Jean C. Joachim's Blog: Stories of Love and Passion, page 17

GRIFF MONTGOMERY - 20 QUESTION QUIZ

Griff Montgomery, Quarterback of the Connecticut Kings, takes the 20 question quiz!


GRIFF MONTGOMERY, QUARTERBACK20 QUESTION QUIZ     1.  Chocolate or vanilla? Chocolate, or course. 
   2.     Airplane or train?      Train, I take too many planes.
   3.     Walking or driving?  Driving.
   4.     Red or Blue?              Blue, a boy color.
   5.     Country or Rock?     Rock.
   6.     Dog or cat?                 Dog. Pug to be exact. 
   7.     Lemonade or Iced Tea?  Girly drinks. Beer for me.
   8.     Vodka or Whiskey?    Whiskey. Man's drink.
   9.     Mounds or Almond Joy? What are those? Are they dirty?
           Uh, if it's body parts, mounds, for sure. *laughs*
   10.   Action movies or Thrillers? Action.
   11.   Men – brunette or blond?    Brunette, like me.
   12.   Women – brunette, blonde or redhead? Lauren's a brunette.
   13.    Steak or lobster?  Steak - man food.
   14.    French fries or Salad? Are you kidding me? Fries, definitely.
   15.    Pistachios or Peanuts?  Peanuts.
   16.    Beer or Wine? Beer, of course.
   17.    Beach or Mountains? Both.
   18.    Oatmeal or scrambled eggs? Eggs. Oatmeal is for pussies.
   19.    Sausage or Bacon? Both.
   20.    Pretty or Witty? Both - that's Lauren. Sexy, too. *laughs*.

    A bit about the book:          Two people, two tragedies, two deep, devastating secrets….  Griff Montgomery is the headline-making, heart-breaking star quarterback of the Kings – a  6’4”, 33 year old womanizer. Lauren Farraday is a beautiful young interior designer, bitterly scarred by divorce, whose life is falling apart. Though they violently oppose one another in court over her beloved pug (she thinks he’s arrogant and  conceited, and he thinks she’s a bitch on wheels), something happens....    These are the bare bones of this sizzling romance, riddled with passion -- the first in a brand new series that’ll tantalize football fans and have readers glued to every page and on the edge of their seats!    Griff looks like a super hero with his tousled, mahogany hair, dazzling smile, dark, sexy eyes, and a body  that does something indescribable to a tight pair of jeans. Though Lauren’s sworn off men forever, one look sends shivers down her spine, making her feel lonelier than ever before. Her lustrous, long hair, sparkling green eyes, and nonstop curves make his fingers tingle at the thought of touching her.     How do they deal with their cataclysmic attraction? Will they be able to drop their protective facades – his to camouflage his grief over his sister and her family, for whom he was a surrogate father, moving 3000 miles away…. And hers’ to shield her from the incalculable loss of her husband and hoped for child?
For Griff, the thought of falling in love is as foreign as toe shoes and a tutu. For Lauren, it’s like putting on cleats and a helmet and running 50 yards…. Can they, will they, risk it? 
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M.S. SPENCER JOINS ME WITH MAI TAIS AND MAYHEM -- NEW BOOK!

Welcome, Meredith! Thanks for having me, Jean. Today I’d like to talk about my latest release, Mai Tais and Mayhem: Murder at Mote Marine.
Mai Tais and MayhemI Heart Publishing, 12/7/2015Contemporary romantic suspense, M/F, 2 flames, MysteryeBook 68,840 words; print 208 pp.
A bit about the book: When Tessa Diamond rescued a baby pufferfish from a hungry gull, her good deed led her into a shady world of smuggling, Russian gangsters, and coded messages, confronting murder, attempted ravishment, parrots, sea turtles and big fish, only to encounter blossoming romances at every turn, including one of her own.
Tessa Diamond, the heroine of Mai Tais and Mayhem: Murder at Mote Marine, works with the annual sea turtle nesting survey along with a motley assortment of volunteers. There are in fact several volunteer groups that patrol the 770 miles of coastline during the nesting season. Five of the seven sea turtle species live in Florida waters: the loggerhead, the leatherback, the green, the Kemp’s ridley, and the hawksbill. This year Mote Marine logged a record number of nests on Longboat Key.
Tessa is checking on a leatherback named Fred who is being rehabilitated at Mote, when she makes a grisly discovery.

