Izzy melt Cooper’s frozen heart or will this party crash along with her fledgling business?
Catherine Gayle TAKING A SHOT (Portland Storm 2.5)
Katie Weber has had a crush on Jamie Babcock for almost two years, since he joined her father’s hockey team, the Portland Storm as an eighteen-year-old rookie. When cancer takes her health, her hair, and even her friends, she can’t bear to go to senior prom…until Jamie intervenes.
Jaymee Jacobs A VALUABLE TRADE
Bryan’s life gets turned upside down when he gets traded to the Dallas Comets, and things get even messier when he meets Georgiana, the Director of Team Services. He’s got a lot of work to do to prove his worth to his new team, but Georgiana’s sure he’ll prove to be a valuable trade.
V.L. Locey HEIR APPARENT
Superstar Cam Evans is fighting to climb out of a slump that`s growing worse with each day of living in denial. Fresh from the minors, Jacobi Neal is hungry for this chance to play back-up for the legendary goalie. Can two men battle each other, their inner demons, and the sizzling attraction building between them?
Bianca Sommerland BLIND PASS (The Dartmouth Cobras 0.5)
Nothing could stop Tim Rowe, the assistant coach of the Dartmouth Cobras, from falling in love with Madeline, but love alone can’t satisfy every need. Sometimes, to reach the goal, you have to take the chance with a . . . Blind Pass.
Nikki Worrell – CAPTAIN, MY CAPTAIN (Prequel to Scorpions Series)
Keith Lambert is the captain of the Flyers—until he’s not. To everyone’s shock, he’s traded to the San Diego Scorpions. As if that’s not bad enough, Phoebe, his girlfriend of two years, decides she doesn’t love him enough to follow.
All alone in a new town, Keith is drawn to Kelly, his take out delivery girl. When she shows up at ice girl tryouts, he’s lost. She’s all he can see. Can he convince her to forget her past and take a chance on him or is he destined to be alone in a new town a little bit longer?
**Proud Supporters of Hockey Fights Cancer.
*~*
Excerpts (see attached document)
-from Heir Apparent by V.L. Locey
I padded along beside him with no reply for his comment. He was right. Everyone knew his face in “The Burgh.” The longer we walked, the more I accepted that I would freeze to death. We made two complete laps in total silence. Cam stopped to drop his empty coffee cup into a trash can. We stood under a streetlight, our breath twin clouds of steam hovering in front of us.
“You have to understand that this…I don’t know how to go about…shit.” He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his parka. Again, we started walking.
“Look, man, if I knew for sure what we were dealing with, maybe I could help a little better,” I said. A biracial couple hurried past us. I burrowed into my flimsy coat until all that stuck out of the collar were my eyes.
“I have a daughter. She’s a senior in high school.”
“Awesome,” I mumbled into my coat. My forehead was extremely cold. Like ice cream eaten too fast cold. We kept walking that block.
“She is awesome.” I peeked over at him. I wished he would drop that fucking hood so I could see his face. “And not aware of how things were with her mother and me.”
“How things were, or how you were pretending they were?” I chanced it. What the hell? He would either slug me, call me a motherfucker, or stalk off. Whatever happened it had to be better than roaming around this fucking city block when the temperature was a balmy four degrees. “I mean, that is what you’re dancing around, right? That you’re so far back in the closet you just discovered Narnia? Why not just admit that much to yourself before we both succumb to fucking hypothermia.”
I should have known that Cameron Evans was a man of action. I mean, I followed his career all though my school years. He was fast. My back was against the wall under that old clock before I could register the shove. Cam then got all sorts of in my face. I did not raise my hands. His angry exhalation was flavored with vanilla.
“Are you calling me a queer?” I shrugged one shoulder.
“I call them as I see them. Now, you can either step off or you can kiss me.” I threw the challenge out without a second thought. I stared into the shelter of his hood, finding his dark eyes in the shadows. They flickered down to my blue lips. “Whatever you decide to do, do it fast. I’m cold, tired, and hungry.”
He did. He captured my mouth with a kiss so aggressive my teeth ground into my lips. Yeah. This was it. This was what I had been pushing him to do…hoping he would do.
