And Just Like that Winter’s Back for an Encore!

Yesterday, the snow was all gone. This morning, I woke up to this. Now I ask you, is this fair? What the heck, Mother Nature? This is spring. Winter’s over. We’re supposed to have buds on the trees and the first hardy perenials poking their heads out of the ground. Not this!

Well, this is what we’ve got. Eight inches of the miserable white stuff, and as if that isn’t bad enough, we’ll be getting ten hours or so of freezing rain tomorrow. Lovely, just fecking lovely as the Irish might say. It looks as if I’m not going anywhere today or tomorrow. The good news? That freezing rain will turn into regular rain on Monday and the temperature will go up to 60 degrees F. Winter/Spring in Canada. Got to love it. Hopefully, this is just March going out like a lion. You know how unpredictable cats can be.

Enough of that. I have what I hope is good news. I know a lot of people are anti AI, and many of them are upset because their books have been pirated and have ended up on an AI training site without their permission; mine have, too, but there isn’t much I can do about it. Someone posted a site where you could join a group and follow the situation, but the cost of joining was prohibitive. I could buy two weeks’ worth of groceries for it. I’m certainly not thrilled about someone using my work like that, but since some big name authors are there as well, like Nora Roberts and Stephen King, I’ll consider it my one and only chance to hang out with them, if only for a short time.

So, what have I done? I’ve decided to take advantage of it and use the opportunity to get a few of my books converted to audio books. Kindle has made the service available to me, and while I suppose it could be considered sleeping with the enemy, I’ve accepted the offer. I could never have been able to put my books on audio any other way, and while I know the narrator won’t have all the qualities of a flesh and blood voice actor, when it comes right down to it, it is the next best thing.

To date I have three books available: The Tigress Tequila Sunrise A Case of Mistaken Identity I will add more books as soon as I can. I’ve chosen a female narrator with what I consider an accent and voice tone quite similar to my own. Is it perfect, no, but it’s darn good.

This is a huge step outside of my comfort zone, one I struggled with, but the truth is, AI is here to stay. I’m not ready to let it write my books, but it can help my cover artist create amazing covers and convert my words into sound, allowing me to perhaps reach new fans. What’s done is done. I’m embracing the future–well, slowly, but like Winter/Spring, I’mworking it out.

Have a great weekend!

Tuesday Tales: From the Word RIDE

Welcome to the last post of March. One quarter of 2025 finished. It’s hard to believe. This week, I continue with And Justice for All. Our word prompt is RIDE.

Harry returned to the cabin where she sat, but didn’t say anything. Like her, he was probably trying to add up everything in his head and trying to get an answer that didn’t terrify him. Kelly started the engine. While thunder still rumbled in the distance and the rain continued to fall, there hadn’t been any other forks of lightning.

The ride back to Rockport was a slow solemn one. Instead of docking at Cornwall’s, Kelly drove them to the OPP docks at the shipyard at the eastern edge of the village and straight into a large boathouse where they were out of the rain but away from prying eyes as well.

Harry helped her onto the pier and grabbed the small gaff hanging inside the boat.

“Officer Grant is going to drive three of us to our vehicles in a few minutes. Why don’t you go inside with the others. I’m sure they have coffee. I want to have another look in the boat.”

“Coffee is the last thing I want right now. I’ll wait for you.” He’d thought of something, and she wanted to know what it was. “What are you looking for?”

“That boat was barely moving. I want to know why.”

“You think they slowed down for something.”

“Yeah, and I don’t think it was anyone on a jet ski. I noticed the gaff wasn’t attached to the side of the boat. I think they stopped to get something out of the water. Stay there. No sense in you ruining your shoes, too.”

Harry stepped into the boat and moved over to the port side. His shoes sloshed through the four inches of water in the boat. Using the short gaff, he ran the tip of it along the edges of the boat under the red water.

“I was right.”

“What have you got?” She leaned closer to get a better look.

He pulled the gaff up. Attached to it were the remnants of a few balloon with a long piece of string attached to them.

“Are those helium balloons? Those can be dangerous for waterfowl and other birds.” They had probably been trying to help the environment. “Some poor kid probably lost them.”