 Excerpt (G): The Body
The alarm woke her at seven. Tessa threw on the Mote polo shirt and black golf skort she’d laid out the night before, grabbed the bagel and can of V8 she’d left on the counter, and shot down Gulf of Mexico Drive as the sun came up. The road for once was deserted, and she could revel in the breeze blowing her long hair over her shoulders and the scent of frangipani in the air. The soft gray sky held only a hint of the deep blue to come later, and the gulf lay becalmed by the evaporating night. She sang a country song as she drove. In her bones she knew this would be a glorious day, the first in a long time where she felt free of any guilt or sadness. If only she could whistle. If only I could carry a tune.She parked in the aquarium lot and walked across to the Goldstein Center. Pulling out the key Pilchard had given her, she let herself in by the ticket booth. Pale, blurry light seeped in through the plastic sheeted tanks to her right. She went up the stairs and around the gift shop to the dolphin pool, rattling doors as she went. All was quiet and locked. A snort came from the pool. One of the dolphins raised his head and peered at her before diving back down.Looks okay here. She checked her watch. Eight-twenty. The support staff should be arriving soon to open the gift shop and ticket counter. She walked back down the stairs. The turtle tanks lay to her right—two large shallow pools that at present held four sea turtles, one leatherback—Fred—two green turtles, and a loggerhead. She leaned over Fred’s tank. “Fred,” she called, “how are you? Feeling better?”A black mass floated at the other end of the pool. Oh dear, I hope he’s not still sick. Worried, she skirted the other tank and ducked under the gate. The mass didn’t move. “Fred?” She reached out a hand to touch his shell and instead encountered something soft and mushy. “Fred?”At that moment the overhead light flashed on. She swung around. From the hall came the voice of Henry Stillwater, the coordinator of the dolphin training program. “Who’s there?”“It’s Tessa. Tessa Diamond. I’m the volunteer. I was checking on Fred, but something’s wrong.”“What?”Tessa turned around to look into the pool again and screamed.

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Meet My Friend, M.S. Spencer & Her Book, DEAR PHILOMENA

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Dear Philomena: Love, Lust & Murder on Chincoteague IslandI Heart Book Publishing, October 12, 2015eBook, 72,000 words, Print 209 pp
Contemporary Romantic Suspense/Murder MysteryM/F, 3 flamesMy family has been going to Chincoteague and Assateague Islands since my children were little, often twice, in the spring for the mating birds, and in the fall for the migrating snow geese. A barrier island situated east of coastal Virginia, it has everything: a lovely beach, a wonderful wildlife refuge, ponies, marshes, a lighthouse, and most alluring of all, oysters.  Dagne, like me, scarfs them up at every opportunity during her year on the island. Luckily, her new beau, Refuge Manager Aidan Ellis, is happy to treat her to them.
 A bit about the book: Dagne Lonegan, aka Dear Philomena, advice columnist, hoped that spending a year on the Eastern Shore island of  Chincoteague would extinguish any feelings she had left for Jack Andrews, erstwhile lover and long-time jerk.  It’s just her luck that in her first week on the island she’s entangled in a murder.  Only she doesn’t know it.  Unfortunately, the murderer doesn’t know she doesn’t know.  Strange and dangerous things begin happening to her, disrupting her new romance with Aidan Ellis, the handsome manager of the National Wildlife Refuge.  As if that weren’t enough, Jack arrives to take charge of the murder investigation.