*~*
Links
Website: http://www.seducedbythegame.com
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/21399240-seduced-by-the-game?from_search=true
*~*
Giveaway
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by Sarah | Apr 14, 2014 | Guest Authors, Top Ten Tuesday, Writing
As a writer of historical fiction, I feel as if I’m constantly hopping back through time to visit the settings of my books (lately I’ve been spending a lot of my time in Sherwood Forest). So it seems natural that when I sat down to write a “Top Ten Tuesday” post, era-hopping came to mind.
Many of us have our favorite time periods. Mine might surprise you. Let’s journey back … back … back to …
London, England, during the blitz: sure, I know it was dangerous and noisy with those bombs crashing down all over the place. But you have to admire the spirit of determined defiance. And just think of the camaraderie found sitting in a bleak basement with the neighbors while the sky – and your life – falls around your ears, singing songs about Dover and longing for a cuppa …
Victorian England: A time of plenty – for the privileged classes. The rest of us keep company with the orphans and match-sellers starving in the streets. Then again, these are the people who more or less invented our concept of Christmas festivities. And it’s the birthplace of London Steampunk, no? Can’t be all bad …
Concord, Massachusetts during the nineteenth century: Oh, to breathe that rarified air and share a conversation with the likes of Ralph Waldo Emerson and Louisa May Alcott! Perhaps I’ll be fortunate enough to cadge a walk in the woods at Walden Pond with Henry David Thoreau. Sheer bliss, but it’s obvious I’ll need a moniker made up of three names before I can fit in. Laura Rose Strickland, maybe …
St. John’s, Newfoundland during the eighteenth century: A cold, rocky coast, an abundance of fish and the cleanest air in the world. It may be a hard life, but it holds the priceless promise of starting anew. I have all I need in the strength of my back and the skill of my hands, with which to build a home. Heck, my ancestors took root here and so can I …
Tudor, England: No, I’m not attracted to the scandal or the treachery. And it seems horribly easy to get tossed into the Tower of London or earn a date with the headsman. As for Elizabeth the First with her white pancake makeup and her bald head – frankly the woman terrifies me. But oh, the music! I’ll go just for that …
Medieval Europe during the plague: I know, I know, there were rats. And fleas. And that pesky Bubonic thing. But just think: all of us who are descended from Europeans can take pride in the fact that our ancestors survived the dreaded epidemic. If they hadn’t, we wouldn’t be here …
Sherwood Forest during the thirteenth/fourteenth century: This is familiar ground for me. I’ve already written three novels and a short story set here and I think I know the territory pretty well. How can I resist actually setting foot on that blessed soil and walking for a while beneath those magical trees? I just might meet the descendants of Robin Hood …
Ireland during the Viking age: Not everyone knows the Vikings settled some of the great cities in Ireland including Dublin, Waterford and Wexford. There, the fierce invaders elbowed aside the Celtic residents, intermarried and eventually settled peaceably enough to beget a strain of flaxen-haired, blue-eyed Irishmen and women. Hmm, I wonder what it would really be like to give those horned warriors a warm welcome …
Iron Age Britain: I think my heart is here first and foremost. Give me a round-house on the Scottish coast overlooking the wild, western sea. People in this place weave enchantment into their music and magic is a fact of life. The gods are alive in every tree and rock, and Christianity has not yet appeared over the eastern horizon …
Stonehenge: Need I say more? Just the name evokes a sacred atmosphere and a mystical way of life. It’s sunrise on the summer solstice. The world holds its breath as knowledge meets belief and light cleaves stone. Here, I want to stand …
Well, we’ve journeyed our way back some distance to where the last remnants of the ice age breathe cold vapor over the land and the clean air makes it impossible to imagine pollution. Hope the time machine works for us on the way back. Then again, maybe not …
*~*
| [amazon_link id=”B00HJEHOFE” target=”_blank” container=”” container_class=”” ]Amazon[/amazon_link] | The Wild Rose Press |
Champion of Sherwood – blurb:
When Gareth de Vavasour, nephew of the Sheriff of Nottingham, is captured by the outlaws of Sherwood Forest and held for ransom, he knows he will be fortunate to escape with his life. Amid the magic and danger that surround him, he soon realizes his true peril lies in the beautiful dark eyes of Linnet, the Saxon healer sent to tend his wounds.
