Living the Dream

This is edited and reprinted from my post on the Authors’ Billboard blog site.

Back in the spring of 2022, with nothing to guide me but my memories of my last visit to New Brunswick some twenty years ago and Internet research, I wrote my newest release, Sea Breeze, part of the Sweet & Sassy: Small Town Romances (Sweet and Sassy Romance Book 5) box set.

At the time, we were still under COVID restrictions, and while I’d intended to visit St. Andrews by the Sea, New Brunswick, before I wrote Sea Breeze, I based Eva’s drive to the town on what I remembered of our trek to St John, New Brunswick, years ago.

Had things changed? Yes. For one, the toll highway I recalled was no longer a toll road. It was an ambitious four-lane highway, still under construction, but the moose and deer signs I remembered were still there, even if we didn’t wend our way along a desolate two-lane road through every small town.

As for St Andrews by the Sea, I surprised myself by how close I came to the reality of the coastal town where I’d set my book. Many of the real places I’d discovered in my research were there while others no longer existed, having succumbed to the economic damage from the pandemic. I created several fictitious locations in Sea Breeze, including a resort by that name. Imagine my surprise when I found a restaurant by that name. I had the chowder! It was delicious.

The town of St Andrews by the Sea is every bit as quaint and beautiful as I thought it would be.

While the deer walking freely through the streets were a surprise, the rest of the tourist town wasn’t, with the exception of the marina from which the fishing and the whale sightseeing boat tours departed. In my novel, I’d assumed there would be fishing boats there as well, but they use a different harbor. As well, thanks to the warming of the waters, the large whales are rarely spotted here now.

In my book, I set my hotel on the bluff overlooking Minister Island.

We did make the trek across the seabed to the island. At low tide, there is a three-hour window where you can drive over and visit. The first picture shows us going over, the second is when we came back. The fictional Sea Breeze Resort would be located atop that rise on the left. If you use your imagination, you can just picture it there.

Finally, among the items that can be found along the beach at low tide, I mentioned a Mermaid’s Purse, a skate egg sac. While I didn’t walk along the shore–bad knee still an issue, I did see one at the aquarium. This one is hatched. In case you don’t recognize it, it’s that lovely black thing in the center of the picture. Wouldn’t you like a necklace made of that? Eva wasn’t sure she would either, but treasure, like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder.

Finally, I make a big deal of the full moon rising out of the ocean. I’m not a photographer and all I had was my i-phone, but you would have to see it for yourself to appreciate its incredible beauty and wonder. The smaller light on the right is a buoy.

So, there you have it. If you ever have a chance to visit St. Andrews by the Sea, please do. The food is tremendous, the craft brewery in behind the post office is fantastic, and if you can stay in The Algonquin Resort, do so. Oh, and don’t forget to take the ghost tour of the hotel. But that’s fuel for another book.

Sea Breeze is available in the new Sweet& Sassy Small Town Romances box set. https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BDX9GC1K/

Get ready for another Sweet & Sassy Six-pack! Twelve people finding their way through life and crashing into their futures with a passion we can only dream about.

Sweet & Sassy: Small Town Romances is here! Six New Small-Town romances that are written by NYT, USA Today, and International Bestselling Authors. From the city to the small town some of our couples will find their way. Others will cross the wrong side of the tracks and prove their worth. Trusted friends and family will be at their sides as they learn difficult and surprising news. A few might search for the truth or attempt to contain a secret they have carried for years.
Whatever happens with these six couples, new futures will be created, and love will fill these six small towns.

Candy, Loving a Winston Series, book 3 written by Stacy Eaton, USA Today Bestselling Author: Candy Winston is the brain of the family and typically uses it before making decisions. Except when it comes to Michael Bollard. Mike has hopes of building a future, a future that is colliding with sexy and intelligent Candy Winston in ways he could have never imagined.

We’re No Saints, written by Mona Risk, New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author:
While cleaning her late husband’s office, Stephanie discovers painful secrets that destroy her peace of mind. Neil offers support and help until his own secrets threaten her trust in him and their growing romance.