“A kid didn’t lose these, Maggie. They’re made of neoprene, not the kind of stuff you fill with helium. I’d say someone anchored them here purposely. Still think I’m wrong about it being our killer?”

She swallowed and shook her head.

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Tuesday Tales: From the Word SHARP

Welcome to this week’s Tuesday Tales. I’m continuing with my Romance Suspense And Justice for All. Our word this week is SHARP and I used SHARPLY. Please be aware that today’s scene is gory and may be disturbing to some. Despite the resemblance to current events in the world, this is a work if fiction and my imagination. Enjoy!

As soon as they were close enough, the fog lifted, and Maggie inhaled sharply. There were so many bullet holes in its starboard side that it was a miracle it was still afloat. As it was, it had started to list.

Harry leaned toward Daniels. “Was the boat anchored or adrift?”

“Adrift. The Coast Guard tied up to it and dropped anchor to keep it afloat and more or less where they found it, but with the weather and the current, they could be miles from where it happened.”

As Kelly maneuvered the boat closer to the other one, the truth of what had happened slapped her.

“My God,” she whispered, unable to take her eyes off the horrifying scene.

Rain mixed with the blood on the floor of the boat, destroying what could’ve been valuable evidence. The tarps covering the bodies were similarly soaked. Pete grabbed the side of the crime scene vessel and attached their boat to it.

As soon as the vessel was secure, Harry stepped aboard the other boat.

“Maggie, stay there, please.”

“No problem.” That place was the last place she wanted to be, all the blood reminding her of her own shooting.

“Since we don’t know what happened here, everybody keep your eyes peeled for anything coming toward us, and I mean anything. A goddamn goose is suspect right now. Dr. Eastman, will you join me please? Stay on the port side. We don’t want our weight to sink the boat.”

The coroner nodded. Gingerly, he joined Harry. Together, they peeled back the tarp.

The moment Maggie saw the mangled bodies, bile filled her mouth. This was far worse than any scenario she’d imagined. She clenched her teeth and looked away, but that didn’t stop her mind from dwelling on what she’d seen. The bodies were riddled with bullets, the faces and torsos covered in blood and unrecognizable.

Dr. Eastman bent down to examine the corpses. He stood and shook his head.

“For what it’s worth, they were dead within seconds. I’m supposed to wait until I finish the autopsy, but there’s no doubt in my mind that cause of death is massive blood loss from multiple bullet wounds to the head and body. I haven’t seen anything like this since Kandahar. I’m sure you’ll find that those are armor piercing bullets, and they went through their vests like knives through butter.”

Marina rushed to the other side of the boat and vomited.

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Tuesday Tales: From the Word MASSIVE

Welcome to this week’s Tuesday Tales and another scene from And Justice for All. Our word prompt is MASSIVE. Please remember that while the story may mirror current events, it is fictitious and a product of my imagination. Enjoy.

“I understand, Sergeant, but it’s critical that I see the crime scene as is. I can’t afford to have any of it contaminated. We’re almost there.”

“We’ll be ready to go as soon as you arrive.”

He ended the call and turned to Maggie.

“I can’t shake the feeling that our killer for hire has struck again. I’m damn sure we’re about to see victims ten and eleven.”

She nodded. “More dead female officers. So, is he a misogynist, or would any team of officers have done the trick? A lot of blood? That means they were shot or stabbed. How could two drunk jet skiers overpower them? Weren’t they armed?”

“They should’ve been, but we’ll have to wait until we see the boat to figure out what happened.”

As soon as the sign for the Rockport exit came into view, Harry turned off the lights and siren, slowed the car, and put on his left turn signal. The OPP cruiser was waiting for them at the top of the road, just before the church. Harry slowed the car and stopped beside them.

One of the officers got out of the patrol car and came over to them. Harry lowered the window.

“Inspector Collins, I’m Officer Grant. Sergeant Daniels and the others are waiting for you at Cornwall’s. If you’ll follow me.”

“Lead the way, Officer Grant.”

The man returned to his squad car and as soon as he closed the door, the vehicle moved onto the road. Harry followed, more than a little concerned about Maggie and what they would see. Had putting her on the task force been a mistake? Would seeing the murdered women remind her of her shooting and her vulnerability?