Granddaughter of Robin Hood, Linnet has always known she is destined to become a guardian of Sherwood Forest, along with her sister and a close childhood companion. She believes her life well settled until the arrival of Gareth. Then all her loyalties are tested even as her heart is forced to choose between love and the ties of duty, while Sherwood declares its own champion.
Author web page: www.laurastricklandbooks.com
*~*
Champion of Sherwood excerpt:
“Champion.”
He spun once more. A man stood behind him, wreathed in white mist pure as the moonlight. Gareth reached for a weapon he no longer wore.
“Peace,” the man said.
“Who are you? How come you here?”
“I am the spirit of this place. Some call me the Green Man. Others call me Robin Hood.”
“Robin Hood is long dead.” Gareth had heard the tales. Who had not?
“Aye, long dead,” the man agreed, “as are many who dwell here. This is our bastion, our refuge, a place of faith and strength.”
“What do you want with me?” Surely, and surely, he was back asleep on his tether, and dreaming.
“Nay, lad, you are not dreaming.”
“Can you hear my thoughts?” What madness was this?
“I ask of you, young man, only one thing, one boon, one favor if you would survive this night.”
“Of course I will survive. This is but darkness, and trees, and moonlight.”
The man waved one of his hands. A creature appeared beside him, a pure white wolf with its hackles raised. Another subtle movement and he stood flanked on the other side by a great, white hart, its sides streaming mist. The trees overhead tossed their branches and Gareth felt the power gather, sharp and vital, around this being who faced him. Fear such as he had never known — not even when awaiting the arrival of his father with the strap — engulfed him.
He said, “What do you seek of me? What boon, what bidding?”
“I ask of you but one promise, that you should follow what is in your heart.” The man smiled again. “Does not a true champion, always follow his heart?”
*~*
by Sarah | Apr 13, 2014 | Books, Holiday, Tuesday Tales, Writing
Welcome back to Tuesday Tales! This weeks prompt is Savage.
This is quite sometime later in the (almost complete) Stalled Independence story. Clay and Regan have been dating for a couple of weeks, known each other about a month. Turns out that despite their very disparate backgrounds they have quite a bit in common.
This scene involves the hero, Clay and his unscheduled (but always welcome) visitor. Calliope (aka Calli) is Clay’s sister, and she’s going to make an appearance in the Thanksgiving story and if I continue my holiday stories in 2015 (i.e. if the publisher takes them on) – she’ll have her own story then. In the meantime, she’s a sister who’s made an unscheduled, hurried run to New York to see her brother:
A honking horn pulled Clay from his work. He wiped the grease from his hands as he withdrew his head out from under the car hood. After he’d waved off his mechanics, he headed toward the doors. Before he got there he spotted a bright white cowboy hat and blonde hair through the glass and grinned.
He threw open the door. “Calliope!”
“Hey big brother!” His sister spun around and wrapped him in a savage hug. “Damn, I missed you something fierce.”
“Missed you too, baby sis.” Clay stepped back and resumed wiping off his hands. Calliope was only ten months younger than he was, and the most fiercely independent of the bunch. Even so, a random visit near the end of May wasn’t typical for her. “So are you going to tell my why you’re really here? Or do I have to call Mama?”
“Mama doesn’t know, so it doesn’t matter if you call.” Calli patted his cheek. “And my reasons are mine.”
“Fat chance I’m letting you leave it at that.” Clay shoved his rag into his back pocket. “Let me get cleaned up while you throw your things upstairs. We’ll go have lunch.”
“I’ll take you up on the food, but not the conversation.” Calli hauled her suitcase out of the trunk. “I’d much rather hear about the girl making you all flustered.”
“You’ll get better than that. You’ll get to meet her. She’s working today.”
“Oh goody. Then be quick about it.” Calli didn’t give him another look as she traipsed up the side stairs to his apartment.