Will Dagne stick with the tall, cool glass of a Ranger or risk falling back into the arms of the man who broke her heart?
EXCERPT Excerpt (G): A Tall, Cool Ranger
As she leapt out of bed, someone knocked at the front door. She checked the clock. Eight. A bit early. Maybe it was the milkman. She clucked at her little joke, but took a moment to smooth her hair and flip off her fuzzy slippers. Halfway down the stairs, she peered through the glass door to see a tall, broad-shouldered silhouette. Someone new? And handsome too! Panting only slightly, she tripped on the last step and almost fell flat. Sucking in a couple of ragged breaths, she called, “Who is it?”“Miss Lonegan? It’s Aidan Ellis. I’m the Chincoteague Refuge Manager. I apologize for the early hour, but I’d like to ask you a couple of questions.”Questions? Dagne zipped into the kitchen and turned the burner off before opening the door. A tall, remarkably good-looking man in the tan uniform of the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service stood on the mat. His dark brown eyes flecked with cream reminded her of the Sika elk that roamed Assateague. The flat-rimmed ranger hat obscured his hair but his tanned face sported a bit of five o’clock shadow, which only served to highlight the straight Roman nose. He smiled a dazzling smile, and stuck his hand out. “Miss Lonegan?”“Yes?”“May I come in?” Dagne realized she was still holding his hand and gazing hungrily into those chocolate eyes. She shook her head to clear it.“Of course, of course.” She led the way into the living room and indicated one of the easy chairs patterned in blue ponies. She sat down on the sleep sofa, only to spring up to clear the coffee table of half-filled take-out boxes and bits of underwear, her face burning. The ranger sat quietly, hat in hand, while she bustled about trying not to stare at his large, strong hands. A full head of rich brown hair too—is there anything that isn’t gorgeous about him?“Sorry. I’ve just moved in and I haven’t had time to organize, or even grocery shop.” ***“Miss Lonegan, as I mentioned, I supervise the wildlife refuge. I don’t know whether you’ve heard, but there’s been a murder.”Dagne took a moment to pull her jaw back up and her eyes back in. “A what?”“A murder. We found the body Saturday morning. On the refuge.”“No, I had no idea. I haven’t talked to anyone yet today.” Wait a minute. When was I trapped on the Woodland Trail? “Saturday? The day before yesterday?”“Yes.” *** He stood. “Here’s my card. Since we found the body on federal property I’ll be in charge of the investigation. If you think of anything else that might be of interest don’t hesitate to give me a call. For example, if you saw or heard anything unusual.”It was on the tip of her tongue to make a flirtatious reply, but she bit it instead. Talk about inappropriate timing! But he was so gorgeous, so polite, so different from Jack. Maybe, just maybe….
 Buy Links:Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Dear-Philomena-Murder-Chincoteague-Island-ebook/dp/B016HDQDCM
Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/dear-philomena-ms-spencer/1122797778Createspace: https://www.createspace.com/5795202Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/584372All Romance E Books: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-dearphilomenalovelustmurderonchincoteagueisland-1905181-149.html

TUESDAY TALES = WORD PROMPT "EVIL"

Welcome! This week the word prompt is "evil". Trunk Mahoney's story continues. Thanks for stopping by. Return to the fabulous Tuesday Tales authors using the link below.  
************
“Didn’t she say anything else? Like why she was leaving or where she was going?”He shook his head. “Nope. That was it. In a text.”“A text?” Carla's eyebrows rose. “Damn, that’s cold.”“I think she’s afraid to face me. Though I don’t know why.”“You’ve got to track her down. Gotta get some answers.”“You’re telling me?” He shook his head.Carla slipped back into the kitchen and returned with a large blue cheese burger and an order of sweet potato fries.
“This is on the house, Trunk.”“No way.”“Way.”“You can’t afford to do that. You just gave those two assholes free beer to leave me alone. And now this? You keep giving food away and you’ll be out of business. I’m paying.”“We’re friends.” He shot her a longing look, before masking his expression. Her statement cut him deep. He had wished he could be so much more than friends with this beauty, wished he’d met her before he got hooked up with the evil Mary. It would never happen now. Trunk had a secret, a secret that would keep her away. He’d guessed it might be what finally drove Mary to leave him. “Business is business, Carla. You can’t afford to give food away. And I don’t want to be the cause of your closing down.”“Screw you. I’ll charge you double, then. For everyone else, $6.95, for you, fourteen bucks!”Trunk laughed. He didn’t think anything could be funny today, but Carla was and he was grateful. He bit into the juicy burger, cooked just the way he liked, and smiled. No one made food like she did. “Where you gonna live?” She asked, finishing the last of her drink.“Good question. I have no idea.”“I have a ‘sleep-it-off-room’ upstairs, down the hall from my digs, if you need it.”“Thanks. I’m bunking in with Bull and Samantha tonight.”“Barging in on the newlyweds?”“When you put it like that, maybe I shouldn’t go there. But one night won’t kill ‘em.”“Nah. Bull can keep it in his pants for once.”“Or keep it quiet,” Trunk snickered. She laughed. He finished the burger and washed it down with a healthy slug of beer. “Hey, how about this? I could rent that room from you. Just until I get a new place. Give you some more income.”“You think I need the money?” She narrowed her eyes, rested her hand on her hip.“Everybody needs more money.”“True. I could do that. How much?”“Hmm. Five hundred do it?”She swallowed and her eyes widened. “Five hundred does it just fine. I’ll take you up there after closing.”“I’ll tell Bull I’m not coming.” “There’s a bathroom across the hall, too. No kitchen, but you can use the bar kitchen.”“Works for me.” He finished the last of his beverage, stuffed two more fries into his mouth and slid off the seat. He dropped a twenty on the counter and headed for his car.