The village of Rockport was considered the gateway to the Thousand Islands and welcomed massive numbers of tourists each year. In addition to the tour boats that took people sightseeing through the islands, there was a motel, a restaurant, and an outdoor tiki bar for the pleasure of visitors. As well, the marina catered to boaters from both sides of the border.

He followed the squad car into the parking lot and parked. Fat raindrops plopped onto the windshield.

“I’ve got raingear in the trunk, a couple of hooded ponchos that should be okay for you. Wait here.”

Harry hurried around to the trunk and came back carrying not only the ponchos but the vests.

“Do you really think we need those?” She indicated the vests.

“I do. From now on, we go nowhere without them. Is that clear?”

She scowled. “Crystal.”

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2025 Blogging A to Z Challenge Theme Reveal

Here it is, March 10, 2025, and it’s time to plan for this year’s Blogging A to Z Challenge. I’ve done this at least ten times, and last year was the most enjoyable one ever. I met some amazing bloggers who have become friends and followers, and I hope to make more this year. Like many others have noted, I love this year’s badge. It’s bright colorful and full of hope, just like I’m trying to be.

Since it’s the week to reveal my theme, I’ve thought long and hard about it and couldn’t really settle on anything in particular. There have been so many changes and upheavals in the world, and these have affected my life as well as yours. One of the blog challenge’s central themes this year is gratitude, and I will do my best to keep that in mind. That being said, I’ve opted to make my theme personal musings, and offer you a little bit of everything that makes me who and what I am. At the moment, I’m on a waiting list for hip replacement surgery. The call could come at any time, and when it does, I will be more that happy to have it done. So, if I can’t finish the challenge in the appointed days, I will finish it as soon as I’m able. This past year has been a difficult and painful one for me from the diagnosis in June to where I am now.

So, what I plan to do is just blog about my family life, my friends, my writing, my dreams and aspirations, my future travel plans, the weather, the world, whatever else tickles my fancy, and of course, the music I love. The music videos I posted last year were a big hit, and I’m sure I can find others for this year.

So, I hope you’ll visit me each day from April 1 to April 30 and see what I have to say. Maybe, just maybe, spring will show up while I’m at it. See you April 1!

IWSG Blog Post for March 2025

Welcome to March. So far, 2025 has consisted of one political crisis after another, something that makes it hard for me to focus on anything creative. I keep hoping something will happen to make things better, but I feel I will be sadly disappointed before it ends.

March 5 question – If for one day you could be anyone or thing in the world, what would it be? Describe, tell why, and any themes, goals, or values they/it inspire in you.

This month’s question is a difficult one for me to answer. With my country under economic war from the US and their vile president’s threat of annexation, I’m feeling stressed. I suppose if I could be anything in the world, it would be common sense or whatever else it took to make people see that fighting and killing aren’t the answer to the problems we face. Greed must be replaced with generocity, and hatred with compassion.

As a planet, we need to work together. We’re destroying our home, and it isn’t as if we can just move into another one. I am dismayed by the attitude and some of the comments I see in social media. It’s dragging me down, ruining my joie de vivre, and aging me with worry.

As a species, we need to be more accepting, understanding, and loving. We need to care about the health and welfare of every person not just the rich and powerful. Race, gender, sexuality have nothing to do with what a person is capable of achieving. And as far as religion goes, there’s only one Bible quote that’s apt right now: Jesus wept.

Want to see what others think? Check out their answers here: https://www.insecurewriterssupportgroup.com/p/iwsg-sign-up.html

Tuesday Tales: From the Word WHITE

Welcome to March and this week’s Tuesday Tales. Our word prompt is WHITE. I’m continuing with my Romance Suspense, And Justice for All. Please note that while the events in this story may mirror current events, the story is entirely fictitious and the product of my imagination. Enjoy.

“Harry, those questions you asked about Cliff … do you think organized crime and the cartels are somehow behind this? That it’s all about smuggling?”

“Things aren’t black and white, Maggie. Are the cartels and organized crime behind the drug and gun smuggling? Possibly. The CBSA has seized an incredible number of weapons coming from the US this year, but are they behind the murder for hire? I don’t know. I’m damn sure that if they know the service is available, they’ll be only too happy to take advantage of it. Smuggling is a very real problem and drugs and guns may just be the tip of the iceberg. It’s part of the price we pay for having the world’s longest undefended border, but walls aren’t the answer. Look at the mess the U.S. and Mexico are facing. Illegal traffic goes both ways, there and up here. A wall doesn’t make much difference if you tunnel under it.”

