Welcome to this week’s Tuesday Tales, the weekly blog post where a select group of authors share their work in progress with you. I’m working on a romantic comedy entitled, Make Mine a Manhattan. This week’s word is PASTE. I used PASTING, a variation of the word. Enjoy.
Pasting a fake smile on my face, I turned to the man and began rubbing at the stain on his shirt and pants, praying they wouldn’t stain; otherwise, I would be expected to cough up for replacement designer clothes that cost more than my annual tax bill. My new t-shirt was probably ruined, and that annoyed me more, causing me to rub harder.
I stopped dead, my heart pounding out a primitive beat, my lungs refusing to function.
While the stranger had to be at least six foot six, I was barely five feet tall. Most of the coffee stain was on his crotch, a fact my addled brain had ignored. My hand was essentially massaging that area of his anatomy, and I could feel something cylindrical growing hard under it.
I jumped away as if I’d been tasered. The old, Is that a flashlight in your pocket or are you happy to see me? joke ripped through my mind, and I smothered a giggle.
“Robin, you’re just making it worse,” my mother said, handing the man the pile of napkins. “Perhaps you would like to step into the washroom, sir?”
The man grunted and reached for the napkins. I couldn’t help noticing his hands. Whoever I’d collided with had the hands of a pianist, with long tapered fingers. What would it be like to have hands like that caress my body?
Mother of God! What is wrong with me?
As soon as he moved away, I rushed out the door, jogging the three blocks home faster than I’d ever run them before, grateful that at seven in the morning, the street was all but deserted.
The minute I stepped inside the house, I collapsed into the chair, a sudden fit of giggles taking my breath away. I laughed until my sides ached. In my mind’s eye, I pictured the scene and dissolved into giggles again.
Of course Mom would place the blame for this squarely on me … the wayward daughter who never did anything right.
Shakespeare wandered into the living room and meowed a welcome.
“It served him right,” I began explaining the incident to my companion. “Had he been the requisite six feet away, he would’ve escaped his fate, and I would now be finishing my iced cappuccino.”
I pulled off the damp and badly stained t-shirt, dismayed to find my new sports’ bra equally stained.
Stay safe and don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales
Have you ever purchased a lottery ticket? Have you ever dreamed of a surprise inheritance? Have you ever imagined what your life might be like if someone suddenly dropped a fortune in your lap? You aren’t unique. We all dream of enough money to allow us to do whatever we want to. It’s human nature to want to be happy, well fed, well clothed, well cared for, and maybe help others along the way.
Over the years, fortunes have come and gone. Wars have been fought over land, gold, fishing rights, religion–you name it. One day you pick a rising stock on the market, the next day, you don’t. Everything that happens to you is a combination of hard work and fate.
The Golden Legacy traces a stolen treasure and the way if affects the lives of those who touch it. Amassed by an ancient civilization, blood is shed when…
Brazen – Daring – in both their dedication to Love and Service.
Seven stories of men and women who have pledged their lives to help others. Their hearts are reserved – held in check and on pause – while working. When that certain someone comes into their lives, passions flare no matter where they are.
BRAZEN PROTECTORS: PROTECT AND DESIRE Volume 4 continues the Romantic Suspense Series with more engaging tales of heroes and heroines taking command in unlikely situations, these champions just as provocative as they are brave.
Stacy Eaton: Kayley, Loving a Young Series, Book 5 (NEW) What will her family think when she brings home a younger man?USA Today Bestselling Author
Callie Bardot: The One-Thirty Fighting fires is easy–it’s in Griffin’s blood. But yielding to intimacy is a fire that might prove too hot. USA Today & NY Times Bestselling Author
Each month, I try to participate in the IWSG’s monthly blog hop. Some months the questions are easier to answer than others. This month’s is really a complicated one for me and it’s not a writing style that will work for many although it does for me.
June 2 question – For how long do you shelve your first draft, before reading it and re-drafting? Is this dependent on your writing experience and the number of stories/books under your belt?
The simple answer is never. I commit what many authors and editors believe is the greatest mistake in writing with every single book I write. I edit as I go. I’m a pantser. I don’t work from an outline, a synopsis, or goals and motivations chart. Each time I sit at my desk to add to my story, I go back over the material previously written and edit it for content, if something struck me later in the story, for spelling, grammar, sentence structure, or even simply to move sentences and paragraphs around if I think the story will flow better. Then, I’ll move on to the new content and flesh out the scenes. At least a dozen times in every book, I will stop where I am and go back to the beginning, rereading, and where necessary rewriting what I have written.