Sea Breeze, written by Susanne Matthews, International Bestselling Author: Based on her mother’s experience and convinced that love isn’t for her, Eva Malone wants two things out of life: her freedom and answers about her past. But when a storm threatens Eva’s chances at a happily ever after, will history repeat itself?

Going to Find Love written by Rachelle Ayala, USA Today Bestselling Author: Penny finds out she’s adopted and leaves home for answers. Will she find love or will love find her no matter where she goes?

A Recipe for Disaster written by Patrice Wilton, New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author: A mob, a wedding, a betrayal–and the fun has just begun.

Brown-Eyed Girl, West Loon Bay Series, book 2 written by Denise Devine, USA Today Bestselling Author: Carly Strand has been holding a secret close to her heart for nearly a decade. Can she trust Erik Nilsen with her secret and her love or will he break her heart again?

If you follow my postings in Tuesday Tales, you’ll recall my posts on my work in progress Trouble with Eden. Well, while the book has been available in paperback and as part of an ABB box set, it’s available on its own in eBook format now!

Blurb:

Can two lonely strangers find love and happiness through a caring man’s bequest?

Fantasy author Jackson Rivers is fed up with the world. He wants to hide away from everyone and everything and focus on his books, preferring the worlds he creates in his mind to reality. When he discovers he’s inherited a house and a service station in a rural part of Eastern Ontario, he sees it as the answer to prayer. He may only own half of both, but surely, he and the coheir can come to some arrangement. Her just wants to be left alone, and a house in the country sounds perfect. Sadly, an encounter with a moose changes everything, and when he meets the other heir, not a man as he’d envisioned but a woman, the embodiment of his newest fantasy heroine, his priorities change. If it’s time to let someone else into his life, this woman is the ideal choice.
Eden-Jane Walford, E J to friends, wants her life to stay exactly the way it is—unfettered—able to come and go as she pleases, living in her childhood home, answering to herself and the dad she adores. But fate tosses a monkey wrench into things. She’s a Class A mechanic and tow truck operator for Paradise Service Station and Towing, her adoptive father’s company, but when he dies suddenly, she’s in for a surprise. While he leaves half of his estate to her, the other half goes to a stranger, who just happens to be his biological son and knows absolutely nothing about the business. Sharing her home and the boss’s chair with this man will be more than a little challenging, especially when he’s the first man she’s been drawn to since her disastrous engagement fell through. Will the sparks between them lead to love or war?

Grab your copy today! Trouble with Eden is available on all Amazon sales sites.

Wow! It’s the end of September and autumn has reached out its cool fingers. This week’s Tuesday Tales is based on the word prompt FALL. I’m continuing with Pumpkin Spice.

He reached for my hand and clasped it. His palm was sweaty. I freed myself as quickly as I could, fighting the urge to rub my hand against my pants.

“Ralph Emerson.” His grin deepened to one with all the eagerness and joy of a wolf waiting to pounce on a rabbit. “This is a surprise … Sorry about that little mix-up. Nothing personal. You’ve got a nice place here, but business is business.” He cleared his throat. “We had reservations, and those had to be honored.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “We’ll only be here a couple more weeks. We may even leave sooner if … if we wrap everything up faster, and don’t fall for some hoax. As your aunt probably told you, my men and I are filming a documentary about the Salem injustices, specifically those related to people accused of witchcraft. Sometimes it takes longer than expected to find the truth. What brings you to Salem, Ms. Cole?”

Searching for the truth? If he was doing that, then I was a monkey’s uncle. Years of working the bar scene, reading people, listening to them, and some innate part of me sensed that Mr. Emerson was lying through his sparkly, white teeth. It had nothing to do with magical ability or anything like that. It was all about observation and listening. In good old Ralph’s defense, his non-Duchenne smile was as good a faked one as I’d ever seen, but then again, it was always easier for people with lots of facial hair and glasses to fake those. Still, the dilated pupils, the slight hesitation in speech, short, snappy sentences, the wall building with his arms folded between us, and the way he looked at me and then quickly away when he spoke all pointed to lies, as did the change in blood flow in what I could see of his cheeks, not to mention the sweaty palm.

