Jean C. Joachim's Blog: Stories of Love and Passion, page 28

TUESDAY TALES - PICTURE PROMPT

 This week we are continuing with our football series, tentatively titled "First and Ten". This is Griff Montgomery's story. This post is limited to 300 words as are all the Tuesday Tales picture prompts. Thank you for stopping by. *****      Leslie Ferraday looked up at the sky as she walked from the parking lot to the courthouse. Do I still have an umbrella in the trunk? She chewed her lip. This silk suit will be ruined. 
   She came to appear in civil court for a suit she brought against Griff Montgomery. She was trying to get her pug, Zander, back.
Griff had taken possession of the dog. Claimed to have saved his life. Told the police she had neglected the dog. But it was all wrong.    Her ex-husband, Bob, was to blame. When she heard about her dad being hospitalized, she asked Bob to put Zander in the doggie hotel. She was gone for three weeks, much longer than she expected. Seems in his rush to move to L.A., Bob forgot about Zander, an animal he never liked anyway.    Tears gathered in her eyes as she considered the possibility of losing the suit. Zander and a half empty house were all she had. She sighed a deep shuddering breath as she approached the courthouse.    When she turned the corner, she almost ran into Griff Montgomery. The six foot six football player stood, looking devastatingly handsome in a perfectly tailored navy blue suit and white shirt.    Cameras clicked and reporters swarmed around the charismatic quarterback. Her heart sank as she watched him smile with confidence. Even his stance shouted “winner”. He’s famous. I’m nobody.  I don’t stand a chance.    A loud crack interrupted her thoughts. The clouds moved in swift, angry bunches, then the heavens opened up. She ran inside in time to avoid being drenched.     Her shoulders drooped. She blinked rapidly as her gaze connected with Griff’s. His eyes narrowed as she brushed away a runaway tear, before she turned her back and escaped to the ladies room. Return to Tuesday Tales Go to my website   

BEST OF...10 THINGS NOT TO SAY TO A ROMANCE WRITER… AND THE SNAPPY ANSWERS YOU MIGHT RECEIVE IF YOU DO.

TEN THINGS NOT TO SAY TO A ROMANCE WRITER… AND THE SNAPPY ANSWERS  YOU MIGHT RECEIVE IF YOU DO.
  1.     Did you model that character after me? 
        No, you’re too boring to be a character in my book.
  2.     Did you get your plot from a TV program?
        No, that’s called theft of intellectual property.
  3.     Are you going to put what I just said in a book?
        Maybe, but you’ll never know, will you?
  4.     Who did you fashion your characters after?
        No one, they are fiction, remember?
  5.     Did that really happen?
        No, that’s called nonfiction.
  6.     Where do you get your ideas from?
       I buy them at the corner store along with my crack, Oxycotin and  diet pills.
  7.     Does your mother know you write this stuff?
      Yes, and she’s buying copies for all her friends for Christmas.
  8.     Do people actually buy your books?
       Yes, I’ve got the royalty checks to prove it.
  9.     I could write something like this…it isn’t hard. 
      Go ahead…I dare you 
  10.  This isn’t real literature, you know. 
      Really? That’s what it’s classified as by the government (when you file for a copyright) 
   Thank you for stopping by. Which was your favorite? I love comments. Have a great day. 

BEST OF....REJECTIONS LETTERS WE'D LIKE TO SEE...

 Welcome to a week of The Best of my blogs. I've resurrected what I think are my best shots at engaging blogs. No, none of them are touting books, so you can relax. Hope you enjoy them. There's the first.  REJECTION LETTERS WE'D LIKE TO SEE…


Great Expectations by Charles Dickens
Dear Mr. Dickens,
So who has great expectations? Is this Miss Havisham chick expecting a roll in the hay with Pip or what? Cougar stories are hot right now but this kid is underage…don’t want to bring the feds down on us. So make him older and add a few hot scenes and resubmit.
 
A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens
Dear Mr. Dickens,
“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times”? Really? Make up your mind, Mr. Dickens. Which was it, the best or the worst of times. Geez. When you decide which it was, revise and resubmit. And bag that guillotine crap. Too bloody for our audience.


Stuart Little by E.B. White
Dear Mr. White,
A woman gives birth to a mouse? She’s cheating on her human husband with a giant mouse? Honestly…that may be original but is totally inappropriate for a kid’s book, Mr. White. Besides, it has creeped out the entire editorial staff. Don’t both rewriting and resubmitting this one, I’m afraid.You might consider intensive physchotherapy.




