Jean C. Joachim's Blog: Stories of Love and Passion, page 21

TUESDAY TALES - MAGGIE'S STORY - PROMPT "ATTITUDE"

          Little Penn toddled into the kitchen as Maggie was finishing up the morning dishes.  He tugged on her skirt. She bent down and picked him up. Anne Roberts was on the phone in the living room. Maggie brought him in and dumped out a simple puzzle on the floor. Concentrating was hard when all she could think of was the way she had destroyed any chance of marrying John with her confession that morning.           As soon as the Missus was off the phone, Maggie cleared her throat, her pulse beat in her ear.           “I thought John’d be back by now?”           “He asked for some personal time. I don’t expect him back until after dinner.”
           Sadness clouded Maggie’s heart and tears stung. Penn looked up and handed her a piece of the puzzle. She cupped his chin, smiled and placed it in the wooden frame.          “He’s getting awfully good at that, isn’t he?” remarked Anne.          “He’ll be ready for preschool before they’re ready for him.”          The women laughed. “He’s a bit of a wild boy, though,” Anne admitted.          “Not wild, exactly. Just curious, and a bit lively, I’d say.”          “Right, Maggie. I’ve got to keep a positive attitude.”          “Certainly is sweet and loving,” Maggie said.          With the puzzle finished, the boy made his way to his mother and raised his arms. She picked him up and kissed him several times, making him giggle.            Now I’ll never have one of those.          Maggie checked her watch every half hour, then every ten minutes. After the dinner dishes, she sat down with a plate, but simply pushed the food around. Within ten minutes, John burst through the archway. Maggie turned a jaundiced eye to him.“Bout time,” she muttered. His face was flushed and his eyes bright. A small smile played with his lips. “Guess you had a great day on the town, eh?”  She asked.“Might say.”“Goodnight,” she said, pushing to her feet.John grabbed her arm. “Not so fast, young lady.”She cocked an eyebrow at him. “Sit down. I believe our conversation from this morning wasn’t finished.”“It was as far as I’m concerned.” She attempted to rise again, but John’s large hand on her shoulder stopped her.“Close your eyes.”“What for?”“Close ‘em. You won’t regret it.”She did as he told her with a sigh. “Okay. Open,” John said.He knelt before her, with a tiny, velvet box in his hand. “Please marry me, Maggie.”He flipped open the box. Inside was a ring with a small diamond on it. “What?”“You heard me.”“Where’d you get this?” She took the ring and looked it over carefully.“It’s real, if that’s what you’re wondering. Knee’s getting’ sore down here, missy. Well?”“Already said yes, once, didn’t I?”John laughed and shook his head. “I’ve got the prettiest girl with the biggest attitude.”“This where you were today?”“Yes. And I found a lovely little bed and breakfast in Greenport at the end of Long Island. Made a reservation for this weekend. Mr. Roberts gave us two days off.”“Oh my God.”“Off to City Hall tomorrow to sign the papers.”“Did you tell him?”“Let him be surprised. Nothing’s going to stand in our way, Maggie. Nothing.”Her eyes filled. John took the ring and slid it on her finger. Then he kissed her. ­­“Knew there was a reason I loved you,” she whispered. 

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TUESDAY TALES - PICTURE PROMPT - MAGGIE'S STORY

PICTURE PROMPT THIS WEEK. HERE'S THE PHOTO:

We have more of Maggie's story this week. Thank you for coming.


 * * * * * * * *

Six thirty in the morning, in the kitchen                 Maggie’s hand shook as she set the plate down in front of John.           “You always make the eggs just the way I like them,” John said. “Can you get a few hours off out tomorrow morning?”          “The Missus’ll be taking Penn for a ride in the park. S’pose I could.”          She twisted a napkin in her hands. “Don’t know how you can eat at this hour.”          “Driving Mr. at seven. Teaches one to eat when one can.”           Maggie paced in front of the small table.          “There’s things you don’t know about me.”          “The sooner we get married, the happier I’ll be. Every morning, I’m half expecting to find them standing there when I leave your room. I hate sneaking around.”          He sipped his coffee.           “I need to tell you something.” Her heartbeat jumped.           “Go ahead. But it won’t make any difference.”          “Before I came to the States, I had a boyfriend.”          “So?” He wiped his chin.          “I got pregnant.”          John stopped wiping. Silence hung in the air like a vapor. She glanced at him and looked away.           “Where’s the child?”          “That’s it, you see. Mum forced me to get rid of it. Said she’d put me out. Pa, too. Said they didn’t want no disgrace comin’ down on the family.”          John put down his fork.           “I didn’t want to. I had no choice. I was under age and all. Warn’t nothing I could do. He’d be about little Penn’s age, I imagine.”          John simply stared at her, his face expressionless.          “See? Told you there was stuff you didn’t know. Still time to change your mind.”           Mr. Roberts poked his head in. “Time to go, John."           “Right, sir.” And in a flash, her lover was gone.  BACK TO TUESDAY TALES
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GRIFF MONTGOMERY VS. PETRO SHEVENKO IN THE GREAT BREAKFAST FOOD DEBATE!

