#SweetSaturday: At the Darrow

Hi Saturday Samplers!
It's been an exciting week for me because my new romantic comedy, Afterglow, released on Monday. India's best friend Eva is forever getting them both into awkward situations, one of which results in the them doing community service:

It was, for Eva and me, the first night of our community service. She came over to get me after school. “Ready to do penance?” she asked. She had dressed for penance, a black t-shirt
and black jeans, the Eva-version of sack cloth.
The Darrow Street Mission’s dining room had cinder block walls that were painted an alarming shade of tennis ball yellow. The room smelled of burnt coffee and something I would have identified, if pressed, as canned peas.
“Charming,” said Eva, taking survey. “They certainly know how to enhance the whole dining experience.”
We were met in the industrial strength kitchen by an industrial sized woman named Elba. “You the convicts?” Elba asked, her dark eyes dancing over us with something like amusement.
“No,” Eva said and I said “Yes.”
“Uh huh,” Elba folded her ebony arms. “What do you know about rice?”
“Rice?” I asked. “You mean, how to cook rice?”
“What do you think I mean?” Elba asked, sounding slightly annoyed.
“She’s the one who cooks.” Eva cocked a finger at me.
“I know how. To cook rice,” I offered.
“Okay. You do the rice.” Elba turned her stare on Eva. “And you clean out the storage room.”

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Afterglow Blurb:

India Othmar isn’t having a great year. Her husband of thirty-one years has left her for their son’s ex-girlfriend. Her grown children have moved home. Her best friend Eva seems determined to set her up with every oddball in their small Massachusetts town. And her most significant relationship these days is with Cherry Garcia.

But India is more resilient than she thinks. And though it will take a broken arm, a lawn littered with engine parts, some creative uses for shoes, and a scandalous love affair of her own, she learns, much to her surprise, that her life hasn’t ended with her marriage.

Buy Links

ChampagneBooks:http://champagnebooks.com/shop/index.php?route=product/product&product_id=628

Amazon: https://authorcentral.amazon.com/gp/books/book-detail-page?ie=UTF8&bookASIN=B00AXUUG74&index=default

ARE: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-afterglow-1039661-149.html

#SweetSaturdaySamples Blueberry out take.

Hi Sweet Samplers! My women's literary novel, Blueberry Truth, is coming to print soon so I thought it might be fun to do an out take today. Earlier drafts of the book included some of Blueberry's voice. These were later edited out to smooth out the narrative and make it an easier read. Blue's voice, though, helped me to capture her as a character and helped her to come through in later versions.

This is from a very early draft, one of the first things Blue "said" to me. 

   My granny the one who call me Truth. Ma call me Blueberry because that what she like to eat when she have me. I live with my Ma and Julio and Frostie before she gone off to Florida and I have to go to Granny house and she change my name. No baby be called Blueberry is what she say. I say there no baby here. I am seven years old, old enough that I go to the store by my own self. Granny say I seven years old with a mouth. That be Ma fault, she say. Ma ought to have said me some manners, but Ma run off with  trouble, is what Granny say. 

            Teacher at the new school show us to write cursive, but my letters come in crooked. Child write crooked, teacher tells Granny. Uncle Dee say it cause I stupid. I ain’t stupid, I say. You a little bitch like your Ma, he say. She can’t write good neither. I throw a cup at him, hit him in the nose and make it bleed. Uncle Dee got a good job that pay twenty dollars an hour, Granny say. Don’t you be messing with him. She make me sit in the closet. One hour for being disrespect. One hour, but when I see the clock she let me out it been one hour and one half. I can tell the time. I ain’t stupid.

 Beanie and Mac MacKenzie have led charmed lives. They both have jobs they love: he’s a pediatric cardiologist; she’s a teacher at a school for troubled children. They’ve recently bought a big house on a quiet Albany, New York street only blocks from where they grew up together. The only thing missing are the children with which they’d envisioned filling that house.
  Enter seven-year-old Blueberry Truth Crowley, a fiercely independent child whose life has been anything but charmed. When Blue ends up in Beanie’s classroom, their two worlds collide.
     Blueberry Truth is the story of that collision and of the commitment and love it takes to make not a baby, but a family.