Don Quixote by Miguel de Cervantes Dear Mr. Cervantes,
A novel about a crazy, old guy who fights a windmill and his chubby sidekick who goes along because he has no life? Honestly, this story has been done to death, Mr. Cervantes. While we loved the chivalry, the plot was ho hum and the characters too far fetched. A hooker who turns down a good guy who doesn't want sex? Really, Mr. Cervantes? Please send us your next manuscript, we have not filled out quota of rejections yet this month.


Frankenstein by Mary Shelley
Dear Ms. Shelley,
Your hero is made out of dead body parts sewn together? Yuck! Three of our editors threw up reading about that. We believe in recycling, but that's ridiculous! Then you jump start him like a dead car battery with lightning from the sky. Yeah, like that’s ever gonna happen. What nice girl writes about something so grisly? Thanks but no thanks. Do send us your next attempt, we’re always looking for a good laugh.


Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll
Dear Mr. Carroll,
A girl disappears and this is funny? Down a rabbit hole? She eats pills that make her bigger and smaller then meets a floating grin that’s a cat? We suggest, Mr. Carroll, that the next time you take psycho-tropic recreational drugs, you remove pencil and paper from the room. Please, we know an acid trip when we see one. Good luck with your drug habit but don’t send us your next “trip”.



Little Women by Louisa May Alcott
Dear Ms. Alcott,
We were disappointed to see from the title of your book that it wasn’t about a bordello. These girls are innocent to the point of totally boring. Four editors fell asleep skimming your book for sex scenes. Besides, there was too much telling and not enough showing in this book. We couldn’t feel the emotions of your characters. What a bunch of spoiled brats! Please, spice up this book, like one of them gets it on with the rich kid next door, rewrite and resubmit. Oh and make the girls all over sixteen. We like ‘em legal.

TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT "BOTTOM"

Welcome! Thanks for stopping by. Here is another episode in the Griff Montgomery, Quarterback, story, continuing from last week. 
**********  Griff’s attention was drawn to the nicely rounded bottom facing him. The woman it belonged to was bending over to allow his dog, Spike, to lick her face clean. Lusty thoughts ran through his mind as the eye-catching body part almost brushed his leg. 
When the woman stood up and turned to face him, he saw long, dark hair, perfectly pink lips, and flashing hazel eyes throwing a cold look his way. He was dazzled.
“What?”
“You heard me. You stole my dog. This is Zander. And he’s mine,” she grabbed for the pug’s leash.
As he raised it above the reach of the beautiful woman standing before him, his eyes narrowed. “So you’re the asshole who left this dog to starve and die? No way are you getting him back. I should call the cops.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Lady, I found this dog, starving, guarding an empty house. Your house. Did you conveniently forget you had him? And now you want him back? Go to hell.” He pulled the dog closer to him and moved his long legs forward.   
"You got a lotta nerve talking to me like that! I did not forget my dog."
"Yeah? Tell it to the cops, lady." If I don’t get away from her, I’m going to hit her. He gritted his teeth as he walked. His eyes darkened and his hands fisted at his side. I hate animal abusers. 
A small tug on his arm caught his attention.
“What the fuck do you want?” He turned to face her.
“That’s my dog,” She said, her jaw tightened, her lips compressed into a thin line. 
“On a cold day in Hell, lady. If you were a man, I’d take you  behind that store and beat the shit out of you.” He took a menacing step toward her and she backed away. The woman’s eyes registered fear.
His gaze automatically slid down to her deliciously seductive chest. Annoyed with himself, he immediately snapped his attention back to her face. She inched toward him, closing her fingers around the leash and opened her mouth.

“Help! Police!” Back to Tuesday Tales My website

TUESDAY TALES - AUTHOR

Welcome back to Tuesday Tales. This week I have another installment in Griff Montgomery's story. Last week we met Leslie Ferraday. She's discovered her ex-husband left the dog when he moved to the West Coast. She's just discovered her dog, Zander, is missing. We meet Leslie and Griff both in this excerpt.This football romance does not have a title yet. Scroll down for the link to
return to Tuesday Tales and read some amazing stories.
****** Leslie walked down Main Street in her small town in Connecticut. Some of the cute shop windows had signs in them.  The Love-to-Read bookstore had a poster announcing a signing for one of her favorite authors, but Leslie didn’t see it.
She’d been in a daze since she lost Zander, staring out at the world with unseeing brown eyes. A week later and pain still flowed in her veins. Her feet ached from stopping at every lamppost and telephone pole in her neighborhood to tape up a lost dog poster. Exhaustion and depression weighed her down.
A familiar bark drew her attention. Her head snapped up. There, coming down the sidewalk on the other side of the street was a pug who looked an awful lot like Zander. 

He was on a leash held by a tall, handsome man. Leslie’s heart beat doubled. She whispered to herself, Zander.“Hey!” She called out, but the man didn’t look her way.
“Zander. Zander!” She hollered, her voice getting higher each time. The dog turned and barked. That was all Leslie needed.
She raced into the street. A car making its way to the south end of town, screeched on its brakes.
The man dropped the leash and leapt into the street. He snatched her arm and yanked her out of the way. 
She fell to her knees on the pavement, but didn’t feel the pain because the pug was licking her face. She kept repeating his name as tears streamed down her face.  "Are you okay, lady?” The man asked, grasping her elbow and easing her to her feet. Leslie clutched his arm while her knees trembled. She narrowed her eyes at him.
“You stole my dog,” she said.
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TUESDAY TALES - PICTURE PROMPT

This is our picture prompt week. I'm continuing with my untitled football romance. This week we leave Griff behind and meet the heroine, Leslie. Thank you so much for stopping by. Don't forget to return to the talented writers of Tuesday Tales. Scroll down for the link.

****
Leslie Ferraday stopped on the threshold. She put her suitcase down and took a deep breath. It’s empty. Bob said he’d leave the bed and the couch. Be prepared. The warm summer day invited her to stay outside. Why rush inside? No one's waiting. 
She sank down into a wicker chair and propped her feet up on the small bench. Moving her dad into an assisted living facility had been exhausting. Her brother, Nate, helped. His teenage sons were sweet and carried all the heavy stuff. She frowned. Damn tired of Nate calling me “Ferret”. That old childhood nickname still hurt.She picked up her cell and dialed Canine Ranch where her pug Zander had been staying. Thank God Bob agreed to let me keep him. 
 “No, Leslie. Zander’s not here.”“What? You sure? Bob was supposed to drop him off.”
“Nope. We have room, if he’s coming now?”
“Thanks, I’m home.”
She closed the phone.
Tears pricked at her eyes. He lied. He took Zander. After telling me I could have him. Why am I surprised? She pulled out a tissue. Don’t be a wimp. Call him. Get your dog back!
"What’s up, Leslie?”
“Why did you take Zander? Is this just another lie?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t have the damn dog. You dropped him at Canine Ranch.”
“What? No.”
“He’s your problem now.” He ex-husband hung up the phone.
Her heart beat quickened. Adrenaline pumped through her veins.
She opened the front door and called the dog’s name. No dog. She ran outside and repeated the action. Nothing. Zander, where are you? Panic rose in her chest, her pulse thumped in her ear. No whimpers or barking broke the quiet of the summer day. He’s gone.
 A sob broke from her throat as tears cascaded down her cheeks.   
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SPRING FLOWERS IN CENTRAL PARK & THE UPPER WEST SIDE OF MANHATTAN

Come along for a walk among the beautiful flowers and trees of Central Park!











 Homer's such a ham!
Best view in the City. Looking downtown in the park.
By the Shakespeare Theater.

















Chosen by RomCon, a 2014 Reader's Crown Contemporary Romance Finalist!
LOVERS & LIARS

Erica Wheeler needed a job or face eviction. The aspiring actress harbored a lifelong dream of stardom. Her friend, Amy, plotted revenge on sexy, bad-boy producer, Gunther Quill, putting Erica in a plum job. The women bent the truth like a pretzel to get her hired. Would Erica regret her lies when Gunther turned on the heat?
FOR MORE FLOWERS? CLICK HERE FOR THE 2ND HALF OF THIS TOUR. 
Like the pictures? Please leave a comment. Thanks for coming.
My website

SHINE YOUR LOVE ON ME IS PUBLISHED!

Now available on Amazon and All Romance eBooks.Here are a few snippets:


Pres slung his arm around her waist and escorted her to the apartment. Brooke leaned against him. His solid body comforted her. A deep breath brought his pleasant scent of maleness and Ivory soap to her. The dogs trotted along behind.He deposited her at the door.Ruth raised her eyebrows when she saw them. “Help me get her inside?”“I can walk.”“Right,” Pres said. He carried Brooke into the guest bedroom and laid her down on the bed while Ruth unleashed the dogs. He grabbed a pillow and stuffed it under her head.“Thank you,” she mumbled, her eyes closing as Pres turned out the light and shut the door.
****
“I’ve missed this…you,” he said, leaning over to open her robe. He stared at her body then closed his hands over her breasts. She unbuttoned his shirt. Brooke warmed at the feel of his hands on her, but chilled at his hard expression of lust. In the past, his touch, desire in his eyes, and a whisper in her ear could get her juices flowing. Tonight, he was rough, distant. There was no laughter on his lips or in his gaze. He wanted her as a man wants a woman, but not with love.
.**** He’s right.I’ll be okay. Somehow, I’ll get through this. “I’m here, any time you need me.” His words were like a balm to her raw spirit. He emanated a healing vibe, strong and warm. She snuggled into him. Pres didn’t move. “Hey, you two, get a room or get out here! We wanna cut the cake,” Harry called. Brooke stepped back and snapped to attention. Pres smiled down at her. “We’re giving that old man ideas.” “We’d better go. Thank you.” She grinned up at him, her eyes dry. “Am I all red and splotchy?” “You look beautiful. Tell Harry I gave you a sex flush.”  
ALL BUY LINKS HERE

Brooke Felson had a hot career on Madison Avenue, hot boyfriend and a place near Central Park. She lived the good life until, piece-by-piece, her world collapsed. Shattered and rootless, Brooke seeks a fresh start, but where to begin? Will grandmotherly wisdom and a handsome writer help her find real love and rebuild her life?   
 

SHINE YOUR LOVE ON ME! NEW RELEASE DAY!

The newest book in my MANHATTAN DINNER CLUB series is being release today!! Here's a bit about SHINE YOUR LOVE ON ME. Brooke Felson had a hot career on Madison Avenue, hot boyfriend and a place near Central Park. She lived the good life until, piece-by-piece, her world collapsed. Shattered and rootless, Brooke seeks direction from her past. Will grandmotherly wisdom and a handsome writer help her find real love and rebuild her life?  Excerpt #1 She ripped from his grasp. “Don’t do me any favors. I’m okay. I can make it on my own. I have been for a long time. I don’t need Lloyd, and I don’t need you.” She stumbled, starting to fall as the dogs pulled her toward the corner. Pres caught her. “You need help.” She looked up into his concerned eyes, and her control went south. “I do. I do need help. I do,” she said, as tears flooded her eyes and cascaded down her cheeks. She fisted his shirt, burying her face in his chest, and sobbed. Pres folded his arms around her, holding her steady against him. “Damn. Honey,” he whispered, as he kissed her hair. Brooke fastened hers around him in a vise-like grip. Unable to catch her breath, she hiccupped instead. “Easy, easy, sweetheart.” Pres spoke, as if to a panicked horse. “Slow down.”
 Excerpt #2 She glanced into the dining room. Three women and two men sat at the table drinking coffee and tea and laughing. “You’re right.” She blinked rapidly as she laid out the food on a platter. Pres pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to her. As she wiped her eyes, emotion choked her. Covering her face, she cried. Pres pulled her to him and turned his back to the doorway, shielding her. He held her close, stroking her head. “You’re smart. You’ll find something else,” he whispered. Brooke leaned into him. The fragrance of his clean T-shirt mixed with his scent and a pine aftershave calmed her. She rested her palms flat against his chest, enjoying the hardness of his pecs. “You have friends. You’re strong. You’ll be fine.” He’s right.I’ll be okay. Somehow, I’ll get through this. “I’m here, any time you need me.” His words were like a balm to her raw spirit. He emanated a healing vibe, strong and warm. She snuggled into him. Pres didn’t move. “Hey, you two, get a room or get out here! We wanna cut the cake,” Harry called. Brooke stepped back and snapped to attention. Pres smiled down at her. “We’re giving that old man ideas.”
Love, pugs, treachery, humor. This book has it all. Get it here: SECRET CRAVINGS

TUESDAY TALES - PROMPT "FREE"

Welcome! Thanks for stopping by. This week we go back to my nameless football romance. Griff Montgomery has come upon a homeless pug hanging around an empty house. Scroll down to return to the other authors who are amazing.

Griff approached the house slowly. The pug cowered then  raised his lip to show his teeth. He growled. The fur down his back stood up straight and his ears were flattened against his head. Griff crouched down, but the dog wouldn't back down.
"Okay, boy. Okay." He showed his hands to the canine and backed off. He retreated to his house, found an empty plastic dish and filled it with water. He returned to the empty house. Night was beginning to darken the sky. Griff put the water down next to the steps before the pug ran over and threatened him. 
He backed away and stopped to watch. The pooch approached the dish cautiously, sniffing. He stopped, then dipped his head and drank greedily. Griff smiled and stole away.
The next day in the locker room, Griff fastened his towel around his waist and joined his friend, Buddy Farnsworth, a wide receiver.
He told him about the homeless dog.
"What do you need a dog for?" Buddy asked, applying deoderant.
Griff shrugged and opened his locker.
"He's got no home."
"But you're free now. No family to tie you down. Women, man. You can have a ton of chicks."
"But he needs me."
"Then why has he practically attacked you?"
"He'll get used to me. I'm lovable, when you get to know me," Griff said, smiling.
"Barf bag! Hurling here," Buddy said, rifling a towel at his teammate.
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