“True.”

“While the St Lawrence River is more than a thousand kilometers long, the two hundred and eighty-eight kilometers between Montreal and Kingston, the start of Lake Ontario are the hardest to patrol. We’ve known that for years. There are Indigenous Reserves, the Thousand Islands, and God alone knows how many other places to cross from the US into Canada and vise versa. Don’t forget. Highway H2O as they call the St Lawrence Seaway is 3700 km long. It’s harder to watch than people think. The Canada-U.S. border is the longest one in the world, more than 8,891 km long. It borders thirteen U.S. states and eight Canadian Provinces and territories, if you throw in Alaska and the Yukon. There are lots of places where illegal substances can come into the country. The Canadian Border Patrol Service, the RCMP, and local provincial police forces are the only things standing between them. Get rid of us, and it’s that much easier. That makes us all targets.”

“Then why are they going after women and visible minorities? Why not make it open season on all police officers?”

“I don’t know. I honestly don’t know.”

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A Peek at The Awakening, Book One Listen to the Stones Saga

In five days’ time, Marina Fraser Mitchell will make her debut in the annals of fantasy novels when The Awakening, Book One of the Listen to the Stones Saga goes live for the first time. The book will be released in paperback and eBook on March 3, 2025, and will also be available in Kindle Unlimited.

This series is a leap for me, but one I felt I had to take. While I was writing a fantasy, instead of setting it in an imaginary world, I’ve set it in this one and in this timeline.

Marina, an all too human woman filled with self-doubts about herself and her future, is thirty years old, divorced, alone, and down on her luck. As she tries to find herself in a world filled with vicious nightmares, a phobia she doesn’t understand, and one bad luck episode after another, she has to weigh what’s happening to her against the possibility that she’s losing her mind. Discovering that she’s psychic comes as quite a shock, but is the ability real or just a sign of a deep-seated illness?When she discovers that everything she knew about herself was an elaborate lie to keep her from discovering the truth, she sets out to find it for herself. Help comes from the strangest places. The road is far bumpier than she expected, but the sooner she accepts that she’s more than she ever thought she could be, the closer she’ll be to discovering the truth and her destiny. The answer lies on the Isle of Lewis and Harris. Now that she’s accepting the truth, it’s time to go home.

Here is a scene from The Awakening

Marina sighed. According to the therapist, phobias had many different causes including anxiety, stress, or a traumatic personal experience as a child. Years ago, when she’d been trying to come to grips with her irrational fear, she’d asked her mother if anything had ever happened to her involving water, but her mother had said she couldn’t think of anything and had changed the subject.

The last possibility was that someone had planted a hypnotic suggestion deep in her subconscious. Every time she went near the water, the prompt reared its ugly head, and she panicked, but who would do such a thing to her and why? This wasn’t a joke like having someone cluck like a chicken when they saw an egg. The therapist had suggested hypnosis, but at two-hundred and fifty bucks a session, it was more than Marina could afford.

“I know how to fix what ails you,” Lenore interrupted her thoughts. “You need a little bump and grind. Nothing like great sex to clean out the pipes and put you on the right track again. You know what they say, all work and no play … if anyone ever needed to play and relax, it’s you, girl.”

Marina forced a laugh. “Lenore, I know you mean well, but believe it or not, for some of us, sex isn’t the answer.” Although imaginary sex with her phantom lover had worked well in the past, at least until last New Year’s Eve. “I’m sorry, but I’ve never been one to jump into bed at the drop of a hat, and I’m not going to change now and test your outrageous suggestion with a stranger. Even Bob had to wait a few months before I ‘loosened up’ as he put it.”

And the result hadn’t really been worth the effort, but she’d learned to fake it for a while—just not long enough. Maybe she was frigid as he’d claimed.

“Who said anything about a stranger? A lot of guys have been asking you out, but you keep saying no. You aren’t a nun, Marina, and you shouldn’t live like one. The world is full of decent guys looking for love and wanting a family. I’m not saying you should settle for the first one who asks—you’ve done that already—but as they say, if at first you don’t succeed, try, try again.” She giggled. “The trying can be great fun with the right partner.”