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TUESDAY TALES - PICTURE PROMPT - TRUNK'S STORY CONTINUES

Welcome! This week we had a choice of two picture prompts. I chose this one for the continuation of Trunk's story. We are limited to only 300 words with a picture prompt, making it a challenge. 
Please don't forget to visit the talented Tuesday Tales authors. Scroll down for the link back.

***************    Trunk sat at a table in The Savage Beast cradling a beer and staring at the fire in the fireplace. If he hadn’t been sitting alone in a bar, it might have been a romantic setting. He narrowed his eyes and imagined a glass of wine joining his own, an ottoman, a loveseat and a willing woman.   Willing woman. Someone he hadn’t encountered in a long time, despite being married. Mary had retreated from their sex life some time ago.  Trunk missed it and romance, too. Gone were the dinners holding hands at The Sweet Magnolia. Mary had her life and he had his. He did have a life, didn’t he?    He sat back, ignoring that unanswered question and letting his imagination loose. As the sweet scent of the burning wood met his nostrils, he raised his hand. Carla, the barkeep ambled over.   “Red wine, please?”   “Sure.” She returned and set it down in front of him.Trunk stretched his legs toward the fire, letting the heat warm the soles of his shoes as he took a sip of the dark red liquid.  He folded his arms across his impressive chest and tried to conjure up the image of a woman to complete the scene. His mind thumbed through the myriad images of strippers from the clubs he’d frequented when on the road. He could remember bodies, but the faces were a blur. A voice interrupted his reverie.   “Will that be all, Al?”    He looked up into Carla’s beautiful, dark eyes. She was the only one who called him by his given name.    “Yeah. Thanks.”   She put a check down on the table. Trunk gazed into the fire as an image of the dream willing woman came into sharp focus --gorgeous Carla Ricci, proprietor of The Savage Beast.  

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Thoughts on Thanksgiving

   Thanksgiving is a holiday that makes me pensive. I'm fortunate this year, as I was last, to be in a happy place with a  healthy family all doing well and making their way in the world.  
   As I walk the streets of Manhattan on the various errands necessary to complete our dinner plans, I come across evidence that not everyone is in the same place I am. 
   I pass empty stores, the wine shop where the people were so friendly, my favorite shoe store --both closed. 
   A fancy gluten-free Italian food place replaced our beloved deli, run by immigrants who had, over the 30 years they were there, become our friends. 
   We had watched their kids grow up and they watched ours. No trip home from college was complete for Stevie unless he stopped in the deli. They were glad to see him. They are gone. My security blanket if I need anything on Thanksgiving day left with them. 
    There are a few homeless people, asking for money. People who live in buildings next door, are there through the generosity of The Coalition for the Homeless. What are these people planning for tomorrow? Will they be dining at a beautiful table with loving family or friends? 
   The sights I see make me depressed, melancholy. I feel the sadness of in the air around me. Some people don't have much to be thankful for except for the fact that they are alive. 
   Then there are some small shops doing a thriving business, bustling with people --the little flower shop, the small grocery store, and others. There is good cheer there. 
   One thing I hate in life, change, is inevitable. I hang on to a small piece of sameness every year by recreating the Thanksgivings we've always had. We're a small crowd, just five this year. And that suits me fine. Less work and more food.
   Outside our door, on the day before, hordes of people pass, eager to stand in an interminable line of hundreds of kindred spirits, to see the balloons being blown up for the parade. We are on the very block where that begins. It's insanity here for 24 hours. 
   Twenty years ago, no one knew about it. We'd take the kids over to watch Spiderman being inflated. It was our secret. It was an Upper West Side "thing". Now it belongs to the masses. 
   As I head toward home, I do stop to wonder about others less fortunate and what the holiday means to them. 
  I know that someday our holiday will change. Things will continue to be different in my neighborhood every year. I may not like it, but I accept it. Eventually we'll be traveling to our kids' homes for Thanksgiving, when we get to old to host it. 
   But for now, it's one thing on the Upper West Side of Manhattan that isn't changing. And I'm thankful for that. 

