Blautsaugers of Amber Heights series, book #2. Vampire in the Scrying Glass set to release Halloween 2014.
Wild Rose Press
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Vampire in the Scrying Glass
As we approach Halloween, I’m excited to have R.E. Mullins on my blog to tell us about her Blautsaugers of Amber Heights series. Let’s start with the interrogation… I mean questions.
What are you working on? The 2nd book in the Blautsaugers of Amber Heights will be released on Halloween 10/31/14. It’s called Vampire in the Scrying Glass and is Morgan and Rafe’s story. I’m currently about half way done with the 3rd book in the series: Metta and Luke’s story. Working title is A Vampire to be Reckoned With
How does your work differ from others of its genre? My vampires are very human-like. Their anatomy and physiology is almost identical to humans but with a couple of extra chromosomes. Therefore they can do anything a human can do with a little extra oomph. They are able to go out into the sun (using sunscreen and sunglasses). They can stay up all day just as humans can stay up all night. They have a strong moral code and laws yet they are just as fallible as any human. Since they live longer, they mature extra slowly and aren’t even considered adults until they’ve reached 100 years of age.
Why do you write what you do? I want to write the things I enjoy reading. However, I must admit this series was inspired by my job in phlebotomy. Dealing with blood all day…it only made sense to write about a phlebotomist who gets turned into a vampire. I started It’s a Wonderful Undead Life over a decade ago but didn’t take it seriously. After I got my act together, it was published Christmastime 2012.
How does your writing process work? I seem to write better in the morning with a big carafe of coffee by my side. When I hit a snag, I take my dog for a walk. The fresh air clears my head and often whatever problem I’m having resolves itself.
What keeps you motivated while writing? The voices in my head never shut up.
How much real life goes into your fiction writing? Quite a bit, actually. Amber Heights, my city in the series, is made up though it’s set in my old stomping grounds of southwest Missouri. You might consider it a mishmash of several places I’ve lived. Though heavily edited (names changed to protect the innocent) I’ve also alluded to several events from my life. The disastrous blind date where Morgan gets her hand bitten in A Vampire In The Scrying Glass is one example.
Your favorite food? Pasta, baby. One of my favorite dishes is a variation of pasta puttanesca. The literal translation is ‘whore’s pasta’, which, I believe, comes from the idea you, can throw any combination of meat you want into the dish. I generally use pepperoni, sausage, ham, bacon, black olives, edamame, fresh garlic, pasta (I like rigatoni over spaghetti for this), and a couple of cans of Italian seasoned diced tomatoes. Cook the meats, boil the pasta, and then toss everything except the bacon together. Heat through. Crumble bacon on top.
Which of your work has been published so far? Would you like to share a synopsis of your work? What are your forthcoming writings?
I was fortunate enough to have the very first novel I ever wrote published: It’s A Wonderful Undead Life. I’ve turned it into a series. The second book: Vampire In The Scrying Glass will be released Halloween 2014. The third book under the working title: A Vampire To Be Reckoned With is about halfway finished.
Rafe Blautsauger, vampire and enforcer, must put his feelings for the mortal Morgan Maguire aside. The Nosferatu council who employs Rafe strictly forbids their love. But he can't stay away from the beautiful woman who causes his blood to beat with new life. Yet, she hides a secret, one he must expose in order to protect her.
Morgan keeps her unique gift of magic under wraps due to a spell gone horribly wrong when she was young. She is haunted by a nightmare where two malevolent glowing red eyes stalk her. Can she trust the arrogant but oh-so-handsome Rafe with her secret as well as her heart? Can he help her regain her power in time to save the world of the living and the undead?
Morgan quickly lunged forward, and pressed the stake firmly over his heart. “You are despicable.”
“Necessary. Especially for someone as puny as you.” With ease Rafe flipped the piece of sharpened wood out of her fingers, twirled it around a couple of times, and then handed it back with a small flourish.