“Shove over, Ralph, and let us meet the lady for ourselves.”

“Of course.” The relief in his voice was obvious, another sign of his discomfort and lies, as he moved, adding distance between us. “Anca Cole, this gentleman is Louis Lombardi. The others are Emilio Sanchez, Frank Riley, Bryan Wilson, and Tom Brown.”

I shook each hand. Tom, the one with the ponytail, was reluctant to let go, and I had to tug firmly to be released. I fought the urge to check to see that my rings were still there.

That’s it. Stay safe and don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales

The Authors’ Billboard has done it again with another box set that’s perfect for all The Unforgettables fans out there.

Faithfulness, devotion, commitment…
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Is there anything more important in a relationship than loyalty from the one you love…
knowing that person will always be there for you?

And then they aren’t.

What happens then?

In these NINE romances* written by New York Times & USA Today Bestselling Authors, we deal with this problem, find solutions, and are able to reach memorable Happy-Ever-After endings.

*Spine-tingling Romantic Suspense novels from THE AUTHORS’ BILLBOARD!

Mimi Barbour: Special Agent Jennie – Agent Jennie hates only one man. The same guy who comes back into her and her daughter’s life and rips it apart. How can she allow him the power… how can she not?

Susanne Matthews: The White Lily – Uneasy partners, Jacob and Lilith must learn to trust each other to find the monster as they fight their growing attraction. When Lilith’s greatest fears materialize, can Jacob set aside his own rage to save the woman he loves?

Rebecca York: The Man from Nowhere – Alex Shane’s special assignment plunged him and Sara Delaney into a vortex of murder and deception. Or were they playing for opposite teams?

Mona Risk: A Bodyguard for the Princess – The spirited princess didn’t look for trouble, but it had found her. Again. Could he help her without falling in love?

Taylor Lee: Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door – She’s a go-it-alone detective. He’s a psychiatrist and FBI profiler. A serial killer brings them together. In more ways than one.

Nancy Radke: The Prisoner Returns – Hired by her father as a bodyguard, Tripp Richards finds himself the new target as he tries to keep the heiress alive.

J.L. Campbell: Grudge – On a visit to the exotic island of Xantrope, Phillip uses his detective skills to find answers to why someone wants to put the lovely and lively Corra six feet under.

Dani Haviland: Luke the Unexpected – Brought together by their love of vintage motorcycles, Luke and Holly have more than just an out-of-tune Indian Chief to deal with. The town’s leggy crime boss, Tanya, wants revenge for being spurned.

Tamara Ferguson: That Incredible Kiss –After ten years apart, Ashley Mitchum and Brian O’Neill are fatefully reunited in Crystal Rock. Will unveiling their families’ dark family secrets heal Two Wounded Hearts?

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Welcome to this week’s Tuesday Tales. Since it’s picture prompt week, our scenes are limited to 300 words! I’m continuing with Pumpkin Spice. Here’s the picture I chose. Isn’t he handsome?

What the hell had Aunt Selma gotten herself into? No wonder she’d chosen not to sleep in the house. Any one of these guys could snap her, or me, in half like a twig. If a cat the size of Peanut was afraid of them, then so was I.

“Good afternoon, Elvira.”

A man, possibly the leader of this band of ne’er-do-wells, stopped before us, the other five still on the staircase, reminding me of a choir ready to perform. One had hair pulled back into a long ponytail. Had I mistaken him for the woman in my room?

The one closest to me resembled a bodybuilder, but for him, given his overall hairiness, the muscles weren’t just for show. He had a full but neatly trimmed beard, black horn-rimmed glasses, and wore jeans and a black t-shirt with Salem and its witch on a broomstick emblem across the front. When he leered at me and grinned, he displayed the whitest set of teeth I’d ever seen. Either they were false, or they’d been recently overbleached. If Lou were here, he would have something to say about the dangers of that!

Icy fingers crawled up my spine, and I had to force myself not to squirm and run away.

“I’m hungry enough to eat a horse today.” He raked me up and down, making me feel self-conscious. “Who’s your friend? Selma said the house was closed to visitors except for a few hours in the evening. As cute as she is, she’ll have to go.”