Even if he exists only in my dreams.

Marina shook her head and pursed her lips. Her friend meant well, but some things weren’t up for debate, and her sex life or the lack of one was included in that.

“I’m sorry, Lenore, but honestly it’s too soon. I’m just not ready.”

“Too soon, my ass,” Lenore snarled. “It’s been four years. He’s moved on, remarried, and is starting a family.”

Marina raised her chin in defiance and glared at her friend. Leave it to Lenore to rip off the bandage and expose the wound.

“What Bob has done or not done isn’t the issue. I’m the one we’re discussing here, and I’m not ready.”

Lenore threw up her hands in surrender.

“Fine! I won’t push, but you have to do something about your health. You’re my closest friend, and I’m worried about you. You don’t sleep, you don’t go out, and you’ve lost weight. Maybe you need vitamins or iron supplements. You’ve always been pale, but fish-belly white isn’t a good look on anyone. Maybe you’ve got Long Covid or something. Not being able to sleep isn’t normal, just like that buzzing in your ears. I’m sure someone used sleep deprivation and constant noise as an instrument of torture.”

Marina shook her head. “Leave it to you to see the worst side of things. The buzzing as you call it isn’t constant. If it was, I would see an audiologist. I’m not a fool. If things don’t improve, I’ll see a doctor.”

“Promise?”

“Cross my heart. Are you still coming tomorrow to help me go through those boxes Bob brought over? The ones he found cleaning out the garage before they start showing the house to potential buyers?”

“Definitely. It’s hard to imagine how three boxes managed to hide all this time. I was sure we’d dragged everything out of there when I helped you move out four years ago.”

“So was I. Bob’s call surprised me, but it’s not just the boxes. The footlocker he brought over has to have been my father’s. His name was Hugh Fraser—that’s why Fraser is my middle name—and he was a soldier, killed on a peacekeeping mission in the former Yugoslavia. Mom never wanted to talk about him. It was just too painful for her. Whenever I mentioned him, we inevitably ended up in the kitchen cooking or baking.” She shook her head. “Come down around ten. That will give me time to clean the place and do a couple of loads of laundry before we start. I’ll have a fresh pot of coffee ready.”

“With cinnamon?”

Marina laughed, something she did rarely. Lenore loved cinnamon almost as much as she did.

“Of course. I might even still have a bag of those candy hearts you like.”

“Perfect. We can order lunch from that Greek restaurant you enjoy, too. My treat.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Marina smiled. “Now, I’d better check to make sure we have enough of everything for the last sitting. The new dishes seem to have been a big hit. I’ll have to consider adding some of them to the menu as regular Friday night features.”

“Your meals are always the best. I don’t know how you do it, but you can turn even the most basic food into something magical. It’s a gift. All that time in the kitchen with your mother really paid off.”

“Thanks, but I think the credit should go to Nana. After all, she’s the one who let me make stone soup.”

Lenore laughed. “Your grandmother was a good sport when we were younger.”

As a child, one of her favorite books had been Stone Soup, a folk story in which a man looking for something to eat convinced a selfish old woman who claimed she had nothing to give him to allow him to make soup using just a stone and a pot of water. Of course, as the story had gone on, he’d suggested the soup would be better with this or that, all ingredients the woman provided. In the end, when they ate the soup, the woman was amazed at how delicious it was considering it had been made from a simple stone. Marina had begged Nana to let her make a pot using the quartz stone she’d found in the back yard. She’d followed the recipe closely and even her mother had been amazed by its taste. From that day on, Marina had been the family’s number one soup maker.

She stood. “Time to get back to work.”

She went out into the kitchen with Lenore on her heels. She’d averted an argument about her health, but tomorrow was another day, and she just might not be as lucky. It was a good thing she hadn’t mentioned the watchers.

You can pre-order your copy here:https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DX3665V4

Tuesday Tales: From the Word PERFECT

Here we are at the end of February. Winter is certainly erratic this year. Welcome to Tuesday Tales. Our word prompt is PERFECT. I’m continuing with And Justice For All, my Romance Suspense. Enjoy.