This time reprisal came more quickly as a spell came to her. She hoped that one day it would come automatically. “Let this man feel my slap. Not to harm, just a tap. Let him feel a touch of fear, to know he cannot domineer.”
For a second the words hung in the air and then Rafe’s eyes widened as his head jerked to the side. The faint lines of a palm print reddened his left cheek.
“You little devil,” he rubbed the side of his face before pushing her on the shoulder with the flat of his hand. He shoved hard enough to force her back a step. “If you’re going to slap at me, by god, you better have the balls to come at me personally.”
“Oh, yeah?” Morgan thrust both hands against his chest and shoved with all her might. It shook her when he didn’t budge an inch, but she managed to keep up her air of bravado. “What’s the matter? Don’t you like the fact I’m not weak and powerless?” Tossing back her head, she challenged, “I don’t need magic to take you on, but it would be wise for you to remember it’s always there.”
He thwarted any chance of escape or the ability to get in the last word by twisting his hand into her hair.
He pulled hard enough, she gasped.
“So take me on,” he dared.
Born and raised in Joplin, Missouri R.E. Mullins has also resided in Tulsa, Oklahoma, Mt. Clemens, Michigan, Springfield, Missouri and Colorado Springs, Colorado. Though she has loved each area, the Ozarks hold a special place in her heart.
R.E. Mullins in social media
Twitter handle: #REMullins
Goodreads author page: https://www.goodreads.com/REMullins
Today, I’m delighted to have an amazing new Canadian author as a guest on my blog. J.C. McKenzie writes paranormal romance and has agreed to share her writing process and research technique with us.
First I’d like to thank Marlow Kelly for hosting me today on her blog. I’m going to talk about the dirty R-word.
For my short story paranormal romance, The Shucker’s Booktique, I faced a new challenge to my writing craft. Research!
All my other books take place in a city I know and love, Vancouver. I have lived there for many years and the extent of my research prior to this new project was quick Google searches to double check my facts, like intersections and ferry times.
This was not the case with Shucker’s. The short story takes place in a fictional town near Bar Harbor, Maine, on the East Coast of the states. Yes, there’s still an ocean, but not the one I’m familiar with.
Even for a short story of 27000 words, I needed to find out a lot of stuff, and in a way that wouldn’t kill my writing mojo. I turned to Google once more for the following information:
- Flora & Fauna
- Housing styles, etc
My hero is a water sprite that can only take a human form during thunderstorms. So I had to research the weather patterns to find what was realistic for the area. I found this wonderful website that compiled historical weather data for the area I was interested in: https://weatherspark.com/averages/29745/6/Bar-Harbor-Maine-United-States
All I had to do was change the “6” to the number corresponding with the month I wanted. I patted myself on the back when I discovered thunderstorms frequent the area and usually last two days and occur about every two weeks starting in June and ending around September. Perfect!
Weather – check!
Then I had to search for flora and fauna, to enrich my scenes and flesh-out my settings. I found this one a bit trickier, so I went after specific things, like “birds in Maine.” Not one specific site helped me, but I made sure the birds and flowers I “collected” were in the area for June-August.
Flora and Fauna – check!
The culture and housing styles information came easily from the tourist website for Bar Harbor.
Culture & Housing – check, check!
After completing my research checklist and patting myself on the back (again), I drummed my fingers on my desk and stared at the blank computer screen. Research became the Dirty R-word. The story that had been hounding me for days (and nights) started to slip away, sliding right out of my grasp. The overwhelming need to use all my new found knowledge threatened my creativity.
In the end, after a few failed attempts to start writing, I ignored my little “Facts Sheet.” All that research went into a folder—out of sight and out of mind.
I wrote my story the way my subconscious wanted it told.
For example, I wrote:
Rain pounded against the bedroom window and the <xxx> trees groaned in the gale force winds outside. She closed her eyes and inhaled the lingering smells of sea breeze air with <xxx fragrant night flower 1> and <xxx fragrant night flower 2>.