THE GREAT BREAKFAST FOOD DEBATE CONTINUES HERE...
(Caution, crude locker room language.)


Griff: "Just wondering why you couldn't tell if the players were men or women. Maybe hockey players don't have dicks? "*laughs* "That's why you can't see 'em. Hey is this pussy, kasha stuff always this color? Where are my eggs?" *Waitress nods.*" That's okay, honey." *winks at waitress*. "Serve the temperamental hockey dickless wonder first."PETRO SHEVENKO
Petro:  "Trust me, footballer, we have dicks. And balls as well. And a Cup to put them in. Yes, it is always that color. Stop whining like mulish child and eat. These eggs are not scrambled, they are fried and loose."*wrinkles nose and prods at eggs with fork*
Griff: "Honey, could you please take that away and bring some scrambled eggs, with ham. And make them hard? Thanks. " *Turns to Petro* "At least something on your side of the table will be hard besides your head." *chuckles*"So you're fully equipped? You put it in a cup? "*bursts into laughter* " Why hide it? We wear cups too, but no one would aim at a guys dick. Guess lowlife hockey players do that. Shoot the puck at his dick, and then get the rebound and score while the guy in on the ground writhing in pain. Not really a sport, is it? Hey, bring me some maple syrup, brown sugar, strawberries and any other berries you have. Have to do some to this pussy food." *Makes a face* "Thanks, honey." *Smiles at the waitress*
Petro:"You would be funny if you were not so stupid. I meant the greatest trophy in the world, Lord Stanley`s Cup. And if you said bad words about The Cup, I will make your face even uglier." *raises fist*
Griff: *Raises palm*"No, no, I never say bad stuff about a trophy. Maybe just the dickless wonders who compete for it."
Petro:"You are not as stupid as you look. "*lowers fist and glances at waitress* "At least they make the coffee right. Your trophy is okay as well."
Griff: "Damn straight it is. And we get rings, too. What about you? *Piles on the maple syrup, berries and adds sugar*. This shit isn't so bad, when you fix it up a little. You think I look stupid? We go to a bar and I'll bet you more women come over to me than you. They love the way I look. Football is sexy, Americans know that."
Petro: "Yes, we too get rings when we win. Big ones with many diamonds." *cuts off some egg* "This is not all that bad. It still tastes like chicken ass. Ha-ha. That is funny! It is known American women love men from other countries. Just listen to my accent and tell me it is not sexiest sounding thing you hear ever." GRIFF MONTGOMERY
Griff: "I've never tasted a chicken's ass." *laughs, takes a spoonful of oatmeal.*" Not so bad. Yeah, they love accents but they love hairy chests and tight abs. I can get laid five times with five different women in one night, if I want to."
Petro:"I have not either, but I think it tastes like egg. True, women love hairy chest and tight abs. Many tell me so when I am bedding one after another. I am like Russian bear. Go from one hot she-bear to another." *takes a small bite of egg*
Griff:"Ha ha! I've never fu—"*Jean shouts from next booth* "GRIFF!!"\"I've never had sex with an animal. It's illegal here. Does your Coach know you're screwing willdlilfe?"
Petro: "HA!"*hits table with hand* "You should see my woman when I am giving her good love. She claws and bites like Russian she-bear in heat. It is because I have huge dick. *someone swats the back of Petro`s head* Ouch!" *looks up*"Oh, hello beloved. Griff, this is my love Margarite. And who is this other pretty lady?"
Griff:*Griff smiles sheepishly as his woman stares hard at him*" This is Lauren, my beautiful woman." She opens her mouth to speak, but he holds up his hand." I haven't said a word about the size of your...oh, uh. Never mind. Nice to meet you, Margarite. Have some eggs."
Petro: *slides over to let Margarite sit beside him*" She does not hear, so you must look at her face when talk. Nice to meet you, Lauren. Your man is having oatmeal and liking it so good. It will make him bear in bed."
Griff:"I'm already a lion in bed, right Lauren? "*Griff picks up plate and offers to Margarite. Lauren blushes* “See, she's speechless. Never had such good loving as she gets from me."*Lauren picks up spoon with oatmeal on it and shoves it in Griff's mouth.*