And just like that, my rubber backbone turned to steel. Who the hell did he think he was? Since when did the guests talk to the staff as if they owned the place? My hackles rose, not a good thing. I had to go?

Not bloody likely, buddy.

That’s it. Stay safe and don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales

Wow! Mid-September. Time really does go by faster when you get older. Welcome to this week’s Tuesday Tales. Our word prompt is ANXIOUS.

“He is, not quite eight months old, but he’s big, beautiful, and even-tempered, although he’s taken a definite dislike to our guests.” She looked up at the cat. “Come down here and meet Anca. You’ve been waiting for her for months.”

Peanut turned to the parrot, and I swear the bird nodded her head. He stood and descended the stairs with all the grace and majesty of a runway model, stopping at my feet to sniff me, before looking up at me with large, wide-set, slanted, gold eyes, I swear were filled with awe and admiration—or were those my eyes reflected in his? The tips of his ears were tufted, and his hair was thick and lush. He was truly a magnificent—if larger than expected—animal. He opened his mouth, but instead of the meow I expected, out came a chirp, or was it a trill? The cat spoke bird?

“What’s wrong with his voice?”

“Nothing. That’s how he talks, although he will meow if something is wrong, the way Roberta said he did when Selma fell, and he purrs when he’s happy. Go ahead; touch him. He won’t hurt you. The other animals are all quite taken with the handsome devil. If he likes you, he may even bring you a gift.”

Anxious not to offend him or impress him too much, I lowered my hand and scratched him between the ears the way I did Calliope, surprised by the sense of warmth that seeped into me. His purr was instantaneous, a heavy rumble that couldn’t hide his contentment.

I smiled. “Just so we’re straight,” I said, feeling foolish, but Elvira had spoken to him first, “if you decide to bring me a present, could you make it a flower? I’m partial to orange or yellow ones.”

A sudden noise at the top of the stairs sent Hester flying down them. Peanut gave me one last look and then bolted after her. Hopefully, he’d understood my heartfelt plea, and I didn’t have to look forward to finding some dead thing dropped at my feet. I looked up as half a dozen men came down the stairs. These were cameramen? They more closely resembled gangsters, the kind I would pick to be enforcers for loan sharks. You know, the Louis the Lip ones who broke kneecaps and other body parts for fun.

That’s it. Stay safe and don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales

Welcome to this month’s blog. The question prompt is: What genre would be the worst one for you to tackle and why?

I have four, and they would be equally tough. The first one would be horror, when it is extremely graphic and involves demonic possession, like The Exorcist or The Amityville Horror. Books like those scare the bejesus out of me, and since my writer’s imagination is very vivid and my style descriptive, I can’t do it. I can’t read books like those or watch movies on that theme. I hate the sensation of being scared. I do have two books in my Punishers series that have a little of this, but it’s very mild compared to others.

The second genre would be the gruesome thrillers filled with blood and gore and fighting, think John Wick. Yes, my Harvester and Vengeance Series have a lot of gore, but there’s a reason behind it. I’ve read books with more gore than plot. Not my style.

The third is LGBTQ literature. I know nothing about same-sex relationships, and rather than offend, I’ll simply live and let live and stay out of their lives. I have several friends in same-sex relationships and friends with gay children. We get along fine but exploring and describing their relationships just isn’t anything we do. They sat out of my bedroom, and I stay out of theirs.

The last genre would be hot books that border on pornography. Am I a prude? Probably. At 72 there are a lot of things out there that just don’t do it for me and that includes bondage, and other stuff involving strange equipment and practices. Have I tried it? No? Do I want to? No. Am I judging it? No, but I’m not going to write about it either. I’m a firm believer in letting the reader fill in the gaps in those scenes. In my novels, there might be some mild sex scenes, but for the most part the action takes place behind closed doors.

And that’s it! Want to see what others think? https://www.insecurewriterssupportgroup.com/p/iwsg-sign-up.html

Welcome to another episode of Tuesday Tales. Already September. Back when I was working, I dreaded the end of summer and the start to another school year. Now, I’m using the time to travel before winter sets in. This week, our Tuesday Tales prompt is sign. Every time I see the word the song plays through my head. I’m continuing with Pumpkin Spice. Enjoy!