After I finished the manuscript, I went back, searched for all the “xxx”s and added in the details! My example above became:
Rain pounded against the bedroom window and the birch trees groaned in the gale force winds outside. She closed her eyes and inhaled the lingering smells of sea breeze air with evening primrose and night-blooming cereus.
Some people can’t write until they’ve fully imagined the area with all the specific details. Apparently, I’m the opposite! I needed to tell the story and add the majority of the details after.
What about you?
If you’re a writer, what do you do with your research? Are you a before, during or after kind of writer?
If you’re a reader, what do you think of all the little details? Do you notice them? Do you feel they enrich the story or bog it down?
The Shucker’s Booktique by J.C. McKenzie
LON RIDES THE WAVES, LIVES BY THE TIDES, AND NOTHING CAN HOLD HIM DOWN, BUT WILLA MAY BE THE ANCHOR HE NEEDS.
The Wild Rose Press
After her fiancé dumps her and her beloved Aunt Jenny goes missing, Willa Eklund travels to Lobster Cove with a broken heart to search for Jenny while running her bookstore. When a mysterious man visits the Shucker's Booktique on a stormy night drenched in rain and covered in mud, Willa's heart melts under his stormy gaze. She wants Lon and the answers he may have, but he also has a secret. Can Willa trust him?
Lon Devlin is a Tempest, a water sprite who can only take a human form during stormy nights. He rides the waves, lives by the tides, and nothing can hold him down, not even a beautiful woman. When he visits his mortal friend, he discovers she's missing and her intriguing niece has taken her place. He wants Willa, but he also wants answers. What happened to Jenny?
Thump! Thump! Thump!
No! She gasped. It couldn’t be. The banging on the front door of the booktique had to be a figment of her imagination. She couldn’t will Lon into existence. Why would he come back? Especially if he was involved. Unless…cold ice prickled up her spine…unless he needed to eliminate her to take care of loose ends.
No. Crazy thoughts, Willa. He could’ve taken care of her the night before. No, her heart hammered against her chest for a different reason. But it didn’t matter. The knocking on the door wouldn’t, couldn’t be him.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
Could it? She clutched her hot mug in both hands and turned toward the doorway leading to the bookstore. From the kitchen in the back room, she had a clear view through the store to the front door, but not who stood on the other side.
“Willa!” Lon growled. “Wake up and let me in!”
Willa gasped and almost dropped her cup. The tea sloshed around and some spilled over her hands. It burned, but she didn’t move. She couldn’t breathe. Somehow the air got trapped inside her throat. Why was he here? What did he want?
Oh God, let it be me!
About the Author:
Born and raised on the Haida Gwaii, off the West Coast of Canada, J.C. McKenzie grew up in a pristine wilderness that inspired her to dream. She writes Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance.
J.C. McKenzie’s Website
The Wild Rose Press
Stuck in a life of servitude to her penny-pinching brother, Emily Darling longs for a more exciting existence. When a packet with travel tickets, meant for one Ethel Darton, accidentally lands on her doormat, Emily sees a chance for escape. Having turned down the dreary suitors that have come her way, is it possible a new existence also offers a different kind of man?
Daniel Saunders has carved out a life for himself in Wyoming—a life missing one thing: a wife. Having scrimped and saved to bring his mail-order bride from New York, he is outraged to find in her stead a runaway fraud. Even worse, the impostor is the sister of his old enemy.
But people are not always as they seem, and sometimes the heart knows more than the head.
The mercantile was a marvel to her. A large store carrying about everything and anything someone could want out here. Barrels of apples, their perfume vying with the aroma of coffee. Rows of canned peaches and beans, brightly labeled. Bolts of fabrics and piles of overalls and blue jeans. Racks of handguns and rifles, cartons of ammunition. Rolls of chicken wire and shelves of implements, tools for farm and ranch and home. Jars of sweet candies and a stack of newspapers and books. Emily’s eyes were big with wonder and Daniel was rewarded to see it as she did, the color, the diversity, the spectacle, not just the practicality of things in a jam-packed shop with sawdust on the floor. And then he shook his head to remove the distractions, concentrate on the matter at hand.
