Peggy Jaeger's Blog, page 37

#tuesdayTease #teaserTuesday 2.6.2024

This past Saturday I told you some backstory to my upcoming April 23rd release of Retribution. If you can stand some more about the book ( LOL) here’s a little bit of a tease…this shows you what Kella’s life is like now, 10 years after she left the FBI.

“This is some menu,” Jameson said, reading down both sides.

“Kella claimed it was the best food for fifty miles,” Tucker told them, taking in the packed room. “I don’t think she was exaggerating.”

He’d called ahead for reservations, and they’d been shown to a table immediately upon arrival. He’d seen no sign yet of Sean or Kella.

“What looks good?” Diego asked.

“Everything,” Anna said, her eyes widening at the vast and varied array of choices. “I’m glad I had that workout today. There’s no dish on here that isn’t at least fifteen hundred calories.”

“Oh, there are a few,” Kella said.

She was standing at their table, three little bodies with her. On her hip was a small girl whose hair and texture were cloned from her mother. Brilliant, oval blue eyes shot out at them, wide and watchful, a thumb secured in her mouth.

Anna was stunned to see the three men rise.

“Sit down,” she said, waving her hand at them and smiling. “These are my girls. This,” she jiggled the toddler in her arms, causing a squeal of giggles to erupt around the mouth-attached thumb, “is Bridget. She’s eighteen months. This,” she laid a hand on the shoulder of her second daughter, a small version of her father with curly black hair pulled back in a headband, and eyes the shape and color of perfect chocolate chips, “is Enya.”

“I’m five.”

“And proud of it,” Kella said. “And this is –”

“I’m Donelle. I’m the oldest. I’m nine.”

Tucker stared, mesmerized by the little girl. Sean’s build, coloring and physical intensity were branded on her, but her face was pure Kella, right down to the slight dip that ski-sloped the edge of her nose. Eyes the shape of seasoned almonds and lashes darker than anything Tucker had ever seen fanned her high, chiseled cheeks when she blinked. A small, lush pouty mouth ended in a strong and perfectly heart-shaped jaw which was boldly upturned, an expression Tucker knew from memory.

“In case you missed it, she’s also the shyest,” Kella said, her lips curving at the corners.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Tucker said, reclaiming his seat.

“How do you know Mommy?” Enya asked. “You’re not from here. We know most everybody ‘cause our daddy owns this rest’rant and everybody in town comes here. But you’re new.”

Tucker managed to conceal the smile looming on his face by reaching for a drink of water.

“I know them from where I used to live,” Kella said.

“In Washington, D.C.” Donelle told her younger sister.

“That’s right. From a long time ago before you were all born.”

Enya turned her attention back to Tucker and said, “You must be old.”

He was reprieved from replying by their waitress returning to take their order.

Intrigued? LOL. Hope so

~ Peg

#mondaymusings #musingsonamonday 2.5.2024

Shows my age, doesn’t it?? LOL

#Comingsoon

So, I’ve been hinting ( or hitting you over the head, you decide which, lol!) with notices about my upcoming 4.23.2024 release of RETRIBUTION. Today, I decided to do a little background story about how this project came to be.

If you’ve read anything by me before you should know this book is a huge departure from the lighthearted, small-town, romance books I usually write.

And you may be upset by that. I get it. This book is so not a lighthearted rom-com.

But before I ever wrote a word in the romance genre, I wrote short stories and books about death, dying, and serial killers.

I’m the girl Netflix invented the serial killer binge-watch for, lol.

Serial killers, and people who murder in general, have always fascinated me ever since I was in nursing school. I attended Hunter College, Bellevue School of Nursing and one of the years I was a student, a group of foreign nationals held a failed terror attack on New York. Several of the injured would-be-terrorists were treated in Bellevue’s ER and then sent to the prison wing of the psych lockdown unit. Having narrowly missed becoming a statistic, I found myself fascinated about what would compel someone to kill like this. The pseudo-vigilante group, the Guardian Angels, took up residence outside my dorms during this time as a protection blanket for the students.

In my junior year of nursing school, Mark David Chapman shot and killed John Lennon. That day will live in my mind forever as the day I decided that psychiatric nursing was calling my name. Unfortunately, I already had a job in a medical/surgical unit waiting for me when I graduated. But while working, I learned everything I could about the criminal mind, and centered on killers and serial killers, what made them tick, why they needed to kill, and how their minds worked.

I know: Not exactly the kind of thing you’d expect from someone who writes Happily Ever Afters.

RETRIBUTION was written almost 20 years ago on my very first home computer. At the time, I wrote it simply for me, and it was called VINDICATION. Once done, I left it in a file on my desktop and never thought about it again while I continued writing more grisly short stories. Many of them were published in short story magazines of the day and last year I compiled a collection of them in the book Death Between the Pages the same time, Kindle Vella was launched and I thought, why not put up the first real book I’d ever written?

So I did.

The response was wild. Good reviews- and some really nasty ones – later, I decided to update the story and publish it to print.

I won’t be abandoning my sweet-to-sexy romance stories any time soon, so don’t worry. But I really needed to get this one out into the reading world, so…

When I have preorder or order links, I’ll post. For now, here’s the cover and blurb:

6 teenage girls have been kidnapped, brutalized, and murdered in the Washington DC area and the FBI’s SPCD Unit – the Sexual Predators of Children Profilers – are nowhere close to finding the monster responsible.   How are the victims chosen? How does the killer find them, contact them, lure them into his sick web? Questions the team has no answers for.

When a high-ranking US Senator’s daughter is the next victim, SPCD team leader, Tucker Petrie, is forced to call upon retired profiler — and his last partner — Kella O’Brien for help. Kella’s been out of the game for 10 years, but her expertise and insights into a serial killer’s mind are unparalleled. If anyone can discover who this madman is, it’s Kella.

But as the team rushes to prevent another young girl’s death, clues the killer leaves behind have Kella wondering if his endgame is all about…her.

~Peg 1/24

#fridayfive 2.2.2024

Today’s five are my favorite one-liners in movies. I’m a sucker for a one-liner, throwaway line! In my writing, I try to be creative and give my characters really good, memorable one-liners. Sometimes I get it right; sometimes…not so much, LOL.

But these are the lines that have stuck with me forever.

“Get off my plane” AIR FORCE ONE“There’s no place like home” THE WIZARD OF OZ“Leave the gun, take the cannolis” THE GODFATHER“I would die for you” ROBIN HOOD, PRINCE OF THIEVES“I’m just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her.” NOTTING HILL.

And I have to add one more because I quote it sososo much.

“I ain’t got time to bleed.” PREDATOR

#throwbackthursday 2.1.2024

Today’s blog re-read comes from one I did for ROMANCING THE GENRES in January, 2021. Here’s the link: ROMANCING THE GENRES

 One of my favorite quotes of all time is from the amazeballs Maya Angelou, and I repeat it to myself often. 

Never has this thought been so profound in my writing life as it is right now.

When I started writing as a child I wrote like a, well, child. My short stories were a series of “and then his happened-s,” run-on sentences, and prose packed with adverbs, flowery descriptions, and analogies that had no real comparative basis behind them. My fiction read more like a diary entry than actual crafted storytelling. But I found great joy in the writing.

My graduate thesis was written from a scientific methodology viewpoint and reads like the driest medical tome ever penned. Facts, figures, graphs, statistics. Boring with a capital BORING. But I loved writing it.

As I began writing non-fiction articles on motherhood and the life of a 30-something for magazines after I had my daughter, I wrote with an easy, I’m-just-talking-to-you-over-coffee style. Nothing craft-heavy at all, no real plot or story structure, just a simple imparting of info laced with humor and self-deprecating insights. Writing these articles was a labor of love that made me feel lighter and more confident with myself as a new mother and a woman trying to navigate through a crazy world.

Even blog writing, which is more of a conversation with me in the driver’s seat brings me a sense of purpose and accomplishment. I can pop a blog post out in less than a half-hour most days, never have to edit it for content – only spelling mistakes – and then hit post without worry. Love that!

When I first began writing fiction in my 50’s I knew nothing about plot, structure, conflict, subplot, sub-text, or character motivation. I simply had a story in my head and wanted to get it on paper. I look at my debut romance novel, SKATER’S WALTZ from The Wild Rose Press, now and think, yeah, it was a decent story…but really could have been better. But I wrote that book with such joy in my heart during a time in my life that was very challenging. The sense of accomplishment and utter jubilation that it was actually published was a top ten event in my life.

Now that I write romantic fiction in a few sub-genres – RomCom, Contemporary, Romantic Suspense lite – I have to write in a way that brings the reader into the story, gets them hooked on the characters, and leaves them at the end of the book satisfied and wanting more from me. I have an obligation to the reader to present a satisfying product to them.

No easy feat, this, and one which – daily – gives me agita! I’ve gotten so worried this past year about selling books, marketing, and learning new digital ways to publish just to get my books in front of people that I’ve lost my way a little in the writing from my heart department. The joy just hasn’t been there and I think it’s shown in my writing.

So, after close to 30 books published, I’ve decided to do something that sounds a bit crazy, and, in all honesty, probably is.

I’m starting over. 

See? Crazy.

What it really means is that I’m going back to basics, armed with the wisdom I’ve managed to gather these past 5 years since I was first published. Readers want a story that they can tell the author just loved writing. They want to fall in love with the hero and heroine much the same way the characters fell in love with one another, and the writer did as well as she was bringing them to life.

I want that, too.

Those are the books I want to read, the stories I want to fill my soul. 

They are also the stories I want to write.

So, with age and experience, comes wisdom and I am taking that wisdom into 2021 and writing my heart out. I’ve got a list of books that will be written and released this year, some traditionally published and several new indie releases as well. I’m not worrying about marketing, sales, getting on bestseller lists, or even winning any awards this year.

What I am going to do is simply write my heart out because that’s what makes me happy. And I know when I’m happy, my readers are, too.

See? I know better now…so I’m going to do better.

#wednesdaywisdom 1.31.2024

As we end the month, let’s do so with positivity!

#tuesdaytease 1.30.2024

So, I am almost ready to release my Kindle Vella book Vindication into print. I’ve been editing and updating it for the past month and I even changed the title to RETRIBUTION because I like that one better.

If you aren’t a VELLA reader, this will be your opportunity to read my very first serial murder book. Long before I ever wrote romance I was obsessed with serial killers. In all honesty, I kinda still am. It stems from my psychiatric nursing background.

Here’s a little taste of the story…

Settled in the Mercedes passenger seat, Kella watched Tucker guide both cars, the agents following behind, back to the motel.

“I want to apologize for Sean,” she said. “Hedoesn’t usually behave like that. Seeing you, well, it set him off.”

Tucker fingered his bruised jaw. “You don’t have to apologize. I know he hates my guts.”

“He doesn’t hate you, Tucker.”

His left eyebrow bent into a you’ve-got-to-be-joking angle. “I know he still blames me for what happened, Kella. He feels it was my fault you almost died because of my mistake. I’ve felt the same way every day for the past ten years. And I’d feel the same way if I were in his shoes.”

“No, you wouldn’t and you know it. You’d find some way to rationalize what happened, compartmentalize it into some sort of learning experience, and try to figure out what to do better next time.”

He threw her a pained look.

Grinning, she added, “But it’s nice of you to say that.”

They drove in silence for a few minutes.

“You haven’t changed a bit, you know,” she told him.

“You have,” he blurted, regretting it in an instant.

“I know.” Her laugh was husky and tinged with self-deprecation.  “Three kids and a husband who owns the best restaurant in town will do that to you.”

“No, not like that,” he said, flicking a quick glance at her. “You look like you’re in the best shape of your life, actually.”

“I am. Karate plus a home gym helps.”

“It’s your hair. It’s darker, less red than it used to be. Longer, too.”

“Hormones. It darkened up with each pregnancy. I don’t look like a circus clown anymore, thank God.”

Tucker shook his head. “You never looked like a clown, Kella. Your hair was distinctive. It was part of you.”

She laughed and said, “That’s a very diplomatic way of saying it, I guess.”

“Your voice is so different. If I’d heard it on the phone I would never have believed it was you.”

She fingered the scar that ran the width of her neck from just under one ear, all the way to the other. Heavy makeup helped conceal it when clothing didn’t. Every time she looked in a mirror she was reminded of that horrible day.

“It sounds like you’ve been smoking and drinking too much,” he said.

“My doctor told me it was a miracle I could speak at all. The damage to the cords was extensive. I’m just happy to have a voice, no matter how I sound.”

“I imagine Sean thinks it’s sexy.”

Kella’s slow and thoughtful smile lit up the front seat. “Yeah. He does.”

“And you seem happy. Happier than I ever remember you being.”

“I am. I love my life.”

“It’s so different from your past.”

She thought about that for a moment. “In the big scheme of things it’s not. The main part of my life back then was spent taking care of Daddy. Now I take care of Sean and our girls.”

Tucker shook his head. “The main part of your life back then was spent using your magnificent brain to help the Bureau. You didn’t have the most normal of upbringings.”

“I survived.”

“Thankfully. I can’t imagine what your life is like now. The suburban housewife. Carpools; soccer practice.  Stepford,” he added, shaking as if an electrical current shot down his spine.

Her lips stretched into a grimace. “Not quite.”

“You were always so independent, so self-governing. Ready to pick up in a half second to run to a crime scene or fly off to one. It’s hard to think of you any other way.”

She shifted in her seat so she could face him. “Tuck, listen. My life is perfect for me. I’ve realized over these past years that before I was just moving through it, waiting for the next big case, waiting to help you or Daddy. I never did anything just for me. Everything I did involved, or was concerned with, one of you. When Daddy died and I decided to leave, I was making the right decision for me. I’ve never looked back.”

“Never?”

“Not once. I have everything I could ever want here. It’s all I want.”

“Tell me the truth —”

“Like I would lie?” she said, smiling when he turned a bemused expression on her.

“No, you never have. Do you ever miss it, even for a minute?”

She watched the streets pass by as they drove through the downtown. “Every now and again,” she began, “I’ll see you on a morning show, or the national news will be profiling the newest case you and the Posse are involved in. I’ll watch you, in typical Tucker Petrie fashion, sail through the questions and make the capture and arrest look like a piece of easy detective work, a no-brainer. And I’ll think to myself: if the people seeing this only knew what it does to you inside, how it makes you feel to get down to the lowest depths of humanity and view the world from the most jaded, sickest minds imaginable; to comprehend what supposedly civilized human beings are capable of doing to one another, you wouldn’t want the job for anything.”

She stopped, turned to him, and saw his lips tighten.

“In answer to your question, Tuck, no. I never miss it. Not even for a millisecond.”

#mondaymusings 1.28.2024

I know some authors who only consider a spreadsheet as an indication of how they are doing in their careers. How many book sales they’ve had; how many preorders on a new book coming out. And there’s nothing wrong with that. We didn’t go into the writing career to lose money, now did we? LOL

For me, though, my success – if you can call it that – has been more internal than the external monetary reward tract.

The very first time I ever had someone I didn’t know come up to me at a book signing and tell me they loved my book because the story or characters spoke to them, was a huge measure of personal success for me. I mean, we expect our family and friends to like what we write ( even though I don’t have many non-writing friends who read what I write, and no one in my family reads my books) when a total stranger who has nothing to gain by telling me that actually speaks those words, the internal orbit in my heart goes into the stratosphere!

I’ve entered more than my share of contests since I’ve been published and every time I win, place or even show in a contest based on writing, I feel successful because it means someone read my words with a critical eye and felt they were good enough to win some sort of prize.

So, not every measure of my personal success is measured in money or book sales.

Not that I’m saying those aren’t great, because…duh!
LOL

So how do measure your own personal/professional success? I’d really like to know because I’m nosy that way!

Have a good week ~ Peg

#Fridayfive 1.26.2024

Are you a romance reader? Or did you just stumble upon this blog because you were scrolling Google and liked the name? Hee hee.

I ask that question because for today’s Friday Five, I’m going to list the 5 books I recommend a novice romance reader read in order to discover what the genre is all about. Ready? Here ya go. My recs…

SHANNA “From New York Times bestselling author Kathleen E. Woodiwiss comes one of her most iconic and beloved romances of all time…A pact is sealed in secret behind the foreboding walls of Newgate Prison. In return for one night of unparalleled pleasure, a dashing condemned criminal consents to wed a beautiful heiress, thereby rescuing her from an impending and abhorred arranged union. But in the fading echoes of hollow wedding vows, a solemn promise is broken, as a sensuous free spirit takes flight to a lush Caribbean paradise, abandoning the stranger she married to face the gallows unfulfilled. Ruark Beauchamp’s destiny is now eternally intertwined with that of the tempestuous, intoxicating Shanna. He will be free . . . and he will find her. For no iron ever forged can imprison his resolute passion. And no hangman’s noose will keep Ruark from the bride— and ecstasy—that he craves.”  This was the first real adult romance ( read: SEX!) I ever read. To this day I think I’ve reread it 25 times! Perfection from a master writer.FRENCH SILK “When she becomes a murder suspect, a New Orleans beauty and lingerie tycoon must share her most deeply buried secrets with a disturbingly handsome district attorney in order to clear her name.

Like the city of New Orleans itself, Claire Laurent is a vibrant beauty laced with mystery. As the founder of French Silk, a fabulous lingerie company, she has fought hard to achieve worldwide success. Then a TV evangelist attacks French Silk’s erotic sleepwear as sinful. And when he is killed, Claire becomes the prime suspect.

District Attorney Robert Cassidy knows Claire is damning herself with lie after lie about the murder, even as he feels her drawing him into her world and her very soul. But neither Cassidy nor her protests of innocence can save Claire unless she reveals a shocking truth — one she has sworn to take to the grave . . .” Sandra Brown has been a one-click author for me since I read this book. Mystery, sex, romance, and a great story are the definition of an SB book!THE NOTEBOOK “At thirty-one, Noah Calhoun, back in coastal North Carolina after World War II, is haunted by images of the girl he lost more than a decade earlier. At twenty-nine, socialite Allie Nelson is about to marry a wealthy lawyer, but she cannot stop thinking about the boy who long ago stole her heart. Thus begins the story of a love so enduring and deep it can turn tragedy into triumph, and may even have the power to create a miracle…” He’s called schmaltzy and vanilla-y in his writing, but this story is a love story for the ages!THE THORN BIRDS “The Thorn Birds is a chronicle of three generations of Clearys—an indomitable clan of ranchers carving lives from a beautiful, hard land while contending with the bitterness, frailty, and secrets that penetrate their family. It is a poignant love story, a powerful epic of struggle and sacrifice, a celebration of individuality and spirit. Most of all, it is the story of the Clearys’ only daughter, Meggie, and the haunted priest, Father Ralph de Bricassart—and the intense joining of two hearts and souls over a lifetime, a relationship that dangerously oversteps sacred boundaries of ethics and dogma.” Hands down one of the best books every penned. A love story for the ages – forbidden love, family intrigue, secrets, and heartbreak, This book has it all!DEVIL IN WINTER “I’m Sebastian, Lord St. Vincent. I can’t be celibate. Everyone knows that.” Desperate to escape her scheming relatives, Evangeline Jenner has sought the help of the most infamous scoundrel in London. A marriage of convenience is the only solution. No one would have ever paired the shy, stammering wallflower with the sinfully handsome viscount. It quickly becomes clear, however, that Evie is a woman of hidden strength—and Sebastian desires her more than any woman he’s ever known. Determined to win her husband’s elusive heart, Evie dares to strike a bargain with the devil: If Sebastian can stay celibate for three months, she will allow him into her bed. When Evie is threatened by a vengeful enemy from the past, Sebastian vows to do whatever it takes to protect his wife . . . even at the expense of his own life. Together they will defy their perilous fate, for the sake of all-consuming love.” So no one writes a steamy, LONG, love scene like Kleypas. The hottest scene in this book takes place with the h/h standing upright and against a door. I’ll leave it to you to go read it!!! Kleypas is another of my one-click authors. I don’t write historical romance, but I read it because of her!

#throwbackThursday 1.25.2024

So today’s blog throwback is from 2017. I was going to be presenting my first workshop for my local chapter of RWA and I was…to say the least…a basket case about it!

So this past Saturday I gave my first ever PowerPoint presentation to my local chapter of RWA.

To say I was nervous would be to do a disservice to the knocking in my knees and the way my heart was shooting extra beats.

I’ve spoken publically before, — hell, I use to teach Nursing to undergrads! – but I haven’t spoken publically in a very long time. In fact, I haven’t done anything publically in a very long time, not since I retired and started writing full time.

I think I was nervous because  I didn’t want to screw up, be boring, or deliver a topic that didn’t appeal to the audience. I didn’t eat anything all day because I was terrified I’d hurl!

I’m sitting here to report (1) I did not hurl, (2) I was absolutely starving the minute the presentation ended! (3) my audience laughed, repeatedly and freely in all the appropriate spots (4) there was discussion about the topic – a lot of discussion, so YAY!, and (5) my audience seemed to genuinely like the presentation.

So, again, YAY!!!

Now I just have to get my nerve up again, because I’m giving this presentation again next month to another group.

But I’ll think about that…tomorrow. After all, tomorrow is another day.

When I’m not being overly dramatic, you can find me here:

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