Jamie DeBree's Blog, page 73
December 7, 2010
Serial Novel: The Biker's Wench, Chapter 27
Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7| Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 |Ch. 11 | Ch. 12 | Ch. 13| Ch. 14 |Ch. 15 |Ch. 16 |Ch. 17 |Ch. 18 |Ch. 19 |Ch. 20 | Ch. 21 | Ch. 22 | Ch. 23 | Ch. 24 | Ch. 25| Ch. 26
The Biker's Wench
Chapter 27
Monica kept her hands on the wall to steady herself, straightening on shaky legs. Harly cussed a few more times under his breath, and she straightened her skirt, knowing she should do...something, but not wanting to just walk away. She knew he hadn't forgotten the condom on purpose, but there wasn't really anything to say. It wasn't okay, and she found herself shaking at the thought of what could happen. She needed to get away. To be alone. To clean up.
Clearing her throat, she forced herself to look at him. Braced for anger, she was unprepared for the raw fear and anguise reflected in his face. Fighting the urge to reach out and pull him into her arms, she swallowed hard. "I know you didn't mean to. It's not a good time anyway, so maybe nothing will happen. I...I need a shower."
"Monica..." he reached for her, but she stepped around him, walking quickly toward the bedroom. It would be okay. It had to be.
Stepping into the shower she reached for the soap, hesitating before she pressed it against her skin. His scent clung to her, and as much as she didn't want to be pregnant, she also didn't want to wash the early, masculine scent away. She closed her eyes, breathing in deeply before finally lathering ample suds over her breasts, her stomach, and between her legs. She knew there was no going back now, no way to take back what had happened. But she did a thorough job anyway, then stood underneath the hot stream, trying to hold back the tears.
It was obvious from his reaction that Harley didn't want her any longer than she had to stay, and who could blame him? But she couldn't dwell on that now. The only way to put an end to this and give him back his freedom was to find out what her father was hiding, and put him away for good. Somehow she'd find a way to pay Harley back for going through all this with her - it was the least she could do.
Turning off the water she stepped out and wrapped a towel around herself. Quickly dressing in the jeans and sweater she'd worn earlier, she took a deep breath and went to find Harley. In all the confusion, she hadn't told him what she saw in the apartment building, and they needed to talk about what to do next.
She sensed the suite was empty as she walked down the hall, but checked in all the main rooms just in case. He must have gone back upstairs to her father's company dinner - she'd forgotten he was supposed to attend in all the chaos. There was a shiny key laying on the counter, with her name on a note underneath. Slipping it into her pocket, she let herself out, determined to find him and tell him what she'd seen.
Half-way to the elevators, she heard a sound from the other end of the hall. Betsy's apartment was that way, and Monica decided to go thank her for the clothes. As she got closer she could see the other woman's profile as she leaned against the wall, shoes in hand. It sounded like she was crying.
"Betsy? Are you okay?" Monica asked, frowning at the flushed skin and streaked mascara on Betsy's face as Harley's sister nodded.
"I...yes," Betsy said with a nervous laugh, blinking quickly. "Just some guy trouble. You know how men are."
Monica nodded.
"Yes I do," she said quietly. "Come on, let's talk." She continued down the hall, hearing Betsy follow a few steps behind.
"It's kind of messy," she said, sliding the key into the lock. I've been working extra shifts lately, and--" She stopped abruptly, looking down at the floor. "What's this?" Monica glanced down to see a manilla envelope with a brass clasp.
Monica shrugged. "Were you expecting something?" Betsy turned the envelop over, but there was no address.
"No," she said, bending the metal tabs up and lifting the flap. "I thought maybe you left it - no one else is supposed to be down here, not even the staff." She held the sides apart and looked inside. Sliding out a single piece of paper, she stared at it for a long moment.
Monica reached for the page, gasping at the image of Betsy on it. Disturbing didn't really do justice to the photo - someone must really hate her. "Lock the--wait, this was inside the door, right?" Betsy nodded, still stunned. "Come on," Monica said, grabbing her hand and tugging her quickly back out into the hall. She slammed the door behind them and pulled Betsy back down the hall. "Whoever left that could still be in there...we need to call Harley."
December 6, 2010
Weekly News & Goals - 12/6/10
Whew! As I write this, the weekend is pretty well over and I'm finally feeling better after a bout with some sort of stomach bug. I haven't been sick in so long I forgot how annoying it is – so I'm grateful this was a quick moving thing. My only regret is that it happened over the weekend...would have been so much more convenient during the work week...