“What can I do for you today, Dan? Not your usual day in town.”
His sideways glance caught Emily suppressing a smile.
“Dan?” she smirked.
He gulped a breath and ignored her. “Hey, Jason, how ya doin’? My cousin here is just out from New York, looking to make a new life. We wondered if there was any work going she might take up. And I do have a list, as usual.” He tried to put a cheerful, friendly note in his voice, something he was definitely not feeling.
The shopkeeper took the list and studied it, shaking his head. “No work as I know of. With summer coming, some things might open up. We always get folks moving in, mebbe starting up businesses, in summer. But nothing as yet. You might want to check back in a week or two. Or there’s the saloon. I heared Ben’s been looking for someone to clean up each morning, but whether you’d want your kin working there, well, that’s another matter.”
Emily stepped forward. “Where is it? The saloon?”
“No!” Damn woman. Daniel sucked in a breath. “You’re not working there,” he said more gently.
Jason’s gaze shot from one to the other. “’Course, I didn’t mean nothing by mentioning it. Mebbe shoulda kept my mouth shut.”
Daniel locked on Emily’s hard stare. Her anger was evident, but she stayed silent.
“Well. I’ll get this order together. Be about fifteen minutes. Can you wait?”
“Sure thing,” Daniel said and grabbed Emily by the wrist. He dragged her outside after him, almost tossing her against the hitching rail.
“If it’s the only job?” She stomped her foot. “I don’t belong to you, you can’t tell me—”
“I can. And I am. You made yourself my responsibility...” They were shouting, and he lowered his voice, his gaze darting around. “You made yourself my responsibility the day you took those tickets and came out to me.” He let this sink in, reining in his own truculence. “You’re gonna do what I say, and I’ll make the dang decisions. You got that?” He waited for a response. “I said, do you understand?”
Emily crossed her arms. “You said, ‘you got that,’ not ‘do you understand.’” Smugness was written across her face, her lips a
thin, tight line, her eyes round with the correction.
Daniel straightened. Then he laughed. And he laughed a little more. “Oh, heck.” He lifted his hat briefly, swept the hair out of his eyes, and set the hat back on his head. “How the hell did this happen to me?”
Bio: Andrea Downing likes to say that when she decided to do a Masters Degree, she made the mistake of turning left out of New York, where she was born, instead of right to the west, and ended up in the UK. She eventually married there, raising a beautiful daughter and staying for longer than she cares to admit. Teaching, editing a poetry magazine, writing travel articles, and a short stint in Nigeria filled those years until in 2008 she returned to NYC. She now divides her time between the city and the shore, and often trades the canyons of New York for the wide open spaces of Wyoming. Family vacations are often out west and, to date, she and her daughter have been to some 20 ranches throughout the west. Loveland, her first book, was a finalist for Best American Historical at the 2013 RONE Awards. Lawless Love, a short story, part of The Wild Rose Press ‘Lawmen and Outlaws’ series, was a finalist for Best Historical Novella at the RONE Awards. Dearest Darling, a novella, is part of The Wild Rose Press Love Letters series, and comes out Oct. 8th and Dances of the Heart, another full length novel, comes out in the next few months.
WEBSITE AND BLOG: http://andreadowning.com
AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE: http://www.amazon.com/Andrea-Downing/e/B008MQ0NXS/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0
I first heard about Dunmore Cave in County Kilkenny, Ireland two years ago while watching an episode of Cities of the Underworld on the History Channel. The fact that stuck in my head was that 1000 people were believed to have been massacred in the cave, in 928AD or 930AD depending on which version of the Irish annals you read.