Petro: *Margarite begins signing* "She says I talk much and say nothing. Wait. No! I say much good today. Ha! Your woman spoon feeds you like big baby!"
Griff:*tries to talk, but his mouth is stuffed.Lauren:"He is a big baby. My big baby. "*Lauren pats his cheek as he chews.* "Have you been good today? Jean is shaking her head. Why is she doing that? *Griff shrugs and blushes*
Petro:"I knew he was big baby. And yes, I have been good. Do not look at me with evil eyes. Ask Vicki. *Margarite turns around to look at Vicki who shakes her head*
Lauren: "What are you eating, Griff? Is that oatmeal?" *Footballer nods.*" What did you put on it?"
Griff: "Maple syrup, brown sugar, fruit butter, and it's still...yucky."
Lauren: *laughs*Petro got you to eat oatmeal? That's a feat. No bacon and eggs?"*Griff wipes chin* "Bring on the real man food. I've had enough of that baby mush. Pussy food."
Lauren:"Did you say pussy?" *stares hard at Griff*
Griff:"Oops. Sorry."*Margarite`s eyebrows rise*
Petro:"He did well considering how he whimpered like toddler before food come. I too have tried the American breakfast. It is not bad. Not as good as Olaf`s kasha, but not bad."*Margarite begins to sign. Petro nods*“She says we are losing time. No. Making time short. No.Short on time! Ha! I am good with the English."
Griff: "Yeah, about as good as your judgment on breakfast food." *laughs*
Petro:" You will laugh out other side of face when that kasha kicks in. Your woman will wonder where mealy little football man went when she finds herself under a wild bear. Ouch! Why do you pinch me? *looks at Margarite who is gesticulating madly* "Ah. She says I am making big talk with no brains. Ha! Wait . . ."
Griff:" I'm already a wild stallion. A lion in the bedroom! If I get any wilder, she'll need a whip to tame me. Hmm. Interesting idea. Or maybe I could try it out on hockey players?"
Petro: "A horse ass perhaps."*Looks down at Margarite tapping his thick arm* "Yes, beloved. We are both horse asses? No, you did not read my lips good."*Margarite throws her hands into the air*
Griff: "I guess she'll do the whipping. Whipping you into shape that is!" *chuckles as Lauren stands up and points to watch.* "Guess that means I have to go. Some of us have winning records to defend. Time for practice."
Petro:"Ballet practice? "*snickers*
Griff:M"y thighs are too muscular for tights. Perhaps you'd like a tutu in blue?"
Petro: "Your thighs are like little girl thighs. Why do you pinch me so?"*Margarite tugs on his arm*
Petro: "Oh, yes, it is time to go. Griff must get his tutu and slippers."
Griff: "So you know about little girl thighs? I only sleep with women, not little girls.*Lauren glares at Griff.*
Petro: "No, you do not get joke. Russian humor is not good in English. I mean you have legs like skinny girl. Now hockey players have real man legs. Yes, stop pulling on me. I know it is time to go. "*Stands and extends hand to Griff*"Spasibo."
Griff: *Shakes hand* "Balls to the wall, Petro."
Petro: "Yes, balls to the wall, Griffin Montgomery. When I think of you, I shall always think of chicken ass."*walks off chuckling with arm draped over Margarite`s shoulder*
Griff: "Mush man."*Laces fingers with Lauren and heads for the parking lot.*
Vicki: *Vicki looks at Jean over cup of decaf* Well that went better than I expected. No blood was shed so that`s always a plus!"
Jean: "Yes, and they ate a good breakfast. No need to call 911 for police, riot squad or ambulance. Not bad." *lets out a breath.*
Vicki: " I bet the next time a Wildcat and King get together it will be over eggs and oatmeal!"*laughs*
Jean: "Maybe. Or perhaps they need to discuss dinner? Footballers love steak. What do hockey players eat?"
Vicki: "Dinner would be great! Maybe Buddy could join Veikko for a night of fine dining out at the Aho mansion. Oh, lots of high quality carbs, lean protein and tons of veggies. And if they have grandmothers named Olaf, porridge made from buckwheat."
Jean: *laughs heartily* "High class Veikko vs. lower-class Buddy would be a lot of fun!"
Vicki: "Sounds like a date!"
 CLICK TO GO TO PART ONE

