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Friday, March 31, 2023
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Tuesday, March 28, 2023
March Vignette - Pisces the Zodian by Linda Mooney
The light on the console sitting on
the floor by her feet came on. It also vibrated slightly, alerting her. Reaching
up, Dorrie tapped the button on her earpiece.
“What?”
“A gentleman wants a reading.”
That made her open her eyes. Men comprised
about one percent of her clientele. “Give me a minute, then send him in.”
“Gotcha.”
She reached for the fishbowl on the
bookcase behind her and set it on the table in front of her. Inside, the two
goldfish swam around, unperturbed by the slight jostling.
“Show time, girls,” Dorrie informed
them, smiling.
A soft knock on the doorframe
signaled her customer. Dorrie watched as a young man strode in, hesitating when
he spotted her sitting underneath the small canopy of silk scarves. She
gestured to the chair across from her. “Have a seat.”
Elliot.
“Thank you for coming, Elliot.”
The man’s eyes went wide. “How did
you…”
Giving him a small smile, Dorrie
tilted her head slightly. “Why don’t you sit down before you fall down?”
He did, scraping the chair across
the wood floor before parking himself in it, then scraping the floor again as
he scooted it back toward the table. Immediately, his eyes dropped to the two
fish. “You have goldfish?”
“You were expecting a crystal
ball?” she somewhat teased. The fish always confused the newcomers.
“Why, I…yes.” He grinned in
embarrassment, and the sight of it threw her off a bit. To cover herself, she
launched into her spiel.
“They are my Pisces. My psychics.
They reveal everything to me, except not in your case, Elliot. From what I can
gather, you are beset by many problems. So which one in particular drove you to
seek me out?”
“Janay never told me you told
fortunes using goldfish.”
She sat back a bit. “I don’t tell
fortunes, Elliot. I give readings.”
Anger.
“And you are very angry about
something. Are you here because of what’s angering you?”
She knew she should be accustomed
to the surprised looks that always crossed her clients’ faces. Or the guilt. Or
the amusement. Or sometimes the pure meanness. This man, however, continued to
knock her for a loop. Although she’d seen sorrow before, finding it in his blue
eyes nearly made her heart ache. She quickly backed off. “Or are you saddened
because of your anger?”
“Gee, you’re good,” he remarked.
Girlfriend.
“Tell me about your girlfriend,”
Dorrie suggested.
The sorrow was replaced by anger
again, and the man bent his head to stare, yet not stare, at his restless hands
lying on the table.
Cheating.
“You believe she’s cheating on
you?” Dorrie asked in a gentler tone.
“I know she is,” Elliot stonily
replied. “I just don’t know how to prove it. I want to show her the proof to
her face when she tries to laugh me off. And she will. She’ll just laugh it
off, like it’s some kind of joke. Pretend it’s a prank I’m pulling on her.” He
raised his face to stare at her. “I need to know where I can find the proof. If
you give me proof, I’ll come back and reward you handsomely. As an additional
thank you. Money’s no object.”
That remark hit squarely on
Dorrie’s curious bone. She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over
her chest. “What makes you think I’d be interested in your money, Elliot?”
The man grinned again, nearly
taking her breath away. “You took my money before seeing me.”
He has a point.
Oh, shut up.
Elliot pointed to the fishbowl. “So
what do your fish tell you? Can they give me at least a starting point? A clue
or hint? Hell, I’d even be happy with the name of the bastard, if they can
manage that.”
It won’t do him any good.
“It won’t do you any good,” Dorrie
informed him. “The damage has already been done.”
“Damage? What damage?”
She’s with child.
“She’s pregnant.”
To her surprise, Elliot nodded. “I
know. She’s already told me.” That lopsided, adorable grin reappeared. “Guess
I’m not the father?”
Timing’s off.
“Get in touch with her doctor.
You’ll see the timing’s off. Then once the baby’s born, you can have the DNA
tested.”
Elliot sighed. “I figured that was
it.” He snorted. “Guess that’s all the proof I was asking for.” He eyed her
again. “And you’re sure about that?”
Work trip to London. Vacation in
Cancun.
“Remember that work-related trip
you took to London? The one that took longer than expected?”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “It was only
supposed to be for a couple of months, but an unexpected delay added another month.”
“That’s why she insisted on that
vacation to Cancun as soon as you returned,” Dorrie pointed out.
He paused as he thought about it.
“Yeah. That’s when she said she’d gotten pregnant.”
“Call and have a talk with her
doctor,” Dorrie repeated. “He’ll confirm her dates.” She smiled. “And there’s
your proof. She can’t deny it or claim it’s made up.”
This time Elliot gave her a warm
smile of gratitude. “You’ve been a big help, Madam Turcov. Thank you. Thank you
very much.” As he rose to his feet, he glanced down at the bowl. “And tell your
fish thanks for me.”
She returned the smile. “They say
you’re welcome.”
She watched as he turned and left
the room. As soon as he was gone, the two fish morphed into their siren forms
and surfaced, crossing their arms on the bowl’s lip as their tails lazily
swished the water.
“He’s cute,” Tonga gushed.
Mallia agreed. “And quite the
catch, Dorrie.”
Dorrie continued to stare at the
blank doorway. “I hope it works out for him.”
“Oh, it will!” Mallia assured her.
Something in the tiny mermaid’s
voice alerted her, and Dorrie frowned. “What are you not telling me?”
Tonga snickered. “Exactly what
you’re feeling but not wanting to admit to.”
“Feeling what? Admit to what?”
“That you were smitten by him,”
Mallia confirmed.
“I was not!”
“Ha ha!” Tonga crowed. “Deny it all
you want, but we know the truth. We can read you like a book, and you know
that!”
“Thing is, he was smitten with you,
too,” Mallia confessed with a wink.
“In fact,” Tonga continued, “a week
from today, he’s going to be back with the excuse of giving you more money,
like he promised.”
“So?”
“He’s also going to ask you out.”
Dorrie almost laughed. “Ask me
out?”
“Not like a date date,” Mallia
explained. “He’s going to say he wants to show you his appreciation for getting
him out of a situation that could have become disastrous, both personally and
professionally.”
Dorrie narrowed her eyes. “Are you
girls—”
“And you can’t tell us you aren’t
interested.” Tonga casually checked her fingernails, as if thinking of getting a
manicure. She wasn’t, and Dorrie didn’t need anyone to tell her differently.
“Okay. Say I’m…willing…to go on
this not-a-date date.”
Mallia grinned. “He’s cute.”
“He’s independently wealthy,” Tonga
added.
“And, more importantly, he’s had
his heart broken way too many times in the past because women see he’s a
twofer, and they try to take advantage of him,” Mallia included.
“A twofer?”
“Rich and cute.” Tonga waved
a hand. “Whereas you aren’t interested at all in that sort of stuff, which is
going to surprise him at first. Then he’ll come to understand you’re the best
thing that’s ever happened to him.”
It took Dorrie a moment to realize
what they were telling her. “Girls—” She started to say more when the console
went off. She pressed the earpiece. “Yes?”
“Mrs. Costas is here for her weekly
reading,” Marcie announced.
“Send her in.”
She watched as the girls shifted
back into their full fish forms and dove under the water before the woman
appeared. Their conversation may have been interrupted, but the topic wasn’t
over. Not by a long shot.
Still…
For the rest of the day, Dorrie
couldn’t keep herself from thinking about the man with the soulful eyes. She
looked forward to his next visit more than she was willing to admit, although
the girls knew the truth.
The truth and her future.
She smiled.
Monday, March 27, 2023
HERE BE NEWS for Monday March 27, 2023
Monday March 27, 2023
Welcome to HERE BE NEWS, where each monday we bring you all the latest from the fantasy romance authors at Here Be Magic:
1000+ Free Romances
On Amazon, Apple, B&N, Google and Kobo
JUST ONE DAY ~ March 31st ~ ONLY
NOTHING to sign up for!
All subgenres, all heat levels!
Monday, March 20, 2023
HERE BE NEWS for Monday March 20, 2023
Monday March 20, 2023
Welcome to HERE BE NEWS, where each monday we bring you all the latest from the fantasy romance authors at Here Be Magic:
OUR BATTLE LORD'S RANSOM
When a
caravan of gypsies arrives at Alta Novis, looking to make a deal, these new
visitors raise suspicions. It isn’t until the battle lord sees what they have
for sell that his concerns and reservations are raised even more—a cannon,
guns, and other weapons that haven’t been seen in hundreds of years, and only
heard about in stories these days.
The group isn’t happy when Yulen denies their requests, confiscates their weapons, and sends them on their way, but not before loading their wagons with supplies in a show of good will. But it isn’t enough for the gypsy leader.
When one of their own goes missing, Yulen and Atty will stop at nothing to get the battle prince back, but at what cost? Do their swords and arrows stand a chance against guns?
A number of obstacles stand in their way as they go to retrieve their son, but the connection between a Mutah mother and her child will conquer all.
Warning! Contains figgy pastries, a human trade, mutant bears, screamer arrows, raging hormones, coffee, shaved chocolate, weather colder than a well digger's butt, a parent's worst nightmare, and a son's ultimate revenge.
In honor of St. Patrick's Day, I'm posting two of my Celtic Legends books. It's not really a series, since the books don't have anything to do with each other. They're each set in Ireland at some point during the mid-to-late1800s (for no other reason than that my grandparents were born in Ireland in the late 1800s) and they each (being as they're Fantasy Romances) feature fantasy creatures found in Celtic legends, faeries, demi-gods, selkies, bird shifters. Only two of the four have been written yet, but you can see all the covers on the series page: https://www.pgforte.com/celtic-legends
IRON
https://books2read.com/u/31lMOW
Nineteenth century Ireland. Blacksmith Gavin O'Malley is a bitter man, with a heart as hard as the iron he forges. He wants his life back--the one that was stolen from him the day his wife died in childbirth, taking their firstborn son with her.
When Aislinn Deirbhile, an immortal, shape-shifting fae, arrives on his doorstep, he knows he's in luck. For Aislinn can give Gavin everything he's been missing: A devoted-seeming wife in the image of his beloved Mairead, and children who are sure to outlive their father. Now, all he has to do is find a way to keep her--without losing his immortal soul in the process.
But Aislinn has an agenda of her own. On the run from a vengeful fae lord who's vowed to either make her his or end her existence, she knows the iron that allows Gavin to take her captive will also keep her pursuers at bay. In order to put herself permanently beyond her enemy's reach, however, Aislinn will need something more. She'll need to win Gavin's heart and convince him to willingly part with a piece of the very soul he's trying to save.
OAK
https://books2read.com/u/bMRraG
Previously published as The Oak King.
Twice each year, Aine Murphy ventures into the woods to hold ceremonies to honor the Oak King and the Holly King, never dreaming these Lords of the Forest could be anything more than myth. When the legends spring to life in front of her, how can she help but fall for the sexy demi-gods she's loved all her life?
From midwinter to midsummer, Fionn O'Dair rules the Greenworld as the Oak King--a role he feels is beyond his abilities, and one that dooms him to a loveless future, forever craving the one man he can never allow himself to have. How can he resist what Aine offers--the sweet devotion that soothes his aching soul, and the slim chance to live a "normal" life as her husband, if only for half a year?
Holly King Kieran Mac Cuilenn never desired a human lover--until now. Seeing Fionn and Aine together fills him with longing for the love he threw away and awakens feelings he thought he'd buried with the last Oak King. Is there enough magic in the solstice to correct the mistakes he made years ago? Or is he doomed to be forever left out in the cold?
Excerpt from Iron:
“Would you like to see it?” she asked, sitting up in bed with her legs crossed beneath her, wanting suddenly to give something back to him, to make him smile again.
The blankets slid to her waist and Gavin quickly averted his eyes. “Eh? See what?”
“The Summerland. You need only lie back and close your eyes and I will sing ye there.”
“Sing me there?” Curious eyes swung back up to her face. “Ye can do that?”