Gothfrith, grandson of Ímar, with the foreigners of Áth Cliath, razed Derc Ferna—something unheard of from ancient times - From the Annals of Ulster
The besieging of Derc Ferna and its taking in which one thousand men die. – From the Chronicon Scotorum
(Derc Ferna is the ancient name for Dunmore Cave.)
Now I have to wonder what the archeological evidence says. I mean if a thousand men were slaughtered there would be some material left behind; bones fragments, axe heads, or a chunk broken from a sword blade. There would be something as it's almost impossible, especially in the early medieval period to eradicate the mess made by slaughtering a thousand people. So what does the evidence tell us?
It seems that the cave is littered with bones. Some are animal bones and many of the animals were believed to have been eaten by other animals. Cut marks and burns on the remainder of the animal bones point to their being butchered by humans. Proof that people lived and ate in the cave.
And what of the bodies? In 1973 the remains forty-four people were discovered within the cave most of them women and children. There are no signs of violence on any of the skeletons. So what killed them? It’s believed they hid in the cave during the attack. The Vikings then lit fires at the entrance to the cave and suffocated them.
But a new look at the evidence is questioning this belief. Most of the objects found in the cave have been of Viking origin.
In their paper: Recent Archeological Discoveries in Dunmore Cave, County Kilkenny: Further Questions Regarding Viking Activity at the Site
Authors Marion A. Dowd, Linda G. Lynch and Margaret McCarthy list some of the finds:
A collection of Viking material, including nine silver coins dating to around 930 AD, were found during excavations in the cave in 1973 (Drew and Huddart 1980, 17). In 1999, a second collection of Viking material - though of later 10th century date - was discovered at the site including 14 Anglo-Saxon silver pennies, a silver penannular arm-ring, hack silver, strap tags and 16 conical-shaped objects woven from silver wire.
Of particular interest to me are the silver coins because the native Irish didn’t use coins to trade. Coins were used by the Vikings. Could this be a Viking grave and were the objects recovered grave goods. I don’t know that that answers the whole question, because if that was the case then where are all the men?
There have been suggestions that the Vikings lost their silver and coins when they attacked, but there is no evidence of violence in the remains so that can’t be the whole answer either.
But there obviously can’t have been a thousand people killed within the walls of the cave. So where did that number come from? It seems that there were two ringforts nearby and the massacre took place there with survivors fleeing to the cave.
(At this time I’ve been unable to discover the name or exact location of the forts. If you have some information about them I’d love to hear it.)
It’s unfortunate that science has not provided us with any definitive answers when it comes to what actually occurred in the cave and the origins of it’s inhabitants. Perhaps archeologist of the future can discover more about the identities of the bodies in Dunmore Cave.
Do you have a history mystery? If you do I’d love to hear about it.
Determined to win back Christina, Steven will take the law into his own hands...even if he has to play dirty.
The Wild Rose Press
Be sure to drop by my website during the month of October to enter an awesome giveaway to celebrate the release of Law of Attraction!
Lawyer Christina Crawford has a successful career and stable financial future, but is it enough? Her world is disrupted when a routine divorce case means working with a man she never expected—or wanted—to see again. During their first meeting, she can't deny a connection still exists. Her head warns her to run, but her heart yearns to stay.
Steven Mitchell is ruthless in the court room, but outside those doors, his easy charm, good looks and unlimited stream of female companions gives him an unscrupulous reputation. Six years ago Christina saw beyond his façade, but the emotions she evoked scared him and he pushed her away. Now he wants a second chance and he is determined to get her back...even if he has to play dirty.
Heart pounding in her chest, she closed the door behind him. Wearing her best business face, she returned to this disastrous meeting and sat. Christina drew in a deep breath, and a measure of control was restored. She picked up her pen and flipped open the case file. “So, according to these documents, your client is contesting the divorce?”
Steven reached across the table and snatched the pen from her hand. “What’s the rush, Christina? We haven’t seen each other in years. There’s a lot of catching up to do.”