Thank you for joining us. This idea came from the brilliant mind of Vicki Locey. Thank you, Vicki for inspiring this fun post. 


GET PETRO'S BOOK, LANGUAGE OF LOVE, HERE













GET GRIFF'S BOOK, GRIFF MONTGOMERY, QUARTERBACK, HERE

TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT "TWENTY"

Welcome! This week's prompt is "twenty". I'm continuing Maggie's Story. Don't forget to go back to Tuesday Tales for awesome stories! 
*************Maggie pulled the sheet up to cover her chest, then sat up, resting her elbows on  her knees. John smoothed his palm down her bare back. “What’s to become of us? We can’t carry on in their home. I guess we’ll have to sneak away now and then.”“We’re together every day, Sweetheart.”“Not really. You’re driving, I’m cleaning. You’re running errands, I’m cooking.”“Just like any husband and wife. Then we’ll have evening time together.”“Where? Where will we go? Your room or mine?”John chuckled. Maggie slapped his leg gently.“Stop. You know what I mean. Not for lovin’, just to talk. Watch TV. Like regular folk. We’re not regular folk. We’re servants.”She sighed.
“Maybe, if we shared a bedroom, they’d let us turn the other one into a sitting room?”“Fancy that!” She laughed. “I’m sure they’d find some use for that extra room.”“You don’t know The Roberts long. I’ve been with them for two years. They’re not like that. Besides. If they make it nice for us, we’ll stay.”Maggie turned to face John. “I’m not moving in with you, to live together in sin. Nope.” She shook her head.“Then marry me,” John cupped her cheek.   Maggie’s eyes watered as silence filled the room.“Oh come on. You wouldn’t've spent the night if you didn’t care for me. You’re not one of those easy girls.”John passed a tissue to her and Maggie wiped her eyes. “I’m not. But what if we have a child? Where will we live? We can’t stay there.”“We’ll save our money. And when junior comes along, we’ll have enough to get our own place.”“You want a child?”“With you, Maggie? Delightful. Heavenly.”She grinned. “You’re such a silly man. How could I marry someone so silly?”“How could you not?” Maggie lay back down, snuggling her head into his shoulder. John leaned over and kissed her neck. “Fancy a repeat?” He whispered. She nodded. Later, they toted egg sandwiches and coffee to the beach. It was eight o’clock in the morning. They had the shore to themselves. “How do you want to do it? Tell them or sneak off on our own?” He asked, offering her a sandwich.
“On our own. My mum'd say we don’t have a chance.”“Really?” He cocked an eyebrow. “You don’t know me.”“Are you a serial killer? Bank robber? Con woman?”She shook her head.“Good.”“How long d'you think it'll last?” She asked.“I wasn’t really thinking much beyond the first twenty. But I’d guess a good fifty years or so.”Maggie laughed. “Fifty. That’s all?”“Til death then. That do it?”
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MEET GRIFF MONTGOMERY - 20 QUESTIONS FAST INTERVIEW

Hey, Griff Montgomery, Quarterback, here. I'm being interviewed today. I hate interviews, but Coach Bass says I have to do them, so here I am. I made Sandy Powell, Sports Reporter for the Monroe Journal, promise to do the simplest interview possible. Here it is, world's fastest 20 question interview. Thanks for coming. Hope you've got my book and come to my games.
   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*.
        AMAZON         BARNES & NOBLE      ITUNES/APPLE     SECRET CRAVINGS (ALL  FORMATS)     KOBO     PAPERBACK
He wanted a wife. She didn’t want to get married – ever.  Not exactly a match made in heaven. Ten years ago, Griff Montgomery, star quarterback of the Kings and womanizer, became a stand-in father for his widowed sister’s kids. After they moved away, Griff wanted his own family. But where does a “player” go to find his ideal mate? Having sworn off marriage forever, Lauren Farraday barely kept her life together after her divorce. With her career shaky and depression closing in, the last thing she needed was a courtroom battle with a sexy athlete. Wary of Griff’s reputation with women, and hiding a secret, Lauren holds on to her heart.  Can the quarterback handle the truth or will he walk away, like he has in the past?      