  

TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT "NASTY" - TRUNK MAHONEY'S - Pt. 2

Welcome! This week, the story comes from Al "Trunk" Mahoney, Defensive Lineman, book 6 in the First & Ten series. The prompt is "nasty."  Don't forget to return to the TT blog and read the stories from the gift writers there. Scroll down for link.


************ 
The team was warming up in the workout room before practice when they heard a commotion. Cursing, hollering and the banging of metal, the breaking of glass, stopped all activity.

“Who’s in the locker room?” Griff Montgomery asked.“Trunk,” Bullhorn Brodsky responded. “Shit!”Griff and Bull rushed into the room, followed by several teammates. There was Al “Trunk” Mahoney, trashing the locker room. He’d already busted his own locker, now he was starting on an empty one. He’d thrown a chair through the window and busted a mirror with his fist, which was bleeding from a nasty cut.
“Holy shit, Trunk!” Griff said.“What the hell?” Bull asked.“It’s Mary!”Trunk yelled, closing his injured fist, making ready to take another swing at the locker. Tuffer Demson, another defensive linebacker, lunged at Trunk. Demson and Bull tried to subdue the big man. The linebacker fought hard, but the others pinned Al’s arms to his sides. His eyes watered. In a moment he was sobbing. His teammates let him go and he sank to his knees. He picked up a busted cell phone. “It’s Mary,” he choked out. “She’s leaving me. In a text.”Silence clothed the room. The men glanced at each other, then stared at Trunk. Pete Sebastian, known as Coach Bass to the team, ran in. He stopped short at the sight. The destruction made him gasp. “I’m sorry, Coach,” Trunk muttered.
“Come on, Trunk. Get him up, guys. Bring him to my office,” Coach instructed. “Break it up. Show’s over. We have a game to get ready for.”Devon Drake and Bull eased the wounded linebacker to his feet. They followed him to Coach’s office, then left and closed the door. Coach was on the phone with security. Jo stuck her head in, but Coach waved her away. Trunk sank down onto a chair like a deflated balloon. “Almost four years of marriage. Down the toilet,” he sighed, wiping his eyes.Coach handed him a handkerchief. “Want to talk about it?”­
************
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MEET BULLHORN BRODSKY! ENTER TO WIN A GIFT CARD.

Meet the Kings' sexy offensive lineman, Sly "Bullhorn" Brodsky, known as "Bull' to his friends. Leave a comment and your email address & be eligible to win an a $10 Amazon Gift Card. Drawing will be held on Sunday night.

Here's his 20 questions quiz:
BULLHORN BRODSKY TAKES THE 20 QUESTION QUIZ   Chocolate or vanilla? Strawberry. I like to be different. 
.   Airplane or train? Airplane. I hate to waste time.
.   Walking or driving?  Running.
.   Red or Blue?  Green. I like to be different, remember?
.   Country or Rock? Country.
 Dog or cat? Dogs. Big ones. Retrievers. 
.   Lemonade or Iced Tea?  Girl stuff.  Beer or Scotch.
   Vodka or Whiskey? Vodka. Straight.
.   Mounds or Almond Joy? Whose mounds? Samantha’s? All right!
   Action movies or Thrillers? Action all the way.
  Men – brunette or blond? Neither. I don’t swing that way.
  Women – brunette, blonde or redhead? Brunette, like Sam.
  Steak or lobster?  Both. Bring it on, I’m hungry!
  French fries or Salad? Is this a trick question? Fries, of course.
  Pistachios or Peanuts?  Mcadamias. Different, remember?
   Beer or Wine? Beer. On tap.
   Beach or Mountains? Beach. Love to swim.
  Oatmeal or scrambled eggs? Eggs. Oatmeal? Mushy. Ugh.
   Sausage or Bacon? Both, with those scrambled eggs.
   Pretty or Witty? Smart & pretty, like Samantha. Sexy, too.