Clay shook his head and went inside to let the guys know he was heading for lunch. One of them decided to take off for lunch too, while his shop manager, Chris said he’d stay behind to finish the Ellsworth’s car. Clay made fast work of scrubbing his arms and face. On his way out, he dropped his hat on his head.
Calli was already waiting outside with a shit-eating grin already in place. “So she’s cute, what else do you know about her?”
“Why couldn’t you stay down south?” He shook his head and ignored her question, choosing instead to head to the crosswalk. “Don’t you have anything better to do than harass me? Like, oh, I don’t know—working or having a life of your own?”
She blew a large raspberry and turned her thumb down. “Both in the toilet, and no I don’t have anything better to do. I have to keep an eye on you. After all, you haven’t had a girl since that uptight girl, what was her name?”
“Casey.” Clay grumbled and rubbed the back of his neck. When he’d first come to Rochester he’d met Casey at school. They’d dated for almost four years before he’d realized she’d been sleeping around behind his back from the second he’d decided to leave RIT to buy the shop. “Why on earth bring her up?”
“To point out that your head isn’t always screwed on right when it comes to women.”
“Well that taught me a lot, and Regan is different.” He hoped.
“Well, I’ll see about that.”
“Myrtle loves her,” Clay protested. “What else can you do?”
“Myrtle’s a good gauge, but I’m your sister.” Calli dragged him across the street wen the light turned. He was beginning to regret suggesting they go to lunch.
“Be nice.”
“I always am. That’s part of my southern charm, you know. Mama didn’t raise no fools.”
“She raised you.” He laughed when she shoved him aside. “What?”
“Jerk!” She hopped up the three steps to the diner door and let herself in.
Clay followed, still chuckling as he stepped inside the diner. His amusement faded when he noticed for the first time just how crowded the diner was. So much for Calli getting to know Regan at all right then. Maybe it was just as well, it wasn’t fair to corner her at work with his sister. No one deserved that.
Calli waved him to the counter where she’d managed to snag two stools for them to sit at. She grinned and scanned the restaurant. “Well?”
“Be a little more obvious, why don’t you?” When she stood, he gripped her shoulder and pulled her back into her seat. “I was kidding.”
“I wasn’t.”
“I don’t see her.”
Right as he spoke, Regan burst out from the kitchen with a large tray full of food. The way she held it blocked him from her view, but he recognized her instantly. Against his better judgment, he tracked her path all the way to the large corner booth.
“Oooh, she’s adorably scrumptious. Are you sure she plays for your team?”
“Back off, sis.” Clay was surprised at how harsh he snarled the words. “I mean, I’m sure.”
“You are smitten. So tell me about her.”
*~*
Hope you enjoyed it! Click on the Tuesday Tales badge to see more excellent entries!!
*~*
by Sarah | Apr 12, 2014 | Books, Holiday, WeWriWa, Writing
Welcome back to the Weekend Writing Warriors!
Skipping forward. Tag just caught Michaela napping at her desk. Unbeknownst to him, she was having naughty dreams of him. However, he still has something to laugh about:
He covered his mouth with a hand while leaning against the file cabinets lining the wall.
“I’m awake,” she defended before he could even speak. “It was just a cat nap.”
“Of course you are.” His snort burst from behind his hand and he let out a good loud bark of a laugh. “You have a really cute snore.”
“I wasn’t—I…” Unfortunately, his laughter was contagious and she found herself joining him before she could form a good argument.
*No creative editing used this week.
*~*
| Amazon | SCP | BN | ARe |
Michaela O’Keefe is in over her head with her restaurant, The Midway. Her ad for an assistant manager brings Owen “Tag” Montague to her doorstep. With an impeccable resume and dozens of letters of recommendation, she has little choice but to give him a chance. Ten years her junior, Tag sets her long-dead libido humming, but she gave up on love and her instincts on men years ago.
Tag has had a crush on his new boss since his youth, but he’s determined to prove he can do the job. Still, he can’t resist the urge to make her blush down to her toes as often as possible. He knows her rough past in life and love makes it hard to trust, and he’s wary of crossing the line he so desperately wants to.
Just when they manage to figure out how to work and play together, Michaela’s ex does all he can to destroy their budding love. When push comes to shove Michaela’s inability to give Tag the benefit of the doubt might destroy everything.