Maggie shut the door to Morris’s office. She was shaking, filled with a combination of anger, fear, and dismay. Harry Collins. In a perfect world, they would be married now with the two children she’d always wanted. But the world wasn’t perfect—far from it. It was filled with unspeakable horror, hatred, and broken dreams. In the battle between right and wrong, good and evil, wrong and evil were definitely on the winning side. If what Harry said was even half true … No. She wouldn’t think of that now, wouldn’t risk breaking down and humiliating herself in front of him again. There would be time enough for that when she was alone in her apartment tonight.

She walked back to her desk in the bullpen and let the rest of what had just happened surface. Transferred. Temporary reassignment. No matter how she put it, she was leaving the safe environment she knew and taking a giant leap into the unknown. To make matters worse, she would be working closely with Harry. If this was Fate’s idea of a joke, she didn’t think it was funny.

It was true that she could refuse … hadn’t she considered retiring only an hour ago? But wasn’t this exactly what she wanted? This task force’s sole purpose was to track down and bring to justice the bastards who had killed Cliff and eight others.

She suppressed a shudder remembering Morris’s words. You’re the third survivor, and my money says that was unintentional. Hadn’t she thought the same thing? Wasn’t that the real reason she’d sold the house and moved into the city, into an apartment building where neighbors were close by, and 9 1 1 would bring help within minutes if she needed it. Wasn’t that the reason she’d quit jogging in the park? The reason she never went out at night? The reason she was constantly on edge, watching everyone around her, avoiding crowded places, not sleeping at night, just waiting for him to strike again.

Thoughts like these were pointless. All she’d done since the incident was hide like an injured animal and lick her wounds. Wasn’t she made of tougher stuff than that? It was time to put on her game face as her mother used to say. To paraphrase Tom Hanks in A League of Their Own, there was no crying in police work. It was time to bite the bullet, get back to work and find this bastard.

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Living the Dream: From the Word SLOW

Welcome to this week’s Tuesday Tales. Yesterday was Presidents’ Day in the US and Family Day in Canada. I enjoyed quality time with my family. Our word prompt this week is SLOW. I’m continuing with And Justice for All my Romance Suspense from the Protecting the Innocent Series. Enjoy!

“What do you mean?” Maggie turned to Morris. “I am coming back here, aren’t I? You did say it was a temporary assignment.”

Lieutenant Morris pursed his lips and scowled.

“It is, Sutton, but I don’t know how long it’ll last. Take what you need, including your gun and your badge. You’re still a member of this department. Your desk will be there when you get back.”

She nodded and turned to him. “I’ll meet you at the elevator, Harry. It won’t take me long.”

Turning on her heels, she opened the door and closed it firmly behind her.

Morris faced him.

“Are you sure about all this? Are you certain that she’s the one you want working on this task force with you? She’s not 100 percent and still quite emotional. Maybe you need to slow down and give her more time to come to grips with … everything.”

“Lieutenant, if there was any way I could make this easier for her, I would. Maggie Sutton is not only the one I want, but she’s also the one I need. She’s the survivor of the most recent attack. You said it yourself. I’m not convinced that the person who shot her isn’t going to try again, but if he does, I’ll be there to take the son of a bitch down.”

“You’re going to use her to bait a trap?” The words exploded from Morris’s mouth. “No one said anything about that. I would never have agreed to it.”

“You’ve misunderstood. She won’t be bait in a trap, she’ll be in protective custody, mine.”

Morris nodded. “I don’t like it, and she sure as hell won’t, but since this came from up high, there isn’t much I can say about it. If anything happens to her—”

“Rest assured, I’ll protect her with my life.” Harry held out his hand. “Thank you, sir. I’ll be in touch.”

Before he could leave the office, his cell phone rang. He checked the display and frowned.

“I’ve got to get this.” He pressed the call answer button. “Collins.” He listened, his scowl deepening with every word he heard. “I’m on my way. I should be there within two hours. Don’t let them touch anything.”

He ended the call.

Morris sighed. “Do you want me to keep Sutton here until tomorrow?”

“No, she’s coming with me. Two OPP officers were just involved in an accident on the Thousand Islands Parkway.”

He hurried to the elevator to break the news to Maggie.

Don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales.