Hello, gorgeous! By now I'm sure you've been bombarded with a lot of marketing for Valentine's Day. I have been, I think the best subject line in an email I received was 'Happy Spouse, Happy House'. I don't know about you, but it doesn't take a lot to make me happy these days. Food. Sleep. Quiet. Ice Cream. A kissy book. All of the above. Our Feb 14th plan is for the oldest to babysit the youngest so hubs and I can grab a pizza and sit at the beach and scoff it. What can I say? We're on a fixed budget, pizza is cheap, and the view is second to none. Since Wrecked by Love is a Valentine's Day themed book, I thought you might like a preview. Maddox and Nicki's story is still in final edits and is currently being read by Buy Me A Coffee supporters who have generously agreed to typo/error spot and provide early feedback for me. Thank you again ladies! Wrecked by Love will also release earlier in paperback form, and here on my website, so if you want a copy before the 29th, check back for details. Wishing you a love filled Valentine's, no matter your relationship status. Snippet from Wrecked by LoveNicki At the abrupt end of the conversation, I resist the temptation to salute him. I do mutter, “Yes, Sir,” under my breath when he’s far enough away to risk it though. Since it’s impossible to eat and pack in the stupid timeframe he’s given me, I take my coffee and abandon the meager breakfast he’s made. If he’s going to be such a grouch and refuse to talk to me the least he can do is feed me properly. Pancakes would have been nice. Rather than ponder how insane this weekend is turning out to be, I wander slowly across the living area and pause at the bottom of the staircase to take another sip of coffee. It’s way too strong for my liking, he hasn’t added any creamer or sugar, and I’m pretty sure it’s something he’s done intentionally. With Maddox, it’s his way or go away. Even his bathroom is a stellar reflection of the man who uses it. It may be well-designed, and functional and it does what it’s supposed to do, but it's also lacking any warmth and the slightest misstep could prove to be fatal. For half of the time I was standing in his shower, I was terrified to touch anything in case it exploded or electrocuted me. Now he expects me to pretend to be his wife of all things? Heaven forbid a woman ever find herself married to a man like Maddox Reid for real. He’d probably demand all the wedding guests be patted down and would have a gun in a holster under his tuxedo just in case. A small sigh of appreciation escapes my mouth. He would look great in a tux. And this wouldn’t be a terrible place to live. Even if there is no cell coverage. It’s probably more evidence of how messed up I’ve gotten, but after a week of phone calls, threats, and icky mail, I’m beginning to appreciate the isolation and understand why he has weapons in unexpected places. I reach the top step a little out of breath, and still slightly lightheaded from lack of sleep, no food, and chemical exposure. I have managed to drink some of my awful coffee, so even though I’m starving, at least I’m waking up a little. Putting the mug down on the coffee table, I hungrily rip open one of the Whoopie Pies I brought with me. In between mouthfuls of sticky sweet fluffy marshmallow chocolate goodness, I look around the space I spent last night in. I must be sleep-deprived but I can picture myself sitting here beside the fire curled up with a glass of wine and binge-watching my favorite old reality TV show Tabitha’s Salon Takeover. On a clear day, you’d have a great view of the Bay, and I’m sure I remember Levi telling me Maddox has a hot tub on his deck. This side of Turtle Bay might be isolated, but there is a certain feeling of security being here away from prying eyes. Kind of romantic. If you were with someone who was even the slightest bit of interest to you. I finish the last bite and lick the remainder off my fingers before I start to pack up the few items I took out of my bag last night. As I fold up a pair of pajamas I never put on, I can hear him moving around on the ground floor. “One minute,” he yells. I growl quietly under my breath. “Keep your hair on, I’ll be right down.” “Don’t put your jacket on. I have one you can borrow.” “Oh goodie,” I mutter. Ignoring his instructions to hurry, I take my sweet time and manage to eat the other Whoopie Pie. If Maddox is going to force me to stay confined in a room all weekend, it’s only fair that he talks to me. Too bad, he’s so closed off, he won’t voluntarily tell me how he’s feeling. If I want to get information, I’d have to put the screws on him and that would inevitably end in him putting them on me. With a stifled yawn, I zip up my bag, toss it on the chair, and wander over to the window. For a brief moment, I thought he was taking me back to the Bay. Odd to think the idea of returning to my home fills my stomach with dread. I’ve always considered Blueskin Bay a safe place to live. Sure, we have our share of crime, but I’ve always felt somewhat protected from most of it. My salon is on the same street as the police station, I have two of the Reid boys on speed dial at home, and Grandma gave me a can of mace when I turned eighteen. Never in a million years would I have dreamed I’d be afraid to go home. My eyes shift to the telescope, and I find myself gliding toward it as if pulled by an unseen string. The Bay is my home, but right now it’s the last place I want to be. Downstairs a door slams and my heart speeds. He really expects me to do this. If I’d not been so traumatized, and so distracted by the mayhem of the past twenty-four hours, I would have protested and refused. But where else am I going to go? Unlike last year or the year before, I won’t be hanging around the single Reid boys at The Outrigger. They’ve all settled down, and thanks to Maddox’s warped plan, I have a sort of date for Valentine’s Day. If I wasn’t scared out of my mind, it might be funnier. Categories
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11/20/2023 0 Comments The Yucky Problem in Our BackyardLook at the cute kitten for a minute before I tell you this story, okay?
You may need to go back to looking at it. And no, we don’t have a kitten problem. Quite the opposite. We have an icky, tricky, shudder inducing ratty problem. Let me explain why I think we have such an obvious problem. You see, we used to have a cat. My daughter named her Molly. And for a tiny cat she was fabulous at catching the blighters. Okay, so she left a few of them scattered around the lawn, usually half eaten or headless for us to find. And sure, she caught the occasional bird, but boy oh boy did that cat know how to hunt vermin! Much to my daughter’s disappointment Molly spent most of her time outside refining her hunting skills. Or attacking the dog. It was almost as if she had an internal program that kept whispering in her furry little ears. Let me out in the wild! Let me earn my keep! Sadly, Molly disappeared one day and when she returned a week later, it was clear she was very, very sick. Our beautiful rescue pup, Delta is with our family no more either. That was one of the most difficult periods our family as had to face. It was difficult for all of us to cope with, but trying to explain to my Autistic son why Delta couldn’t come back while he sobbed uncontrollably just about ripped my heart out. Molly was…aloof. Delta was…a part of our family. She left a gaping hole, I’m not sure we’ll be able to fill. Some dogs are just special. Oh wow. She died well over two years ago and writing that just made me cry. Five minutes later…. Okay, where was I? Right. A pet free home for almost three years now. And the current problem. Ten days ago, my daughter saw a rat. Which I have a slight phobia about, in the garden. IT WAS CLIMBING A TREE! Despite hubs telling her not to tell me right before bedtime, she did. Breathe, I told myself. It’s not in the house. It’s okay. It’ll be okay. It was NOT okay. She saw it again. This time it brought TWO tree climbing friends! After frantic Googling I thought I had the solution. Cut down the tree. That’ll fix them. Hubs cut down the tree and sprayed the area with enough diluted eucalyptus oil to clear out the entire neighborhood’s nasal passages. One night went past. None. Second night. None. Third night? THEY WERE CLIMBING THE OTHER TREE! By now, I had to admit defeat. And admit we probably have a family, extended, in-laws, their kids, and so on, and so on, to deal with. It's become obvious that if we don’t get rid of them, they will, (if they aren’t already) make their way into the house come winter. After Molly, I never thought I’d actually want to see dead things lying on the grass. I didn’t know how good that was! I know the ratty things are around us, is it too much to ask that I don’t have to see them? I spoke to a nice pesty man called Craig yesterday and am waiting for him to get back to me with a time he can come around. The quote he gave me was between $375-$475. I nearly dropped my phone. I’m now 100% on team ‘let’s get a cat!’ even if it just acts as a deterrent. What do you think? Do you have an expert hunter in your household? I’d love to hear your experiences before we make a final decision. |
Sariah DenzinRomantic Suspense with Heart, Hope and Heroes ArchivesCategories |