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#Sweet Saturday Samples. Afterglow is coming in January

It's nearly time to cue up the lights and break out the bubbly.  Christmas will be here before you can say 'Is that you, Frosty?'  And in January, just as your settling in for a long winter's nap my new romantic comedy, Afterglow will arrive. Perfect for a long winter's read.


Here's a little sneak peak at Afterglow, the story of a woman of a certain age who learns that love can bring happiness  the second time around. In this scene, hero Mitch makes his feelings for heroine India clear.

I was nearly too embarrassed to face Mitch. Upending a suture kit had been bad enough, but this… I mean, here we were having a friendly dinner. And here was Red, turning it into something sordid. I did face Mitch though. I owed him an apology.

“That bit about…You’re not a boy,” I said.

            Mitch smiled. “Nice of you to acknowledge that.”

            “And Red Lansing is an idiot. An idiot who jumps to conclusions.” I could feel my face go hot. Mitch was grinning at me. “I guess it is kind of funny,” I said.

            “I don’t think it’s funny at all,” Mitch took my hand and kissed the place where the cast had been. Which, had I wanted to delude myself, could have been misconstrued as a friendly kiss. The next kiss, though, was a direct hit. On the lips, with feeling, and there was no misconstruing that at all.

            Mitch took my chin in his hand. “I’ve wanted to do that ever since you showed up in my ER,” he said.

            “I don’t know what to say,” I stuttered out.

            “Maybe you should think about it,” Mitch said. “I’ll go home and you can think about it.” He fished his car keys from his pocket and let himself out the door. Halfway down the stairs he stopped and turned. “Don’t think too long,” he said. And then he was gone.

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#Sweet Saturday Samples: The Whisper of Time is here!

Hi Saturday Samplers!
My time-travel romance novella, The Whisper of Time, is now available for e-book. It's set in Vermont, land of maple trees, cows and green hills. In fall, as the leaves put on a crimson and gold display,  the smell of cider perfumes the air.

Here's a recipe for Hot spiced cider from Cooks.com

HOT SPICED APPLE CIDER 1/2 gallon apple cider 12 cloves 3 cinnamon sticks 1 c. orange juice 1/2 c. lemon juice Heat apple cider. Add all ingredients. Allow the mixture to simmer for half hour or more. Serve this in mugs on a chilly night.Makes 12 servings.

And here's a little bit of The Whisper of Time: when heroine Gwynn first finds out about hero Slate. Kick back, take a sip of cider and enjoy!

“I don’t know the first thing about goats,” I said to Vera.
“Why, sure you do. You’re an animal doctor.” Vera put a reassuring arm around my shoulder. “Besides, you won’t have to go it alone. Slate will be here to help you out.”
“Slate?” I couldn’t be sure what or who Slate was. A blank chalk board came to mind.
“Slate Peck.” Vera pointed to a small cabin at the far end of the meadow. “He’s a goatherd.”
“A goatherd?” I didn’t know goatherds existed in Vermont. Or in this century, for that matter. I might have been fuzzy on details, but the name Peck did ring a bell. “Jebidiah Peck,” I puzzled aloud. “He owned the farm?”
“Slate is Jeb’s grandson. Jeb willed a parcel of land to Slate, so you’re neighbors! He’s been running the place all by his lonesome, bless his soul. Of course, goats don’t pay the bills like they used to, so Slate also manages the Agway down to East Rupert.” Vera nodded as though the Agway job were a life achievement. “And he knows more about goats than anyone else around, so you go ahead and ask him about anything.”
“He lives over there?” I wasn’t convinced I wanted a strange man living so close by the isolated farmhouse, even if he was a goat expert.



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#SweetSat Meet Nikki

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I introduced P-Town's hero, Marco, last week. This week, meet the heroine, Nikki. Here's how she opens the book:

I did not blow up the Mona Lisa. Not only did I not blow up the Mona Lisa--an old leaker  of a boat whose blowing up could be construed as a favor to the aptly named Rusty Cook--I did not blow up any part of Rusty’s marina. My brothers will, of course, say otherwise. They had quite the laugh at my expense over coffee at Ella’s Place.

Rusty had been on the lookout for a boat for me. It had taken a lot of gumption and crow-eating to get to a place where I could consider buying a boat. I needed a cheap one, because God only knew how much money I’d be able to squeeze out of the Massachusetts Bay Commission via the research grant proposal I’d spent three long months laboring to produce.