Knowing I had every right to be there, instead of knocking as the sign requested, I opened the door and ducked as a streak of blue and yellow whizzed by me. Where had she come from? Outside? Impossible.

“Ack!”

The bird stopped and landed on the table beside me.

“Hester, you scared the living daylights out of me,” I scolded. “You’re supposed to be downstairs in your cage.” Home less than four hours and I was losing it, talking to the animals as if I believed they could understand.

The bird cocked her head in a “so what?” gesture, before flying off once more and heading up to the second floor. So much for staying in the storeroom.

“Hello?” I called, inhaling the aroma of fresh coffee and bacon. “Mrs. Sloan?”

A heavyset woman in navy stretch pants and a bright pink shirt, an apron wrapped around her belly, stepped out of the kitchen.

“Can I help you?” She wiped her hands on the flowered apron.

“It’s me, Anca, Selma’s niece.”

The woman’s face crinkled and then split into a grin. Stepping closer to me, she extended her hand. “Little Anca, all grown up.”

What was it these women had with the adjective “little?”

“Call me Elvira. It’s such a shame about your aunt’s fall.” She frowned. “I can’t understand how it happened.”

So, I wasn’t the only one who thought the fall suspicious. Scratching at the door, followed by a loud meow I recognized, indicated Calliope wanted into the house.

“I’ll get it.” I opened the door, admitting the cat. Before I could close it, a raccoon raced into the house and up the stairs. “Oh my God,” I cried. “What was that?”

Beside me, Elvira Sloan was doubled over with laughter, unable to speak.

I glanced up the stairs. The animal I’d mistaken for a raccoon was a large cat. The creature sat on the top step, with its tail wrapped majestically around itself. The parrot perched on the railing beside him. From here, it looked like they were conversing quietly.

“That’s Peanut, the newest member of the menagerie,” Elvira said as soon as she could speak. “He’s a Maine Coon cat, and while most people are surprised the first time they see him, your face…” She started to laugh again. “Did no one mention him to you?”

If they had, they’d left out a few details. This animal was huge!

“I thought he was a kitten.”

That’s it. Stay safe and don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales

Sometimes, love just happens. When you find that special someone, hopefully it’s convenient. But what if it’s not? What if you’re madly in love with a coworker? Workplace romance can sometimes be complicated, but always unique.

Made For Me by Natalie Ann, USA Today bestselling author: Will the grief two coworkers experienced in their lives bring them together and help them heal or will the stress of the workplace gossip get to be too much and threaten to crumble what they’d just discovered?

Sweet Obsession by Suzanne Jenkins, USA Today bestselling author: Annette’s life revolves around the ski resort her grandfather started. She has only one goal, to make sure the success of Sugarloaf Mountain continues. And there’s no time for romance until she hires Christopher Santos as the new trail crew boss.

Undercover Justice by Cynthia Cooke, USA Today bestselling author: An undercover cop set on a collision course with a handsome youth minister must keep him and the kids in his youth group from falling into the hands of a brutal killer.

Letting Go by Jacquie Biggar, USA Today bestselling author: A coming-of-age novel about the pain of misconceptions and learning from them. When life gives you lemons…

Sing Me A Soap Opera by Susan Jean Ricci, USA Today bestselling author: A fantasy author gets strong-armed by her publisher to abandon her genre and write a romance about falling in love with a coworker. The challenge? Obtaining a job and penning the romantic details based on true experience.

Not My Boss by Rachelle Ayala, USA Today bestselling author: Can office pranks, HR violations, and a doggy fashion show get Dixie the divorce she thinks she wants?

Trouble With Eden by Susanne Matthews, International Bestselling author: Sharing her home and the boss’s chair may be more than a little challenging.

Get your copy today! https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09WMQJWC5

Sneak Peek at Trouble with Eden

Book Blurb:

Can two lonely strangers find love and happiness through a caring man’s bequest?

