Peggy Jaeger's Blog, page 38
January 23, 2024
#wednesdaywisdom 1.24.2024
January 22, 2024
#tuesdayteaser #teaserTuesday 1.23.2024

I’m almost done with book 2 in the Heaven’s Matchmaker series, so here’s a little bit…
Twenty minutes later he came back upstairs to find her sitting in front of her laptop.
“So?” she asked.
“Good news/bad news. The wiring is fine. But you need to replace both units. They’re almost forty years old, according to the model info. It’s amazing they lasted as long as they did, but the washing machine’s got multiple issues and the dryer even more. It makes more economic sense to replace them both than to repair the issues. It’d be quicker, too.”
She blew out a breath, then flexed her neck side to side, as if stretching some kinks out. He crossed over to her when her hand slid up her neck to squeeze the back of it. “How long will it take to get replacement units?” she asked.
Before he answered and without asking for permission, he flattened his hands across her shoulders and began kneading.
If she was shocked or mad he was touching her she disregarded it, instead letting out a low, guttural moan.
“Oh, good Lord, that feels good.”
“You’re a network of knots back here, Layla.”
“Work hazard,” she mumbled, dropping her chin to her chest as he worked out a particularly tight muscle group. “I’ve been on the computer for a week, exclusively, doing all my work there.”
“How do you usually do it?” He dug his thumb into a mass of knots just below her hairline.
“Oh. Wow. You’re good at this.”
He grinned. “Muscle strains are part of my job. Now, answer me. If you don’t work at the computer all day, what are you usually doing?”
“Visiting showrooms, warehouses. Design stores. I meet face-to-face with clients. Do consults.”
None of which she’d done since she’d been in town.
She slid her neck to one side and he pressed in, deeply, on her scapula. A shudder ran through her that zinged right through his hands and up his arm, like he’d touched a live, sparking wire.
Layla groaned again. The sound, so erotic, so enticing, so damn…pleasure-filled drew a line straight to his dick and he hardened like a brick in an instant. He’d give anything to have her make that sound while he was inside her.
The thought sent an ice river cascading over him.
He lifted his hands, rubbed them together once, then shucked them in his pockets.
What had he been thinking to touch her like that? So boldly. So…intimately.
She’s a client. You need to remember that. No mixing business with fun.
He eased out a breath.
No matter how much fun it might be.
Layla, oblivious to his mounting lust, tipped her head left and right a few times and sighed before she turned around.
Luckily, his hoodie fell below his hips, obstructing the bulge agonizingly pressing against his jean fly.
“I don’t think my neck’s been this loose in weeks.” She lifted her gaze to his, a question in her eyes. “How’d you learn how to do that?”
“My ex was a physical therapist. She practiced on me when she was in school.” A gentle shoulder lift and he added, “Some of it –” he rolled his eyes “– rubbed off.”
That tiny grin she’d shown him previously, built and grew until her lips parted, revealing perfect teeth.
Cody swallowed as his groin grew even tighter.
She dipped her chin a hair as she continued her perusal of his face. Her breathing was a little too fast and when her pupils dilated he took a step forward, then stopped mid-stride.
Her grin flew, a worry line grooving the spot between her eyes as she hissed in a breath.
“Layla—”
“How long will it take to get a replacement washer and dryer?” she asked, the words rushing from her. “And please don’t say weeks.”
He shook his head to clear it. “I can have them here by lunchtime if you know what you want.”
“Really? How? I can’t imagine there’s an appliance store with that kind of inventory and same-day service in Heaven.”
“There isn’t. But there is the next town over. The owner and I went all through school together and because I bring him so much business he’s always willing to help with an emergency. And this qualifies as one.”
Thankful he had something to do instead of stand there, staring at her and wanting to do something to ease the ache in his pants, he pulled his phone from his back pocket and called up the store’s website. “Here.” He pointed to her desk. “Sit down and type in this web address. You can see the brands and models he offers. Decide what you want and I’ll give him a call to make sure everything’s in stock.”
She did as he asked and within fifteen minutes was assured both models would be delivered within the hour.
“I can’t believe this,” she said, when he disconnected the call. “Whenever I’ve dealt with dealers and businesses for merchandise for my clients, I always have to wait weeks, if not months, for the items.”
“You don’t live in a small town,” he said, lifting his toolbox again from where he’d left it in the hallway. “Those local connections go a long way toward making life easier. That old saw about one hand washing the other runs true here. Something you might consider if you decide to set up shop in Heaven.”
She stared across the room at him, a look he couldn’t decipher crossing her face.
“I’m gonna head up to the attic,” he told her. “See to those issues you mentioned. The delivery truck should be here in less than an hour.”
Worry. It was worry forming across her lips and pale skin.
“Can you be in charge of the delivery?” she asked, her voice shaking. It was subtle, and you’d have to know what she sounded like usually to actually hear it. But he did. “I mean,” she threaded her fingers together and pressed them against her tummy. “Since you know them, and everything. I’d just be in the way.”
Silently, he cursed her idiot ex- fiancé again. He doubted she’d ever worried a whit about not knowing deliverymen or anyone else for that matter. He could lay her hesitation and apprehension squarely on his indicted doorstep.
The asshole.
He’d give anything to wipe the worry and dread from her face.
“Give me a shout-out when they get here,” he told her. Relief drifted over her lovely face.
Good thing the idiot ex was in another state, incarcerated, because he really wanted to punch him in the face.
Stay tuned – publication date announcement coming…soon. At least I hope it is, lol!
January 21, 2024
#musingsonaMonday 1.22.2024

This is a really great question, esp. for me. My motto has always been one I developed on my own; the Tao of NGU-NGI.
What it means is never give up, never give in.
I live by that, especially with my writing career. Oh, who am I kidding?! I also live it -strongly – in my personal life. Just ask anyone I’ve ever had an argument with, lol!
Do you have a creed or motto you live by? Let me know and we can discuss it… ~ Peg
January 19, 2024
#FridayFive 1.19.2024

Last week I did my top 5 non-fiction favorite books. This week, the fiction ones. And you’ll be surprised that they’re not all romance books (!).
THE SEVEN HUSBANDS OF EVELYN HUGO Aging and reclusive Hollywood movie icon Evelyn Hugo is finally ready to tell the truth about her glamorous and scandalous life. But when she chooses unknown magazine reporter Monique Grant for the job, no one is more astounded than Monique herself. Why her? Why now. Monique is not exactly on top of the world. Her husband has left her, and her professional life is going nowhere. Regardless of why Evelyn has selected her to write her biography, Monique is determined to use this opportunity to jumpstart her career. Summoned to Evelyn’s luxurious apartment, Monique listens in fascination as the actress tells her story. From making her way to Los Angeles in the 1950s to her decision to leave show business in the ‘80s, and, of course, the seven husbands along the way, Evelyn unspools a tale of ruthless ambition, unexpected friendship, and a great forbidden love. Monique begins to feel a very real connection to the legendary star, but as Evelyn’s story near its conclusion, it becomes clear that her life intersects with Monique’s own in tragic and irreversible ways.PRIDE AND PREJUDICE Do I really need to synopsis this one? LOLNAKED IN DEATH The first EVE DALLAS book.In the year 2058, technology completely rules the world. But for New York City Detective Eve Dallas, one irresistible impulse still rules the heart: passion…
Eve Dallas is a New York police lieutenant hunting for a ruthless killer. In over ten years on the force, she’s seen it all—and knows her survival depends on her instincts. And she’s going against every warning telling her not to get involved with Roarke, an Irish billionaire—and a suspect in Eve’s murder investigation. But passion and seduction have rules of their own, and it’s up to Eve to take a chance in the arms of a man she knows nothing about—except the addictive hunger of needing his touch.New York TO DALLAS My favorite of the series. When a monster named Isaac McQueen—taken down by Eve back in her uniform days—escapes from Rikers, he has two things in mind. One is to take up where he left off, abducting young victims and leaving them scarred in both mind and body. The other is to get revenge on the woman who stopped him all those years ago.
ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS ( Novella) my favorite Christmas romance. Identical twin boys Zeke and Zach only want one gift from Santa this year: a new wife for their lonely single dad, Mac Taylor, a builder who fixes things up in their small town. But convincing their love-wary dad that their music teacher, Nell Davis, is not only part of Santa’s plan, but Mac’s soul mate, isn’t quite as easy as they’d hoped FRENCH SILK , My favorite Sandra Brown book. 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 . . .
Okay, so it’s 6 but one of them is a novella so that only counts for half, lol!
January 17, 2024
10 months…
I’ve finally started going through all the stuff I saved from my mother’s house before I sold it. I packed a box of things I intended to go through at one point to see if they were keepers or tossers. Up until now, I haven’t had the emotional fortitude to sort through it all.
Today, 10 months on, I figured it was time.
I already went through all the photographs last month. The box now is mostly filled with a few books she and my stepfather had accumulated throughout the years and some odds and ends.
What I typically call junk.
There was an ancient health and diseases book they must have picked up at a garage or tag sale. The copyright page is missing but the book looks old enough to have been printed in maybe the 60s or 70s. Several afflictions were outlined in yellow marker. Prostate disease; low magnesium; shaking legs syndrome; digestive issues; lower flank pain. I could tell, just from these, it was my stepfather who used this book as a health bible.
I’ve mentioned this previously, but my mother hadn’t seen a doctor in almost 50 years before she broke her first hip. She wasn’t hypochondriacal like my stepfather was. Is.
Another book was one I’d given them several years ago about cats. It was mainly a picture book. This one I know was my mother’s. The woman adored cats. If they’d been able to care for a pet, I’m sure they would have had a few. As it was, they could barely care for themselves.
I moved on to the pictures after making a book toss and donate pile. The health book went in the toss one. No surprise, there.
My mother’s living room wall had been awash in photographs of me, my daughter, and my grandson. I told you last month about the scotch tape issues. I’m still shuddering at all the tape I had to remove. So many pictures had to be trashed because they were damaged from the tape.
My mother was – if not a full one-blown one, then a mild– hoarder. Mostly, it was tchotchkes that had no intrinsic value, items she found at the Senior Center for twenty-five cents or at a garage sale for a dime.
She always said to me when she got something new, “This is worth so much more than I paid for it. Look it up. You’ll see.”
I had no idea where I was supposed to look up the value of a coffee mug of Garfield the cat with a visible chip in the handle.
Or where I could find the resale value of a postcard of the Statue of Liberty someone had put into a plastic frame from the Dollar Store.
And just why did she think a ceramic dinner plate with the slogan Don’t Worry, Be Happy and a smiley face was worth anything of monetary substance?
It finally dawned on me the value of everything she’d bought had worth to her and that was how she – in her mind – justified it.
She loved cats and when I was growing up we had several, including a red ginger cat named Buff. Hence, the Garfield mug.
Her parents came over at a time when they had to pass through Ellis Island and stop at the Statue of Liberty to legally enter the country. Hence, the framed postcard.
Despite her horrible life, she always had upbeat expectations and loved to smile. Hence…well, you get it.
I wish that at the time I was so concerned about all these THINGS junking up her small trailer and which I told her were doing so, I could have had the insight I do now to her motivations.
She’d lost so much in life – her father at a young age, one sister to suicide, her first marriage, a baby in utero; multiple jobs and financial setbacks; and the legitimate practice of the faith she adored. It was no wonder she attached value to worthless (in my eyes) items.
In hers, they were priceless.
January 16, 2024
#wednesdaywisdom 1.17.2024
January 15, 2024
#teasertuesday 1.16.2024

Don’t let the little heart in that graphic fool you into thinking this is going to be a romance book discussion today.
I just decided to publish another of my VELLA stories and put it into print. VINDICATION was the first serial murder/suspense book I ever penned back in the day when I wasn’t writing romantic fiction.

This one involves the abductions and mutilation murders of 13-year-old girls in the DC area. The SPCD – Sexual Predators of Children division – of the FBI is a group of profilers who study this type of killer and they’ve been given the case. When the team is stymied, they are forced to call in a retired member of the group to help out. What happens then is creepy, gruesome, and – I think – riveting.
Here’s a little taste, which is the opening scene….
Virginia; Ten years ago.
“How does it feel to know you’re dying, Agent O’Brien?”
The soft, dulcet sound of his oddly feminine voice sent a river of ice-cold sweat down her spine. The knife slash he’d slit across her neck pumped blood, like a fountain bubbling over, drenching her. Her father’s dead body was sprawled across the room, the officer assigned to protect them, slouched against the wall where he’d been struck down after answering the demanding knock at the door.
The only movement in the room was the killer’s as he wiped her blood from his hands with a single paper towel.
“Do you feel a calm, almost spiritual joy welling up inside you?” He squatted in front of her, shaved head cocked to one side as he regarded her through eyes devoid of compassion and filled with psychotic glee. “Can you feel death approaching? See any white lights? Is your mind even working with any rational thought right now?”
He rolled the gore-filled towel into a tight ball and stuffed it into his mouth, then swallowed it in one quaff, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the effort.
“Mustn’t leave any evidence behind, must we.” The maniacal grin she’d grown to despise skittered across his face.
Her gun lay, inert, just beyond reach where it dropped when he surprised them with the attack. She tried to crawl her fingers to it, but the sheer force of movement was exhausting. Sweat pumped from her forehead, drowning her eyes, clouding her vision.
Watching her efforts, a bemused expression furrowed his brow and twitched at his lips.
“Don’t bother,” he told her. “Even if you had the strength to pull the trigger, you’d miss. About now your reflexes have all frozen from shock. Your breathing is shallow and quick, your pulse rate thready, barely palpable. All your blood is pumping out of your neck, none of it getting to your organs. You’ll die in another minute or so. I know how this works, Agent O’Brien.”
His mouth broke into a full-toothed smile. “I’ve made death my life’s study. What a rush it is to see the actual life leave a body and know I’m responsible for it happening. It’s a feeling that has no equal. Not even the best sex of your life feels so good.”
The feral grin broadened. “Power. Ultimate and absolute power over life and death. And I have it.”
Her weakened palm pushed against the butt of the gun while he spoke, then across it to slide a finger along the trigger.
“Are you for real?” he asked, derision lacing the question.
She tried to blink the moisture from her vision so she could focus on the gun.
“You really think you’re going to die a hero, don’t you? That I’d let you? Go ahead, then.” He rose and stared down at her, hands on his skeletal hips, sophomoric defiance in his stance.
“Go ahead,” he repeated with a careless shrug. “Try to shoot me. You won’t be able to. You’re too weak to lift your gun, much less fire it. You’ll wind up shooting the ceiling if anything. Guaranteed you won’t hit me.” He folded his arms across his chest and smirked. “I’ve got nothing else to do but watch you and wait for you to die, so just try and shoot me.”
She flicked her parched tongue over lips that tasted of metal and was fueled by the flavor.
“Okay.”
The word was almost inaudible as it croaked from her. With every ounce of life left, she leaned forward and, in one fluid motion, managed to grab the gun, raise it, point, and pull the trigger.
A shocked expression exploded on his face. Eyes bulging from their sockets, mouth paralyzed into a silent moue of amazement, the bullet shattered into his brow, dead center, freezing his astonishment in place, leaving a burning hole smoking with the heat of the bullet. A millisecond later his body fell straight backward, his head banging on the concrete floor, dead.
The gun bounced from her grasp as her hand banged back to the floor.
“I never miss,” she whispered. A volcanic coughing spasm spewed blood from her nose and mouth. Glancing over at her father, a solitary tear escaped from her eye and drizzled down her temple, while a screech of sirens blared in the distance.
Unable to keep her eyes open any longer, the world in front of her went black.
I don’t have a publication date yet, but it’s gonna be soon. I’ll keep you posted.
#BOOKOFTHEYEAR voting has begun…
I am so honored to announce that A PRIDE OF BROTHERS: DYLAN is up for the prestigious BOOK OF THE YEAR award over on Long and Short Reviews.

Because DYLAN was voted book of the month when it was released, it is eligible for BOOK OF THE YEAR, but the public needs to vote for the winner.
Voting begins today and I would be so appreciative if you’ve read the book ( thank you!) if you’d give it a vote! Here’s the link: BOTY
Voting goes from today until January 22 and you can only vote once, so…
And if you haven’t read it yet, you can do so here: UNIVERSAL LINK It’s available at all major online book retailers in print and e-copy.
My everlasting thanks, Peg
January 14, 2024
#musingsonamonday 1.15.2024

So it’s the second week of January and I still haven’t finished my upcoming book, LOVE MATCH (HEAVEN’S MATCHMAKER, book 2).
This is the slowest I’ve ever written and today I started wondering why. You all know I plot my books, so it’s not like I’m sitting here, waiting for inspiration to take over and get my fingers tapping on those keys. I know where the story is going and how it will end.
But for some reason, I just haven’t been able to get there as quickly as I have in the past.
And then, today, it came to me.
PLOT HOLE.
Yup. I’m missing something key in the story and just realized what it is, so HOPEFULLY, now that I know this I can continue writing the rest of the story and then go back in edits and change it up so that the beginning and end match.
Sometimes you gotta ruminate on stuff to see why there’s a problem.
I guess I ruminated enough for this one, LOL.
Be well ~ Peg

Oh, and if you haven’t read book one yet, here ya go: MIX AND MATCH

Divorced and lonely, nurse Jasmine Green retains the services of Heaven, NH’s very own successful matchmaker, Olivia Joyner. The bar scene and dating apps give Jasmine hives and Liv’s reputation is stellar. If anyone can help guide her through the quagmire that dating has become, Olivia can.
Architect Donovan Boyd is ready to settle down. He wants the kind of marriage his parents have; long lasting, filled with love, children, and joy. But even after a year of living and working in Heaven, he’s still considered an outsider by many. Finding the type of woman he’s looking for is hard in the tight-knit community. Retaining Olivia Joyner to help him find his forever love is one of the smartest things he’s done, especially after she sets him up with Jasmine Green.
But the red-haired, green-eyed beauty wants a different kind of marriage from the one Donovan considers ideal.
Can these two strong-willed people learn to compromise so they can both find their happily ever after? Or will their relationship forever be relegated to the friend zone?
January 11, 2024
#fridayfive 1.12.2024

I want to start this year with some good vibes about books – and not just romance books – but all good fiction that I’ve read. S0, today, my top 5 non-fiction books of the last few years.
MIDNIGHT IN THE GARDEN OF GOOD AND EVIL . Shots rang out in Savannah’s grandest mansion in the misty,early morning hours of May 2, 1981. Was it murder or self-defense? For nearly a decade, the shooting and its aftermath reverberated throughout this hauntingly beautiful city of moss-hung oaks and shaded squares. John Berendt’s sharply observed, suspenseful, and witty narrative reads like a thoroughly engrossing novel, and yet it is a work of nonfiction. Berendt skillfully interweaves a hugely entertaining first-person account of life in this isolated remnant of the Old South with the unpredictable twists and turns of a landmark murder case. It is a spellbinding story peopled by a gallery of remarkable characters: the well-bred society ladies of the Married Woman’s Card Club; the turbulent young redneck gigolo; the hapless recluse who owns a bottle of poison so powerful it could kill every man, woman, and child in Savannah; the aging and profane Southern belle who is the “soul of pampered self-absorption”; the uproariously funny black drag queen; the acerbic and arrogant antiques dealer; the sweet-talking, piano-playing con artist; young blacks dancing the minuet at the black debutante ball; and Minerva, the voodoo priestess who works her magic in the graveyard at midnight. These and other Savannahians act as a Greek chorus, with Berendt revealing the alliances, hostilities, and intrigues that thrive in a town where everyone knows everyone else. UNDER THE BANNER OF HEAVEN . Defying both civil authorities and the Mormon establishment in Salt Lake City, the renegade leaders of these Taliban-like theocracies are zealots who answer only to God; some 40,000 people still practice polygamy in these communities. At the core of Krakauer’s book are brothers Ron and Dan Lafferty, who insist they received a commandment from God to kill a blameless woman and her baby girl. Beginning with a meticulously researched account of this appalling double murder, Krakauer constructs a multi-layered, bone-chilling narrative of messianic delusion, polygamy, savage violence, and unyielding faith. Along the way he uncovers a shadowy offshoot of America’s fastest growing religion, and raises provocative questions about the nature of religious belief. BE USEFUL . The seven rules to follow to realize your true purpose in life—distilled by Arnold Schwarzenegger from his own journey of ceaseless reinvention and extraordinary achievement, and available for absolutely anyone.The world’s greatest bodybuilder. The world’s highest-paid movie star. The leader of the world’s sixth-largest economy. That these are the same person sounds like the setup to a joke, but this is no joke. This is Arnold Schwarzenegger. And this did not happen by accident.
Arnold’s stratospheric success happened as part of a process. As the result of clear vision, big thinking, hard work, direct communication, resilient problem-solving, open-minded curiosity, and a commitment to giving back. All of it guided by the one lesson Arnold’s father hammered into him above all: be useful. As Arnold conquered every realm he entered, he kept his father’s adage close to his heart.
Written with his uniquely earnest, blunt, powerful voice, Be Useful takes readers on an inspirational tour through Arnold’s tool kit for a meaningful life. He shows us how to put those tools to work, in service of whatever fulfilling future we can dream up for ourselves. He brings his insights to vivid life with compelling personal stories, life-changing successes and life-threatening failures alike—some of them famous; some told here for the first time ever.
Too many of us struggle to disconnect from our self-pity and connect to our purpose. At an early age, Arnold forged the mental tools to build the ladder out of the poverty and narrow-mindedness of his rural Austrian hometown, tools he used to add rung after rung from there. Now he shares that wisdom with all of us. As he puts it, no one is going to come rescue you—you only have yourself. The good news, it turns out, is that you are all you need. THE VANDERBILTS When eleven-year-old Cornelius Vanderbilt began to work on his father’s small boat ferrying supplies in New York Harbor at the beginning of the nineteenth century, no one could have imagined that one day he would, through ruthlessness, cunning, and a pathological desire for money, build two empires—one in shipping and another in railroads—that would make him the richest man in America. His staggering fortune was fought over by his heirs after his death in 1877, sowing familial discord that would never fully heal. Though his son Billy doubled the money left by “the Commodore,” subsequent generations competed to find new and ever more extraordinary ways of spending it. By 2018, when the last Vanderbilt was forced out of The Breakers—the seventy-room summer estate in Newport, Rhode Island, that Cornelius’s grandson and namesake had built—the family would have been unrecognizable to the tycoon who started it all. Now, the Commodore’s great-great-great-grandson Anderson Cooper, joins with historian Katherine Howe to explore the story of his legendary family and their outsized influence. Cooper and Howe breathe life into the ancestors who built the family’s empire, basked in the Commodore’s wealth, hosted lavish galas, and became synonymous with unfettered American capitalism and high society. Moving from the hardscrabble wharves of old Manhattan to the lavish drawing rooms of Gilded Age Fifth Avenue, from the ornate summer palaces of Newport to the courts of Europe, and all the way to modern-day New York, Cooper and Howe wryly recount the triumphs and tragedies of an American dynasty unlike any other. Written with a unique insider’s viewpoint, this is a rollicking, quintessentially American history as remarkable as the family it so vividly captures. I’M GLAD MY MOM DIED . A heartbreaking and hilarious memoir by iCarly and Sam & Cat star Jennette McCurdy about her struggles as a former child actor—including eating disorders, addiction, and a complicated relationship with her overbearing mother—and how she retook control of her life.
Jennette McCurdy was six years old when she had her first acting audition. Her mother’s dream was for her only daughter to become a star, and Jennette would do anything to make her mother happy. So she went along with what Mom called “calorie restriction,” eating little and weighing herself five times a day. She endured extensive at-home makeovers while Mom chided, “Your eyelashes are invisible, okay? You think Dakota Fanning doesn’t tint hers?” She was even showered by Mom until age sixteen while sharing her diaries, email, and all her income.
In I’m Glad My Mom Died, Jennette recounts all this in unflinching detail—just as she chronicles what happens when the dream finally comes true. Cast in a new Nickelodeon series called iCarly, she is thrust into fame. Though Mom is ecstatic, emailing fan club moderators and getting on a first-name basis with the paparazzi (“Hi Gale!”), Jennette is riddled with anxiety, shame, and self-loathing, which manifest into eating disorders, addiction, and a series of unhealthy relationships. These issues only get worse when, soon after taking the lead in the iCarly spinoff Sam & Cat alongside Ariana Grande, her mother dies of cancer. Finally, after discovering therapy and quitting acting, Jennette embarks on recovery and decides for the first time in her life what she really wants.
Told with refreshing candor and dark humor, I’m Glad My Mom Died is an inspiring story of resilience, independence, and the joy of shampooing your own hair.