  A bit about the book: ­Sly “Bullhorn” Brodsky wished winning the heart of Samantha Drake was as easy as protecting his quarterback.

 A top offensive lineman in the NFL, Bull tried to live down his rep as a womanizer. Locker room chatter had elevated him to the level of “player” in more than football. But Samantha Drake, dark-haired, stunning sister of a teammate, didn’t want to have anything to do with him. Or did she? On his best behavior, Bull pulled out all the stops to woo the reluctant beauty. He was making progress until a woman from his past reappeared. Tiffany, the one woman who broke his heart, is in trouble. Is Bull the only man who can help?Samantha is overcoming her doubts about Bull until Tiffany arrives. Is the blonde really in hot water or does she just want another chance with the man she discarded? Enjoy the return of your favorite First & Ten characters in this book, too. Surprises, twists, and football action scenes will keep you turning the pages. 
********** Samantha Drake was quality. No slut, no easy chick, no woman to toy with. She was of the “bring ’em home to mom” variety. He was lucky to have her attention. How many bruisers like him ended up with classy women? None he knew of.Maybe Bullhorn Brodsky, whose booming voice could be heard in the next county, and who could bring a three-hundred-pounder to his knees, had a shot at a relationship with this exceptional woman. Don’t blow it, Sly, he’d told himself a thousand times.
**********“We don’t have to do this. I can take you home if you don’t want to be with me. I understand. Devon’s done a number on me with you. I get it. No hard feelings.”He put on his turn signal and backed up, getting ready to make a U-turn when she put her hand on his arm.“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”“Do you want to be with me or not?” His eyes were hard. “Because I’m done fooling around with this bullshit.”“Do you want to be with me?” A deep breath didn’t keep her voice from shaking.“Of course. I thought I made that damn clear. How many different ways do I have to say it, show it?” He put the car in park.
Find the book here:
AMAZON AMAZON U.K. AMAZON CANADA BARNES & NOBLE ITUNES/APPLE KOBO
FIRST & TEN, THE SERIES

With all the terrible things happening on in France and a...

With all the terrible things happening on in France and around the world right now,  I thought it would be healing to remember the men who are our heroes, many in small, but unforgettable ways. 
So I'm reposting my blog on everyday heroes. I hope it gives you a smile and a memory of an encounter with an everyday hero in your life.  EVERYDAY HEROES Although we sometimes berate men for not communicating more, most men share their love by doing, not talking. Today I honor those men, the ones who help for the sake of helping...the men who do small unselfish acts everyday. 

Today is your day guys as I dedicate this blog to my everyday heroes, men I know and don't know who have touched my life in positive ways...you know who you are:
1) To the two gentlemen who stopped, briefly, to pick me up, one guy on each arm, when I slipped and fell at the bottom of the wet subway stairs on a rainy day.
2) To the man who stopped in the parking lot of Peck's grocery store in Narrowsburg. The second I put my hands under the hood of my car, he was there, asking me what was wrong and if I needed help. Then he proceeded to show me where to put in the wiper fluid, unscrewed the cap to the little tank and left before I even made eye contact!
3)  To all the men on the streets of New York who have stopped to pick up whatever I dropped before I even bent my knees. Klutz that I am, that number is huge.4)  To my friend in the community who came down to the lake because I told him I was going there to swim by myself and he felt it was unsafe.
5)  To all the men on airplanes who, when seeing me with a large carry-on bag, stood up and put it in the overhead rack for me without even being asked. And also, to those who took it down when we landed.
6)  To the thousands upon thousands of men who have held doors open for me, allowing me to pass through first.
7)  To the two young men on line in the grocery store who offered their frequent buyer cards to me so I could get the discounts, too. 
8)  To the man who took the dead mouse out of my mousetrap and disposed of it for me. Yucky! And to the second man who did that, too.
9)  To all the young men in high school and college who politely took "no" for an answer and either still continued to date me or became my friend.
10) To all the men who got up to give me a seat on the bus or subway when I was pregnant.

11) To the men I met on countless vacations who danced with me, bought me a drink at the bar and didn't hit on me.
12) To the man who came to the emergency room with me on a first date, waited forever and held my hand while I got a tetanus shot. 
13) To my friend in West Africa who unselfishly shares his wealth of knowledge about international book marketing and encourages and supports me at every turn. Thanks, Mark, for helping me get published in China -- in Chinese!
14) To the man who took two hours out of his day to show me how to do my website for the price of a bagel.15) To the two men who designed book covers for me just because they are my friends.
16) To the man who walked me home after dark when I ducked into a bar because someone was following me...and took "no" for an answer with charm and grace. 
17) To the man who drove me through a blinding snowstorm and back so I could bring a stray cat with an infected paw to the vet.
18) To Doug, our guest, who surprised me with a Tiramisu cake just because I had admired it in the bakery window. 
19) To the man who jumped into a Facebook group to defend me when several people attacked my opinion.
20) To all the chivalrous men who let me go first...from the checkout counter at the grocery store to the bread counter at Zabar's. 
21) To the unknown young man who gave me a lift 60 blocks up Madison Avenue to Mt. Sinai Hospital when the subway wasn't running and my father was in surgery.
22) To my two sons who travel to visit me, listen to me, laugh with me, and always end a phone conversation with "love you".
23) To DH who sometimes fixes things before I ask.

To all you everyday heroes, thank you. Thank you for all you've done and continue to do quietly without fanfare...and for the shy smile you give me when I acknowledge your help. Love you all!

Who are the everyday heroes in your life?To find out about my books, visit my  WEBSITE

TUESDAY TALES - TRUNK MAHONEY'S STORY

Due to the Tuesday Tales rules, I can't continue to share Bull's story with you because, I'm happy to say, his book has been published!! Only unpublished stories are allowed in Tuesday Tales.

I share with you a section from the next book in the First & Ten series, which is still being written. It's about the quarterback's wife, Lauren Montgomery. Her husband is playing a game in another city when she goes into labor. The one person available to ride through this terrifying experience with her is her husband's father, Hank. Only problem is that Hank wasn't very nice to her when he first met her. So she has been stand-offish, not trusting him. But what can she do now? She needs help and he's the only one around.


Monroe County Hospital, three o’clock
Hank was in the visitors lounge on the phone. “She’s been up and at it for twelve hours. I don’t know how much more she can take.”“Stay with her. The doctors’ll know what to do.”“How’s Chip?”“Awful. We had a hard day. He cried for his mom and was whiny for two hours. I thought I’d lose my mind. I took him outside, then we had lunch, then a nap. He was fine in the afternoon. We watched TV and had dinner. He’s asleep now. I’m pooped.”“Lie down and rest.”“You should get back to Lauren. She’s like a frightened doe.”
"Don’t worry. I won’t leave her. I’ll give you a progress report when I have more news.”“You must be tired.”“After eight cups of coffee, I don’t feel a thing,” he chuckled.“Good job.”“Love you, Verna.”“Back at ya.”Hank shut off his phone and returned to the birthing room. Lauren was sweaty and tearful. She appeared to be exhausted. “We’ll begin pushing soon. As soon as she’s fully dilated. Won’t be long now,” the nurse said. “Good thing, too. She’s worn out. I hope she has the strength.”“Women are a lot tougher than you think,” the woman chuckled. “I don’t doubt that one bit.”The nurse handed him a fresh cup of ice chips. He eased into the chair beside Lauren. She stared at him with hostile eyes. “Hey, I’m not the guy who got you into this,” he said, raising one hand. “Got some fresh ice chips.”
Lauren took one. “If I never see another ice chip, it'll be too soon,” she mumbled.Hank took her hand. “I think you’re the bravest woman on Earth.”“Don’t bullshit me, Hank,” she shot back, removing her hand.“I mean it. Going through this without Griff. You’re something else, lady.”She looked into his eyes, then she took his hand. “I’m scared,” she whispered, her eyes watered. “What?” He leaned closer.“Scared. Scared silly. Scared shitless. Terrified.”     "I get it. You're not alone. I'm not leaving. I'm with you all the way."
     She squeezed his hand.  
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