Aislinn shrugged. “Of course. It is just your mind I’d be transporting. Your body would remain here, in peaceful slumber.”
“Aye, no doubt,” Gavin muttered, his gaze turning suspicious. “But for how long will I slumber? That’s the question, is it not?”
“A night,” she answered. “No more than that. I promise ye, you’ll not travel outside of time tonight. When ye wake up tomorrow morning, safe in your own bed, neither you nor the world will be more than a single day older. Will ye not trust me?”
“Might I not come to harm there? For I’ve heard stories.”
“Not tonight,” she said, leaning closer to smile temptingly at him. “If I give you my word, O’Malley, that I’ll not allow you to suffer any harm tonight, will that not suffice?”
“And have ye the power to make such promises, I wonder?” he asked as he studied her expression but finally he nodded and closed his eyes. “Go on then, Fae. Do your worst.”
Aislinn took a moment to gather her power, humming quietly until the air shimmered and rippled around her and time itself began to shift and there she stopped it, mindful of her promise not to take him outside time tonight. But someday I might, she thought, and smiled at the sleeping form before her, someday, indeed, I might.
And then, still smiling, she began to sing...
*
Gavin sighed as Aislinn’s voice settled over him as welcome as a soft, warm blanket on a cold night; and he’d have gladly snuggled into it, if his body did not seem too heavy to move. His mind, on the other hand, felt light as air, rising higher and higher until, at last, it broke free of the bonds that had kept it tethered within him. And then, like a caged bird suddenly set free, it took off, winging its way westward over a bleak, black sea toward a flicker of light on the horizon.
The light grew as he approached until he realized it was not a light at all, but rather the reflection cast by the rising sun upon the tall, white cliffs of an island.
Gulls swept past him, crying out a greeting; and then he was soaring above the island itself. Gentle, rolling hills stretched below him as he flew and the low, throbbing tones of Uilleann pipes rose up from among them, as though calling him home.
Dipping closer to the ground, he spied horses racing each other for the sheer joy of it across vast, verdant pastures. The sweet, mingled perfumes of a thousand flowers filled the air and a light mist kissed his skin as he landed in a sunny glen.
Deer, browsing amid the trees, paused in their foraging, their tails flicking as they scented him, but they showed no fear. He was aware, too, of a thronging crowd of people that seemed to exist just beyond the edges of his sight and who studied him just as curiously as the deer did. But he paid them no mind for there was a sound that tugged at his consciousness, bidding him follow it.
Aislinn...
He found her, at last, seated atop the bent branch of a willow tree that had extended itself over a clear and sparkling stream, paddling her feet in the crystalline water and singing sweetly.
She broke off as he approached and smiled in greeting. Gavin paused on the sandy bank and stared at her. Though the water appeared cool and refreshing and he was suddenly aware of a great thirst, he was loath to partake.
Laughing, Aislinn jumped down from the branch to stand before him. “’Tis quite all right, you know. The water will do naught tonight but quench your thirst. Although, on another occasion it might, indeed, do more. But did ye not believe me when I promised to protect thee here? What is it that’s made ye so suspicious, O’Malley? What have the fae ever done to thee?”
“I doona know,” he answered with a shrug, trying not to notice the sweet smell of sunlight on her skin and in her hair. She was dressed in a simple, diaphanous gown of shimmering white without so much as a single ornament, but even with her feet bare and her hair undone she looked more elegant, somehow, than any woman he had ever seen.
No wonder her fool of a sister was so worried, he thought, for sure and she has the look of one who should be queen.
“But how is it you’re here?” he asked. “For I thought you were banned from the place.”
“Aye,” she answered, casting a sad glance at the landscape that surrounded them. “From the Summerland itself, I am still in exile. But no one can remove me from my memories of it. This is but a shadow of the place. I could have sent ye there alone, had I wished to. But without accompanying ye, I could not have guaranteed your safety. Nor could I have transported ye into the past without breaking my promise not to take ye out of time. But I thought this would do to show ye what it’s like and why I’m so loath to give it up. Do you not find it beautiful?”
He nodded. “I do. But what of the other place? Will you be showing me that as well, that I might compare the two?”
“Nay,” she replied with a shake of her head. “Perhaps another time. I’d not wish to trouble your sleep with such a thing. You’d not thank me for it if I did. Now, come,” she said, smiling once more as she took hold of his arm. “Let me show you something of my home.”
Friday, March 17, 2023
Bring It Back(list) ~ Two Ireland-set Books by PG Forte
In honor of St. Patrick's Day, I'm posting two of my Celtic Legends books. It's not really a series, since the books don't have anything to do with each other. They're each set in Ireland at some point during the mid-to-late1800s (for no other reason than that my grandparents were born in Ireland in the late 1800s) and they each (being as they're Fantasy Romances) feature fantasy creatures found in Celtic legends, faeries, demi-gods, selkies, bird shifters. Only two of the four have been written yet, but you can see all the covers on the series page: https://www.pgforte.com/celtic-legends
IRON
https://books2read.com/u/31lMOW
Nineteenth century Ireland. Blacksmith Gavin O'Malley is a bitter man, with a heart as hard as the iron he forges. He wants his life back--the one that was stolen from him the day his wife died in childbirth, taking their firstborn son with her.
When Aislinn Deirbhile, an immortal, shape-shifting fae, arrives on his doorstep, he knows he's in luck. For Aislinn can give Gavin everything he's been missing: A devoted-seeming wife in the image of his beloved Mairead, and children who are sure to outlive their father. Now, all he has to do is find a way to keep her--without losing his immortal soul in the process.
But Aislinn has an agenda of her own. On the run from a vengeful fae lord who's vowed to either make her his or end her existence, she knows the iron that allows Gavin to take her captive will also keep her pursuers at bay. In order to put herself permanently beyond her enemy's reach, however, Aislinn will need something more. She'll need to win Gavin's heart and convince him to willingly part with a piece of the very soul he's trying to save.
OAK
https://books2read.com/u/bMRraG
Previously published as The Oak King.
Twice each year, Aine Murphy ventures into the woods to hold ceremonies to honor the Oak King and the Holly King, never dreaming these Lords of the Forest could be anything more than myth. When the legends spring to life in front of her, how can she help but fall for the sexy demi-gods she's loved all her life?
From midwinter to midsummer, Fionn O'Dair rules the Greenworld as the Oak King--a role he feels is beyond his abilities, and one that dooms him to a loveless future, forever craving the one man he can never allow himself to have. How can he resist what Aine offers--the sweet devotion that soothes his aching soul, and the slim chance to live a "normal" life as her husband, if only for half a year?
Holly King Kieran Mac Cuilenn never desired a human lover--until now. Seeing Fionn and Aine together fills him with longing for the love he threw away and awakens feelings he thought he'd buried with the last Oak King. Is there enough magic in the solstice to correct the mistakes he made years ago? Or is he doomed to be forever left out in the cold?
Excerpt from Iron:
“Would you like to see it?” she asked, sitting up in bed with her legs crossed beneath her, wanting suddenly to give something back to him, to make him smile again.
The blankets slid to her waist and Gavin quickly averted his eyes. “Eh? See what?”
“The Summerland. You need only lie back and close your eyes and I will sing ye there.”
“Sing me there?” Curious eyes swung back up to her face. “Ye can do that?”
Aislinn shrugged. “Of course. It is just your mind I’d be transporting. Your body would remain here, in peaceful slumber.”
“Aye, no doubt,” Gavin muttered, his gaze turning suspicious. “But for how long will I slumber? That’s the question, is it not?”
“A night,” she answered. “No more than that. I promise ye, you’ll not travel outside of time tonight. When ye wake up tomorrow morning, safe in your own bed, neither you nor the world will be more than a single day older. Will ye not trust me?”
“Might I not come to harm there? For I’ve heard stories.”
“Not tonight,” she said, leaning closer to smile temptingly at him. “If I give you my word, O’Malley, that I’ll not allow you to suffer any harm tonight, will that not suffice?”
“And have ye the power to make such promises, I wonder?” he asked as he studied her expression but finally he nodded and closed his eyes. “Go on then, Fae. Do your worst.”
Aislinn took a moment to gather her power, humming quietly until the air shimmered and rippled around her and time itself began to shift and there she stopped it, mindful of her promise not to take him outside time tonight. But someday I might, she thought, and smiled at the sleeping form before her, someday, indeed, I might.
And then, still smiling, she began to sing...
*
Gavin sighed as Aislinn’s voice settled over him as welcome as a soft, warm blanket on a cold night; and he’d have gladly snuggled into it, if his body did not seem too heavy to move. His mind, on the other hand, felt light as air, rising higher and higher until, at last, it broke free of the bonds that had kept it tethered within him. And then, like a caged bird suddenly set free, it took off, winging its way westward over a bleak, black sea toward a flicker of light on the horizon.
The light grew as he approached until he realized it was not a light at all, but rather the reflection cast by the rising sun upon the tall, white cliffs of an island.
Gulls swept past him, crying out a greeting; and then he was soaring above the island itself. Gentle, rolling hills stretched below him as he flew and the low, throbbing tones of Uilleann pipes rose up from among them, as though calling him home.
Dipping closer to the ground, he spied horses racing each other for the sheer joy of it across vast, verdant pastures. The sweet, mingled perfumes of a thousand flowers filled the air and a light mist kissed his skin as he landed in a sunny glen.
Deer, browsing amid the trees, paused in their foraging, their tails flicking as they scented him, but they showed no fear. He was aware, too, of a thronging crowd of people that seemed to exist just beyond the edges of his sight and who studied him just as curiously as the deer did. But he paid them no mind for there was a sound that tugged at his consciousness, bidding him follow it.
Aislinn...
He found her, at last, seated atop the bent branch of a willow tree that had extended itself over a clear and sparkling stream, paddling her feet in the crystalline water and singing sweetly.
She broke off as he approached and smiled in greeting. Gavin paused on the sandy bank and stared at her. Though the water appeared cool and refreshing and he was suddenly aware of a great thirst, he was loath to partake.
Laughing, Aislinn jumped down from the branch to stand before him. “’Tis quite all right, you know. The water will do naught tonight but quench your thirst. Although, on another occasion it might, indeed, do more. But did ye not believe me when I promised to protect thee here? What is it that’s made ye so suspicious, O’Malley? What have the fae ever done to thee?”
“I doona know,” he answered with a shrug, trying not to notice the sweet smell of sunlight on her skin and in her hair. She was dressed in a simple, diaphanous gown of shimmering white without so much as a single ornament, but even with her feet bare and her hair undone she looked more elegant, somehow, than any woman he had ever seen.
No wonder her fool of a sister was so worried, he thought, for sure and she has the look of one who should be queen.
“But how is it you’re here?” he asked. “For I thought you were banned from the place.”
“Aye,” she answered, casting a sad glance at the landscape that surrounded them. “From the Summerland itself, I am still in exile. But no one can remove me from my memories of it. This is but a shadow of the place. I could have sent ye there alone, had I wished to. But without accompanying ye, I could not have guaranteed your safety. Nor could I have transported ye into the past without breaking my promise not to take ye out of time. But I thought this would do to show ye what it’s like and why I’m so loath to give it up. Do you not find it beautiful?”
He nodded. “I do. But what of the other place? Will you be showing me that as well, that I might compare the two?”
“Nay,” she replied with a shake of her head. “Perhaps another time. I’d not wish to trouble your sleep with such a thing. You’d not thank me for it if I did. Now, come,” she said, smiling once more as she took hold of his arm. “Let me show you something of my home.”
Writing New Fairy Tales
Many of the stories that we may be familiar with from Disney are actually retellings of older tales. They've continued to be popular with modern readers, which is obvious by the number of fairytale retellings that are available.
One popular
fairytale, Beauty and the Beast can also be found across cultures. You can
see parallels between that story and the myth of Persephone and Hades.
My Once Upon
A Princess series features princesses who fall in love with shifter
heroes.. In Heart of Stone the princess is in her 30's and has suffered
personal losses. She's more skeptical and less innocent, but she's open to love
when she meets the "beast." In Beauty & the Faun a
Cinderella-inspired heroine isn't a princess when she starts out (the princess
part comes later on). The heroine in Land of Dreams is a mysterious
princess who has secrets of her own.
With fairytale
retellings we can take well-known stories and add our own twists. We can put them into
the modern day, a magical fantasy world or a futuristic setting. There are countless stories available to inspire us to take familiar tales and give them
new interpretations.
I'm presenting
a "Fairy Tale Retellings" workshop beginning on March 20th
at SavvyAuthors.com. If you'd like to learn more about writing your own
retellings, click the link for more information.
Wednesday, March 15, 2023
WIP-It Wednesday
PG Forte: Here's an excerpt from The White Elephant Gift Exchange, a new small town, second chance story I'm writing for inclusion in the upcoming Love is in the Air anthology (currently available for preorder).
Seven years ago…
This is not a pretty sweater. I tried my best, but perhaps a sweater was not the best, or smartest, first project for a beginning knitter to attempt. I always feel like I can do anything I set my mind to, and that confidence usually serves me well. But this time, not so much. Even I have to admit that’s the case. “This sucks.”
Guido groans. “It doesn’t. It’s fine,” my best friend suggests loyally. “It’s got two sleeves, four holes and it’s big enough to cover everything you meant for it to cover, I call that good You also spent four monthsmaking it—which is about three and a half months more effort than he deserves if you ask me. Now can we please stop talking about it? I’m bored already.”
“No, I won’t stop.” I turn and glare at him. He’s flopped on my bed with a stack of fashion magazines. “This is important, G. I don’t think the sleeves are the same length. I just want…” I let my voice away. I want so much, too much to explain. I want things that I don’t necessarily want to share with Guido who doesn’t much like Jackson in the first place; doesn’t think he’s good enough for me, in the second; and who’ll probably blurt it all out the first time he comes face to face with my boyfriend in an effort to convince Jack to up his game and start doing better by me.
But if I could have finished the thought, it would have sounded something like, “I want Jackson to look at this sweater and know how much I thought about him while he was gone. I want him to take this sweater with him when he goes back to college and wear it every day…or at least until the weather breaks. I want him to be reminded of me each time he puts it on. And I want that connection—that sense of his being literally, physically, virtually, and in every-other-which-way wrapped in my love—to help us both feel closer to each other. And maybe a little less lonely.”
No, I really can’t say any of that, can I? Guido would laugh, and then he’d look hurt, and then he’d say something like, whaddaya mean lonely? I’m right here, aren’t I? But he isn’t. Not really. He has his own boyfriend trouble—or whatever the hell Ben is to him—to deal with.
“Okay, okay,” Guido says, so suddenly that I feel my eyes narrow suspiciously. “I got it. I know what we’ll do.”
“What?” Swear to God, if he starts cracking jokes, I’m gonna find a new and painful alternative use for my knitting needles.
“We’ll Christmas it up.”
“We’ll what?”
“We’ll make a Christmas sweater out of it—you’ve heard of them, right?”
“Of course, I’ve heard of them!” Enough to know that the term was usually prefaced with another word. “Are you calling my sweater ugly?”
“No, you did that. What I’m saying is that if we cover it with enough bling and glittery stuff it will be fabulous. And if you add some trim to the cuff of the shorter sleeve…”
“I can at least make them look even. You’re a genius!”
“I know. Don’t sound so surprised.”
Three hours and one trip to the fabric store later, I stand back to admire my handiwork. “Well? What do you think?”
Guido glances up from his phone. “Omigod,” he says, eyes widening, mouth dropping open. “That’s… Wow. That looks fantastic. Even better than I imagined it.”
“Really?” I ask hopefully, glancing at the color block patches arranged to cover up the worst of my dropped stitches, and that looked like an abstract rendering—colorful packages surrounding a Christmas tree; at the alternating rows of rope, and ribbon, and rickrack that circled each sleeve and, thanks to a little creativity, and a few well-placed stitches, left them hanging evenly; at the holly leaf and berry appliques that bordered the neck, and gave the garment some needed structure, so that it didn’t gape open quite so much.
“Yes, really. There’s just one problem.”
“What problem?”
“It’s too professional looking. Jackson’s never going to believe you made this yourself.”
“So, not ugly?”
“Not ugly at all. You could sell these. You should sell these.”
“Are you kidding? It took me months just to make this one! What kind of business model is that?”
“Ah, the prototype always takes longer,” Guido insists, although why he thinks he knows something like that is a mystery. “I’m serious. Forget following Jackson to Cornell next August. Transfer to someplace local and stay in Atlas Beach. We’ll go into business together.”
Sometimes we don't get it right the first time around. That's why life gives us second chances.
This limited edition romance collection features 20+ stories of hope, happy ever afters, and the second chances it took to get there.
In this collection you will find stories of second chances at love and life as our heroes and heroines embark on life changing journeys, whether changing careers or moving half way across the globe.
About the collection:
All NET Author proceeds are being pledged to Breast Cancer Research Foundation, the highest rated breast cancer organization in the United States and largest private funder of breast cancer research worldwide.
Tuesday, March 14, 2023
New! OUR BATTLE LORD'S RANSOM, The Battle Lord Saga Book 10, a Sci-Fi/Futuristic/Post-Apocalyptic Romance by Linda Mooney
OUR BATTLE LORD'S RANSOM
When a
caravan of gypsies arrives at Alta Novis, looking to make a deal, these new
visitors raise suspicions. It isn’t until the battle lord sees what they have
for sell that his concerns and reservations are raised even more—a cannon,
guns, and other weapons that haven’t been seen in hundreds of years, and only
heard about in stories these days.
The group isn’t happy when Yulen denies their requests, confiscates their weapons, and sends them on their way, but not before loading their wagons with supplies in a show of good will. But it isn’t enough for the gypsy leader.
When one of their own goes missing, Yulen and Atty will stop at nothing to get the battle prince back, but at what cost? Do their swords and arrows stand a chance against guns?
A number of obstacles stand in their way as they go to retrieve their son, but the connection between a Mutah mother and her child will conquer all.
Warning! Contains figgy pastries, a human trade, mutant bears, screamer arrows, raging hormones, coffee, shaved chocolate, weather colder than a well digger's butt, a parent's worst nightmare, and a son's ultimate revenge.
Monday, March 13, 2023
HERE BE NEWS for Monday March 13, 2023
Monday March 13, 2023
Welcome to HERE BE NEWS, where each monday we bring you all the latest from the fantasy romance authors at Here Be Magic:
A FAERIE'S TALE
Contemporary Fantasy Romance
by Linda Mooney
Word Count: 52.7K
$3.99 e / $9.99 p /
$14.95 a
"Mommy, tell me a story. A fairy story."
Jill has a very real fairy story to tell her daughter. Actually she has two: the one she recites at bedtime and the one that is the truth.
Once upon a time there was a faerie whose life was contained in the forest lands of northern Maine. But when unscrupulous loggers began to cut down the trees which were the lifeblood of her people, she was ordered to take human form and find a way to stop them by using human means.
Caine York worked for the US Forestry Service. The last thing he needed was a tree rights activist like Jill Lattimer tagging along. Yet as the days went by he found himself unable to resist the woman's uninhibited spirit.
Unfortunately, Jill was also finding herself falling in love with the forest ranger. The human forest ranger. A man her people would never allow her to be with once they found out.
She would soon find herself fighting to stay with the man who had captured her
heart, just as Caine would struggle to have the woman he cannot live without. Together they
will fight to keep their beloved woods safe from deforestation, knowing that sooner
or later one of them would have to lose everything they held dear.
Warning: Contains
horrendous weather, big bad humans, lightning from a stick, sex with wings,
explosions, drone surveillance, barefoot nymphs, gunfire, a very
recalcitrant child, and one man trying to come to grips with the fact that the
woman he loves belongs in a mythic realm where he isn't allowed.