When I get to the end of a book, I may rewrite the ending a couple of times until I’m satisfied that all the plot threads have been tied. I’ll go back to the beginning once more and revise the draft until I can’t find a single change to make. If I’m satisfied that it’s the best it can be, I will send it to be critiqued. If my critique partner suggests a change, I’ll act on it, and then I’ll publish the book.
How long the whole process lasts depends on the complexity of the book and whatever else is going on in my life. Writing this way isn’t for everybody, but it’s what works for me. Having written 33 books to date, and expecting to publish at least three more this year, I prefer to stick with what works for me.
Welcome to June and this week’s Tuesday Tales, the weekly blog post where a small group of authors share their Work in progress with you, the readers. Today’s word prompt is SALT. I’m continuing with my romantic comedy, Make Mine a Manhattan.
Since I work better with inspiration, here’s the cover.
This was the icing on my sucks-to-be-me day! Wouldn’t the mayor be happy knowing he’d avoided setting up his big buyer with the Queen of Klutz and Bad Luck?
“Oh my God,” Mom cried. “What have you done? I swear when God was handing out clumsiness, you asked for a double dose. Don’t you ever watch where you’re going?”
Where I’m going? Injured party here!
Speechless, I gaped at the huge, wet spot spreading across the man’s tan shirt and khaki pants, scarcely noticing the fact that my white cotton t-shirt was as wet. Tilting my head up, I stared at the face hidden behind his mask, mirrored sunglasses, and the brim of his Panama hat. When had I ever seen a man with such broad shoulders? To rub a little salt into the wound of my humiliation, despite my mask, the aroma of his aftershave tickled my nose, and I sneezed.
Heat filled my cheeks. No doubt the top half of my face was as red as a ripe tomato, and considering I had carrot-colored hair, currently pulled up into a messy bun on the top of my head, it wouldn’t be a good look on me. I peered at the mess I’d made, suddenly aware of the fact that my tightened nipples were poking out of my wet shirt.
Mortification mixed with indignation, and my brain clicked into gear. I set the empty cup on the table beside me and tried to cover my wet chest with my arms.
The stranger just stood there, looking down on me.
Not known for my patience and diplomacy, I lashed out at him in a tone worthy of Katerina in The Taming of the Shrew.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you were there. Of course, if you hadn’t been standing right on my ass, we might’ve avoided the collision. Or don’t you know what six feet away means?”
He hissed in a sharp breath but didn’t speak, no doubt because he knew I was right.
Mom raced around the counter with a damp cloth and a pile of napkins.
“Don’t just stand there, do something.”
Gritting my teeth, I grabbed the damp cloth from her and started dabbing at the coffee on my t-shirt.
“Not you, for heaven’s sake,” Mom barked.
So much for motherly love and compassion!
Stay safe and don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales
Have you ever purchased a lottery ticket? Have you ever dreamed of a surprise inheritance? Have you ever imagined what your life might be like if someone suddenly dropped a fortune in your lap? You aren’t unique. We all dream of enough money to allow us to do whatever we want to. It’s human nature to want to be happy, well fed, well clothed, well cared for, and maybe help others along the way.
Over the years, fortunes have come and gone. Wars have been fought over land, gold, fishing rights, religion–you name it. One day you pick a rising stock on the market, the next day, you don’t. Everything that happens to you is a combination of hard work and fate.
The Golden Legacy traces a stolen treasure and the way if affects the lives of those who touch it. Amassed by an ancient civilization, blood is shed when it’s stolen, and a shaman curses it. Those who murdered for it die, but those who sacrificed to save themselves from those pirates, are given a second chance. Do good with the treasure, and you will prosper; do poorly, and it will be lost until someone worthy comes along.
FIVE stories of passion and excitement, all the result of THE GOLDEN LEGACY.
The legacy of a pirate treasure is either a curse or a blessing depending on if it’s used for good or evil.