Congratulations again to Carol and Brooklyn for winning ebooks from Karen Fenech last week! She's a great writer, and I'm sure you'll love her books, but more than that, she's a great person to talk to, so I hope you'll all look her up on Twitter | Facebook and get to know her.
That post may or may not have been responsible for at least one reading binge...the J.R.Ward Black Dagger Brotherhood series was mentioned several times.
Anyways.
Thursdays are going to be changing around here in January, with the advent of a new collaborative blog project I'm working on with another yet-to-be-named author. The subject matter is something I think both readers and writers will find interesting, and the format one that should really encourage good dialogue and thought. More on that soon...
This Week on The Variety Pages
Tuesday: Ch. 27 of The Biker's Wench
Wednesday: Everyday Romance – Happy to be Single
Friday: Ch. 28 of The Biker's Wench
Thursday at Beyond the Words : Media Kits – Author Bios
For information on my pen name projects, check out Snake Bites , the BSB blog.
Goal Reports
For writing, I didn't exactly stay ahead of my serials last week, but I did stay caught up, which was good. The edits for Desert Heat are coming right along, and I did indeed post at the writing notes blog about my juggling act. I ended the week right where I should be, which makes me happy and motivated.
The business and personal goals didn't fare so well, unfortunately. It's my own fault (isn't it always?), though I would have gotten a lot more done this weekend had I been feeling better. C'est la vie...must keep moving forward.
Goals for the Week
Writing
Two scenes for The Biker's Wench
Two scenes for erotica serial
One scene for the serial thriller
One scene for The Minister's Maid
As much editing as possible on Desert Heat
Business
Build blog for serial thriller
Finish off cafe press store and link
Tweet out a couple Tempest freebie codes
Personal
Buy a new, smaller Christmas tree to set up.
Finish whatever decorating I'm going to do.
Try to catch up on laundry.
Write family Christmas newsletter for cards.
That's more than enough for me – what's on your plate this week? Have you sent out Christmas cards yet? Is your tree up (or do you have one)?
December 3, 2010
Serial Novel: The Biker's Wench, Chapter 26
This serial novel is posted in draft form every Tuesday and Friday.
Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7| Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 |Ch. 11 | Ch. 12 | Ch. 13| Ch. 14 |Ch. 15 |Ch. 16 |Ch. 17 |Ch. 18 |Ch. 19 |Ch. 20 | Ch. 21 | Ch. 22 | Ch. 23 | Ch. 24 | Ch. 25
The Biker's Wench
Chapter 26
Monica's soft words tore at Harley's controlled facade. Forcing himself not to turn around, he kept his back to her until a tentative hand slid down his shoulder blade to the small of his back. Her touch was like a spark to the smouldering fire just underneath his skin, and when she came around to face him with wide, fearful eyes he couldn't hold back any longer.
Grabbing her arms he hauled her up against him, kissing her lips, her jaw, her forehead, her neck. Her scent intoxicated him, warm and sweet even though the scent of stale beer lingered in the background. She shuddered as he suckled the spot where her neck and shoulder met, her hands sliding up his chest to the top button of his shirt. Exploring her smooth skin inch by inch, he slowly worked lower, tracing the low-cut neckline down to where her clevage began. Reaching behind the thin fabric he lifted one perfect breast, running his thumb over the taunt peak several times before he moved to the other. Suckling both briefly, he straightened, moving half-a-step back as she slid his shirt off his shoulders and down his arms.
"You're beautiful like that," he said, staring at her lovely round globes supported by the snug corset and framed by the edges of her shirt collar. Raising his stare he looked into her eyes, glassy with arousal. "I'll accept your apology on two conditions," he said, cupping the side of her face with one hand. "First, you stop fighting me. If we're gonna get through this and beat your father at his own game, we need to work as a team. No more running off, no secrets. Agreed?"
She nodded. "Agreed. And the second?"
He let his fingers drift down her neck, across her chest and over each breast in turn, rolling the pert tips between his thumb and forefinger. "On your knees, wench."
Harley could tell his words chafed, but he merely raised his eyebrows as she stared up at him. He knew the only reason she was resisting was because it had been a demand rather than a request. Judging from the flush of her skin and those huge, dialated eyes, she wanted it just as much as he did. But did she want it bad enough?
Slowly she eased down in front of him, reaching out to unsnap his jeans. He nearly sighed in relief when she unzipped his pants and took him in hand. Leaning forward, she slowly ran her tongue over the tight flesh, then looked up at him as she sucked him into her mouth. The sight of her pretty lips framing his cock sent heat spiraling through his balls, and he ran his fingers through her hair as she licked and bobbed, holding his gaze and driving him wild. So beautiful.
Her hands smoothed over his thighs, light, tickling, and she closed her eyes, shutting him out. He felt the loss keenly, wishing she'd give him - them, a chance. But she wouldn't let herself stay. Wouldn't let herself be happy with him. He growled low, pulling away from her sweet mouth and pulling her to her feet. Pressing a quick, hard kiss to her neck, he spun her around and bent her over, tossing her skirt over her back as she used the wall for support. She widened her stance in silent invitation and he pulled the scrap of fabric between her legs aside, plunging into her warm, wet heat. Grabbing her hips, he thrust in and out, over and over, pushing her against the wall as he took out his frustration between her legs.
The tension rose between his legs, and he leaned over, one hand sliding down to find the sensitive nub between her legs. He moved his finger in tiny circles, increasing the pressure until she cried out, grinding her lucious bottom against his groin. He thrust once, again, then pressed hard between her legs as he came hard, his semen coating her inner passage.
"Fuck." He quickly pulled out, stumbling backward in his haste. "I'm sorry...I..."
Contest Winners!
You'll each receive a copy of one of Karen Fenech's kindle titles. I'll send her your contact info - thanks for the fun convo!
December 2, 2010
Guest Post: A Hero to Die For by Author Karen Fenech
A Hero to Die For
You know the kind of man I mean. He walks into a room. The heroine in the novel we're reading sees him. Her heart starts thumping, her breathing quickens, and her hands aren't as steady as they'd been before his entrance.
She's not the only one reacting to him. We, the readers, are right there with her, feeling what she's feeling, and just as strongly.
He can be the alpha CEO, the rugged cowboy, the daring cop, intrepid spy, or supernatural vampire, werewolf or shape shifter. Whoever he is, now that she's met him she's irrevocably drawn to him and regardless of the conflict between them, there's no going back for her.
But why him? What makes this man the only one for her? What makes him her hero to die for and ours?
We all have our favorite romance heroes. The ones we remember long after we've finished a book. Who are your favorite heroes? What makes them your favorites? Why do you think these heroes are to die for, for the heroine and for the reader?
Please do share your favorites. As a token of my gratitude at being here with you, I'll be drawing three names from the commenters to win her or his choice of one of the Kindle editions of my books, Gone, Betrayal, or Unholy Angels. Please include an email address along with your comment, so I can contact you if you win.
Jamie, thank you for having me here.
Wishing you lots of great books to read,
Karen
Karen Fenech writes contemporary and historical romantic suspense and suspense-mystery. Her novels have received critical acclaim and have been praised by New York Times and USA Today bestselling authors Kat Martin, Maureen Child, and Debra Webb. Her novel BETRAYAL has been translated into Japanese, and her short fiction has been translated into Swedish, Danish, and Norwegian. Her novels BETRAYAL and GONE, originally released in hardcover by Gale under the Five Star Expressions imprint, are now available for Kindle and Kindle applications for $2.99. Her suspense-mystery novel, UNHOLY ANGELS, is now also available for Kindle and Kindle applications. Karen lives with her husband and daughter. Visit her website at: www.karenfenech.com and/or view her Amazon page to find all of her books. Thanks so much for joining us today, Karen! I've read Gone, and it's an excellent romantic suspense I highly recommend. I look forward to reading your other books as well.
The contest is open until midnight, and winners will be posted here early Friday morning (so if you check back late and see the serial chapter instead, scroll down). Winners will be contacted by email as well. Note that you don't need a Kindle to read the prize books - you can download the Kindle for PC (or phone) application for free.
December 1, 2010
Everyday Romance: Misunderstandings
If you're like me, one of the reasons some romance novels get tossed against the wall (though they're safer now, since I read mainly on my Kindle) is due to stupid misunderstandings that could easily have been cleared up with a very simple conversation between the hero/heroine. It drives me nuts to read about those, but I've finally realized that it's because I'm a communicator – and if something is unclear to me or seems a little off, I go to the other person and ask them, point blank, to clarify. I'm blunt that way.
I also try not to assume things. Most of the time (not always, because I am human), I give people the benefit of the doubt. If my husband is out with friends or co-workers and I hear girls were flirting with him, I don't immediately assume he's considering cheating on me. If someone doesn't get back to me right away, I don't assume it's because they're avoiding me, I assume they're busy and will get back to me when they can.
That's not to say my husband and I *never* have misunderstandings, even with good communication things can fall through the cracks. But they normally don't last very long, and certainly don't cause the amount of stress that I see the same sorts of things causing in other relationships.
The thing is, I've realized that for a lot of people, those simple misunderstandings that blow up into epic disasters in some romance novels may not happen to me, but they do happen to others. Some people do take things personally, and make assumptions that lead them down paths best left untraveled.
Perhaps it's personality driven. I know for some people, the fear of being "blunt" keeps them from communicating clearly with others. For others drama seems to be a way of life – they aren't happy unless something is in a state of chaos. And still others mislead people on purpose for whatever reason.
How do you deal with misunderstandings in your life? Do you actively try to avoid them by keeping the lines of communication open?
November 30, 2010
Serial Novel: The Biker's Wench, Chapter 25
Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7| Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 |Ch. 11 | Ch. 12 | Ch. 13| Ch. 14 |Ch. 15 |Ch. 16 |Ch. 17 |Ch. 18 |Ch. 19 |Ch. 20 | Ch. 21 | Ch. 22 | Ch. 23 | Ch. 24
The Biker's Wench
Chapter 25
Twenty minutes later, Monica's feet were numb. She stretched them gingerly, wincing at the sharp prickling sensations that shot through her ankles as circulation returned. She needed to get back - Harley would be wondering where she was, a thought that both scared her and gave her an unfamiliar sense of belonging that she wasn't quite sure she liked.
Peeking out carefully through the fake branches she scanned the hallway, listening for any noise that might indicate that someone was coming. Hearing and seeing nothing, she eased out of the alcove and walked toward room three-twelve. She'd go past just one time, and then be on her way. Maybe Harley would bring her back tomorrow if she asked nicely.
Just ahead a door opened on the right, and she froze. Male voices rumbled into the silence along with a softer, mewling sound that made her frown. Animals weren't allowed in the building. Had someone been keeping a cat in their room?
A tall man stepped into the hall, and Monica instinctively lowered her head, letting her hair fall across her face. Trying to appear as though she belonged there, she kept walking, forcing herself to maintain a normal pace instead of the sprint every muscle in her body was primed for. She walked past, noting the child carrier being passed to the man in the hall on her way by. Not a cat after all, but a baby, and a very young one at that. Odd, considering children weren't allowed at the ranch.
She heard the room door close as she reached the corner, and once around it she glanced back over her shoulder just in time to see the man and baby disappear into another room on the other side of the hall. The same room she'd been watching for nearly half an hour.
Quickly she ran to the stairwell and hurried down to the first floor. Stepping out into the near-darkness, she took a few deep breaths, then started walking down the dirt road in the general direction of the mansion. She'd slip in the back, find Harley and tell him what she saw. He'd assigned the room this morning, so he had to know something about what was going on there.
Entering through the same door she'd left by that morning, Monica retraced her steps to the private elevator, realizing only when she reached the long hall in the basement that she didn't have a key to Harley's suite yet. She reached the door, thinking to look around for a spare key that might be hidden when the door swung open. Startled, she gasped, his sillouhette stark and imposing against the light coming from behind him.
"Where the hell have you been?" He reached out and grabbed her wrist, pulling her against him as he slammed the door behind her. "Do you have any idea how long I've been looking for you? I can't protect you if I don't know where you are, Monica. When I tell you to wait for me, wait, dammit!" He locked his arms around her back and looked in to her eyes, the genuine worry reflected there belying his angry expression. He leaned in and covered her lips with a punishing kiss that inflamed both her body and her pride.
She pushed at his chest, turning her head when he refused to release his hold. "You don't own me," she said, pushing at his chest. His arms only tightened around her, and she struggled, needing to get away before her baser instincts took over. "Let me go! Just because we're married doesn't give you the right to man-handle me."
"That's not what you were saying last night, darlin'."
Abruptly he let her go, and she stumbled backward into the wall. He crossed his arms over his chest, watching as she regained her balance. "I suppose you think this is funny," she said, brushing off her skirts and pushing her hair back.
He shrugged. "Not particularly. I do think this whole thing would go a lot better if you'd stop fighting me. Especially since I've put my whole livelihood on the line for you. You could show a little respect."
"No one asked you to put yourself out," Monica said, regretting the words even as she said them. He was right. He didn't have help her - he could have just handed her over and not gotten involved. He shook his head and turned toward the kitchen, walking away. As she stared at his retreating back, she knew that if she didn't do something, she'd lose whatever this thing between them was. In that moment, she realized it wasn't being with him that she was afraid of. It was losing the one person who truly seemed to care about her.
"Wait," she said quietly, relief flooding through her when he stopped, not looking back, but not leaving.
"I'm...sorry."
November 29, 2010
Weekly News & Goals - 11/29/10
It's Cyber Monday – is everyone finding great deals online? Payday is tomorrow for me, so I'll conveniently miss the best sales, but that's how it goes sometimes. I'll see if there are any left tomorrow night after work.
Tempest was supposed to be $.99 through today, but apparently Amazon and Barnes & Noble are far quicker to raise prices than to lower, and they've already changed my prices back to $1.99. If you were hoping to get half off, you can either sign up for my newsletter (newsletter subscribers get a special half-off code for the rest of the month at Smashwords), or you can buy the .pdf version at Brazen Snake Books . That will go back up to $1.99 later tonight.
Thank you to all who have bought a copy – sales are good this month, which is very motivating in terms of getting more books out there.
I shoveled two feet of snow off the driveway this morning – yikes! I'm afraid we're spoiled – haven't had a "real" Montana winter here since I was a kid. It's not cold though, which is nice…I can deal with the snow (like it, even), but I'm not all that fond of temps below about 20 degrees.
Author Karen Fenech is joining us this Thursday for an interview, and she's also giving away a book from her backlist to *three* lucky commenters! You won't want to miss it…
This Week on The Variety Pages
Tuesday: Ch. 25 of The Biker's Wench
Wednesday: Everyday Romance – Misunderstandings
Thursday: Author Interview & giveaway with romantic suspense author Karen Fenech
Friday: Ch. 26 of The Biker's Wench
Goal Reports
I got a lot done last week, though not nearly as much as I'd planned. I consider it a victory that I more or less kept up with the serials, got more words done on The Minister's Maid, and lived through two turkey dinners (though I have to admit, I'm tossing the leftovers tonight). Unfortunately I didn't get my edits started as planned, but will do that this week. I need to get cracking on my promo shop as well if I'm going to pull the big giveaway I have planned together. All in all though, progress was made, so I'm happy with that.
Now that NaNo is over and I've officially not won, The Minister's Maid will scale back to 1k words or so per week, until The Biker's Wench draft is complete. No need to rush the second book when the first one's not done.
Goals for the Week
Writing
- Stay *ahead* of my serial novels (I haz a new project schedule – yay!)
- Start the final edits for Desert Heat
- 800 - 1k words for The Minister's Maid
- 800 - 1k words for the new January thriller serial (yes, I'm starting early – staying ahead!)
- Update writing blog with new schedule and post on working several projects at once (since people seem curious)
Business
- Format .mobi and .epub copies of Tempest to sell direct on the Brazen Snake Books site.
- Finish up Café Press promo store and links.
- Start gathering contest prize materials.
Personal
- Catch up that dang laundry
- Stow fall décor, put up the Christmas tree
- Workout three times (I'm counting all that snow shoveling as one!)
That's what I'm up to – what's new in your world? Read any good books lately?
November 26, 2010
Serial Novel: The Biker's Wench, Chapter 24
Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7| Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 |Ch. 11 | Ch. 12 | Ch. 13| Ch. 14 |Ch. 15 |Ch. 16 |Ch. 17 |Ch. 18 |Ch. 19 |Ch. 20 | Ch. 21 | Ch. 22 | Ch. 23
The Biker's Wench
Chapter 24
Harley stared at her for a long moment, then pushed the button to start the elevator again. "I listen to my lawyers when they give good advice - and I pay them to give good advice," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. "But they don't run my life. I'm sure there are at least a dozen women out there they would have preferred I married instead of you." The doors opened and he walked out without so much as a backward glance.
Monica followed, practically jogging to catch up as he strode through the back half of the mansion. She'd succeeded in pushing him away but it hurt to know she'd hurt him. Biting back the apology on her lips, she swung onto the seat of the four-wheeler behind him and held on as he turned over the engine. She could feel the disapproval coming off him in waves. and wondered if this was what her life would be like from now on.
A minute later, he pulled up outside the saloon, not bothering to turn off the engine. She got off the machine, resisting the urge to glance at him before walking away. She'd only taken a step when strong fingers circled her wrist and pulled her off-balance. She stumbled back against him, at his mercy as he pulled her across his lap and against his chest, lowered his head and seared her lips in a strong, branding kiss.
As quickly as it had started, it was over, and without looking directly at her he set her on her feet and gunned the engine. She watched him drive away, her body shaking at the powerful emotions warring inside her. Taking a deep breath, she exhaled slowly, composing herself as much as she could before she went inside.
***
Several hours later, Monica took a seat at a back table, her shift almost over. She sipped a soda and watched the last of the patrons packing up to leave, finally allowing herself to think about that kiss. Harley had been hungry, desperate - she had felt it all the way to her toes even in the few seconds before he'd left her. Thinking back, she revisited every expression, every nuance from the conversations they'd had. He hadn't once suggested she leave. Hadn't even blamed her for all the trouble he was facing now, when most men would be railing at her or tossing her out on her ear. Why? The only possible answer both scared her to her core, and excited her like nothing ever had. Could it be that he really cared for her?
She checked her watch. It was just past six, and the mansion was probably being prepared for her father's dinner party. She had no desire to run into him or his cronies tonight, but she'd slip in the back door they'd used that morning and find her way down to Harley's suite without being seen. First though, she wanted to stop by her old room. She'd left in hurry the night before, and wanted to make sure she hadn't left anything.
An engine roared outside, and she looked out in time to see Harley on the four-wheeler, remembering what he'd said earlier about taking her home. Not ready to deal with him again just yet, she quickly made her way down the back hall again, just as she had the night before. Slipping out the back door, she ran down the alley and between two more buildings, then across the next road to the large building that served as a dorm for the staff and hotel for certain high-paying guests.
After she'd checked her room on the fifth floor, she walked back down the hall toward the elevators, stopping short of the corner when she heard her father's voice.
"Three-twelve," he said, pausing for a long moment. "That's correct. The clients will be waiting at the office in Reno tomorrow. Don't be late." A short high beep signaled that he'd disconnected the call. Monica waited until she heard the elevator doors open and close before she peeked around the corner at the now-empty corridor. Three-twelve. That was the room number Harley had said on the phone that morning, she was sure of it. The first package must be here, but why hadn't he told her? So much for working together.
She walked to the stairwell and went down two floors, then slowly opened the door, looking both ways down the hall before she entered. Moving quickly, she found room three-twelve on the other side of the building. Unsure of what to do next, she found a hiding spot behind a tall fake plant in a small alcove twenty feet away, and settled in to wait.
November 24, 2010
Everyday Romance: Giving Thanks
Here in the USA, tomorrow is our Thanksgiving. We eat a lot, basically, take the day off, and reflect on what it is in our lives that we're truly thankful for. I'm thankful for a good many things myself, including the wonderful people who read this blog regularly, whether you comment or not. Thank you for reading. J
When was the last time you said the words, "Thank you"?
To me, verbalizing "thank you" isn't just a sign of gratitude. It's a sign of respect, and an acknowledgement that the other person was under no obligation to do whatever they did. If my husband buys dinner or vacuums, I thank him. If I get him a glass of water or make him dinner, he thanks me. Even the little things are important, in my opinion – because saying the words both tells the other person you're grateful, and reinforces in your own mind that the other person didn't *have* to do whatever it was they did. It makes us more appreciative all around, I think, and helps to keep us from taking those little things for granted.
I think we all know couples who do take each other for granted – I'm sad every time I see it, because so often taking the little things for granted fosters selfishness and disrespect. When we don't say thank you, we tend to start thinking the other person is *obligated* to do those things for us, and then when they don't or can't, we get bitter, selfishly demanding things of them and claiming they don't love us if they don't do as we wish. There is no "right way" down this path, in my opinion. It's a downhill spiral to the end.
And of course there's the rebellious child in all of us that says, "He didn't thank me, why should I thank him?" To which I say – it has to start somewhere, and it may as well be with me.
When was the last time you told your spouse/significant other/best friend – or even just the wait-staff at a restaurant "Thank You"?
