Jean C. Joachim's Blog: Stories of Love and Passion, page 6

EVERYDAY HEROESAfter so many bad men making the news, let...

EVERYDAY HEROES
After so many bad men making the news, let's look at the positive side of men. 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 for me 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!  
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 my male writer friends who encourage me every day. 12) 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.
13) 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. 
14)  To my writing partner, Ben, who encourages me every day, never tells me my ideas are dumb or gives me a hard time about my typos or lack of punctuation…and listens, patiently, to me rant about life.
15) 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.16) To the two men who took my pictures and designed book covers for me just because they are my friends.
17) 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. 
18) 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.
19) To Doug, our guest, who surprised me with a Tiramisu cake just because I had admired it in the bakery window. 
20) To the man who jumped into a Facebook group to defend me when several people attacked my opinion.
21) To all the men who let me go first...from the checkout counter at the grocery store to the bread counter at Zabar's... simply because I'm a woman. 
22) 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.
23) To the men in IRM who are never stingy with hugs or encouragement. 
24) 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?

BASEBALL IS BACK! SKIP QUINCY, SHORTSTOP....The New York Nighthawks have returned...

Meet Skip Quincy, Shortstop for the New York Nighthawks. Up for Pre-Order! 

I'll be posting new excerpts of this book right up to release day. Here's excerpt #1

Francie Whitman, barely twenty-six, was getting her Master’s degree in studio art at City College. Her stepmother controlled a trust fund her father had left when he died. A frugal woman, Calista Whitman, counted every penny, sending Francie to a public university, and putting her up in a tiny studio apartment. When she became twenty-seven, control of the fund would shift, and Francie would steer her own way.
Because she was still in school and four years younger, Skip considered her a kid. Although he was strongly attracted to her, he kept his hands off, settling for bantering, teasing, and kidding, instead of dating.
She seemed okay with their friendship, until today. Her willingness to play strip poker shocked him. Not that he wouldn’t have jumped at the chance, had they been alone, but she’d never gone beyond harmless flirting with him before. The minute she had said, “strip poker” blood had pumped to his dick. It stopped when he teased her and backed away. Her frown also surprised him. He’d expected blushes, stammers, and recanting. Instead, she’d faced him with a bold stare, daring him to take up her challenge.

Rather than sort through his mixed feelings, Skip focused on his date with Mimi. He expected to take a lot of shit from his teammates if he started seeing her seriously. Hell, she was the widow of one of the most hated guys in baseball. Even though they had attended his funeral, every single Nighthawk had despised Rowley Banner. Skip had pitied the guy and his addiction to steroids. But that was no reason to stay away from his beautiful widow.
Get it now for only $2.99. Price goes up to $4.99 on release day. (Steamy, contemporary romance. Caution: locker room language)

PRE-ORDER THE EBOOK, SKIP QUINCY, SHORTSTOP HERE:
AMAZON

AMAZON U.K.

AMAZON CANADA

AMAZON AUSTRALIA

ITUNES/APPLE BOOKS

NOOK (BARNES & NOBLE)

NEW YEAR'S RESOLUTIONS BY THE NEW YORK NIGHTHAWKS!

NEW YEAR’S RESOLUTIONSBY THE NEW YORK NIGHTHAWKS



Dan Alexander, Pitcher“No more hitting batters, unless they’ve pissed off my buddies. Buy my girl flowers once a week. Try not to yell at her parents. Remember, all I said was try.”


















Matt Jackson, Catcher“I plan to block the plate against all runners, and hide it from the umpire. Also pledge to stop criticizing Stormy, and telling her how to play softball. Yeah, I know, good luck with the second one.”








Jake Lawrence, Third Base “I promise not to try out for any more Broadway shows, with or without Kate. I plan to run two extra miles before every game. Or at least try to. Trying counts, right?”











Nat Owen, First Base“I swear I’ll stretch my legs until I can do a split. Or at least add three more inches so I can get every bouncer that comes my way. No, I haven’t been missing, but you can always do better, right? As for women? Stay away from celebrities. Honest. Really. I will. I’ve learned my lesson. I have, I swear.”









Bobby Hernandez, Second Base“I promise to read the rest of Elena’s romance books in order. Also promise to stop giving Skip Quincy a hard time off the field. Yeah, right --on the second one.”









Skip Quincy, Short Stop“I don’t have to make any because my book’s not out yet. But here goes anyway. I will stop listening to Bobby Hernandez off the field. And I’ll forgive Billy Holmes. Women? Well, I don’t want to spoil the story, so I’m keeping my resolutions about the women in my life to myself.” *snickers.*



FIND THEIR STORIES IN EBOOK, PAPERBACK AND AUDIOBOOK HERE:
https://jeanjoachimbooks.com/bottom-o...

THE HOUSE-SITTER'S COUNTRY CHRISTMAS - EPISODES 11-13

Welcome back to the final episodes of this story. These will not be the totally final episodes, just the last few I'll be posting on my blog. The rest will be written and put out as a book, which will not be free. I hope you are enjoying the story. It may get changed in places when it's edited and put in book forms. Thanks for stopping by.

EPISODE ELEVEN

At ten o’clock, Laura and Ginger got in the car. Snow on bare branches glistened in the light of the moon. A few street lamps lighted the way. She drove slowly on the icy roads. “Thank you for inviting me, Laura. I get the feeling you wanted me to meet George.”“Are we that transparent?”Ginger laughed. “Well, he’s single.”“You two seemed to hit it off.”“He’s invited me to breakfast tomorrow morning.”“How nice.”“It’s pretty soon for me to be thinking about another man.”“Really?”“It’s only been six months since I lost John. I don’t think I’m ready.”“Take it slow, then. George is a wonderful man. Nothing wrong with having breakfast together.”“That’s what I thought. But his British ways. It’s kinda strange to me.”“You’ll get used to it. He’s simply the nicest man.”Laura pulled into Jess’s driveway. “Thanks again. And for the lift home,” Ginger said, exiting the vehicle. When Laura arrived home, she found George and Craig enjoying a hot toddy by the fire. She joined them.
“Let me heat up one for you, dear,” Craig said, rising.When he left, Laura looked straight at George. “So, how did our little ruse work?”“You mean Ginger?”She nodded. “She’s lovely. Much too soon for her, though. But a good choice.”“Glad to hear. You’re breaking bread with her tomorrow?”“Yes. I thought breakfast would be less intimidating than a dinner date.”“Smart.”“My life isn’t conducive to marriage. I travel too much. And the time I’m here, I like to spend some with my children.”“I understand. That might work well for Ginger. Seems she’s not ready for a heavy-duty commitment.”“Might be perfect, then?”Laura chuckled. “Wouldn’t that be a nice Christmas present?”“It would indeed,” George replied, raising his glass. Craig returned, handed her a small glass, and sat down next to her. She sipped and put the warm beverage down. Craig enveloped her small hand between his.“Perfect for a night like tonight,” she said. “Is it always this cold? All winter long?”“I’m afraid so. You get used to it, after a while.”“I doubt I ever could,” Craig replied. “Does that mean you don’t want to come back here in the winter?”“Maybe,” he said, hedging his bets. George cleared his throat. “When you’re dressed properly, it’s quite invigorating.”“Oh, shut up, George,” Craig muttered.“Craig!” Laura’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry. But do you have to be so damn cheerful all the time?”“Pardon me, sir. I just thought that you might consider some compromise. Considering you’ve found the one woman who meets your qualifications and will put up with you,” George said, his eyes hot. “The one woman who…what?” Laura straightened up in her seat. “What qualifications?”“Thanks, George,” Craig said, fuming.“Nothinig, nothing. Just that he wouldn’t tolerate any woman who wasn’t smart and attractive.”“Oh. That’s not so bad.”“And one who would give him a hard time about how babyish, selfish, and annoying he can be,” George tossed in. “I’m babyish? Who called a woman ‘madam’ and almost started World War Three a few days ago?”“That’s a perfectly acceptable form of address where I come from.”“Yeah? Well, we’re not where you come from. We’re where I come from.”“Boys, boys! Stop.” “Sometimes I lose my patience, Miss. Mr. Banley’s finally found the one woman he could live with and now he’s complaining that the climate she lives in is too cold. I’m going to bed. Sometimes, I just can’t take him,” George said, shaking his head. “Everything is always about you. You need to learn the definition of the word ‘compromise’, sir.” George rose from his seat and headed for the kitchen. Laura heard the water running. Wasn’t it like George to wash out his glass before retiring, even in the midst of a disagreement. “George loses patience with me. But you don’t,” Craig said, facing her. “I might. I mean if you are as childish as George says, then, well, who knows?” She cocked an eyebrow at him. “You wouldn’t leave me because I don’t like winter, would you?”“Probably not. But you have to make an effort, Craig. Not everything is going to be to your liking all the time. You need to learn to adapt.”“It’s funny, but in the beginning, nothing in my life was the way I wanted. When I started working with Uncle C.W. and got a little success, well, then, I vowed that everything was going to be the way I wanted. Kinda making up for lost time.”“I get it. But you’ve been living in style for quite a while now. Time to compromise a little. Don’t you think?”“I hope I can. I’d hate to lose you,” he said, taking her hand. Laura picked up her glass. Did she want to spend the rest of her life with a man who expected the world to tie itself into knots to suit him all the time? Could she live with someone who would never compromise? Did she want to give up her house, never be here to feed the birds and the deer in the winter? She swallowed. He raised her hand to his lips. “What are you thinking?”She shook her head. “Come on. You’re making me nervous.”“So maybe you have to be nervous for a few minutes. Would that kill you?” She knew she was snapping at him, but she resented being pushed. She didn’t care to share her thoughts. They disturbed her, and until she had worked them out, they would be hers alone. “Wow. Where did that come from?” He moved back. “Don’t push me. If I don’t want to share something, that should be okay with you.”“It is. It is. I’m sorry.”His face became boyish, his eyes pleading. How could she deny him anything? “George is right, you know. I’m selfish, uncompromising, set in my ways.”“Are you trying to tell me something? Like I shouldn’t be with you?”“Never! Not at all. But if you want me, you have to take the frog with warts and all, before you transform me into a prince.”“Who said anything about a prince? I only want a man, who loves me.”“Then you’ve got him. Here I am.” He leaned over to kiss her. Laura heard George fussing in the kitchen. “I think we should take this discussion to the bedroom,” she said, softly. “You read my mind,” Craig responded. He arose and offered her his hand. She took it and they headed for the stairs. Her body tingled at the thought of what lay ahead. They had had tiffs before, and always made up in the bedroom. While she’d acknowledge that Craig Banley could be an obstinate man who would stick with his opinion, she admitted fully that no one knew how to make up in the bedroom like her Craig.
* * * *   Mumbling to himself, George ambled to the guest room on the first floor. Though there was a larger one upstairs, he preferred to be as far away from the master bedroom as possible. He’d avoid overhearing any noise coming from the room Craig and Laura shared. 
   Ever since they had gotten together, George had been examining his own life. He’d been too busy to be lonely most of the time. But when work stopped, like at the holidays, it became harder for him.   At Thanksgiving, he’d made the rounds of his children’s homes. He’d been grateful for Craig Banley’s trips to Europe over Christmas. He’s sent gifts to his grandchildren from all over the world. And traveling on Mr. Banley’s dime helped him save money. It had been a true win/win situation. Craig’s temperament softened a bit over the holiday.    But now, that would be over. He’d want to spend this time with Laura, which left George to be a third wheel. He hated intruding on their privacy. He’d stopped denying the pangs of jealousy he felt when he saw them together. They were so damn happy!    He wanted to feel that way about a woman and have one return his affection. As for sleeping alone, he’d finally become accustomed to it, but that didn’t mean he liked it. Heavens, no, sleeping alone offered no comfort, even if he could have the blankets all to himself.    Finding a woman who could live with his crazy schedule would be impossible. That was the reason he’d given himself for not even looking. But this woman, Ginger, had come along. 
   Their situations were not ideal at all –quite the opposite. How could she ever get away from the farm to come to New York? And how would he like mucking out a stall or tramping around in the snow and mud?    He chuckled to himself. Perhaps he’d better take the advice he’d given Craig so freely. It was time to compromise, put up with, and share. The idea intrigued him. A bright man, he’d always welcomed a challenge. Forging a relationship with a woman who lived two hours away on a working farm would tax his creative thinking to it’s limit. Was she worth it? Tomorrow, he’d set about finding out.    George changed into pajamas and slid beneath the plush comforter. As he lay in bed, his gaze roamed over the cozy quarters. He loved the room. With walls sporting a coat of warm, spring green, it had the flavor of the outdoors. The bed spread had a charming small flower print in light blue, yellow and two shades of green. The old fashioned lamp on the nightstand was a tap lamp. The small dresser was pine, with a clear finish. And the windows looked out on the back and side yards.    George drifted off, thinking about his date with the lady with the hot temper and the auburn hair.    In the morning, he arose before the others. Grabbing a quick shower, he dressed rapidly in the cool air, and hit the kitchen to put up coffee, and a kettle on the stove for his tea. He puttered around, setting up coffee mugs, and milk, as well as his tea cup. Humming Christmas songs to himself, he glanced out back to find the feeders empty. Shrugging on his jacket, he headed out back with a bag of bird seed. After filling the feeders, he glimpsed something dark out of the corner of his eye. Turning, he faced a black bear about six feet from him. The bear eyed the bag of birdseed.Panic shot through George. He tossed the bag of seed at the bear and flew back to the house. Shutting and locking the back door, he peer out through the back window. Huffing and puffing,  while the adrenaline in his veins slowed down, he witnessed the bear attack the bag, ripping it to shreds so it could chow down on the seed. Perhaps Craig wasn’t completely off about life in the country.


EPISODE TWELVE
   George brewed another cup of tea while he watched the bear demolish the bag and gobble up the bird seed. Once his nerves were settled, he returned to his room to look in the mirror. He made a face. How could he pick the green tie with this shirt? He ripped the offending garment from his neck and pawed through the selection of neckwear in his suitcase.
   One tie after another was discarded, thrown, in disgust, on the bed. Finally, he concluded that the ties were fine, but it was the shirt that was wrong. He checked his watch. It was eight thirty and Ginger was due at nine. He had no time. Whizzing through the shirts he’d hung up upon arrival, he finally settled on the blue striped shirt because it would go well with the green tie.       His eyes were pale green and he’d been told that green in a shirt or tie highlighted that. Pushing the tie into position, he then checked his image in the mirror. Finally he’d found the right combination.
   After his frantic wardrobe emergency, his hair needed combing. He tidied up, brushed off his shoulders, and headed for the foyer. Craig and Laura hadn’t even come downstairs yet. George chuckled to himself that they had already found a better way to wake up than a cup of coffee. His thoughts turned to the occasional morning when he and Eleanor had tasted of marital delights before breakfast. She had been a spunky woman, up for any adventure, be it visiting a new country or a new sexual position. He’d been a lucky man.
   George sighed. Long ago, he gave up the hope of finding anyone up to her standard. Perhaps, after all this time, he’d be happier lowering the bar a bit and not being alone. The honking of a horn drew his attention.
   He opened the door and greeted Ginger, who kissed his cheek, then turned to wave farewell to Jess. George offered her his arm. “Shall we depart?”   “Of course,” she replied.  
 George opened the car door for her and Ginger gave him directions. The diner was warm with the aroma of fresh brewed coffee and cinnamon buns in the air. George’s stomach rumbled. The small place had about half a dozen booths and the same number of tables. A waitress with a name tag that read “Holly”
“Sit anywhere. I’ll be right there with menus,” she said, gesturing. There were two empty booths by the windows.“Where would you like to sit?” He asked Ginger.As soon as they were seated, Holly whizzed by, dropping menus and offering coffee. George declined, but Ginger accepted. “Tell me about your life in New York City. Where in the world have you traveled? Or should the question be, where haven’t you been? Do you like working for Craig Banley?”“Whoa! Hold on. Wait a minute. One question at a time. Please.” He laughed.
   They ordered blueberry pancakes with bacon. George regaled Ginger with his travels with C.W. She seemed to hang on every word, asking good questions.“Where would you go, if someone handed you a blank ticket?” He asked. “Gosh. So many places. Guess it’s between Paris and Rome. No, wait, Paris and London. Maybe. What’s your favorite place?”“Paris is beautiful, even if the people aren’t always so friendly.”“Then, Paris,” she said. George took her hand and looked into her blue eyes. “I’d love to take you there.”“Let’s go so I can start packing,” she said.  “Have you ever been on a farm?”He shook his head. “My goodness! You’ve been to Africa and Europe, but never on a farm. We’ll have to fix that.”“I’d love to visit.”“I have a guest room with your name on it,” she replied. “I’m honored. Tell me about a typical day at the farm.”  
   While he listened, George took note of Ginger’s best features. Surely, she had the most beautiful, clear blue eyes. Her pale skin reminded him of heavy cream as he had poured it out to create whipped cream. He noted her breasts, plump and inviting under her apricot sweater. The rest of her was hidden under the table. But he’d seen enough to know her form was enticing.
   Surprised to find his thoughts running through the same gutter at Craig’s, he almost chuckled. Instead, he cleared his throat. There was no way he could explain what he was laughing without offending. He gazed at her face, animated with the love of her animals, house and garden. “The British are big on gardens. Are you a big gardener, George?”“I have dabbled occasionally, though I can’t say I have a very green thumb.” “Too bad. I could use some help in mine.”“I’d love to see it.”“I’m afraid you’ll have to wait until spring,” she said. George took her hands in his. “I’d be happy to wait until spring.”Her face flushed the most becoming shade of pink. He raised one hand to his lips.  “You’re just a big flirt, George.”“Ah, you’ve caught me. Yes, I am. Especially around beautiful women.”
*************************


EPISODE THIRTEEN
“It’s Christmas Eve. There’s a lot going on, for a small town like ours,” Laura said, sipping coffee at the kitchen table. “Like what?”“A late service at the church up the hill, followed by a midnight hayride. There’s caroling outside the café at three. Kiwanis is throwing a big Christmas Eve dinner. We have plenty of people out here who can’t afford a big Christmas dinner. There’s a surprise book exchange. People gift wrap some of their gently used books and give them away. Some people have garage sales actually held in their garages!” She laughed. “Do we have to do all those things?”“Of course not. Which ones do you want to do?”“Well, I’m not much on second-hand stuff. No one cooks a better meal than you. I’m probably allergic to hay…so that leaves, caroling? How long will it take?”“I thought you came out here to absorb a country Christmas?”“I did. A country Christmas with you. I don’t care about the other stuff. I don’t know anyone here.”“You’ll never meet anyone hiding out in my house.”“I’d prefer to hide out in your bed,” he snickered. “But this is such a nice time. There are many wonderful people out here. They put a lot of time and energy into these events. Some people look forward to them all year.”“Do you?”“I used to. Before I started house-sitting for you and your uncle.”“You mean you attended all these?”She nodded. “The dinner is especially good. People make their best dishes. There are dozens of dishes to choose from. I swear I put on five pounds after the dinner, the school bake sale and the caroling at the café.”“How does caroling put weight on you?”“You can’t just sit at the café and not order food. Their hot chocolate is wonderful.”“What if I don’t want to share you with the town?” Craig refilled his mug. Laura frowned. This wasn’t going the way she expected. Perhaps thinking Craig would love everything she did, simply because he loved her, had been a mistake. “I’m not used to doing anything for Christmas.”“I forgot. And you liked that?”“I got used to it. It was a day off from work and a good meal.”“You don’t know how sad that sounds,” she replied. “Don’t feel sorry for me. I have everything I could ever want and need, except you.”“But you do have me.”“Do I? You love it here, don’t you?”She smiled. “Would  you ever sell your house and live in the City with me?”“Sell? Oh good heavens, no. Why? Why can’t we live in both places?”“I don’t think I’m cut out to be a country boy.”“You haven’t given it a chance. Please come to some of these things today. Try them. You need to get the Christmas spirit.”“I did. I gave a fat check to Santa’s Thrift Shop.”“That was wonderful, but it shouldn’t stop there. Let the people of the town give to you.”“What can they give me that I can’t buy for myself?”Laura’s mouth fell open, she frowned. “None of this is about money.”“Isn’t it? At the church service, they’ll send around an offering plate, right?”“Yes, so?”“And at the dinner, they’ll ask for a small donation to cover the food, right?”“It’s voluntary. Only if you can afford it.” “And the bake sale is to raise money for the school, right?”“I see what you mean.”“I’d rather send a check to each of these places and stay by the fire, having a hot toddy with you.”“But that’s not what Christmas is about.”“It is for me. Or it has been for many years now. Except for the gifts you left and the decorations, I’ve never participated in any of those things.”She took his hand in hers. “I’m so sorry, Craig. You’ve missed out on so much.”“Have I? Here I sit. On top of the world, with plenty of money, a beautiful home, and the girl of my dreams. Am I missing much?”“Won’t you come with me and see?”He frowned and his brow wrinkled. “Do I have to?”“You can stay here. But I’m going,” she said, pushing up from the table, her body rigid as she put her mug in the sink and headed for the bedroom.
* * * *Craig halted as a gust of frigid air assailed him. George came through the door. “Hurry up, get dressed, Craig. We have places to go. Ginger gave me the schedule. First event begins in an hour. Hurry, man!” “You, too? Damn it. I don’t think so.” Craig huffed up the stairs and into the bedroom, slamming the door. Startled, Laura jumped and turned. “What was that for?”“George just came home with Ginger. Full of that Christmas spirit you’re talking about. Now he wants me to do to these things, too.”“Good. Then you agree?”He shook his head. “I suppose I have to.”“No, you don’t. You can stay here.”He shed his robe and fished through the closet to find something to wear. After making love to Laura this morning, his mood couldn’t have been better. Now, that good cheer had vanished. Grumbling to himself, he grabbed his clothes, stuffed them under his arm and trudged to the bathroom. After showering and shaving, he dressed and returned to the bedroom. Within seconds, George was pounding on the door and yelling. Well, maybe simply speaking in a louder voice than normal. “Hurry up, Craig. We’re waiting for you.”He glanced out the window. There had been more snow overnight. The white powdery stuff glistened in the sunlight. Picture-book pretty, but annoying and dangerous to drive in. He opened the dresser drawer to get his watch and spied the small, square box resting on his T-shirt. He stopped. Perhaps this was all a mistake? Could being with Laura simply end up a delightful fling that had run its course? He shivered at the thought of losing her. Yet, here he was, being dragged to places to rub elbows with people he could care less about. He picked up the box and placed it back in his suitcase. He’d had a near miss. He let out a breath at how close he had come to disaster. As much as he cared for Laura, she wasn’t the girl for him. She had ties to Pine Grove he couldn’t break. She’d always want to come back to this drafty house, cramped with one full bathroom. How could he be comfortable here? And hanging with people who couldn’t afford a regular Christmas meal? He’d never be comfortable with that –those were the people he didn’t have to meet or see, the ones he took care of with the swipe of his pen on a check. Laura seemed to care about the people here. She had ties, lived a different life from his. It appeared to be one she wouldn’t be happy to part with. Did he want to spend the next forty years being miserable at Christmas? Of course, he’d been miserable at Christmas for many years already. He had thought Laura was his ticket to a perfect holiday. Just her, maybe George, and his townhouse. He sighed. Sadness filled his heart. He truly loved her, but compromising his life to live her way seemed liked reaching for the moon. He wound a wool scarf around his neck and turned toward the door. His shoulders slumped as he made his way down the stairs. Smiling would be an effort. He knew what he had to do. But he’d wait one more day before taking action. Give Pine Grove one more chance to prove itself worthy. He didn’t hold out hope that anything would change. Would Laura give it up for him? Probably. She was that kind of woman and she seemed to love him, but how happy would she be? Doomed from the start. A heaviness in his heart made every step feel like he was lifting ten tons. But he got in the backseat with Laura, while George manned the wheel and Ginger rode shotgun. He avoided Laura’s gaze, unable to let her see the unhappiness in his eyes. He stared out the window at the frozen landscape and buttoned his coat all the way to the top. George and Ginger chattered away about each event, but it all blended together as background noise. Craig’s heart broken piece by piece as he looked for a way out, but found none. Which path he should take became clear. Laura slid her hand over the seat and clasped his. “Are you all right?”
He looked down at their hands and nodded. Emotion gathered in his chest and he didn’t trust his voice. 

OOPS! Sorry, but the story ends here, temporarily, until the book is completed and available for sale. Thank you so much for stopping by to read. I will post when it's completed. 


CLICK HERE FOR EPISODES 1-5
    CLICK HERE FOR EPISODES 6-10

In the meantime, if you want to read the first book, "The House-Sitter's Christmas", a sweet fairy tale holiday romance, here's how to get it. It's even in large print (great gift for those with visual issues) and on audio with dual narrators! 


AMAZON UShttps://www.amazon.com/dp/B075ZQ7BJS
AMAZON U.K.https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B075ZQ7BJS
AMAZON CAhttps://www.amazon.ca/dp/B075ZQ7BJS
AMAZON AUhttps://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B075ZQ7BJS
BARNES & NOBLEhttps://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-house-sitters-christmas-jean-c-joachim/1127167664;jsessionid=31E77D02363D1668FAB11697A3F0652F.prodny_store01-atgap04?ean=2940154957455
AMAZON INhttps://www.amazon.in/dp/B075ZQ7BJS
KOBOhttps://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/the-house-sitter-s-christmas

ITUNES/APPLEhttps://itunes.apple.com/us/book/id1290885430
GOOGLEPLAYhttps://play.google.com/store/books/details/Jean_Joachim_The_House_Sitter_s_Christmas?id=zt83DwAAQBAJ

PAPERBACKhttps://www.createspace.com/7631470
AUDIOhttps://www.audible.com/pd/Romance/The-House-Sitters-Christmas-A-Romantic-Fairy-Tale-Audiobook/B0772WKRLG/
LARGE PRINT
https://www.amazon.com/dp/1979801150/

THE HOUSE-SITTER'S COUNTRY CHRISTMAS - EPISODES 11-15

Welcome back to the final episodes of this story. These will not be the totally final episodes, just the last few I'll be posting on my blog. The rest will be written and put out as a book, which will not be free. I hope you are enjoying the story. It may get changed in places when it's edited and put in book forms. Thanks for stopping by.

EPISODE ELEVEN

At ten o’clock, Laura and Ginger got in the car. Snow on bare branches glistened in the light of the moon. A few street lamps lighted the way. She drove slowly on the icy roads. “Thank you for inviting me, Laura. I get the feeling you wanted me to meet George.”“Are we that transparent?”Ginger laughed. “Well, he’s single.”“You two seemed to hit it off.”“He’s invited me to breakfast tomorrow morning.”“How nice.”“It’s pretty soon for me to be thinking about another man.”“Really?”“It’s only been six months since I lost John. I don’t think I’m ready.”“Take it slow, then. George is a wonderful man. Nothing wrong with having breakfast together.”“That’s what I thought. But his British ways. It’s kinda strange to me.”“You’ll get used to it. He’s simply the nicest man.”Laura pulled into Jess’s driveway. “Thanks again. And for the lift home,” Ginger said, exiting the vehicle. When Laura arrived home, she found George and Craig enjoying a hot toddy by the fire. She joined them.
“Let me heat up one for you, dear,” Craig said, rising.When he left, Laura looked straight at George. “So, how did our little ruse work?”“You mean Ginger?”She nodded. “She’s lovely. Much too soon for her, though. But a good choice.”“Glad to hear. You’re breaking bread with her tomorrow?”“Yes. I thought breakfast would be less intimidating than a dinner date.”“Smart.”“My life isn’t conducive to marriage. I travel too much. And the time I’m here, I like to spend some with my children.”“I understand. That might work well for Ginger. Seems she’s not ready for a heavy-duty commitment.”“Might be perfect, then?”Laura chuckled. “Wouldn’t that be a nice Christmas present?”“It would indeed,” George replied, raising his glass. Craig returned, handed her a small glass, and sat down next to her. She sipped and put the warm beverage down. Craig enveloped her small hand between his.“Perfect for a night like tonight,” she said. “Is it always this cold? All winter long?”“I’m afraid so. You get used to it, after a while.”“I doubt I ever could,” Craig replied. “Does that mean you don’t want to come back here in the winter?”“Maybe,” he said, hedging his bets. George cleared his throat. “When you’re dressed properly, it’s quite invigorating.”“Oh, shut up, George,” Craig muttered.“Craig!” Laura’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry. But do you have to be so damn cheerful all the time?”“Pardon me, sir. I just thought that you might consider some compromise. Considering you’ve found the one woman who meets your qualifications and will put up with you,” George said, his eyes hot. “The one woman who…what?” Laura straightened up in her seat. “What qualifications?”“Thanks, George,” Craig said, fuming.“Nothinig, nothing. Just that he wouldn’t tolerate any woman who wasn’t smart and attractive.”“Oh. That’s not so bad.”“And one who would give him a hard time about how babyish, selfish, and annoying he can be,” George tossed in. “I’m babyish? Who called a woman ‘madam’ and almost started World War Three a few days ago?”“That’s a perfectly acceptable form of address where I come from.”“Yeah? Well, we’re not where you come from. We’re where I come from.”“Boys, boys! Stop.” “Sometimes I lose my patience, Miss. Mr. Banley’s finally found the one woman he could live with and now he’s complaining that the climate she lives in is too cold. I’m going to bed. Sometimes, I just can’t take him,” George said, shaking his head. “Everything is always about you. You need to learn the definition of the word ‘compromise’, sir.” George rose from his seat and headed for the kitchen. Laura heard the water running. Wasn’t it like George to wash out his glass before retiring, even in the midst of a disagreement. “George loses patience with me. But you don’t,” Craig said, facing her. “I might. I mean if you are as childish as George says, then, well, who knows?” She cocked an eyebrow at him. “You wouldn’t leave me because I don’t like winter, would you?”“Probably not. But you have to make an effort, Craig. Not everything is going to be to your liking all the time. You need to learn to adapt.”“It’s funny, but in the beginning, nothing in my life was the way I wanted. When I started working with Uncle C.W. and got a little success, well, then, I vowed that everything was going to be the way I wanted. Kinda making up for lost time.”“I get it. But you’ve been living in style for quite a while now. Time to compromise a little. Don’t you think?”“I hope I can. I’d hate to lose you,” he said, taking her hand. Laura picked up her glass. Did she want to spend the rest of her life with a man who expected the world to tie itself into knots to suit him all the time? Could she live with someone who would never compromise? Did she want to give up her house, never be here to feed the birds and the deer in the winter? She swallowed. He raised her hand to his lips. “What are you thinking?”She shook her head. “Come on. You’re making me nervous.”“So maybe you have to be nervous for a few minutes. Would that kill you?” She knew she was snapping at him, but she resented being pushed. She didn’t care to share her thoughts. They disturbed her, and until she had worked them out, they would be hers alone. “Wow. Where did that come from?” He moved back. “Don’t push me. If I don’t want to share something, that should be okay with you.”“It is. It is. I’m sorry.”His face became boyish, his eyes pleading. How could she deny him anything? “George is right, you know. I’m selfish, uncompromising, set in my ways.”“Are you trying to tell me something? Like I shouldn’t be with you?”“Never! Not at all. But if you want me, you have to take the frog with warts and all, before you transform me into a prince.”“Who said anything about a prince? I only want a man, who loves me.”“Then you’ve got him. Here I am.” He leaned over to kiss her. Laura heard George fussing in the kitchen. “I think we should take this discussion to the bedroom,” she said, softly. “You read my mind,” Craig responded. He arose and offered her his hand. She took it and they headed for the stairs. Her body tingled at the thought of what lay ahead. They had had tiffs before, and always made up in the bedroom. While she’d acknowledge that Craig Banley could be an obstinate man who would stick with his opinion, she admitted fully that no one knew how to make up in the bedroom like her Craig.
* * * *   Mumbling to himself, George ambled to the guest room on the first floor. Though there was a larger one upstairs, he preferred to be as far away from the master bedroom as possible. He’d avoid overhearing any noise coming from the room Craig and Laura shared. 
   Ever since they had gotten together, George had been examining his own life. He’d been too busy to be lonely most of the time. But when work stopped, like at the holidays, it became harder for him.   At Thanksgiving, he’d made the rounds of his children’s homes. He’d been grateful for Craig Banley’s trips to Europe over Christmas. He’s sent gifts to his grandchildren from all over the world. And traveling on Mr. Banley’s dime helped him save money. It had been a true win/win situation. Craig’s temperament softened a bit over the holiday.    But now, that would be over. He’d want to spend this time with Laura, which left George to be a third wheel. He hated intruding on their privacy. He’d stopped denying the pangs of jealousy he felt when he saw them together. They were so damn happy!    He wanted to feel that way about a woman and have one return his affection. As for sleeping alone, he’d finally become accustomed to it, but that didn’t mean he liked it. Heavens, no, sleeping alone offered no comfort, even if he could have the blankets all to himself.    Finding a woman who could live with his crazy schedule would be impossible. That was the reason he’d given himself for not even looking. But this woman, Ginger, had come along. 
   Their situations were not ideal at all –quite the opposite. How could she ever get away from the farm to come to New York? And how would he like mucking out a stall or tramping around in the snow and mud?    He chuckled to himself. Perhaps he’d better take the advice he’d given Craig so freely. It was time to compromise, put up with, and share. The idea intrigued him. A bright man, he’d always welcomed a challenge. Forging a relationship with a woman who lived two hours away on a working farm would tax his creative thinking to it’s limit. Was she worth it? Tomorrow, he’d set about finding out.    George changed into pajamas and slid beneath the plush comforter. As he lay in bed, his gaze roamed over the cozy quarters. He loved the room. With walls sporting a coat of warm, spring green, it had the flavor of the outdoors. The bed spread had a charming small flower print in light blue, yellow and two shades of green. The old fashioned lamp on the nightstand was a tap lamp. The small dresser was pine, with a clear finish. And the windows looked out on the back and side yards.    George drifted off, thinking about his date with the lady with the hot temper and the auburn hair.    In the morning, he arose before the others. Grabbing a quick shower, he dressed rapidly in the cool air, and hit the kitchen to put up coffee, and a kettle on the stove for his tea. He puttered around, setting up coffee mugs, and milk, as well as his tea cup. Humming Christmas songs to himself, he glanced out back to find the feeders empty. Shrugging on his jacket, he headed out back with a bag of bird seed. After filling the feeders, he glimpsed something dark out of the corner of his eye. Turning, he faced a black bear about six feet from him. The bear eyed the bag of birdseed.Panic shot through George. He tossed the bag of seed at the bear and flew back to the house. Shutting and locking the back door, he peer out through the back window. Huffing and puffing,  while the adrenaline in his veins slowed down, he witnessed the bear attack the bag, ripping it to shreds so it could chow down on the seed. Perhaps Craig wasn’t completely off about life in the country.
  Comments are welcome! Episode Twelve comes tomorrow!
CLICK HERE FOR EPISODES 1-5
    CLICK HERE FOR EPISODES 6-10

In the meantime, if you want to read the first book, "The House-Sitter's Christmas", a sweet fairy tale holiday romance, here's how to get it. It's even in large print (great gift for those with visual issues) and on audio with dual narrators! 


AMAZON UShttps://www.amazon.com/dp/B075ZQ7BJS
AMAZON U.K.https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B075ZQ7BJS
AMAZON CAhttps://www.amazon.ca/dp/B075ZQ7BJS
AMAZON AUhttps://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B075ZQ7BJS
BARNES & NOBLEhttps://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-house-sitters-christmas-jean-c-joachim/1127167664;jsessionid=31E77D02363D1668FAB11697A3F0652F.prodny_store01-atgap04?ean=2940154957455
AMAZON INhttps://www.amazon.in/dp/B075ZQ7BJS
KOBOhttps://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/the-house-sitter-s-christmas

ITUNES/APPLEhttps://itunes.apple.com/us/book/id1290885430
GOOGLEPLAYhttps://play.google.com/store/books/details/Jean_Joachim_The_House_Sitter_s_Christmas?id=zt83DwAAQBAJ

PAPERBACKhttps://www.createspace.com/7631470
AUDIOhttps://www.audible.com/pd/Romance/The-House-Sitters-Christmas-A-Romantic-Fairy-Tale-Audiobook/B0772WKRLG/
LARGE PRINT
https://www.amazon.com/dp/1979801150/

THE HOUSE-SITTER'S COUNTRY CHRISTMAS - EPISODES 6-10

EPISODE SIX
Last minute errands kept Laura out of the house, running from the grocery store to the bakery to the pet supply store for food for Jasper. And a cat bed, and cat toys, and cat treats…She pulled into her driveway and checked her watch. Will should have been finished painting the living room. Craig and George were due tomorrow morning and she had so much to finish before they arrived. Sure enough, Will was packing up his truck. “Everything done?” She asked. “Yep. Right on time. I’ll be by tomorrow to get paid.”“Thanks. Yes. Tomorrow. I’ll have your money then.”“Fine. Good day,” he said, a funny smirk on his face as he closed the back of his vehicle. Laura shrugged. Hoisting her packages up into her arms, she trudged up the walk, and put the key in the lock. The smell of freshly painted walls hit her nose before she entered. Making a mental note to open all the doors and windows, no matter how cold it was outside, she stepped into the foyer. As she raised her gaze to the living room, the packages fell from her hands, and her mouth dropped open.Unable to breathe for a moment, her eyes wide, Laura staggered into the room, falling on the sofa. She blinked, rubbed her eyes and blinked again.
“Oh, no. He wouldn’t!” Oh, yes, he had. The room was painted a deep, vibrant red, not the light lemon yellow, with gold trim. She jumped up and ran outside, yelling. Will had thrown his truck in drive and was pulling away from the curb when she went running up to him. He rolled down the window. “Will Grant! You son-of-a-bitch! You painted the living room the wrong color!”“Did I?” He feigned an innocent look.“You know damn well you did! You get your butt in there and fix it this minute!”“Gee, sorry. I can’t do that. I have another job and I’m late now.” She yanked his arm, removing his hand from the wheel. “Why, Will? Why’d you do that?”“Scarlet, the color of a fallen woman.”“What?”“You’re sleepin’ with that rich guy. Just ‘cause he’s got money. How’s a poor guy like me gonna compete? Just want Mr. Money Bags to know, the minute he walks in, what kind of woman he’s dealin’ with. Red, the color of a whorehouse.”Reaching inside his cab, she slapped his face. “How dare you speak to me like that!”Rubbing his cheek, he responded, his voice softer. “I’ve loved you a lot longer than Money Bags. You never give me the time of day. Maybe now you’ll pay attention.”“How could you?” Her eyes watered.“What’s the matter? Ole Money Bags doesn’t like red?”“His whole house is done in subtle, elegant, subdued colors.”“Maybe now he’ll know what a spitfire he has in you.”“It’s awful. I hate it.”“Okay. After the holiday, I’ll repaint it. And even pay for the paint.”“That’ll be too late.”“Yeah? Like it’s too late for you and me.”“There’s never been anything between us, Will.”“Not for my lack of tryin’. You never give me a chance.”“We’re not meant to be. No chemistry. I’m sorry, Will. And now, well…”“As if I had a chance?”She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. And now you’ve hurt me. Craig’ll hate it.”“Too damn bad. Guess you’ll find out how much he really cares for you.”Will stepped on the gas. The truck lurched away from Laura. She watched for a few moments, then returned to her house. She plopped down on the sofa, her head in her hands. Muttering, “it’s hideous,” she cried.
**** 
Craig stood on the sidewalk in front of his townhouse, waiting for George to bring the car around. Preferring not to be conspicuous, Craig had purchased a Mercedes, not the Bentley, that had caught his eye. The shiny black car pulled up and double parked. The trunk popped open. Craig carried his luggage to the back, then went back for George’s modest bag. George put the vehicle in park and assisted his boss. Once they had everything packed in, Craig headed for the driver’s seat. “I’ll drive, George. You can navigate.”“As you wish. We certainly are bringing an inordinate amount of stuff. Will Miss Laura have room in her house of all this?”“It’s just the essentials. I mean, I could have brought another suitcase with books and music, you know.”“Heavens! She’d have to move out to make room,” George said. Craig smiled. “I know when you’re baiting me, George. I’ve finally figured you out.”“Damn. It’s such fun.”“Which way do I go, navigator?”George gave directions to the West Side highway, then pulled a map out of the glove compartment. “Let’s see, Pine Grove.”“Did you bring a magnifying glass?” Craig chuckled. “Small towns can be delightful.”“I know you came from a small town in England, but you been in New York for a long time.”“My heart will always rest in a quaint village.”“Don’t think you’ll get ‘quainter’ than Pine Grove.”“Really? You’ve been there?” George cocked an eyebrow. “I grew up not far from it. In Oak Bend. I don't remember much, but from the way Laura talks about it. Sounds nice.”Craig steered the car across the George Washington Bridge, then veered off right onto the Palisades Parkway. “Music?” George asked. Craig nodded. It was three days before Christmas. At ten o’clock, they were almost the only ones on the road. George put on Christmas music. Craig smiled. “Haven’t heard those songs in a while.”“Figured it would get you in the mood.”“Oh, I’m in the mood, George. Definitely in the mood.”“Not that mood! You’re always in that mood. I meant a bit of the Christmas spirit.”“Of course. Feel free to sing along. You have a good voice.”“Thank you. I believe I will,” George replied.George raised his voice along with “Joy to the World.” Craig smiled. Joy would be coming his way as soon as he reconnected with his beloved. “This is one of my favorites,” Craig said, as “Carol of the Bells” came on. The sky clouded over and the air got cooler. George turned up the heat a tad. “Clouds gathering,” George said.“Rain in the forecast?”“Not in Pine Grove. Snow, I believe.”Craig snorted his displeasure. “It’s northern country, sir. You’ll have to adjust.”“Damn. Why couldn’t we be visiting in the summer?”“Because Christmas falls in December,” George said, smiling. “You know, if I didn’t like you so much, George, you’re being right all the time could get very annoying.”“I’m sorry. It’s my nature.”“There you go again.”This time George laughed out loud.  Craig relaxed at the wheel, maneuvering the Mercedes around slower cars, speeding toward his destination. “Take it easy. We have plenty of time.”“I hope she’ll like my present. And that I can stand her house.”“I’m sure she’ll love her gift. As for her house, it’s a short stay and you’ll have to reach into your heart and tap into all the patience you can muster. It will be smaller. It won’t be as warm. And probably not as comfortable overall. I understand there’s only one bathroom and a powder room.”“How do people live like that?”“People live with a lot less. Get over it. At least there’s a powder room, too.”“Probably a double bed, not king.”“All the better to huddle together for warmth at night,” George remarked. “Your positive attitude is annoying, too.”“You used to live near her?” George changed the subject.“It was a lifetime ago.”“I see.” George settled back in his seat and stared out the window. Craig’s mind flipped back to the days gone by, when he was a boy, living with uncle C.W.  Christmas had been difficult in those hardscrabble days. When he was ten, he used to hitchhike into Pine Grove, to a place called “Santa’s Thrift Shop.” The woman who ran the place, Mrs. Davenport, allowed kids with no money to pick out items from her second-hand treasures to give as presents to their parents and siblings. The rule was that you weren’t supposed to take anything for yourself. A bright red yoyo had tempted Craig. He’d taken it, swearing it was for a brother he didn’t have. At home, he hid the treasure. He played with it a few times, after he’d finished his chores.Feeling guilty about having taken something for himself, he stopped using it, but still keeping it safely hidden. One night at dinner, Uncle C.W. had mentioned the store. “We’re not the poorest people in Oak Bend.”“We’re not?”“Nope. Half the kids in your school don’t have as much as you.”“Really?”“Really.” He reeled off the names of five boys Craig knew, and explained how Craig had a roof over his head, three squares a day, and a new pair of pants and two shirts at the start of school every year. Craig had no idea his classmates got by on less food and hand-me-downs. Guilt entered his heart. He took the yoyo to school the next day. Picking Ralph, the boy with the most deprivation, he presented him with his prize possession. The first thing Ralph did after he took a turn with the toy was give Craig a chance. They became best friends for the next eight years until Ralph went into the Army. Craig sighed, remembering. He’d vowed to himself that he’d never be poor as an adult. Uncle C.W. had worked and saved for years to launch a Wall Street career. Once he did, things soared and Craig never had to visit Santa’s Thrift Shop again. He used to send a check every holiday, but that had fallen by the wayside in recent years. Looks like it was time to renew the gift. After all, he’d already be in Pine Grove. The shop had taught him humility, or maybe it was Uncle C.W. To this day, Craig wondered how his uncle had found out about the yoyo. He’d have to remember to ask him, next time they were together. After stopping for lunch, Craig hit the gas pedal and zoomed toward tiny Pine Grove. With George manning the GPS, they got perfect directions to Laura’s house.
Excitement flooded his veins and sweat broke out under his arms. The little Victorian, painted blue, dripped with charm. A dollhouse. He chuckled to himself. George rang the bell. Laura opened the door and stepped back to let them pass. The smell of fresh paint greeted his nose. He peeked from the foyer into the living room. Good grief, red?
***************************
Comments are welcome! Episode Seven comes tomorrow!
CLICK HERE FOR EPISODES 1-5
In the meantime, if you want to read the first book, "The House-Sitter's Christmas", a sweet fairy tale holiday romance, here's how to get it. It's even in large print (great gift for those with visual issues) and on audio with dual narrators! 


AMAZON UShttps://www.amazon.com/dp/B075ZQ7BJS
AMAZON U.K.https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B075ZQ7BJS
AMAZON CAhttps://www.amazon.ca/dp/B075ZQ7BJS
AMAZON AUhttps://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B075ZQ7BJS
BARNES & NOBLEhttps://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-house-sitters-christmas-jean-c-joachim/1127167664;jsessionid=31E77D02363D1668FAB11697A3F0652F.prodny_store01-atgap04?ean=2940154957455
AMAZON INhttps://www.amazon.in/dp/B075ZQ7BJS
KOBOhttps://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/the-house-sitter-s-christmas

ITUNES/APPLEhttps://itunes.apple.com/us/book/id1290885430
GOOGLEPLAYhttps://play.google.com/store/books/details/Jean_Joachim_The_House_Sitter_s_Christmas?id=zt83DwAAQBAJ

PAPERBACKhttps://www.createspace.com/7631470
AUDIOhttps://www.audible.com/pd/Romance/The-House-Sitters-Christmas-A-Romantic-Fairy-Tale-Audiobook/B0772WKRLG/
LARGE PRINT
https://www.amazon.com/dp/1979801150/

THE HOUSE-SITTER'S COUNTRY CHRISTMAS EPISODES 1-5

INTRODUCTION
   Laura Fleming's story began last December. It was revealed an episode a day throughout the month. Response to the story was so great, and everyone wanted to know how it ended, so it became a book.    About a month ago, Laura's story, The House-Sitter's Christmas, was published. But that wasn't good enough. People were complaining that it was too short. They wanted to know more. What happened to Laura after Christmas?    So, dear reader, I will be telling the next "episode" of Laura's life here, as The House-Sitter's Country Christmas, a sequel, an episode a day for the month of December, ending before Christmas. This time, I promise, I won't wait a year to bring out the book and reveal the ending of the story.       Until then, please tune in every day for a new episode of Laura Fleming's life. Welcome also, C.W. Craig Banley, George, and Jasper...thank you so much for your keen interest. Without you, this story would not exist. 
P.S. Please note that these episodes are not yet edited, but the book will be. Thank you for stopping by.
Scroll down for episode two...

THE HOUSE-SITTER’S COUNTRY CHRISTMAS
EPISODE ONE
His words rang in her ears, “Let’s go to your house over the holidays.” Laura shuddered at the memory. How could she have C.W. “Craig” Banley to her humble home in Pine Grove? Her small three-bedroom abode would never provide the comfort and luxury of Craig’s grand townhouse in New York City. They had settled into a routine of her had been visiting him two weekends a month for the past year. Gradually, he had made a place for her in his palace. At first, it was simply one drawer in the antique chest in his bedroom. Then it was one drawer and a few hangers. Now, he’d moved his off-season clothing into a cedar closet in the attic and given her half the space, plus two drawers in the chest.When he got annoyed or angry, he’d trudge up the stairs, mumbling how moving his things all over the place wasn’t worth it. Invariably, after a short cooling off period, he’d return in a conciliatory mood. The first time he lost his temper with her, he’d shut himself in his study. She’d immediately climbed the stairs and packed her bag, assuming their relationship had come to an end.  When he’d emerged to see her at the front hall closet, donning her coat, her suitcase at her side, he was horrified. Begging her forgiveness, he explained that he had a bad temper, inherited from a host of ancestors, and could she forgive him? “You mean it’s not over between us?”“Oh my God, no. Not on my part. No, no, no, and no. Please don’t leave, Laura.”Relief had soared through her veins as tears had clouded her eyes.  She’d clung to him closing her eyes, believing his words that a rich and powerful man, like him, could adore an ordinary woman like her. His cross words forgotten, he’d led her by the hand, back to the bedroom. She had managed to unpack before his eased her down on the bed and made love to her. Thinking back now, she had to chuckle. It was true what they said about make-up sex.   Laura hadn’t lived with a man since she’d been married, and that hadn’t worked out. Craig could be moody at times. Mostly he was quiet, sweet, and protective. He’d chastised her more than once for opening the front door, without checking to see who had come knocking. Laura toted her laptop with her on the bus to the City so she could continue teaching her writing classes from his house, using the guestroom as her office. Because Laura liked to cook, Craig had given Maeve the weekends off. During the week, she’d spend time at home, poring over cookbooks, searching for new recipes to seduce Craig’s taste buds. She’d command his kitchen, producing new concoctions to perfection. Tossing her head, she cleared her mind of the memories of the townhouse and stared glumly at her own place. What she had considered shabby chic, now simply appeared shabby. The living room desperately needed a new coat of paint. Her quilted bedspread had faded in the sunlight. Furnished with prized garage-sale finds, her house couldn’t compete with Craig’s, brimming with fine antiques in burnished mahogany, and emerald and ruby silks. Plopping down on her comfy, discount-store, sectional sofa, she rested her chin in her hands. How could she let Craig come to her house for Christmas? They’d miss all the beautiful and sentimental holiday celebrations in the City. What would they have in Pine Grove, a nighttime hayride? She frowned. She’d been saving her inheritance for retirement, but it looked like she’d have to dip into it now, if she wanted her home to be presentable for his majesty, C. W. Banley.  She picked up the phone and called her friend, Jess Lennox. “Hey, Jess. What’s Will doing?”“Working, I guess.”“Can he squeeze me in? I’ve got a rush job.” “What’s the job?”“Turn my shack into a palace.”Jess laughed. “I’ll tell him.”Laura hung up the phone. It was the first day of December. She still had a couple of weeks to get the place in shape. She wandered through the small dining room to the back of the house. The picture window, divided into many small panes of glass, looked out over her backyard. She owned an acre that abutted state forest land in the back. She’d spent many an hour on the small deck or standing where she was now, watching the wildlife. Bears had lumbered by. Deer silently stole through, searching for food. A wily fox would sneak across the lawn, tracking a wary squirrel and, of course, the wild turkeys –her biggest chuckle of them all. How would Craig feel about the animals? They’d have to bring Jasper with them, but what would happen if he got outside? Her brow creased at the thought of him becoming lunch for a coyote. Her phone rang. It was Will Lennox. “You wanna fix that place up, Laura?”“Yep. How fast and how much?”“Depends. I’ll be over tonight to take a look.”He hung up. She sighed and headed for the kitchen. Will loved her butter cookies. She’d whip up a batch in the hopes of softening him up. She needed expert work and quickly. Before gathering the ingredients, she gazed at the room. It would never do. A fraction of the size of Craig’s and so poorly equipped. She’d made do with second-hand gadgets, china, and utensils for so long, she’d never noticed how ramshackle everything had become. She eased down on a chair at the table. Perhaps it was time Mr. Banley got to see the real Laura Fleming. Was she like a poor, downtrodden dog or cat he’d rescued? Maybe. Would he be horrified and walk away? Would this be their last time together?
**** 
Craig stood at the front window, coffee cup in hand. George sat on the sofa behind him. “We’re going to Pine Grove for Christmas?” George asked.“That’s right. You’ve canceled our appointments in Italy and France?”“I have. We’re rescheduled for January.”“Excellent.”“Why Pine Grove?”“It’s where Laura lives.”“Oh, of course. I forgot. You’re staying at her house?”“And you are, too. I’m looking forward to it.”“You in the country? Are you sure?”“Of course, I’m sure. Any place Laura loves must be special.”“You mean, because you love her, you’ll love whatever she loves?”“Something like that.”George snorted. Craig faced his friend and right-hand man. “You don’t agree?”“You and the country? It’s laughable.”Craig bristled. “I used to live in the country. When I was a boy. With Uncle C.W.”“How many years ago was that?”“Plenty,” Craig said turning toward the street. People bustled down 81st toward the subway. “I don’t mean to insult you, Craig, but you won’t have all the comforts of home there.”“But I’ll have Laura there.”“That you will.”“And I’ll be patient. I’ll understand. I’m not stupid. I know it’s different. I know she can’t afford a place like this. It’s okay. We’ll be roughing it for a few days. Do us both good.”“I’m not the problem. I’ve been ‘roughing it’ all my life. I’m sure the house is lovely. She has exquisite taste.”“Of course, she does. She picked me, didn’t she?”George laughed. “No one ever accused you of having low self-esteem.”“Why should I? Look what I’ve accomplished. Besides, I’m not a bad-looking fellow, reasonable sense of humor, and I’m kind to children and animals.”George laughed. “Indeed. You certainly are all those things. And more, Craig.”“And now I’m the luckiest man in the world, because I have the best woman there is.”“I’ll agree there.”Craig turned his gaze to George and wrinkled his brow. “What about you, George?”“What about me?”“You don’t have a woman.”“Are you sure about that?”“Well? Do you?”George trained his gaze on the floor before meeting Craig’s again. “No.”“Okay then. Maybe there’s a female in the country who would suit you. I’ll ask Laura.”George raised his palms. “Don’t do that! Really. I’m fine. I had the best, she died, I have my children and I’m content.”“Content, perhaps, but unfulfilled.”“Unfulfilled? With my work with you? Hardly. And we traipse all over the world, too.”“I was trying to be polite, George,” Craig said. “I know your dislike for bad language.”“Exactly what did you mean by unfulfilled?”“I meant horny, George. Horny.”“Oh, I see. Well, I guess I can’t argue with you there.”“Good. On my wish list for our country Christmas is getting you laid.”“Now wait a minute, Craig. Hold your horses.” “All I want for you is a happy holiday, George. And, believe me, some good sex in your stocking is just the gift to make you smile,” Craig said, chuckling. “You’re having fun at my expense, aren’t you?”“Have to seize the opportunity. It doesn’t happen every day.”George grinned. “True.”“If Laura found some nice older lady for you, would that be bad?”“Not too much older.”“George!”His assistant chuckled. “I’ll pick my own women. Thank you, but I don’t need any help with that.”“Really? You’re doing a lousy job.”“How can you say that?”Craig placed his hand on George’s forearm. “Because you’re alone. I want better for you.” “I thank you. But I’m okay. I’m not opposed to make a new, uh, friend. But I’m not unhappy the way I am.”“Yeah, I thought the same thing. Now look at me. I smile all the time.”“You never thought the same thing. You were miserable without a woman. And not just a one-night stand. Though Lord knows you’ve had plenty of those.”Craig laughed. “I sure have, haven’t I?”“It’s nothing to be proud of. There are words for that kind of man.”“Lucky?” Craig laughed. “Stop baiting me. We have work to do,” George said, rising.“I have to buy country clothes. Hmm. Where do I go for that?”“Not in New York City, surely. How about the L.L. Bean catalog?“Perfect! George, you’re a wonder.”“I’ll pull it up online. Best not to waste time. With it being the holidays, who knows how long it will take to get here?”“Right.”The two men refilled their mugs from the fresh pot Maeve made and adjourned to the study. George opened the laptop and brought up the catalog online. Craig stared out the window for a moment. George had hit on a sore point. Could he, Craig, the comfort king, put up with the realities of the country? He’d soon find out.


****************************

EPISODE TWO


At five, Laura opened the door to let Will Lennox in. He wiped his shoes on the mat, then entered.“Something smells good.”“Your favorites. Butter cookies.”“Really? You made those just for me?”She nodded. He sidled up to her.“You know I’d rather have a date with you then all the cookies in the world.”She backed up. “We’ve been over that, Will. I’m too old for you and now I have a boyfriend.”“Who? That rich guy you house-sit for?”“C. W. Banley. That’s right.”“He’s pretty fancy for a country girl like you.”“Maybe. Anyway, he’s coming to visit and I need to get this place fixed up.”“Not fancy enough for Mr. Moneybags?”“It’s not that,” she said, fidgeting and lowering her glance. “It’s just that there are some thing that need fixin’. Have for a long time. Now I’ve got a little money, I thought I’d get it done.”“What did you have in mind?”“Why don’t you have a cookie and we’ll talk about it,” Laura said, guiding him into the kitchen. She pulled out paper and pen while Will started on the baked goods.“Painting the living room. Maybe the bedroom, too? Fixing the stair on the back steps. The dripping faucet in the bathroom. Hmm…” she said, putting the  pen in her mouth.“That shutter on the front left is hanging a little. Looks like the dining room could use a new coat of paint, too.”“You’re right.” She poured a glass of milk. “Here you go. How much is this all going to cost, Will?”“Now if we were datin’, I could cut you a deal. But since we’re not, it’s gonna be the regular price.”Laura agreed to pay his asking price and they settled on a start day. Afterward she let out a breath. At least it would be starting soon. Maybe these cosmetic fixes would be enough to make the place look much better.She chewed her lip and headed for the living room. Might as well get the place straightened up. She had her knitting on the sofa, and three books piled on an end table. As she found new, out-of-sight places for her things, she shook her head. Nothing would make this place within spitting distance of the elegant abode of Mr. C.W. Banley.Will had put it well.“Don’t know what you need to fancy this place up for. If Mr. High-and-Mighty doesn’t like it, he and go suck an egg. If he don’t like your place, then he don’t like you, Laura.”She wondered about that. She clenched her jaw. Would Craig be obnoxious about her lower station in life? How many women could he find who weren’t less well off than he? Not many, she imagined. She plunked down in a chair by the stone fireplace. Her shoulders sagged.No amount of paint would cover up or wash away the differences between her and Craig Banley. He was up there and she was down here. But he’d never rubbed her nose in it. In fact, he’d been most generous. A small smiled played at her lips. People of Pine Grove might be like Will Lennox, with a chip on their shoulders.Her father always said that if you feel second class, then you are second class. But if your attitude says high class, then you are –and not in a snobby way. She figured it was his way of saying she should respect herself, the kind of person she is and what she’s doing with her life.  Of course, Craig would respect that and her, if she respected herself.She grinned, grateful for her father’s wisdom. She rose up and gathered her belongings, transferring them to an out of the way place. Just getting rid of the clutter would make the house closer to Mr. Banley’s, so she’d start there.New color on the walls, fixed back step be damned. If C.W. Banley doesn't love her for who she is, then he wouldn’t be worth a plug nickel. Making up her mind about it, eased her heart a bit. Maybe if she’d show him the poise and elegance of a country girl, he’d stay in love with her ‘till the end. Maybe

**** 
Back in Manhattan, George hustled to the front door to answer the insistent ringing of the bell.“I’m coming, I’m coming. Patience!” He called out.An electronic gadget was thrust into his face after he opened the door.“Sign here, buddy,” the delivery man said.George eyed the two large boxes and shook his head. He penned his name, thanked the man and lugged them inside.He opened the study door. “Your clothing is here.”Craig looked up from the computer, where he was studying an Excel spreadsheet. “Oh, good. Let’s see if the stuff fits.”The two men hauled the packages up to the bedroom.George pulled out shirt after shirt. “How much did you buy?” “We’re going to be there for ten days, George. Man has to look his best for his woman.”“Yes, only ten days.”“I’ll need a fresh shirt every day.”“And pants?”“Never know what mess I might get into.”“I doubt she’ll have room for all this. I’m sure she has a modest house.”“You’re such a killjoy, George. Did I ever tell you that?”George made a face. “With this wardrobe, she’ll think you’re moving in for good.”Craig snorted. “Very funny.”“We can leave some in the trunk of the car, I suppose,” George said, rubbing his chin.“Good idea. We’ll pack two suitcases, five days’ worth each. Then switch.”George shook his head slowly. “You pack like a girl.”“What?”“Only women take so many things with them.”“I resent that. I don’t want to look like a slob in front of Laura. What if I spill something? How can I wear that again the next day.”“You haven’t heard of washing machines?”“We’re not taking Maeve.”“You might consider learning to do your own laundry.”“Why? I did it for years and now I don’t have to.”“Spoiled child,” George muttered as he pulled down two large valises from the closet shelf.The men packed up the new clothing in two suitcases.“I’m going shopping this afternoon, George. You can take the afternoon off.”“What about the Excelsior contract?”“I’ll go over it tonight, after dinner. Take some time. Take off tomorrow morning, too,” Craig said, patting the older man’s shoulder.“Buying a gift for your uncle?”“Old C.W.? He doesn’t need anything. I’m going to send him a case of crème de cassis and white wine. My buddy, Pierre, in Dijon is taking care of it.”“I understand he wasn’t too thrilled with the mustard sampler you sent from Dijon last year.”“Ungrateful man! It’s the finest mustard in the world.”“I’m sure this year’s gift will be more to his liking.”“He’ll have the finest Kir in the world, to seduce his young woman,” Craig said, with a short laugh.“And you?”“I’ve got a bottle of each for my lady, too.”“Good thinking.” George smiled.Craig shrugged on his overcoat and headed for the street. Christmas shopping was on his mind. He needed something wonderful for Laura. That would be easy. A small jewelry shop on Broadway had many elegant pieces in the window. But what should he get for George? Every year he bought his right-hand man something fabulous. This year, he was out of ideas.   The best gift would be a woman of his own. But how could Craig do that? It’s not like there was a girlfriend store and you simply went in and placed your order for a blonde, brunette or redhead. He’d have to consult with Laura.He dialed as he crossed Columbus Avenue.“Laura? Hello, darling I have a special request. And I need your help.”

Comments are welcome! Episode Three comes tomorrow!

In the meantime, if you want to read the first book, "The House-Sitter's Christmas", a sweet fairy tale holiday romance, here's how to get it. It's even in large print (great gift for those with visual issues) and on audio with dual narrators! 





AMAZON UShttps://www.amazon.com/dp/B075ZQ7BJS
AMAZON U.K.https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B075ZQ7BJS
AMAZON CAhttps://www.amazon.ca/dp/B075ZQ7BJS
AMAZON AUhttps://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B075ZQ7BJS
BARNES & NOBLEhttps://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-house-sitters-christmas-jean-c-joachim/1127167664;jsessionid=31E77D02363D1668FAB11697A3F0652F.prodny_store01-atgap04?ean=2940154957455


AMAZON INhttps://www.amazon.in/dp/B075ZQ7BJS
KOBOhttps://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/the-house-sitter-s-christmas

ITUNES/APPLEhttps://itunes.apple.com/us/book/id1290885430
GOOGLEPLAYhttps://play.google.com/store/books/details/Jean_Joachim_The_House_Sitter_s_Christmas?id=zt83DwAAQBAJ

PAPERBACKhttps://www.createspace.com/7631470
AUDIOhttps://www.audible.com/pd/Romance/The-House-Sitters-Christmas-A-Romantic-Fairy-Tale-Audiobook/B0772WKRLG/
LARGE PRINT
https://www.amazon.com/dp/1979801150/

THE HOUSE-SITTER'S COUNTRY CHRISTMAS STARTS DEC. 1

INTRODUCTION
   Laura Fleming's story began last December. It was revealed an episode a day throughout the month. Response to the story was so great, and everyone wanted to know how it ended, so it became a book.    About a month ago, Laura's story, The House-Sitter's Christmas, was published. But that wasn't good enough. People were complaining that it was too short. They wanted to know more. What happened to Laura after Christmas?    So, dear reader, I will be telling the next "episode" of Laura's life here, as The House-Sitter's Country Christmas, a sequel, an episode a day for the month of December, ending before Christmas. This time, I promise, I won't wait a year to bring out the book and reveal the ending of the story.       Until then, please tune in every day for a new episode of Laura Fleming's life. Welcome also, C.W. Craig Banley, George, and Jasper...thank you so much for your keen interest. Without you, this story would not exist. 
P.S. Please note that these episodes are not yet edited, but the book will be. Thank you for stopping by.
THE HOUSE-SITTER’S COUNTRY CHRISTMAS
EPISODE ONE
His words rang in her ears, “Let’s go to your house over the holidays.” Laura shuddered at the memory. How could she have C.W. “Craig” Banley to her humble home in Pine Grove? Her small three-bedroom abode would never provide the comfort and luxury of Craig’s grand townhouse in New York City. They had settled into a routine of her had been visiting him two weekends a month for the past year. Gradually, he had made a place for her in his palace. At first, it was simply one drawer in the antique chest in his bedroom. Then it was one drawer and a few hangers. Now, he’d moved his off-season clothing into a cedar closet in the attic and given her half the space, plus two drawers in the chest.When he got annoyed or angry, he’d trudge up the stairs, mumbling how moving his things all over the place wasn’t worth it. Invariably, after a short cooling off period, he’d return in a conciliatory mood. The first time he lost his temper with her, he’d shut himself in his study. She’d immediately climbed the stairs and packed her bag, assuming their relationship had come to an end.  When he’d emerged to see her at the front hall closet, donning her coat, her suitcase at her side, he was horrified. Begging her forgiveness, he explained that he had a bad temper, inherited from a host of ancestors, and could she forgive him? “You mean it’s not over between us?”“Oh my God, no. Not on my part. No, no, no, and no. Please don’t leave, Laura.”Relief had soared through her veins as tears had clouded her eyes.  She’d clung to him closing her eyes, believing his words that a rich and powerful man, like him, could adore an ordinary woman like her. His cross words forgotten, he’d led her by the hand, back to the bedroom. She had managed to unpack before his eased her down on the bed and made love to her. Thinking back now, she had to chuckle. It was true what they said about make-up sex.   Laura hadn’t lived with a man since she’d been married, and that hadn’t worked out. Craig could be moody at times. Mostly he was quiet, sweet, and protective. He’d chastised her more than once for opening the front door, without checking to see who had come knocking. Laura toted her laptop with her on the bus to the City so she could continue teaching her writing classes from his house, using the guestroom as her office. Because Laura liked to cook, Craig had given Maeve the weekends off. During the week, she’d spend time at home, poring over cookbooks, searching for new recipes to seduce Craig’s taste buds. She’d command his kitchen, producing new concoctions to perfection. Tossing her head, she cleared her mind of the memories of the townhouse and stared glumly at her own place. What she had considered shabby chic, now simply appeared shabby. The living room desperately needed a new coat of paint. Her quilted bedspread had faded in the sunlight. Furnished with prized garage-sale finds, her house couldn’t compete with Craig’s, brimming with fine antiques in burnished mahogany, and emerald and ruby silks. Plopping down on her comfy, discount-store, sectional sofa, she rested her chin in her hands. How could she let Craig come to her house for Christmas? They’d miss all the beautiful and sentimental holiday celebrations in the City. What would they have in Pine Grove, a nighttime hayride? She frowned. She’d been saving her inheritance for retirement, but it looked like she’d have to dip into it now, if she wanted her home to be presentable for his majesty, C. W. Banley.  She picked up the phone and called her friend, Jess Lennox. “Hey, Jess. What’s Will doing?”“Working, I guess.”“Can he squeeze me in? I’ve got a rush job.” “What’s the job?”“Turn my shack into a palace.”Jess laughed. “I’ll tell him.”Laura hung up the phone. It was the first day of December. She still had a couple of weeks to get the place in shape. She wandered through the small dining room to the back of the house. The picture window, divided into many small panes of glass, looked out over her backyard. She owned an acre that abutted state forest land in the back. She’d spent many an hour on the small deck or standing where she was now, watching the wildlife. Bears had lumbered by. Deer silently stole through, searching for food. A wily fox would sneak across the lawn, tracking a wary squirrel and, of course, the wild turkeys –her biggest chuckle of them all. How would Craig feel about the animals? They’d have to bring Jasper with them, but what would happen if he got outside? Her brow creased at the thought of him becoming lunch for a coyote. Her phone rang. It was Will Lennox. “You wanna fix that place up, Laura?”“Yep. How fast and how much?”“Depends. I’ll be over tonight to take a look.”He hung up. She sighed and headed for the kitchen. Will loved her chocolate chip cookies. She’d whip up a batch in the hopes of softening him up. She needed expert work and quickly. Before gathering the ingredients, she gazed at the room. It would never do. A fraction of the size of Craig’s and so poorly equipped. She’d made do with second-hand gadgets, china, and utensils for so long, she’d never noticed how ramshackle everything had become. She eased down on a chair at the table. Perhaps it was time Mr. Banley got to see the real Laura Fleming. Was she like a poor, downtrodden dog or cat he’d rescued? Maybe. Would he be horrified and walk away? Would this be their last time together?
**** 
Craig stood at the front window, coffee cup in hand. George sat on the sofa behind him. “We’re going to Pine Grove for Christmas?” George asked.“That’s right. You’ve canceled our appointments in Italy and France?”“I have. We’re rescheduled for January.”“Excellent.”“Why Pine Grove?”“It’s where Laura lives.”“Oh, of course. I forgot. You’re staying at her house?”“And you are, too. I’m looking forward to it.”“You in the country? Are you sure?”“Of course, I’m sure. Any place Laura loves must be special.”“You mean, because you love her, you’ll love whatever she loves?”“Something like that.”George snorted. Craig faced his friend and right-hand man. “You don’t agree?”“You and the country? It’s laughable.”Craig bristled. “I used to live in the country. When I was a boy. With Uncle C.W.”“How many years ago was that?”“Plenty,” Craig said turning toward the street. People bustled down 81st toward the subway. “I don’t mean to insult you, Craig, but you won’t have all the comforts of home there.”“But I’ll have Laura there.”“That you will.”“And I’ll be patient. I’ll understand. I’m not stupid. I know it’s different. I know she can’t afford a place like this. It’s okay. We’ll be roughing it for a few days. Do us both good.”“I’m not the problem. I’ve been ‘roughing it’ all my life. I’m sure the house is lovely. She has exquisite taste.”“Of course, she does. She picked me, didn’t she?”George laughed. “No one ever accused you of having low self-esteem.”“Why should I? Look what I’ve accomplished. Besides, I’m not a bad-looking fellow, reasonable sense of humor, and I’m kind to children and animals.”George laughed. “Indeed. You certainly are all those things. And more, Craig.”“And now I’m the luckiest man in the world, because I have the best woman there is.”“I’ll agree there.”Craig turned his gaze to George and wrinkled his brow. “What about you, George?”“What about me?”“You don’t have a woman.”“Are you sure about that?”“Well? Do you?”George trained his gaze on the floor before meeting Craig’s again. “No.”“Okay then. Maybe there’s a female in the country who would suit you. I’ll ask Laura.”George raised his palms. “Don’t do that! Really. I’m fine. I had the best, she died, I have my children and I’m content.”“Content, perhaps, but unfulfilled.”“Unfulfilled? With my work with you? Hardly. And we traipse all over the world, too.”“I was trying to be polite, George,” Craig said. “I know your dislike for bad language.”“Exactly what did you mean by unfulfilled?”“I meant horny, George. Horny.”“Oh, I see. Well, I guess I can’t argue with you there.”“Good. On my wish list for our country Christmas is getting you laid.”“Now wait a minute, Craig. Hold your horses.” “All I want for you is a happy holiday, George. And, believe me, some good sex in your stocking is just the gift to make you smile,” Craig said, chuckling. “You’re having fun at my expense, aren’t you?”“Have to seize the opportunity. It doesn’t happen every day.”George grinned. “True.”“If Laura found some nice older lady for you, would that be bad?”“Not too much older.”“George!”His assistant chuckled. “I’ll pick my own women. Thank you, but I don’t need any help with that.”“Really? You’re doing a lousy job.”“How can you say that?”Craig placed his hand on George’s forearm. “Because you’re alone. I want better for you.” “I thank you. But I’m okay. I’m not opposed to make a new, uh, friend. But I’m not unhappy the way I am.”“Yeah, I thought the same thing. Now look at me. I smile all the time.”“You never thought the same thing. You were miserable without a woman. And not just a one-night stand. Though Lord knows you’ve had plenty of those.”Craig laughed. “I sure have, haven’t I?”“It’s nothing to be proud of. There are words for that kind of man.”“Lucky?” Craig laughed. “Stop baiting me. We have work to do,” George said, rising.“I have to buy country clothes. Hmm. Where do I go for that?”“Not in New York City, surely. How about the L.L. Bean catalog?“Perfect! George, you’re a wonder.”“I’ll pull it up online. Best not to waste time. With it being the holidays, who knows how long it will take to get here?”“Right.”The two men refilled their mugs from the fresh pot Maeve made and adjourned to the study. George opened the laptop and brought up the catalog online. Craig stared out the window for a moment. George had hit on a sore point. Could he, Craig, the comfort king, put up with the realities of the country? He’d soon find out.

Look for episode two tomorrow. Comments are welcome!

In the meantime, if you want to read the first book, "The House-Sitter's Christmas", a sweet fairy tale holiday romance, here's how to get it. It's even in large print (great gift for those with visual issues) and on audio with dual narrators! 





AMAZON UShttps://www.amazon.com/dp/B075ZQ7BJS
AMAZON U.K.https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B075ZQ7BJS
AMAZON CAhttps://www.amazon.ca/dp/B075ZQ7BJS
AMAZON AUhttps://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B075ZQ7BJS
BARNES & NOBLEhttps://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-house-sitters-christmas-jean-c-joachim/1127167664;jsessionid=31E77D02363D1668FAB11697A3F0652F.prodny_store01-atgap04?ean=2940154957455


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KOBOhttps://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/the-house-sitter-s-christmas

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GOOGLEPLAYhttps://play.google.com/store/books/details/Jean_Joachim_The_House_Sitter_s_Christmas?id=zt83DwAAQBAJ

PAPERBACKhttps://www.createspace.com/7631470
AUDIOhttps://www.audible.com/pd/Romance/The-House-Sitters-Christmas-A-Romantic-Fairy-Tale-Audiobook/B0772WKRLG/
LARGE PRINT
https://www.amazon.com/dp/1979801150/

FREE ON AMAZON! APRIL'S KISS IN THE MOONLIGHT

Free on Amazon until Nov. 13...sweet, clean romance 

Here's a sneak peek...
Chapter One

As April McKenna drove her small car around the bend and approached a tiny town, a good looking, big man with short, reddish brown hair stepped into the street and stuck out his thumb.“Yeah, right, Mr. Serial Killer, like I’m going to give you a ride,” she said aloud to herself, speeding up to pass him but unable to rip her gaze from his. She averted her eyes, trying to focus on sorting out her life. Driving the back roads from Willow Falls, NY to her home in San Francisco would give April time to think. She had finished her MBA and was heading back for an internship in her father’s company. The prelude to a staid, boring, corporate life worried her. The thought of such a future left her restless, unhappy. April didn’t want to go back, didn’t want to live her father’s life. She wanted to break out, but didn’t know how.  She’d always been a good girl, doing the right thing, exactly what her parents expected of her. With her mind occupied, she was driving on automatic pilot and noticed the glass scattered in the road too late. Her tire lasted another half mile before it blew. She pulled onto a muddy shoulder and got out of the car. She rummaged around in the car trunk having no idea where the spare tire or the jack were or even how to use them if she found them. She pulled out her cell phone only to remember she’d forgotten to recharge it before leaving school. Then she laughed when she realized there was no one to call anyway. You’re supposed to hang something white on the door handle when you need help. April returned to the car, took off her white lace panties, the only white object she had, hung them on the door handle, closed the door and waited. Only a few houses dotted the lonely country road, but acre after acre of green fields blossomed with ripe crops. Standing on tiptoe, she could barely make out a farmhouse in the distance. The tall corn stalks of late July blocked her car from view. Half an hour passed and no car came by. Was she about to spend the night there in her car? Then she saw him in the rear view mirror. It was Mr. Serial Killer, coming around the bend, and heading straight for her car. Panic rose in her chest as she locked all the doors and hunkered down.  He walked up to the car and knocked on the window, startling April, who jumped. When she turned to look, he was smiling.“Flat?” He asked.She nodded.“Pop the trunk.” He headed for the rear of the car.Can’t you get inside the car through the trunk? He could attack me...“Take it easy. I’m not a mass murderer. I’ll change your tire.” April unlatched the trunk. If she didn’t want to spend the night alone in the dark, accepting his help was her only choice. “Are these yours?” he asked, plucking her panties off the door handle and holding them up to the car window. The white lace bikinis appeared to shrink in his large hand.Heat seeped into April’s her face. Avoiding the stranger’s gaze, she cracked open the car window and snatched the garment from him. He laughed, shook his head and headed for the trunk, as she struggled to put them back on while sitting in the front seat.“It’s easier to jack up the car if you’re not in it.” Reluctantly, she got out of the car, keeping an eye on him and perched on a large rock hugging her knees to her chest. “Rusty,” he said, extending his hand after taking off his backpack.“April,” she responded, wrinkling her nose at the sight of the grime coating his hand.“Oh, yeah, sorry. Grease.” He wiped his hand on his jeans.He worked for forty-five minutes, jacking up the car then changing the tire. April watched in silence. As the sun beat down on him, he began to sweat. Rusty removed his T-shirt. April stared at his strong chest covered with reddish hair, feeling a desire to touch it. The muscles in his arms worked as he attached the jack and began to pump it up, moving the car higher and higher. He was tall, about six foot four inches, broad and strong. He shot her an easy grin from time to time.“What’s a beautiful girl like you doing stranded out here? Where you headed?” He asked, looking her over with appreciation in his eyes.“San Francisco. You?” She said, blushing slightly under his gaze.“I’ve got a week to get to Allentown for a job. At the rate I’m going, it’ll take me a week to walk it.” He worked the tire iron on the lug nuts.She laughed. “Why kind of job?”“Driving a truck to New York City and back. It pays well.”“You going to live in Allentown?”“Of course. Where are you coming from?”“Got my MBA from Kensington State University. Heading home.”“Going back to a job?”“Uh...an internship. But I don’t want to. I’m not sure what I want to do.”“After all that time with college and graduate school and you still don’t know what you want to do? Heck...a lot of money down the drain.” “Education doesn’t always tell you what you want to do in life.”“True enough. Still going home, eh?” He leaned against the car.“It’s expected.”“Car’s ready. You should replace the dead tire because if this one blows, you’re out of luck,” he pointed out, putting his shirt back on.“Thanks. Get in,” she said, standing up, and brushing herself off.“You giving me a ride?”She shrugged and gave a nod.“Well, I can promise not to strangle and murder you… but I might kiss you,” he said.“Thanks for fixing the tire. I’m taking you all the way to Allentown,” she said.“No way! You are? Fantastic.”“The least I can do…it’s not far out of my way and…I’m in no hurry.”“Up for a little journey?” he asked her with a wicked grin on his face.“Maybe.” She looked him over, thinking about his offer of adventure.“Let’s get some food. There’s a diner down the road a ways and I’m buying,” he said, holding the door open for her.She smiled up at him as he closed the car door.
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A don't-miss holiday book -- THE HOUSE-SITTER'S CHRISTMAS!

Here are some snippets from the book, some things Laura might see in NYC at Christmas time, and a few quotes from people who've read the book. The House-Sitter's Christmas, a sweet, romantic, contemporary fairytale novella. Enjoy! 
A Word from the AuthorThe House-Sitter’s Christmas is a romantic, holiday fairy tale. It was written originally as a romantic serial, with an episode released each day during the month of December. It’s not a chaptered novella or short story but consists of short episodes instead. There is an element of suspense woven into the fabric of this tale, as well.Although the story could continue, there is a happy ending. But those who know me, recognize that characters may stay with me, reappearing in additional books or short stories, sometimes a year or more later. I don’t swear that this is the final chapter for Laura and C.W.However, the ending wraps up the events in this novella. If you wish to have another story with these folks, please tell me. You can contact me by email (jean@nowandforeverbooks.com) or on Facebook and make your wishes known.I hope you enjoy this story. Thank you for reading my work.
Jean C. Joachim
Episode One

Laura Fleming’s pulse kicked up as the bus approached the Lincoln Tunnel. Something magical happened whenever she crossed over from upstate onto Manhattan Island. And, it being a week before Christmas only made it more fantastic. The Port Authority Bus Terminal was as bloated with people as usual. Mr. C. W. Banley had arranged for a car to pick her up. She was the hired help—the house-sitter, paid to keep his majestic townhouse occupied and to care for his cat while he traveled on business over the holidays. This was Laura’s third year house-sitting for C.W., as she affectionately referred to him—but never to his face. In fact, she’d never met him. What mattered was her chance to step into the ultimate Christmas fantasy, occupying a grand townhouse on West 81st Street for three delicious weeks.
************************** "This is a modern day romantic fantasy that spans continents, has terrifically drawn characters, and packs an unexpected punch. Don't worry, nothing about Christmas will be ruined for you. It's a sweet love story full of the Christmas spirit. Between now and Christmas if you want a quick, fun read, buy this, and buy copies for your friends for Christmas presents. P.S. I think the Hallmark Channel needs to make a movie from this book. " SL

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A man in a livery outfit stood on the crowded sidewalk, holding a sign that read Laura Fleming. She approached him, vouched for her identity, and slid into the comfortable vehicle. He closed the door, and they were off, wending their way through the dense, holiday traffic.
“First time in the City?” he asked, while they waited at a stop light.“Oh, no. I’ve been coming during the holidays for several years.”“It’s a beautiful, if crowded, time to be here.”“I love it. I live in the country. During the winter, I get cabin fever with all the snow and ice.”“You own a place here too?”She laughed, her light brown hair swinging with the motion. “Oh, no. I could never afford that. I’m the house-sitter.”“Now that’s a great gig!”“You bet it is,” she agreed. Laura looked out the window as the chauffeur maneuvered his way through congested Amsterdam Avenue. All the restaurants, and even the delis, had strings of Christmas lights. She raised her gaze to the apartment buildings and spied many with holiday decorations or elaborately decorated trees in the windows.He pulled up to the gorgeous, Neo-Renaissance townhouse. The driver set her small suitcase on the sidewalk. He refused a tip, saying he’d already been paid, then handed her a sealed envelope. Laura gazed at the beautiful, cream-colored building with windows lined in black. A large, circular, black, wrought iron staircase beckoned her.
The winter sky turned teal blue as the sun set. She climbed the steps to the carved, wooden door. A wreath of evergreens, red berries, and pine cones hung there, welcoming her. The sharp wind penetrated her coat, making her shiver. She ripped open the envelope and retrieved the front door key. She smiled. Mr. Banley was a bear about security and would never leave a key under a mat. Eager to get to the antique pot of hot chocolate Maeve, the housekeeper, always left for her on the little wooden table by the fireplace in the study, Laura wondered if there would be a chocolate croissant, or a scone, waiting too. She licked her lips as she crossed the threshold into luxury she could only dream about.
*************************** "A perfect sweet romantic fairy tale for the holiday, with suspense, a bit of danger and a thrilling rescue... what's not to love? Laura and Craig were destined to find each other, through the missteps and loneliness, and with the help of friends and a bit of technology. Great read. Well done."  BBB

"OMG this is a very quick and beautiful read. Jean made me feel like i was there with the character Laura and C.W.. This book is definitely a book you can't pass up." SH

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The House-Sitter's Christmas is available in ebook, paperback and audio (with dual voices!). Find it here: 

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