Early in the 1700s, a modest merchant ship sailing the Caribbean is attacked by pirates. Although smaller, The Golden Fleece bested the brigands’ craft loaded with a treasure trove of gold and jewels. The last words of a dying pirate claimed the Incas had cursed anyone who misused the treasure but anyone who used it for good would be blessed. The greedy merchant captain was killed during the battle, but his 18-year-old daughter survived. Mindful of the curse and to thank God for their salvation, she asked the crew members to split the treasure equally. They made a binding pledge to keep only twenty percent for their own use and give ten percent to help others. With the rest, each was to buy something of great value that could be given to their descendants. The curse, though, would be passed onto anyone who broke the oath and used the gains selfishly. Love survives despite the trauma of pirates, kidnappings, and murder; villains and slave uprisings, lies and deceptions. Travel from the eighteenth to twenty-first century and find what perils and pleasure await in this box set collection of romance stories based on the purloined pirates’ treasure of THE GOLDEN LEGACY from USA Today and NY Times Bestselling Authors.
THE PRISONER RETURNS by Nancy Radke: His love for her means more than his inheritance. He’s willing to lose it all to save the woman he loves.
TWIST OF FATE by Susanne Matthews: Can a cursed treasure unite two lonely outcasts?
RACE FOR THE GOLD by Rebecca York: Can they stay alive and out of harm’s way long enough for her to enjoy her inheritance?
DANGEROUS INHERITANCE by Nancy Radke: Great wealth can bring great problems – including kidnapping and murder – and may make it harder to protect the woman you love.
THE PRICE OF LOVE by Katy Walters: Two couples find love as they deal with murderous family members and a mysterious time portal while trying to stay alive long enough to enjoy a generous inheritance.
The saga begins with Twist of Fate. An outcast from the streets of Scotland finds a difficult but rewarding life for himself aboard a merchant ship. His life isn’t easy, but over time, he’s earned the respect of his captain and the crew. When the ship is forced into battle with a pirate vessel, he risks his live to save the captain. Alas his brave attempt is doomed as the captain dies and Overton loses an arm. Out of respect fro his sacrifice, the captain’s daughter gives him a share of the unexpected treasure. What will the one-armed man do with his bounty? Read Twist of Fate and begin the journey!
Four authors, five thrilling stories. The Golden Legacy is only 99cents USD or free to read on Kindle Unlimited. Get your copy today!
Reviewed in the United States on March 27, 2021Some pirates are good. Some are great.
A Twist of Fate
Five out of five fairy kisses for this reader
This is a grand story of love that shouldn’t have happened. An ex-pirate with a sense to make things right, well before his time, and a blind orphan who’s grown into a lovely young woman but overlooked and forgotten as not good enough.
Welcome to the last post for the month of May. How time flies! This weeks word prompt is PICNIC. In the past we often at picnics at this time of year. Not sure when those activities will happen again. I’m continuing with Make Mine a Manhattan
“Good Lord, don’t tell me you’re watching porn or chatting with some stranger who could well be a serial killer.”
“Mother! I don’t know where you get your ideas, but no!”
I shook my head, rolled my eyes, and reached for my cappuccino. And here I thought I was the one with the wild imagination. It was perfectly acceptable to send me on a blind date with a stranger who had money and might invest it in the town, but if I were to meet anyone online, he would be the next Jeffrey Dahmer.
“Forget it. You wouldn’t understand. You never have.” I stepped back. “I have to get home and feed Shakespeare.”
My mother turned and glared at me.
“You treat that cat better than you treat the members of your own family. Fine. I’ll call Franklin and make some excuse, but you’ll regret not helping out when the town needed you. If Stargazer Enterprise does reopen the mountain, having a close personal relationship with the CEO would be quite advantageous.”
Would she never give up? On the defensive now, I harrumphed.
“Since when does a blind date barbecue picnic I have no intention of attending morph into a close personal relationship? Forget it, Mom. I’m not the sacrificial virgin ready to be tossed into the volcano to save the town. Unless you agree not to harp on this again, I’m not coming back for lunch with Callie and Mickey.”
The bell rang announcing the arrival of another customer.
Thank you, Lord.
“Fine,” Mom agreed, but her tone made it clear she wasn’t happy about it. “Maybe he doesn’t need a date per se. There will be plenty of single women there. I’ll see you at one thirty sharp.”
She frowned, her mask moving up her face almost obliterating her eyes.
I sighed, knowing full well that this wouldn’t be the end of it, but if I didn’t make lunch, I wouldn’t survive the lecture that was sure to follow.
“I’ll be here.”
Turning abruptly, I collided with the mountain behind me, splashing my iced capp all over both of us, the beige froth settling and melting on top of his loafers.
A collective gasp filled the room, and I was suddenly aware of the dozens of gazes fixed on me. There was Frank, the town mechanic and Sylvia who ran the dry cleaners. Was that Mayor Loucks?