Learning to trust herself again is the hardest lesson Michaela will ever have to learn – and by the time she does, it may be too late for love.
*~*
Head back on over to the Weekend Writing Warriors to read many more wonderful offerings!
by Sarah | Apr 9, 2014 | Character Interview, Guest Authors, Thursday Tell All, Writing
Hi. This is Jane Austeen, and welcome to Proud but Not Prejudiced. Today I’m here with Amy Evans, an animated redhead in her early thirties. Amy is dressed rather unusually for our show in a full-length classic black gown. But I must say, Amy, that off-the-shoulder style and deep plunging back really show off your gorgeous tan. I take it you’ve spent a lot of time out in the sun lately?
AMY: Thanks for inviting me today, Jane. Yes, we moved from Cincinnati down to Providenciales this summer. No more snow for this gal. And you-all know what they say: when you’re in the islands, live like the islanders.
JANE: So Amy, tell our audience what you were doing in Cincinnati.
AMY: To tell the truth, Jane, I was a stripper. Oh, should I have said adult entertainer or one of those other fancy terms? Well, whatever you call it, I showed men my titties for tips.
JANE: Um, wow. I don’t think I’ve ever interviewed a stripper before. I’m not sure what to ask.
AMY: Oh, I don’t do that anymore. Walt hit a big lottery and his wife agreed to a divorce for half which wasn’t so unexpected ‘cause they hadn’t been in love for a long time. And then we met and he invited me to go on a trip with him, and the rest, as they say, is history.
JANE: So a romantic road trip led to your happy relationship?
AMY: Well, I’m not sure how romantic it was, especially at first. Walter was a perfect gentleman, damnit. He seemed to like my son JG better than me. But Aunt Morgan said be patient, he liked me fine. And it turned out she was right. She usually is.
JANE: So you called your Aunt Morgan for advice in matters of the heart?
AMY: Oh, no. She was there too. In fact, to tell the truth, Walt loves her almost as much as he loves me.
JANE (with an uneasy laugh): You mean loves her in a platonic sort of way, of course.
AMY: No, not really. Aunt Morgan is smokin’ hot, and she’s fascinating to talk to. And Walt is real smart, loves history and all that stuff.
JANE: My goodness. Your aunt must be quite a woman.
MORGAN: Thank you.
JANE: Wait, who said that?
AMY: Oh, that was Aunt Morgan.
JANE: You mean like she’s a multiple personality or something?
AMY: Naw, nothing fancy like that, although it is a bit complicated. She’s a real person except that she lives in here with me. Ask her something.
JANE: Hello, Aunt Morgan. How long have you lived there with Amy?
MORGAN: I came to live with Amy when she was six. I’d been living with her grandmother, but she was in the hospital dying when Amy came to visit. Seemed like a good choice, and she’s turned out to be my favorite special niece ever.
AMY: Why thanks, Aunt Morgan. That’s a real nice thing to say.
JANE: So I take it you’ve been doing this for a long time, Aunt Morgan. So how old are you anyway?
MORGAN: You know a woman doesn’t like to talk about her age, particularly a woman like me.
JANE: Our audience is the soul of discretion. You can tell us.
MORGAN: They probably won’t believe it anyway. But the truth is, Jane, I’m more than 1500 years old.
JANE: 1500 years? I’m not too good with math, but that was long before Columbus. Were you a Native American?
MORGAN: Of course not. I’m British. A queen in my first life. In fact, you’ve heard of me. And my half brother Arthur was a king. I’m sure you’ve heard of him.
JANE: Um, King . . . Arthur? Morgan? You mean, you’re that Morgan? Morgan le Fay?
AMY: And Aunt Morgan told me that this gown was way better than anything Guinevere ever owned. That’s why I wore it.
(at this point the network interrupted the broadcast, so we’re not sure what happens next)
*~*~*~*~*
Strange Bedfellows has 4 first-person narrators. In this excerpt, Amy’s 11-year-old son JG is speaking.
Sava pats my hand. “Now tell me what’s so epic about Aunt Morgan, JG.”