She clenched her teeth together, barely parting her lips as she spoke. “We have nothing but this case to discuss.”
“Come on, don’t be like that.” He leaned back in his chair, frowning. “You’re not still holding a grudge, are you? What happened was so long ago. I hoped we could start fresh, as friends.”
“Are you freaking serious?” She glared an icy stare. Forget a slow death by high heel. She’d get more pleasure strangling him with her bare hands. “You accused me of misconduct, had me fired, and now you want to be friends?” Her heart thumped a rapid beat in her ears. “You’re out of your mind.”
About the Author:
An avid reader since childhood, Darlene loved to put a pencil to paper and plot out stories of her own. She writes heartwarming contemporary romances with a focus on plot-driven page-turners. When Darlene isn’t writing, editing, or reading, she enjoys spending time with her husband, daughter, and Yellow Lab.
Web Blog: http://findingthewritewords.blogspot.com
The loudest sound in recorded history occurred when a volcano in Indonesia named Krakatoa erupted. It started on 26th August and continued through 27th August1883. The explosion was so loud that sailors 40 miles away suffered from perforated eardrums.
I want to share some of the facts and figures with you.
I’ve always been fascinated this event. It was the worst volcanic eruption in recorded history. Although there have been similar events. In 536 a volcano under Lake Ilopango, in Central America, erupted. It had global consequences and is believed to be the catalyst that plunged Europe into the Dark Age.
If The Krakatoa event were to happen today the effects would be even more devastating. Air travel and shipping would be disrupted worldwide. But more importantly, there are over 200 million people living in Java and Sumatra today, a significantly larger population than one hundred and thirty one years ago.
I hope to uncover some survivor stories for a future posts. I want to put a human face to the data. This will help me truly understand the cataclysmic events of 1883.
Hell's Bounty Available
The Wild Rose Press
Book One of the Heaven and Hell Series
Raven Hart, a succubus bounty hunter for Hell, is on a hunt. With her query in sight, she hits a brick wall, or rather the very hard chest of a giant sexy man. She might have lost the prize for now, but she's a winner when the hottie wants to get physical.
Marcus Dionysius, a Nephilim working for Heaven, has one mission—to prevent Hell’s beauty from stealing souls meant for the higher plane. But he soon realizes he’s met his sexual match. She’s naughty enough to tempt his senses, but her innocence means he can’t walk away when she needs him most.
Working together to discover who’s snatching souls from Heaven, they realize the true danger is falling in love.
“So all of this, you becoming my partner, was just a ploy to kill me?”
She looked him in the eye. “You just said you were sent to take me out. We both know that means to kill me. So why are you lying now?”
Marcus stood and then sat down on the bed beside her. The instant he took a breath, her luscious scent fill him, aroused him. If he wasn’t careful, he could easily succumb to her allure and not get the job done. He’d never experienced such lust before and needed to feel her pussy squeezing around his cock. He wanted to press her down against the bed, strip her, and fuck her. Hard. “Look, I’m not lying. I don’t believe for one minute that you knew the captain was setting you up. But I still have a job to do. Help me prove your innocence.”
She took a deep breath and her breasts quivered. Her hard nipples budded against her blouse, as if inviting him to claim them. She shook her head. “I don’t know.” Her voice cracked. “You don’t know who gave the orders or you don’t know how to help me?” She looked up at him, her eyes filled with doubt and terror.
Marcus placed his hand on her shoulder and was surprised when she leaned into him. “Both.” she whispered, as if afraid of the answer.
Kayden Claremont’s Bio
Kayden loves sexy, well-crafted stories of lust and love. Her sensuous style drives the characters in lustful romps.
Hell’s Bounty is her first publication with The Wild Rose Press.
Kayden is a member of Romance Writers of America, Toronto Romance Writers; Kiss of Death Chapter, Fantasy, Futuristic and Paranormal Chapter.
When she’s not at her day job she’s crafting more tales of love and crime or spending time with her husband and children.
She lives outside Toronto with her husband.
Visit her at:
Between the responsibility for the care of her injured mother and straightening out her muddled finances, public health researcher Sarah Wright hasn't a minute to herself, much less time to repair a fractured romance. After a much loved aunt goes missing, Sarah is convinced it's a kidnapping but the police refuse to investigate. Former fiancé Dan flies to Sarah's side to help—and it looks like things might come back together for the two of them—until Sarah is arrested for her aunt's murder. As evidence stacks up against her, Sarah must find the real culprits as well as unravel decades old family secrets along the way.
A short time later, Dan opened the door to the hotel room. “After you.”
The cats stared at Sarah from the couch, eyes glinting in the low light. A galley kitchen to the right was set up with cat and dog bowls and a vase of flowers sat on the end of the counter.
“For me?” She put her arms around him and gave him a fierce hug. He hugged her back and just as she turned her face up for a kiss, her phone rang. The Caller ID showed Baltimore County.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I think I’d better take this.”
“Where are you?” Officer Mike said. “I need to talk to you.”
“I have nothing to say to you except this: Go to hell!”
Dan stared at Sarah. “Who is it?”
“Watch your language,” Officer Mike said.
“Watch yourself. I trusted you, Mike. You put me in jail. What kind of justice is that?”
“I need to speak with you in person.”
“Sarah—” Dan said.
“Get a court order or arrest me.” Sarah shouted. “This is harassment. I told you my aunt was missing and you did nothing, except to say she was an adult. The next thing I know you’re accusing me of murdering her. Have you looked for her housekeeper, or the creep in the white van that tried to run me down? What about the people who tried to drown me?” She took a long shuddering breath. “You’ve done nothing, nothing and nothing. It was easier to pin the supposed murder on me so forgive me if I say I don’t trust you.”
“I’m in mourning. Don’t bother me.”
Sarah slammed the phone shut, leaned back against the door, slid to the floor, and sobbed.
Dan knelt down in front of her, lifted her chin, and looked her in the eyes. “You should have let him talk you, Sarah.”
She pulled away and glared at him. “I thought you were on my side. Are you against me, too?”
“No, but you don’t seem to be thinking clearly,” he said. “Next time, see what he has to say before you start yelling.”
“You’re a great Monday-morning quarterback.”
He looked stung. “What are you talking about?”
“You always have a better way to do something. No matter what, I can’t ever do anything right, can I? But you, Mr. Perfect, you have the One Right Way. Your way. Maybe it’s time we just accept the fact that I’ll never be good enough for you. Go ahead. Walk out. It’s what you’re good at.”
“I’m a perfectionist? How about you, Ms. Control Freak? Your life is completely unmanageable and there’s nothing you can do about it. The only thing you can control is you. Not your mother, not Aunt Ida, not the police, not the criminals. You and I are a lot more alike than you want to believe. We both want it our way, because we’re smart, and we think we know what’s right.”
Sarah opened her mouth to argue, but before she could speak, he pulled her into his chest and kissed her hard on the lips.
When she pulled away, he said, “I am not leaving you. You can kick, scream, shove, and push me away all you want, but I’m not going anywhere. We have a second chance to make things right in our lives. How many people can say that? We’ll get through this. Together.”
She collapsed into his arms and sobbed. “I’m sorry, so sorry.”
“Shhh,” he said and held her tight.
The cats climbed onto her lap, and Winston leaned against her. “Dan?”
“I’m squished. Can you help me up?” As Dan helped her to her feet she sniffled and said, “I really missed you. I even missed our fights.”
“I missed making up,” he said sliding his arms around her waist. “Why don’t you show me how much you missed me?”
She pulled on his tie and began walking backward toward the bathroom.
Where Sharon Buchbinder and Some Other Child can be found on the Internet
Book Trailer for Some Other Child