Fantasy author Jackson Rivers is fed up with the world. He wants to hide away from everyone and everything and focus on his books, preferring the worlds he creates in his mind to the real deal. When he discovers he’s inherited a house and a service station in a rural part of Eastern Ontario, he sees it as the answer to prayer. He may only own half of both, but surely he and the coheir can come to some arrangement? After all, he just wants to be left alone, and a house in the country sounds perfect. Sadly, an encounter with a moose changes everything, and when he meets the other heir, not a man as he’d envisioned but a woman, the embodiment of his newest fantasy heroine, his priorities change. Maybe it’s time to let someone else into his life, and this woman is the ideal choice.

Eden-Jane Walford, E J to friends, wants her life to stay exactly the way it is—unfettered—able to come and go as she pleases, living in her childhood home, answering to no one but herself and the dad she adores. But fate tosses a monkey wrench into things. She’s a Class A mechanic and tow truck operator for Paradise Service Station and Towing, her adoptive father’s company, but when he dies suddenly, she’s in for a surprise. While he leaves half of his estate to her, the other half goes to a stranger, who just happens to be his biological son and knows absolutely nothing about the business. Sharing her home and the boss’s chair with this man will be more than a little challenging, especially when he’s the first man she’s been drawn to since her disastrous engagement fell through. Will the sparks between them lead to love or war?

E J stood and stomped her foot, her hands fisted at her side, fighting tears of fear and frustration. Once more, she’d worked her ass off all night, handling twice the number of calls that she usually did, and for what? This? What she wanted right this minute was her bed and at least four hours of uninterrupted sleep—and maybe half a bottle of brandy first to make sure she got it. She’d tried to beg off, pleaded exhaustion, but the lawyer had insisted on seeing her today. She’d put this visit off for more than three weeks, and now she wished she hadn’t. This was too much, the proverbial straw that had broken the camel’s back—and hers.

EXERPT:

“You’ve got to be frigging kidding me, Uncle Eli,” she cried, anger and disbelief strong in her voice. She crossed her arms tightly, her hands still fisted. “There’s another heir? A son?”

Dwayne Walford hadn’t been the easiest man to live with, hardworking but set in his ways. If he decided the sky was green, then you’d better just agree with him and move on. Once he made up his mind, nothing and no one could change it. Still, he’d been a good father and had loved her mother, sticking with her, doing the best he could for her until the cancer finally took her. Once her mother had passed, Dwayne had continued to care for the twelve-year-old he’d adopted, loving her, giving her a home, a name, and an education—even if it were an unorthodox one—and he’d given her a job she loved. She’d adored the man, the only father she remembered, her own having died when she was two.

Losing Dwayne so unexpectedly was much harder than she’d imagined—and now this. Never in the twenty-five-years that she’d lived with him had Dad mentioned having a biological child of his own. Had her mother known? Now, he’d left half of Paradise Service Station and Towing to his son, along with half of the house. Her home and her job gone, just like that.

Dwayne, what in God’s name were you thinking?

“Why did you wait so long to tell me this?” E J pleaded.

“It wasn’t my fault, young lady. You were the one who was always too busy to sit down with me. If I hadn’t forced the issue, you wouldn’t even be here now. I realize the suddenness of his death was hard, you had to follow Dwayne’s wishes—no service, cremated, and his ashes in with your mother’s, and of course you’re down a man at the garage, but I told you this was important.”

“Three actually, four if you count the gas pump jockey who quit last week,” she corrected. “Dad was trying to hire more staff, but while there may be work, finding qualified people to do it isn’t all that easy. Easton Corners isn’t exactly party-central.”

And yet, people were clamoring to buy the land. The distance to Ottawa and the proximity of the 417 made the area ripe for a bedroom community. Embrun, Casselman, and Marionville had all profited from it, why not Easton Corners? Wasn’t it only last month, a couple of days before his fall, that the real estate agent had called again? Dad had stood firm. Maybe it would’ve been better if he had sold the place. Losing it this way would be far worse.