“One day, Walt asked her a question directly, and she answered him just like an ordinary person would. So although I’ve been around her eleven years more than him, he’d already figured out that she was like a different person. So I got my nerve up and asked her like who she really was, and she answered me too. Said, ‘Hold that thought.’
“Then while we were driving down here she started telling us her life story. How she was born back in the fifth century in Cornwall which I looked up and it’s a part of Great Britain. And how her father was a duke who was killed fighting against the king who then married her mother and then guess what! She’s Morgan le Fay! The evil witch from the King Arthur story only she’s not really evil although she really is a witch. And somehow she learned how to jump from person to person so she wouldn’t die but we haven’t gotten to that part of the story yet and now she’s living inside my mom!”
I got a little loud as I told that last part and Sava holds a finger to my lips. “Shhh. Don’t tell everybody, doofus.” She’d picked that up from Marcus, but coming from her it seemed, well, friendlier. “Let me see if I got this straight. Your mom’s cool enough to sunbathe in the nude and she’s a stripper who trusts you enough to leave you at home at night all by yourself and she’s traveling with a really nice guy who isn’t sleeping with her because you haven’t said it’s okay, AND she has the real Morgan le Fay living in her head, and you somehow think I might not want to be your girlfriend anymore because of that?” She does this real exaggerated show like she’s scratching her head. “Let me see. Um, gee, I don’t know.” She crosses her arms and shakes her head sadly. “Marcus is right. You are a doofus.”
At least I think that’s what she said. I sort of lost track of everything after the word ‘girlfriend.’
*~*~*~*~*
| [amazon_link id=”B00ISC1RHC” target=”_blank” container=”” container_class=”” ]Amazon[/amazon_link] |
BLURB
Commentators claim that Politics makes Strange Bedfellows. Politics? Hah. I heap scorn on such an ill-considered opinion. For you and I both know: it is love that makes the strangest bedfellows.
Here. Let me give you just one example. A strange tale that begins with . . .
Walter—a loveable middle-aged accounting nerd. Crappy job, boss from hell, loveless marriage—who gets a do-over when he wins a big lottery. He hits the road only to find . . .
Amy—Sweet, Southern gal stuck in Cincinnati, stripping for a living because it pays better than Wal-Mart. Seems an unlikely candidate to do-over with, but stranger things have happened. It might work out, except she’s got this crazy . . .
Aunt Morgan—everybody has a crazy aunt, but this one is special. Engaging, seductive even . . . how old is she, anyway? And how can she always be around?
*~*~*~*~*
Rusty Rhoad grew up on the South Carolina coast, practiced chemical engineering near Houston, Texas for 32 years, and now writes humorous Arthurian fiction “full time.” “I love characters who see the world with their tongues firmly in their cheeks,” Rhoad writes. “Life is too often serious; fiction should always have a place for the offbeat, the quirky, and the sardonic.”
Rhoad’s first novel, Return from Avalon (and Points West), was released by Soul Mate Publishing in July 2013; his second novel, Strange Bedfellows, was published in March 2014. A third book, Avalon, South Carolina, is due out this summer.
*~*~*~*~*
Blog: http://allthingswordsblog.wordpress.com/
by Sarah | Apr 6, 2014 | Books, Holiday, Tuesday Tales, Writing
Welcome back to Tuesday Tales! This weeks prompt is to be inspired by Lemon.
I’d like to re-introduce you to Regan from my Independence Day story set in the wonderful little town of Lake Point (where Tag & Michaela live). I first introduced her months ago when her car stalled out and died…and she was rescued by a cowboy. At this point in the story Regan has managed to get herself a job and a place to stay.
She’s crushing on her rescuer, Clay, a little bit…but her past experiences hold her back. Myrtle (Tag’s aunt) is her boss…and meddling in her life as much as she does anyones:
Regan rushed into The Diner so fast she forgot to let go of the door and got yanked backwards. Her finger smarted and she cursed under her breath. “Crap, damn, ow.”
“Well there you are, sunshine.” Myrtle set two full plates down on the bar for the waiting customers. “I was getting worried about you.”
“Sorry. Sorry.” Regan shook out her hand and shed her coat. “The alarm in the apartment didn’t go off.”