Stay safe and don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales
Brazen – Daring – in both their dedication to Love and Service.
Seven stories of men and women who have pledged their lives to help others. Their hearts are reserved – held in check and on pause – while working. When that certain someone comes into their lives, passions flare no matter where they are.
BRAZEN PROTECTORS: PROTECT AND DESIRE Volume 4 continues the Romantic Suspense Series with more engaging tales of heroes and heroines taking command in unlikely situations, these champions just as provocative as they are brave.
Stacy Eaton: Kayley, Loving a Young Series, Book 5 (NEW) What will her family think when she brings home a younger man?USA Today Bestselling Author
Callie Bardot: The One-Thirty Fighting fires is easy–it’s in Griffin’s blood. But yielding to intimacy is a fire that might prove too hot. USA Today & NY Times Bestselling Author
Rachelle Ayala: Hold My Love, Desiring Danger #5 (NEW) Framed for the murder of a congressional aide, Kevin Colson aims out to take down the real killers—with a little help from loud-mouthed drama queen, Virgie Rivera. USA Today Bestselling Author
Patricia Rosemoor: Deception Deception clashes with desire when an undercover bodyguard gets too close to the woman he’s sworn to protect. NY Times & USA Today Bestselling Author
Mimi Barbour: Special Agent Maximilian Identical twins but different men – she loves both! NY Times & USA Today Bestselling Author
Taylor Lee: Line of Fire Discover how challenging elections can be when sex and violence are in the mix. USA Today Bestselling Author
Susanne Matthews: Secrets and Lies Graduating from school is easy, getting out alive may be a whole lot harder. International Bestselling Author
Here’s a peek at Secrets and Lies:
El Paso, Texas
May 1
“How could you do it, Kyle?” Emily Jacobson Shepherd, her cheeks burning, fought to maintain some semblance of her dignity, but it was a losing battle. “How could you lie to me? I know you’re my boss, but damn it, I thought you were my friend. I needed to know the truth. I had a right to honesty, not secrets and lies.”
She sat on one of the hard wooden chairs across from Kyle Kavanagh’s desk, fervently wishing she’d opted to stand, although by now that too would’ve been decidedly uncomfortable. She’d run the gamut of emotions these past eighteen months, but nothing matched her current fury.
“Be reasonable, Emily. I didn’t know for sure until they recovered those bodies in Mexico. Like you, I believed he’d died in that blast.” He ran his hand through his sparse ginger hair. “Contradictory information started trickling in about a year ago, but it was just speculation. Not even my source inside the cartel was positive. It could’ve been nothing more than a copycat, a wanna-be distributor in the organization, trying to capitalize on the Chef’s reputation. At the time, I wasn’t sure you would be able to come back, let alone want to. I figured it was better to let sleeping dogs lie. You didn’t need to know about conflicting rumors, not when you were in such pain. I assumed that if you continued to think he was dead, you would be able to heal and move on.”
“Assumed? Nothing good has ever come from assumptions,” she scoffed. “There are some things you can’t forget, and moving on? Well, that’s another matter. You didn’t have the right to decide what I needed or didn’t need. It was my life he ruined. I demand justice. I deserve it.”
“Justice? Are you sure that’s what you want?”
“Of course it is. I’m a DEA agent. It’s what I do—what I need.”
The Chef was alive! She tried to get her head around it, still too stunned to appreciate what those four words implied. The bastard wasn’t one of the unidentified corpses they’d found in the warehouse.
Kyle had suspected the truth for almost a year, and yet he’d let her go on believing her enemy was gone. Knowing that monster was still out there, praying on the innocent and luckless, would’ve helped her get back on her feet sooner. Instead, she’d wallowed in months of self-pity, regretting the losses she’d suffered, and feeling cheated because her nemesis would never pay for the crimes he’d committed. Death in that explosion would’ve been the easy way out.
She wanted justice, but she also wanted him to suffer, like she had, like she still did. Not a day went by that didn’t bring the pain and loss back to the forefront. Not a night went by when she didn’t cry herself to sleep in her big empty bed in the mausoleum that was her home.
The Chef had forfeited his men the way a chess player sacrificed his pawns. Those poor buggers probably hadn’t realized they were the equivalent of the guys in the red shirts on Star Trek. Alex had loved the sci-fi series and always joked that the extras in the red shirts should get danger pay since they were sure to die within the first few minutes of the episode—that was unless of course they were engineers. Like the Enterprise’s Montgomery Scott, the Chef always managed to make it out in one piece. Despite his age and educational background, Alex had been superstitious and had refused to wear red shirts, citing the precedent, and yet wearing a blue shirt hadn’t saved him or the others who’d walked into the trap with him.
By some miracle, she’d survived, but look at the price she’d paid.
“This is my case, has always been my case, and now that I’m back, I should be the one to follow through on it.”
She was so angry with the agent-in-charge of the El Paso Division of the DEA that she was shaking and gripped her hands together to hide it. How dare he presume she could ever go on not knowing the truth?
A slip of the tongue from a visiting agent and friend had changed everything and given her a reason to live once more. Badgering her doctor, she’d convinced him to let her return to full duties. The days and nights of feeling sorry for herself were over. Her life had purpose again, and that goal was to put the Chef out of business once and for all.
“Despite what you’ve heard, we don’t know exactly where he is, but we know where he’s been. We’ve got someone on the inside now, and our informant says he’s on the move. I’ll see what I can do about getting you reassigned to the case, but Emily, it isn’t up to me alone. The brass has to sign off on this, and given the situation, I’m not sure they will.”
Kyle was vacillating, passing the buck as it were, and she didn’t like it one damn bit. He owed her.
“Then you need to convince them I’m the best person for the job. I’m not an idiot, Kyle,” she argued, frustration giving her voice an unnecessary edge. “I’m a frigging bionic woman now. People with artificial limbs like mine return to their regular jobs every day. Soldiers go back into the field, and it’s time I did, too. It’s taken me more than a year to accept what happened to me, and I’ll be damned if I let him steal any more of my life. I’m either a DEA agent returned to full duty, or I’m not, and you’ll have my resignation on your desk as fast as I can print and sign it. But one thing is certain, I will find him even if I have to do it on my own and spend every last cent I have tracking him down.”
“Don’t be stupid. Going after him without the resources of this office to back you up would be suicide. You’re smarter than that. You’ve gone through hell to get where you are today. Why would you chance throwing it all away?” he asked, calling her bluff.
She shrugged and smiled. “Because I have nothing left to lose. Suicide or not, he’s mine, and I’ll see he pays for what he did to me and to Alex. You’ve always said any of the undercover operations we handle can turn deadly in the blink of an eye. While I never really believed that before, I do now. I was there the last time we almost had the Chef, remember? I have the internal and external scars to prove it.”
“You don’t know what you’re asking.”
“I do. I’m asking to finish the job that got my husband and my son killed and left me like this.”
Get this book and six other great novels for only 99 cents USD or free in Kindle Unlimited.
Welcome to this week’ edition of Tuesday Tales. I’m continuing with Make Mine a Manhattan. Picture prompt posts are limited to 300 words.
Here is the picture I chose.
“Take one for the town? Just what are you suggesting, Mother? I’m perfectly happy without a prick between my legs or anywhere else,” I hissed through clenched teeth.
“Sydney Robin Langford, you watch your mouth. I didn’t raise you to speak like that and you know it. That is most definitely not what I meant. There are decent folks in here who want to enjoy a quiet cup of coffee without listening to your foul language. The way you’re behaving these days, I swear you’ve become anti-social. Maybe you should see Doctor Edwards. You could’ve started premature menopause.”
I exhaled forcefully. I couldn’t say prick, but my mother, in the same quiet tone a five-year-old uses to whisper, could inform the town that her thirty-three year old daughter was menopausal.
“Mom, I’m sorry, but I don’t have time to play nice-nice with some rich carpetbagger who’ll probably walk away from the deal anyway.”
“You’re too busy? I doubt that. You’re the only person I know who actually enjoyed all those months of quarantine. If I hadn’t insisted you come to dinner last night, you would’ve brushed off your sister and your nephew as well as your dad and me. So tell me, Miss Too-Good-to-Do-The-Town-A-Simple-Favor, what is it that you’re working on? And don’t say school work because you started summer vacation last week.”
“I’m … I’m working on a special course—something online,” I stammered, the half-lie slipping out of my mouth. “You’re always working on something online. The governor says that the kids will be going back to in-classroom learning this fall, so you can quit trying to develop those—what did you call them? Oh yes—innovative and exciting online lessons.” Her eyes narrowed. “I was reading about screen time dependency. Are you addicted to video games?
Stay safe and don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales
Great News! My good friend and fellow author has a new book out and here’s a taste of it.
Touch Me Alinta Bay #4
by Iris Blobel
Blurb:
She loves the feel of his skin beneath her hands …
Lexie Marshall packs up and moves 3,000 km east with her daughter Zoe, to forget and move on. Now, all that matters is her daughter and her new job. She tries hard to stay focussed, but the sexy and extremely kind park ranger, Jesse, is not making it easy. And when her husband shows up in the small coastal town creating chaos, all she can do is hang on and trust her new friends.
After his last girlfriend walked out on him, Jesse Parker is doing just fine on his own. Until his accidental meeting with single mother Lexie, when he rescues her and her daughter from getting lost in the forest. But when her past catches up with her, he is right in the middle of it all and it might ruin his career.
Will returning to her old life be the only chance to save his career?
Lexie Marshall looked around, seeing nothing but trees. Worry crept into her mind. It’d been a while since they’d seen another soul. The old farmer on the tractor had warned them, but she’d been certain she had known the way back to the car.
“Mum, are you sure you know where you’re going?” Zoe asked.
Loosely circling her shoulders to rid herself of the kink in them, Lexie replied, “Sweetie, I’m sure we’re almost there. It can’t be far.”
“Such a stupid idea to go for a bushwalk.”
Lexie stopped and turned, looking at her daughter, undecided whether to be annoyed or feel guilty. “I thought it was a great idea. We’re stuck in that small house seven days a week with the walls closing in on us.”
Zoe met her gaze, tears shimmering in her eyes. “Not my fault we moved here.”
Massaging the temples, she took a deep breath. “I hope we’re not going through the separation discussion again. Your dad and I drifted apart. Nothing I can do about it.”
The girl lifted her shoulder in a shrug. “That didn’t mean you have to drift all the way to this godforsaken place.”
“This godforsaken place is giving me a chance to work in my profession as a lawyer during school hours only so you’re not on your own at home.”
Zoe shrugged again. “I miss my friends.”
“Well, so do I, but I am trying to do the best in a bad situation. How about we try to get out of this jungle of trees and next weekend we’ll check the real estate agent for a bigger house?”
“We had a big house in Perth—”
Lexie looked into the distance and then back at her daughter. “Look, I get it that you’re not happy with the current situation. But I’m trying my best here.” She inhaled a long breath to calm herself. “I don’t really think this is the right place to have this discussion, but maybe the right time for you to ponder about the alternatives. Perth, big house, your mother working massive hours to afford it, which would mean you’re in after care, or Alinta Bay, small house, hopefully we’ll find something bigger soon, and I can drop you off and pick you up from school, plus we will have enough money for two holidays a year.”
Without waiting for an answer, Lexie turned again, but didn’t move. Cursing under her breath, she conceded that they were lost. And it scared her. A lot.
“Mum?”
Lexie whirled around again. “What?” But as soon as she saw her daughter’s timid look in her eyes, she apologised straight away. “I’m sorry, sweetie. But—”
Zoe shook her head. “Mum, listen,” she said just above a whisper.
Lexie focussed and followed the girl’s gaze.
“Look! A car.”
“Hallelujah,” Lexie murmured.
“Can you run?”
Hands on hips, Lexie said, “I’m old, but I’m no geriatric.”
“Well, duh, Mum. Run.”
“Wait,” she almost shouted. “We can’t just—”
“Mum, just run. You’re not wearing your glasses, are you? It’s the Park Ranger vehicle.”
Shaking her head at her own embarrassment, but also at her clever daughter, she rushed after Zoe through the forest, literally over sticks and stones. Worried about her daughter stopping a stranger’s car, Park Ranger or not, she screamed, “Wait, Zoe. Wait for me!”
Without looking back, her daughter replied, “No way I’m letting this guy drive off.”
When Lexie stopped a couple of minutes later in front of the Ranger’s truck, she placed her hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath.
“Mum got us lost.”
The Ranger came around the car and placed his hand on Lexie’s arm, “Ma’am, are you okay?”
She straightened. “I’m okay. Embarrassed, my ego dinted, and having aged by about ten years, but I’m okay.”
His deep chuckle invaded her senses with its warmth and did something to her. And it’d been a while since a man had stirred something inside her, not since … she pushed the thought of her husband away, as well as the flutter in her stomach, trying to deal with the problem at hand.
Living the Dream 