Love comments. Please share your thoughts.
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TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT - SANDWICH

**Welcome! This week we continue with Maggie's story. Don't forget to visit the spectacular writers for Tuesday Tales. Link is at the end of this post. 
*****
    Mr. and Mrs. Roberts jetted off to Puerto Rico for a weekend, leaving Maggie and John in charge of little Penn. A rambunctious two-year-old, he required two to watch him. Maggie found herself falling into the role of parent with ease. John made a fun-loving dad, which surprised her.     As a reward for giving up their weekend, The Roberts gave them both two days off and the use of the car.    “Let’s drive to Montauk. It’s supposed to be beautiful there. Beach, ocean, and lobster. What say, Maggie, my girl? Are you game?”    “Separate rooms?”    "Of course,” he chuckled.     “You’re on.”    John loaded the luggage into the car. She had a  tearful parting with young Penn, who threw a tantrum as she left the house. John had to pull her away gently from the screaming child.     Once they hit the Long Island Expressway, Maggie began to relax. It wasn’t long before there was a traffic jam.     “How about lunch?” She said.    “Lunch?”    “I packed a hamper for us. The Missus said I could.”    “I am a bit peckish. What’ve you got in there?”    “Beautiful sandwiches –black forest ham, avocado, thin slice of tomato and the finest fresh red leaf lettuce.”    “Gads. Sounds mouth-watering.” John put the car in park while Maggie handed him half a sandwich.    “And raspberry iced tea, too.”    “Oh, the Americans are so ignorant about tea,” John bemoaned.    “You can say that again. But this is passable.”    “I’ll take your word for it.”    They reached the small motel just before dinnertime. John took Maggie to a clam shack by the sea.     “Tell me about your family,” she asked, dipping her clam in the melted butter.    “I’m one of ten.”    “Ten? I thought our family was big.”    “They don’t miss me, I’m sure.”    “But your mum?”
    “Mum was wonderful. But she died five years ago. My sister Agnes has taken over running the place.”             “Do ya like her?”    He made a face. “Never a favorite of mine.”    After dinner they walked hand in hand on the beach. Maggie hiked up her skirt and waded in the surf. John followed. A wave that didn’t look too strong, knocked into her, throwing her down on top of John. They laughed as the water soaked them completely.    She rolled over, her knees in the soft sand between his legs. He snaked his arm about her waist, while his hand cupped her head. Slowly he lowered her lips to his. On her elbows, Maggie sank down farther in the sand until she was lying, full weight on him.     “You’re lovely,” John murmured before capturing her mouth again.
    Maggie’s reserve melted in the warm, salty water. She kissed him with enthusiasm. He helped her up. They returned to the motel to change into dry clothes. Sharing a snifter of brandy with John in the moonlight by the ocean, Maggie’s heart opened to the man who treated her like the Queen of England. 
"A bit wasteful, payin' for two rooms, don't you think?" She asked, looking up into his eyes. 

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TUESDAY TALES - PROMPT "KEY" MAGGIE'S STORY CONTINUES

Welcome! We're back this week with more of Maggie's story. The word prompt is "key". Thanks for coming. Don't forget to read the other stories by fine writers. Click on the link below to return to Tuesday Tales.  ********“Mr. Roberts isn’t feeling well, Maggie. I’m not going to join you at the farmer’s market. Could you make him some chicken soup?”“Of course Missus. Do I have to drive?” “John will drive you.” Anne Roberts smiled then went to attend her husband and son.Maggie made a face. Have to ride with that bloke?John opened the back door of the Mercedes for her, then slid behind the wheel. “I feel stupid riding back here,” Maggie shifted in her seat.“You want to sit next to me?”“Pfft! I’d rather walk.”“Six miles there and back?”“Anything to get away from you.”“I’m not all that bad, am I?”“You…you took liberties.”“Can I help it if I was overcome by the lure of a pretty woman.”“Bosh! Think you’re such a charmer, don’t you?”John chuckled. “Not with you, I’d guess.”“I’m on to your wily ways.”He pulled into the parking lot of the farmer’s market, and opened the car door before Maggie could. “Don’t be doin’ that. People’ll be starin’.”“It’s my job.”“Just quit it, okay?” Maggie slapped his arm lightly. “Wait in the car. I won’t be long.”
The booth with fresh flowers was bursting with blooms in bright pink, deep red and pure white. Maggie plucked a bouquet of summer flowers in an array of colors for Anne.Next was the cheese booth, a very white counter with a few cheeses on display. Maggie moved easily from booth to booth, picking up fresh carrots, celery and onions for chicken soup. After buying two loaves of fresh rye bread and a Pullman white for Mr. Roberts, her arms were full. On her way to the car, she tripped. The bags of vegetables popped up from her arms and landed on the grass, spilling onions everywhere. The breads bounced. An attractive, middle-aged man bent down.“Let me help you.”“I’ve got it,” she said, giving him a suspicious glance, while she gathered up vegetables. “A pretty girl like you? Your keys.” Maggie frowned. Masher. Before she could utter a word, someone else spoke. “Back off.” She turned to see John standing behind her with the loaves of bread in one hand.“I saw her first.”“That’s what you think. I’m adept at fisticuffs. Run along.”“Fisticuffs?” The man laughed.John fisted his free hand and swung it into the man’s belly. He bent over, gasping for air.“I warned you. Come along Maggie,” he said. She gathered up the last few carrots and let John lead her away.“Never fear, my dear. When you’re with me, you’re safe.”She looked at him with raised eyebrows. “Maybe, but who’ll keep me safe from you?” RETURN TO TUESDAY TALES MY WEBSITE
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TUESDAY TALES, PICTURE PROMPT

Welcome! This week we have this picture prompt. We're only allowed 300 words! It's a challenge. I'm returning the Maggie's story for a short interlude. Thank you for coming. Click on the link below to return to Tuesday Tales and read the fine stories there.
********Maggie walked down the road that abutted the Roberts one hundred acre estate in Sumner, New York. Though only an hour and a half north of the City, Maggie found peace walking the rural paths and streets. It reminded her of home. She missed the fresh air and unhurried attitude.    They had been encamped there since the first of July. The rambling Victorian house was quite comfortable. The kitchen was well equipped, the garden bursting with ripe vegetables and the market stocked with fresh local eggs and meat. Cooking there had been a joy.     John drove Mr. Roberts up every evening and back again in the morning.  He was devoted to his wife and son and refused to spend a night without them. Watching the couple hold hands, take long walks and get lost in conversation over cocktails made Maggie sigh. They were the love story she had always dreamed of.     The only sour note was that pesky driver, John. She sensed that he was always watching her. One lazy afternoon, she stole outside for a stroll down Bear Camp Road. When she heard footsteps behind her, she stopped.      “You walk this road often,” John said, coming up behind her.      “What’s it to you where I walk?” Maggie turned a hard eye on him.     “It’s not safe alone.”      “One minute you think I’m nippin’ the silver, now you’re worried about my safety?”      Before she could go on, the tall man leaned down and pressed his lips to hers.  Maggie jumped back and slapped him hard across the face.       “You’ve some nerve! Get away from me.”      She headed back to the house with John beside her. He rubbed his cheek.       “You had it coming. Hope it was worth it,” she mumbled, eyes straight ahead.      “It certainly was,” he chuckled.
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SWEET LOVE REMEMBERED - EMOTIONAL STORY - $.99

This story is special to me. It grabbed me as I took a long walk. When I returned, the story poured out of me in just two days. It's been a favorite of mine ever since. When it was released, I saw I was not alone. Whammo! 11 five star reviews right out of the box.
It's a novelette, a new term for a short book.

Here's what people have been saying about this story:

"This was the most incredible book I have ever read. I have never cried while reading a book and I did with this one. I read it in one night and just didn't want it to end..." Brandi

"I couldn't believe such a short story could make me feel so much..." Deb

"This was a sweet and powerfully emotional read. It may be short in length, but it definitely doesn't lack in content..." Sara

 "Sweet Love Remembered is phenomenal story. Matt and Perri's story is heartbreaking, and one that happens all too much in real life..."   sferguson

"OMG!! What a powerful short story. I was ugly crying big time. Jean did an outstanding job telling so much in such a short story packed with emotion." Amy
"Powerful short story..." Crystal
"This was a powerful story about loss and second chances..." cx3ane

"Very powerful read. loved this story...." Amy O'Neal
"WOW!!! So much emotion in such a short read. I had heart twinges and tears for this. I can never imaging going through what these two went through and my heart breaks for them..." Sassy Beta Reading and Review.
"What a lovely story of loss and finding your true love for the second time... I had tears in my eyes at the end. Very well written." Claire
"What a fabulous tear jerker!!! This short read had it all: love, loss, grief, and reconnections..."
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TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT "NAIL"

Welcome! Thanks for coming. This week I continue Maggie's story incorporating the word prompt "nail" at the end. Here we meet the other important person in her story. ************Maggie's days were spent in hard labor making beds, and cleaning toilets. Every day at two she would stop by the Roberts' suite. Anne would prop her baby, Penn, on the maid’s lap and open a book. The lovely scent of the freshly-washed baby made her smile. He gurgled and trained his blue eyes on her, studying her face as she read. His mother would steal into the master bedroom for an afternoon rendezvous with her handsome husband.Maggie would sigh, wondering if she’d ever feel that kind of passion again. At three, she’d put the sleeping baby down, pick up the twenty dollars left on the dresser for her and tiptoe out of the room. Maggie smiled more days than she didn’t, even under the burden of the heavy, physical work. As the thirtieth of the month drew near, Aggie took her aside.“Burt’s been telling me about you and the Roberts family. It’s not a good idea, girl. They’ll be leavin’ and you’ll be sad.”“Too late,” Maggie brushed her off. On the thirty-first, Maggie dragged herself to work. Her heart was heavy. This would be her last day with Anne and baby Penn. As she pushed her cart down the hall, tears threatened. The Roberts’ door was open and she heard laughter. The squeak of the wheels on the old cart announced Maggie’s arrival. Anne popped her head out. “Oh, good! You’re here,” she said, pulling the young woman into the room.Penn bounced in his baby seat and shrieked with joy. The sight of his smile and the sound of his laughter chased the sadness out of her heart. “We have a surprise for you,” Anne said, barely able to stand still.“You do?” Maggie’s eyebrows rose. Mr. Roberts joined them. He slipped his arm around his wife’s waist. They glanced at each other, grinning. Anne got up on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek.Maggie’s gaze bounced from one to the other and back again.“What’s up?”“We have an offer for you,” the husband said. “Oh?” “Tell her, tell her!”“Why don’t you?” He gazed at his wife with a loving twinkle in his eye.“Maggie, we want you to come work for us.”“You’re not in love with this job at the hotel, are you?” “In love with it? I hate it with a passion. Mrs. Roberts and little Penn are the highlight of my day.”“Come with us, Maggie. We have a big apartment. You’d have your own room.”“And bath, too. And I’ll double whatever you’re making here.”Maggie pinched her arm. This is a dream. It isn’t real.“Maybe  you’d better sit down,” Anne said, ushering the maid over to a chair. “Are you serious?”“Damn serious.”“Penn adores you and so do I,” Anne said, warmth visible in her eyes.“We have a penthouse on Park Avenue. I own the building. We’ll see that you're comfortable.”“Are you kidding?”“Never been more serious in my life. My wife says you’re the best nanny. How soon can you pack?”“In an hour.”“Done.” Mr. Roberts shook her hand. Anne hugged her and Penn clapped his hands. “Darling, would you send John over to pick her up?”“Of course. Our chauffeur will be there at…”he glanced at his watch. “Six. How’s that?”“Perfect. Thank you so much. I don’t know what to say.”“Just be ready.” After another look at his watch, he left the room.
Maggie paced in front of the decrepit building she’d called home. A shiny, black limousine stopped. A tall, handsome man got out, opened the back door and tipped his cap.He took her suitcase and placed it in the trunk while she settled into the backseat. The ride was smooth as a magic carpet. “I’m Maggie.”“John here,” he said in a perfect English accent. “Nice to meet you.”“Don’t be thinking you’re going to take the Roberts’ for a ride, young woman. They are the most decent sort. I’ve got my eye on you. I’ll be watching. Better not find any of the silver or jewelry missing or you’ll answer to me. I nailed the last nanny. She's doing five years in jail for theft.”Thanks for stopping by. Don't forget to read the tales by the most talented authors. 
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