“How did your first night in the new place go?”
Thanks to Myrtle, Regan had found a nice, small, and furnished apartment to rent that wasn’t too expensive. Although it was someone’s finished basement, she had a front and back door, a kitchen and bathroom. Her bedroom and living room were the same room, but there was a large walk-in closet that would have been great if she still had all her clothes. “It was okay.”
“Just okay?” Myrtle handed Regan her apron as she passed. “You were all excited to not be sleeping in the motel. Is the apartment not comfortable?”
“No. It’s great. The bed is stupid-comfortable.” Regan tied off the apron and scanned the room. Lucky for her there weren’t a lot of customers yet. Her guilt was mildly alleviated that she hadn’t left Myrtle in the lurch.
“So?”
“Oh, right. It’s just—I’ve never stayed anywhere alone.” From living with her parents as a child, onto her roommate in the dorms her one semester in college, and then right in with Tony, she’d always lived with someone else. “I thought it was just the hotel, but I’m just not used to being alone.”
“Everything is much louder and quieter all at once that first time.” Myrtle squeezed her shoulder. “I know how it feels.”
“I’m sure I’ll get used to it eventually. It’s just weird.” Weird, creepy, scary, whatever one would call it. Either way, Regan had tossed and turned all night. Without any sleep the night before, she feared she’d end up dragging her feet all shift.
“Be a dear and cut those lemons for me, would you?” Myrtle hacked away at a head of lettuce behind the counter. “And how is Clay?”
“What?” Regan stopped with the knife barely through the rind. “Why would you ask me that? I mean, what?”
Myrtle chuckled. “Sorry. Just you two seem awful chummy.”
“He’s been nice.” Regan focused on cutting the lemon. Sure, she found Clay attractive, I mean what girl wouldn’t drool over a tall, dark, and handsome cowboy straight out of a movie. One with brains, and gorgeous forest-green eyes, and…what the hell are you doing? Regan’s shoulders sagged and she focused all her attention on the lemon in front of her. That lemon was far safer than thoughts of Clay. Last thing she needed was a man. After Tony, she’d be find never even being friends with another guy.
“Regan?” Myrtle’s hand rested on her shoulder. “What is it, child?”
Myrtle’s attentions made Regan aware of the tear on her cheek. Regan hooked her finger and wiped it away with her knuckle to avoid lemon juice anywhere near her eye. She cleared her throat and tried to come up with a good explanation. After everything, it seemed silly to miss Tony, he was the reason she’d left.
“You miss your family?”
“No.” Regan closed her eyes, cursing her frank admission. Years ago she’d given up hope of her family caring anymore. They’d disowned her when she’d left college, or rather flunked out. She sighed. “I don’t know. My head is a mess.”
“Your head? Or your heart?”
“Yes.”
“Must have been tough leaving everything.”
She hadn’t had much to leave, but it still kept her up at night. The effort it had taken to leave had been herculean. “I just don’t know if I did the right thing.”
“Sometimes the right thing to do is the hardest thing to do.” Myrtle tossed the lettuce into a bin, and started in on the carrots. “I’ve been there a few times in my life.”
Regan had little doubt Myrtle meant what she said. “I guess.”
“You happy here?”
“Here?” Regan glanced around the small, neat café. Only a few tables were full, but she already knew all their names. Despite being in New York, which she’d heard was full of rude cities and people, this place had a small town feel like where she’d lived in Illinois. “I think so. I don’t really know it that well, yet.” Why she’d made it conditional, she didn’t know. Instinct, maybe. Instinct to keep guarded.
“You know their names?” Myrtle shook her peeler toward the occupied booths.
“Yes.”
“Then you know it well enough. Lake Point is a good little town. Once you know the lie-abouts like them, you’re in.” Myrtle paused to wink before she resumed her attention to the carrots. “I think sometimes you just know in your heart when you’re home, and you can relax.”
“What if you don’t trust your heart?” Though she’d kept her words quiet, Regan could still feel Myrtle’s strong gaze on her. Heat flamed her cheeks and she gathered the cut lemons into the bucket. “I should go put these in the cooler.”
*~*
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