The head of the commission was Ned Anderson. Ned, a brilliant shark researcher in his own right, had tumbled a long way: to full time administrator of a bullshit state commission. Though to hear Ned say it, it wasn’t a tumble but a reward for all the years he’d spent roughing it on a California channel island-- an island that only had electricity every other day-- in order to unlock the mystery of white shark feeding behavior. I had spent five years on that island with Ned. We were married at the time.

The P-Town Queen docks on June 4!

#SweetSat: Thar she blows

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It's been a while since I've done a Sweet Saturday Sample. Welcome, all you samplers!

The P-Town Queen is coming June 4!
To celebrate, I wanted to share a little excerpt from the book.

In my lifetime I have learned, among other things, not to overcook veal and never to forget a woman’s name the morning after. On that day I added another little ditty to my list: never blow up a dead whale with dynamite.

Max Groper had figured it for a horror show and so had washed his hands of the whole mess and stormed off to his van. Nikki, too, must have figured what would happen, but that woman likes trouble, I swear to God. “We’d better stand back,” she said, with the same amused mischief in her eyes that she’d had at Good Vibrations. The cops had, in fact, already pushed the entire crowd back, so Nik and I went to stand in the front line, so to speak, right where the lot meets the beach in front of the first row of cars. “I wish I’d brought the video camera,” Nik said. “I hope someone is recording this for posterity.”  I looked around and noticed at least three video cams trained on the whale, which was now being wired for a trip to kingdom come. “YouTube bonanza,” said Nikki, “I’m surprised that the folks from Channel Four aren’t here.”

“Maybe we should go wait in the truck,” I said. I had this bad feeling that flying whale parts wasn’t going to be like the fountain light show at the Bellagio in Vegas.

Sweet Saturday Sample: Blueberry Truth Out Take

Link on cover for details

Welcome to another Sweet Saturday Sample.

I thought it might be fun to do an 'out take' today. Early drafts of Blueberry Truth included some of Blueberry's voice. Though they didn't make the final draft, they did help me to get inside the head of  troubled seven-year-old Blueberry Truth, which made a big difference to the book over all.

This scene comes from the center of the book, when Beanie takes Blue to her niece's First Communion. Blue has never been in church before. This is her take on the experience:

Granny, she don’t believe in church. There be a God, he no friend of mine, she say. Beanie go to a fancy church. All rich with colored windows got pictures in them.  Big vat of water in the back. Beanie dip her hand in and make a sign of a cross like I seen Julio do and drag me down to the front. We sit on a long bench next to a whole bunch of other peoples that is her family. Get them all these bright colored dresses. One lady, she wear a big white hat that flop down all over. The hat lady hug Beanie and kiss her on the cheek. This my sister Lily, Beanie say. Then we all sit down.

There this big music that come up.  Beanie point up behind us to the balcony. Silver pipes going every which way all making sound.  Whoever play that thing miss the notes. Then everybody stand up and start to sing some song I never hear before,  voices all up and down and everywhere. Beanie show me the magazine, which got words and notes all over like a story. Then a bunch of kids come in. Boys all got white suits. Girls like they going to get married, all in white dresses. They walk down girls on one side, boys on the other. Maybe they get married like that, but they just kids like me and kids not supposed to get marry. I want to ask Beanie, but she say no talking so I don’t say nothing.

The big hat lady, sister Lily, she look like she fit to cry. Another lady in a pink dress sister somebody, put her arms around hat lady and whisper something at her. Pink dress lady look at me eyes all sharp and then to Beanie. Beanie smile and look at the magazine.

They go on and on a long time just like Beanie has told to me. We pray and then we sing again and then a man come with a basket on a pole and everybody put money in the basket except some put in a envelope like maybe they write a letter to God or Jesus.

Then all the get-marry kids go up front and the preacher give them something look like a white paper to eat. Then everybody else eat the white paper. Beanie’s Ma and the rest of her peoples go, but Beanie put her arm around me and whisper we wait here. I sit down and wait and everybody come back and say excuse me and kneel on that thing they got for kneeling.  We been here about two million year now. Beanie whisper almost done. Then the marry-kids go out and everybody follow and we stand on the step outside. The sun make me blink.

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