Living the Dream

We’ve all had days we thought would never end, but yesterday, October 5, 2022, was definitely the longest day of my life. My husband underwent what’s called an AAA repair. It makes him sound like a car with a flat tire, but it’s actually Abdominal Aortic Aneurysm surgery. Luckily, they discovered he had one when they put stents in his heart eight years ago. They’ve been watching it and decided that it had grown large enough, and it was time to do something about it. The joy of Canadian medicine is that all those medical processes cost us nothing. They are paid for in our taxes, and while some might complain about it, knowing you can get the best of care when and where you need it is priceless. Kudos to the surgeons and nurses at the Ottawa Hospital, Civic Campus for taking such good care of him.

We showed up at the hospital at 5:45 a.m. By 6:20, he was on his way to pre-op, and I was on my way back to the hotel where I’m staying and getting a little work done in between hospital visits. It made more sense to do that than to spend two to three hours on the road driving back and forth each day. From where I am, I can walk to the hospital in twenty minutes.

There’s something unique about a crisp morning walk during sunrise. I usually wait until it’s light out, but the muted colors in the sky were soothing and calming. By the time I got back to the room, I was in pretty good shape and able to tackle working on my new book … not quite. My brain started ticking off the minutes. I knew his surgery was scheduled to start at 8:30 a.m. and end at 1:50 p.m. That was a long time to be under anesthesia, but the surgeon had said that his heart and lungs were good. All I had to do was pray and believe that would be true.

I have never had such a slow and unproductive morning, unable to focus, forgetting what I’d written within seconds of doing so. The many messages of hugs and prayers from friends kept my spirits up. My sister-in-law and her friend had come to Ottawa to be at my disposal. I can never thank Marilyn and Donna enough for their support. I went out to get some lunch, ate, and then settled down to wait. When the phone rang at 2:15, my stomach rose to my mouth. I was shaking so hard, I had trouble sliding the button to answer.

It was great news. The surgery had gone well and he was in recovery. I was to call ICU in a few hours. After a good cry, I messaged and called family and friends, and then Donna and Marilyn took me for a walk to admire the fall colors.

After I got back to the hotel, I contacted ICU and was thrilled to hear that he was awake and talking. The nurse suggested I visit in the evening which I did. There’s no describing the joy and relief I felt seeing him sitting up and smiling, the only tubes and wires escaping him the basic ones used to monitor him, what you would expect to find on anyone after minor, not major surgery. What was most amazing was how alert he was. I can recall the aftermath of surgery for myself and I was far from that lucid less than seven hours out of the OR. He was joking, making wisecracks via my phone with our daughter and grandkids, setting me and them at ease. I crawled into bed at 10:15 p.m., ending the longest day of my life, and allowing me to get some much-needed sleep. I can’t thank God enough for getting him through this. He still has a long way to go, but he will come through it, and we will have more time together. Fifty-one years just isn’t long enough. So many people aren’t as lucky as we are.

Now, as I get ready to visit for the day, my spirits are in much better shape thanks to the relief and a good night’s sleep, I’ll be spending the afternoon at the hospital with him and working a bit tonight. Who knows, the book I’ve struggled with thanks to all the stress just may get finished after all.

Never take your loved ones for granted and cherish every second you’re given together. I know I will.

Welcome to October. This week’s Tuesday Tales word prompt is ORANGE. I’m continuing with Pumpkin Spice.

“Where’s your aunt?” he asked, undressing me with his eyes. I looked away, feeling the burn start in my toes and move up. “I wanted to ask her a couple of questions about the jetty.”

Most people around here called it a dock or a pier.

“Maybe I can answer them for you.” I backed into the wall trying to move away from him. I responded with a fake smile of my own—I’d had years of practice. “Unfortunately, Aunt Selma had an accident last night.”

Louis’s head snapped up. No matter what his name was, he would be Louis the Lip to me. “An accident? Is she okay?”

The concern in his eyes was genuine. So maybe this creep was a little more honest than his boss, but the jury was still out on the others, especially Tom. I’d never seen an aura, but if Robin said theirs were dingy and murky, and filled with dark energy, I believed it. Goosebumps raced along my spine. It was a good thing that I wouldn’t be sleeping in the house. There weren’t enough locks in the world to secure the door.

“No, she isn’t. She’s broken her hip and is in surgery as we speak. With the help of Colby, Elvira, and Suzie, I’ll be taking over her responsibilities here. Nothing should change as far as you’re concerned.”

Unless you would all like to leave, which would be fine by me.

There was a brief flash of annoyance in Ralph’s eyes, but it was quickly masked. I hadn’t spoken aloud again, had I?

“But she’s going to survive?”

Was he relieved or annoyed? For some reason, I had a hard time reading the man in the orange t-shirt introduced as Emilio. He was pale, more Nordic looking than Spanish, although there was a small percentage of native blond Spaniards, but it had me wondering if his name was an alias, and if his was, what about the others? I knew the six times great uncle hadn’t been Checkley’s secretary if he’d even existed, so what was to say any of these men were who they claimed to be?

“She’ll be fine,” I answered with more confidence than I felt. “The doctor is—”

“Will The Taproom stay open, and the tours continue?” Ralph interrupted.

Jerk!

“They will.” I grinned, surely resembling the infamous Joker himself. Of all the men, I distrusted this one the most.

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

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.

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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.

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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.

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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