She huffed out a breath. Uncle Eli was right, but every time he’d wanted to see Dad, he’d claimed it was important—most of the time it hadn’t been. She’d avoided this, expecting it to be fairly routine, but never would she have expected a complication like this.

“So let me get this straight. I’m living in a house that’s no longer mine, working for a company that belongs to a stranger.”

“Yes and no,” the lawyer said, his voice with its lazy maritime drawl grating on her frazzled nerves. For years, she’d called this man Uncle Eli; now, he might as well be a complete stranger.

The man sat behind his desk, his reading glasses perched on the end of his nose, a plexiglass shield separating him from her, but neither of them wore masks. “The house was never yours, Eden. It belonged to Dwayne, although I suppose you considered it yours having lived there most of your life. We all think of our parents’ houses that way. They’re home, and for most of us, they’ll always be that. When I go back to Newfoundland each summer, I feel the same way about my mother’s house, too, even though the place was sold to a cousin years ago. It’s natural.”

Great. He wanted to argue semantics while she might be out on her ear.

“You’re actually better off now than you were. The personal funds in the bank and the insurance policy are all yours, free and clear. You’ve got money, plenty of it. You can leave here, travel, do whatever you please. As well, you own half of the estate which includes the house, the business, and its assets. Your truck may have the company logo on it, but your father put it in your name and not the company’s last year. Dwayne did his best for you. He left you well provided for.”

“I know that, Uncle Eli, it’s just … discovering I have a brother … It’s a shock.”

The lawyer shook his head. “He’s not your brother, Eden. You and Mr. Rivers aren’t related in any way. At best, he’s your business partner who just happens to own half of the house, too. I suppose if it’s easier, you can refer to him as your stepbrother if you want to, but with both of your parents dead, even a step relationship is moot. I contacted Mr. Rivers as soon as Dwayne passed, explaining that you would look after things the way Dwayne had until he could come to Easton Corners and Cornwall, and we could get things ironed out. He was supposed to be here with you this morning. For the record, he wasn’t aware of your existence or Dwayne’s either.”

Where has the summer gone? Here it is the last week of August. Welcome to this week’s Tuesday Tales. Our word prompt is YELLOW. I continue with Pumpkin Spice.

“Before I forget, Dr. Tanner told me to come back to the hospital for five. He’ll call when she’s out of surgery.”

Roberta nodded. “He’ll stay with her for a few hours. He usually does after one of his patients undergoes surgery. Mercy Egan’s a fine surgeon like her uncle was. Sometimes, she stays the night here after surgery before going back to Boston.”

My brain slammed on the brakes. Mercy? Mercy Egan? No wonder the name was familiar. She was the woman Walt had introduced me to at his father’s funeral, the woman I’d assumed he’d married, the woman I presumed had been the mother of his children, but that was impossible. The room vanished, and a clearer memory of that sad day filled my mind. The tall blonde by his side had hazel eyes and a friendly smile.

“Squirt, this is Mercy Egan, she’s a fellow resident in New York City. We drove down in her car. She has family in Marblehead.”

I blinked, and the vision vanished. I licked my lips. “That name sounds familiar. I think I met her at Mr. Tanner’s funeral.”

“You might have. Her uncle and Mr. Tanner were close friends. Dr. Egan practiced here in Salem until he retired and moved to Florida two years ago. Mercy and Walt were in medical school together and then did their residence in the same hospital. Dr. T worked there until he came home and started his own practice. Dr. Egan moved to Boston a couple of years ago after she married. She sometimes comes to Salem to help out with difficult cases.”

“She’s not married to Walt?” I blurted, before my brain screamed, you know this. His wife’s name is Aasha.

Roberta laughed. “The only thing Dr. Tanner is married to is his job. Between the clinic and his patients, he has no time for anyone or anything else. More’s the pity.”

A yellow neon sign flashed in my mind. Walt’s Not Married. It took everything in me not to jump up and scream hooray! And then imaginary ice water got dumped on my head.

“But the children—” She cocked her head. “Are my grandchildren. You thought they were his?” She laughed. “My son, Rick, is married to Aasha. He’s a long-haul trucker. When she’s working, I babysit the kids.

That’s it. Stay safe and don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales