Vicki Batman's Blog, page 30

Author P J MacLayne on Handbag and Book - Not big on handbags and #newbook Wolves Gambit #romance #designerhandbag #organizer

I'm not big on handbags. I've never owned a designer name bag. In fact, there was a time when I traveled a lot for my job that I carried an organizer instead. It fit into my travel pack better and everything I needed was easy to find.
The purse I carry now is a workhorse. It's got room for a notepad, assorted pens, my cellphone, wallet and assorted other stuff. It's got rings on the outside so I can attach easily my keys to it. It's ugly but functional.
I do own one purse that I've had for years and rarely use. It's too small to carry everything I want to tote around. I bought it with a gift card I was given so it didn't feel as if I was wasting my money on a purse that was more decorative than useful. But I like it!
Why? Because it's leather, it's purple, and it has fringes! What more could I ask for! I use it once in a while for special occasions, but most of the time it lives in my closet.
The main character in my new book rarely carries a purse. She keeps a small backpack packed and handy in case she needs to make a quick exit out of town.
Wolf-shifter Lori Grenville was rescued from near-slavery and a brutal pack leader by the Free Wolves. To pay back the favor, she's dedicated her life to helping others in the same situation, leading shifters to safety and a new start, risking her life in the process. She's faced down alphas and has no qualms in undermining pack structure.
Now she's challenged with the task of restoring an alpha to his rightful place. If she gets it right, she can stop a war from ripping apart two packs and spreading across an entire state. If she fails, she'll be among the first to die.
There's still the option of walking away and letting the Jaeger and Destin packs destroy each other. That means she'll fail in her original mission of rescuing the daughter of the Jaeger alpha before the girl is forced into marriage for political gain.
Lori hasn't failed in a mission yet. This one may be the exception.
         As they bumped along the road, she worked on a plan to ditch him as quickly as possible. The burner phone hid in her purse, buried beneath the carefully planted clutter of lipsticks, assorted old receipts, and tissues.
         He didn’t look the type to take kindly to being asked to wait in the truck while she ran her errands. Charity didn’t offer enough activities to allow her to lose him in a crowd, one of her specialties. It didn’t have a shoe store where she could bore him into leaving after watching her try on shoe after shoe after shoe. But another kind of purchase practically guaranteed he’d go running back to the safety of the truck.
         Her shopping began in the grocery store. She needed napkins and paper towels for the bar and that aisle was a convincing place to start. Then she moved on to the snacks. Although she always kept the bar stocked with chips and pretzels, today she'd treat herself to personal favorites. At least that’s what she wanted Rory to believe.
         After pretending to study a display of dusty Christmas decorations, she moved on to her real target. Feminine products. As she’d hoped, Rory paused as she entered the aisle. “This will take a few minutes,” she said, “if you want to wait for outside, I’ll understand. I promise I’ll be good.”

Find Wolves Gambit at: Amazon

Handbag and Book ~ Vicki Batman on What's inspiring you? #readromance #springishere #RLFblog

Nature is!
I have always liked the beautiful colors of flowers; however, my obsession really began about three years ago when Handsome and I traveled the Rhine on a river cruise. We began our journey in Lucerne, Switzerland in late June. The weather was perfect, in fact, almost like spring compared to the heat my area experiences in the summer. Many variety of flowers bloomed everywhere. I became captivated and took many photos. Some flowers resembled those grown at home. I also spotted new plants. Even the tiny orange weed in the crack next to a white-washed building captured my fancy.  This year, the spring flowers are bountiful, most likely due to the abundance of rain and cool temperatures. The antique climbing roses is loaded with tiny pale yellow bouquets. (These are the same plants I nearly chopped down, too.) Every day, I see new things—a snowball viburnum bursting with large blossoms. Many colors of Iris. Hot pink Gerbera daises. Green roses.
The air is fresh, perfumed by the budding flowers. The breeze lifts my hair and brushes across my mouth only to stick on my lip balm (no flavor). On dog walks, Champ, our white malti-poo, toddles along, stopping to pee every ten feet. His smoky gray brother, Jones, has long straight legs and walks like he knows what he is doing, only he doesn’t most of the time. Kids handling super-hero kites which are struggling to find lift. My neighbor is dead-heading the yellow and purple pansies with their fanciful smiles along her front walkway garden.So how is all this loveliness inspiring?I’ve been working harder at effective descriptions by adding how I feel and what I see. Hopefully by doing so, you--the reader--are experiencing a better mind picture.



Here’s an example from Temporarily Employed, my humorous romantic mystery:
“Yuck.” Pretty much covered the whole freakin’ day.
A blinding red-white, red-white strobe, reflected in my brand new Wrangler’s rearview mirror, seized my attention. The police.
I tossed my hands skyward, ready to surrender. I shouldn’t have been too surprised. Like I’d commented this a.m. to my roommate, Jenny, “Today, anything’s possible.”
My Bad Day checklist included:
- Crappy job interview, one which might have provided desperately needed income.
- Wore gut-busting panty hose on a hot day which had now worked past my waist and strangled my diaphragm.
 - A barely blowing air conditioner indicated something had malfunctioned in my new, fun car.
Hopefully, you are seeing a young woman having a bad day, absolutely nothing going right. And the cherry on the sundae is the police stopping her.
If you would like to read more, the fun is at: Murder & Mayhem .

Handbag and Book w guest author Lynn Crain on Bitten by the handbag bug #Brightonhandbag #Christmasgift #readromance

First, thanks to Vicki for having me. I must admit, this was a very intriguing idea when I first saw it. See, I’m a purse whore and I’ll be the first to admit it. This particular model, it’s a Brighton bag called a Kayden Cross Body Satchel. Are you amazed that someone pays attention to the name of their handbag? I was when I was bitten by the handbag bug about 20 years ago. All, with maybe one or two exceptions, are Brighton bags because I felt that the heart motif on every bag was meant for the author in me.
This particular version I received at Christmas from my husband. I love the material, the color and the fact that it can fold up into a small case hidden on the inside. Because of that, it’s a perfect bag for travel making it easy for me to take another smaller Brighton bag.
For me, Brighton bags are a must and I think I have collected about 20 of them throughout the years. I still have my very first bag and pull it out when I want a light-colored bag. It was a simple tote that was the softest leather I’d ever felt. It was also one of the most expensive bags I’d ever had but I found it on sale and to the matching wallet.
See…told you I was a purse whore…hope you enjoyed this little look into my purse habit.


Aingeal Cochran is on a mission to save humanity from itself when suddenly she’s staring head-on at her forgotten past. Lukas Everhard must bring her up to speed regarding the real enemy before allowing himself to love her completely. In learning about her past and mission, Aingeal realizes the best is yet to be and she will do anything to protect those she loves. For Lukas, Aingeal is the mission.
 “You know the rules here. No fighting in the mess hall.”  The object didn’t remove itself from my body.
I whirled furious, jerking my arm away, energy in both hands now and was stopped short by the man who stood before me. I was not a small woman, yet this man dwarfed me.  Slowly, my gaze moved from his chest to his wide shoulders to his face and stopped there. Ice blue eyes stared at me without one bit of emotion attached to the look. He’s one cold cookie. I blinked rapidly almost as if I had been hit in the gut. This man was not going to take my crap in any way, shape or form. While I might be able to fool Darien somewhat as I had learned since I had arrived, I would never be able to fool this one.

Find Avenging Aingeal in the Mystic Realms Anthology at: Amazon
Find Lynn Crain at:  Facebook So, Lynn, how many handbags do you own? 

Handbag & Book: guest author Jean Rabe - I love Dogs & her #book The Bone Shroud #pugdogs #historicalrelics #weddingtrip

I love dogs. I have three … a pug, Labrador, and a Boston terrier. The pug is the oldest, and my friends know he’s my favorite. A couple of my buddies … and fellow authors … have given me pug purses—and I treasure them because they were gifts and because they feature pugs. The picture here is of one of my pug purses and a pug coin purse. I also have pug jewelry, pug t-shirts, pug sweatshirts, and I used to have plush pug bedroom slippers, but I wore them out and could not find suitable replacements. But the pug purses … I’m often getting compliments on them. Irem Madigan’s wedding trip to Rome turns into a desperate search for historical relics, and a struggle to stay ahead of a killer.Irem, an archivist at the Chicago Field Museum, flies to Italy to be the “best man” in her brother’s wedding. He’s marrying an archaeologist who lures Irem into a centuries-old mystery.Unfortunately, there are other players in the game, and some of them are playing deadly. Can she survive and uncover the ancient secrets?One, October 4Irem Madigan’s mistake was stopping in front of a window display.The little gift shop not far from the Termini Station flaunted bars of starfish-shaped soap and arrangements of tiny silk roses. She peered through a beveled glass pane. The labels were in Italian and English. Inviting.A trace of vanilla slipped out the open door, adding to the allure, and she swore she could taste cinnamon. Perhaps she’d browse the aisles and find a trinket for her mother. But this was her first day in Rome, and she would have plenty of opportunities for shopping.Irem’s fingers danced across the smooth window grilles, indecisive a moment too long. Someone yanked her clutch away, and she whirled to see him racing down the brick sidewalk.“Ladro!” Irem took off after him. “Ladro!” Irem was not well-versed in Italian, but she’d studied a guidebook, and “thief” was one of the words that had stuck. “Ladro! Ladro!”The sidewalk was choked with people in the early afternoon, chattering in Italian, French, English; many of them with maps and cell phones in hand. It was typically warm for October, in the mid-seventies, and after the morning’s downpour the sun had come out, and with it a gaggle of tourists.“Ladro!” she shouted.“Get him!” A man encouraged, raising his fist.“Cours vite!” That sounded French. “Attrape le!”“Cosa succede?”“Shit and back again,” Irem cursed.There was money in that clutch, a new iPhone, her Field Museum ID, credit cards, and the wedding invitation that had tugged her here. She was angry at the thief, and at herself. She’d read up on Italy. It wasn’t supposed to be dangerous to walk alone around Termini Station and south by the Piazza Vittorio Emanuele. Rome was safe in general. Tourists rarely reported problems … other than pickpockets. A big city girl, she should have been more alert.It was difficult to see through the press of bodies, but the thief was tall and gangly, with a short black ponytail that bobbed above the heads of the passersby. Four blocks, five blocks. She focused on the ponytail and ran, gaining despite weaving among people so oblivious they didn’t bother to get out of her way.A shrill whistle speared through the clamor of conversations and the scattered blats of car horns. Another whistle, then a siren. Maybe someone had called the police.Irem’s shoes had low pompadour heels, uncomfortable to run in, but she managed. Thank God she hadn’t packed stilettos for the museum soiree. She felt the right leg of her nylons run with an annoying tickle.“Shit,” she grumbled again, somehow sprinting even faster, slipping between two middle-aged ladies with enormous shopping bags and barely dodging a stand of party dresses being wheeled onto the sidewalk.Six blocks, seven blocks.Everything was a blur of color—the clothes of the pedestrians, the vibrant awnings on the old buildings, the painted brick fronts of businesses. Irem felt buffeted by scents, too: warring perfumes and car exhaust. Her senses were overloaded, but she stayed focused on the ponytail.The tall thief darted between two buildings, and—more furious than worried—she didn’t hesitate to follow. The alley was filled with trash bins and crates piled high, the clutter making it too narrow for a car to pass through.“Stop!” she screamed. “You son of a bitch!”He glanced over his shoulder, and in that instant he tripped. He managed to keep himself upright, but he lost seconds. Irem closed.“I said stop, asshole!”Irem leaped, raising her leg, twisting, and kicking him. He staggered and she followed with a second kick that dropped him to his knees. Her clutch and a man’s thick wallet fell out of his hands, and she slipped around to stand in front of him.“Don’t move.”He snarled and reached to his waist, and the thought flickered that he might have a weapon. She delivered an elbow strike to the side of his head, and a palm heel blow to his sternum that put him on his back and had him gasping.“I … said … don’t … move, you son of a bitch,” she growled.There was no risk of that any longer: she’d knocked him to the edge of consciousness, and his head lolled to the side. It looked like she might have broken his jaw.The sirens grew louder, then quit. She heard the slap-slap-slap of shoes against the brickwork. Irem did not look up.“You son of a bitch,” she repeated to the thief, then attempted an Italian translation: “Tu bastardo.” She’d learned those words, too. Profanity came easy to Irem. She stopped herself from kicking him again—although she really wanted to for that satisfying sense of “good measure.” She bent and picked up her clutch.Find Bone Shroud at: AmazonFind Jean Rabe at: Website


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Handbag and Book w guest author Jana Richards. Confession-I don't have a lot of handbags #readromance #RLFblog #traveling

I don’t have a lot of handbags. I’m more into practicality than pretty. I have an every-day handbag that I often use until it falls apart, or until one of my daughters decides I need a new one. The every-day handbag I’m currently using was bought for me by my youngest daughter. She bought it online and didn’t realize how big it was till she saw it live. Honestly, the thing is huge. I have to be careful not to put too much stuff in it or I can’t lift it. But it suits me fine. It’s big enough to carry everything I need, plus a paperback or a tablet. You never know when you’ll have a few extra moments to read.


My Just Fab purse is great, but today I’m going to talk about my travel purse. Okay, I’ll admit, not the prettiest handbag in world, but to me it represents travel and a little bit of adventure. I purchased the handbag at CAA, the Canadian equivalent of AAA, shortly before my husband and I went on river cruise in France in 2014. It’s got a long adjustable strap that I can wear across my body, which leaves my hands free. There’s a little lock on the top zipper which acts as a deterrent to anyone trying to stick their hand into my purse. We’d heard so much about pickpockets in Paris that I wanted to be prepared. The inside has several pockets and zippered compartments, and even a tiny LED light attached to a cord. I’ve never used it, but I suppose it would come in handy for finding a keyhole or an ignition. I just think it’s cool.Last year I used the handbag in June when we drove to Minneapolis to see Tom Petty in concert. It was a fabulous concert, and sadly, one of Tom Petty’s last. Then in September my trusty handbag accompanied me on our trip to Nova Scotia. As they say, don’t leave home without it.
I’m hoping for many more opportunities to go on adventures with my handbag. Maybe back to Paris, or perhaps a couple of weeks in Hawaii during a long Canadian winter. Yes, I think Hawaii. Handbag and I could use some warm ocean breezes. Aloha!  

She can’t live with one more lie. He can’t tell the truth.Harper Lindquist is convinced she’s found the answer to her financial prayers. Unless she pours cash into crumbling Solace Lake Lodge, she’ll lose her family’s legacy. Her would-be savior arrives in the middle of a Minnesota blizzard and she’s determined to prove to her reluctant, and trapped, financier the lodge is a sound investment. But Harper isn’t completely honest with him. And she has no idea the lake is hiding secrets of its own.

Ethan James is a liar, but his money is very real. He isn’t convinced a broken-down inn is a smart investment opportunity. But the more he understands Harper’s dreams and desires, the more he wants to be the man to make them come true. The trauma in both their pasts means neither can fully trust the other. They must find the courage to love, to trust, and to accept, or yesterday’s sorrows will keep them apart.

Though he was sure Harper didn’t realize he was THE Mr. Hainstock, he wondered what kind of relationship they’d have if he didn’t represent the accomplishment of her most cherished dreams. If he was still an ordinary working stiff, living from paycheck to paycheck, would she have the time of day for him? He couldn’t help feeling used, like he was nothing to her without the money.
Yet, her happiness meant everything to him. If rebuilding the lodge and turning it into a viable business again would make her happy, then that’s what he’d do.
More fool him.
He hated lying to her, but he was so deep into this lie he couldn’t find his way out. He couldn’t hide his true identity from her forever. Eventually, she’d figure it out. Or someone would tell her.
Cold fear twisted his gut. When she discovered the truth, would she be angry at him for lying and want him out of her life? Or would she throw herself at him, tossing aside her former concern about mixing business with a personal relationship?
Ethan didn’t know which scenario he feared most.
Find LIES AND SOLACE at: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B079TDDSY4
Find Jana Richards at: http://www.janarichards.com                

Handbag and Book: #author Holly Bargo Is my #handbag big enough? #RLF #accessories #readromance

I dislike large handbags, always have. But I need something large enough to hold the full-size wallet, keys, checkbook, business cards, my e-reader, and other necessities a woman carries. This purse fits the bill really well. It's just large enough to accommodate everything I need and to organize them in separate pockets. Most of the pockets are zippered, so I don't have to worry about dumping everything if I drop it or knock it over.



The leather's worn, but I'm not so formal that it matters. The wear adds character. This purse's one flaw is an inadequate shoulder strap. More than any other purse I've had in the last 20 years, this one will not stay on my shoulder. So, in the summer, I switch to a purse that's half the size with a much more useful strap.

Rescued from domestic abuse, Bratva princess Inessa recuperates from the latest beating in the home of Giovanni Maglione, the mafia captain of Cleveland. Learning that her husband double-crossed the Chinese triad, and they want their pound of flesh--and they're happy to take it out of Inessa--her parents ask Giovanni to marry their newly widowed daughter. The Chinese triad will be looking for a Russian mobster's wife, not the wife of an Italian mobster. Inessa agrees to this marriage of convenience which, of course, isn't so convenient. The ruse fails, which forces Giovanni into a violent and bloody mob war, because he protects what's his... and Inessa is most definitely his.

Inessa whimpered, cowered in a corner, and tried to protect her head from the blows raining down on her.
“Yebanaya suka!” Ruslan shouted as he switched from using his fists to kicking her with his booted feet. He preferred pointy-toed cowboy boots.
Inessa moaned as she felt another rib give way, the crack inaudible beneath the thud of his boot against her side and his bellowed curses.
“Cheat on me, will you? You dare to sleep with another man?” he yelled in Russian. “Fucking bitch! No man will want to touch you after I’m through with you!”
She groaned again, her voice hoarse and no singular pain distinguishable from another among the contusions and broken bones resulting from yet another perceived infraction of Ruslan’s many rules. She should have known better than to smile when thanking the nice young man for helping to carry and then load the groceries into the car. But it had been so nice to have someone do something for her just that once, especially since she hadn’t quite healed from the last beating.
Inessa felt the blackness of oblivion cloud her mind. She welcomed it and hoped it would stay.
“It’s your damned fault that I can’t pay my debts!” Ruslan screamed at her, the words landing on the edge of her fading consciousness.
With an incongruous sound, the doorbell rang. Ruslan set his booted foot back on the floor and muttered, “Stay put.”
He turned and walked through the house to answer the door. Chest heaving, body sweating, and red-faced with the exertion of pummeling his wife, he flung open the door and gaped. Whipcord lean and sharp-featured, Gennady faced him. The man’s eagle-eyed gaze flickered over him, missing nothing.
“What are you doing in Seattle, Gennady?” Ruslan demanded as he positioned his body to block the man’s entry.
“Maksim and Olivia haven’t heard from Inessa lately and they sent me to check up on her.” Gennady caught sight of the swollen and abraded knuckles on the other man’s hands, the dark, shiny liquid splattered on his black, alligator hide boots.
“She’s fine,” Ruslan answered curtly. “Now go.”
Gennady raised an eyebrow and managed to look down his nose at the bigger man. “I don’t think so. Step aside, Ruslan.”
“What? You don’t trust my word?”
Gennady’s expression turned from skepticism to open contempt. “You’re a worthless shit, Ruslan. You always have been.  So, no, I don’t trust your word. Now, step aside.”

Find Russian Pride at:  Amazon

         Find Holly Bargo at: Website



Thanks so much for visiting with me today and sharing your book and favorite handbag, Holly!

Handbag and Book: Do you and your partner share a "song"? #readromance #themesongforcouples #JamesBondmovie

I usually share how Handsome proposed to me on April Fool's Day, but today, I'm going to share something else--how we met!

I lived in a large apartment complex and made many friends. On Memorial Day weekend, one neighbor and I decided to go to the new Bond movie, For Your Eyes Only. I loved the films and really wanted to go. My friend decided to hang by the pool and would connect with me later in the afternoon. The pool was right outside my bedroom and I could tell my friend was partying hard. When he left for the day, I went to his place and checked in.

He was very happy. As we discussed not going, the doorbell rang. My friend answered and there was Handsome. He apologized for interrupting, but I dismissed it, saying we thought we would go to the movie, but our friend was not able to go after all. Handsome came in and our friend introduced us. A few minutes passed. Our friend said, "You take her." I rolled my eyes and said Handsome didn't have to go, but he said he wanted to.

And that's how we met.

Was I overwhelmed? Handsome was nice enough and didn't break any mirrors. lol

He picked me up, we drove to the theater, bought our own tickets (not a date, remember?) and he hardly talked at all. The opening credits rolled along with the movie's theme song (For Your Eyes Only) and I was a little embarrassed at the sexual overtures. After the movie was over, he drove me home and dropped me off in the parking lot.

Well, okay. That was awkward, but it wasn't a date; so okay. And thank goodness he was persistent. In a funny way, we do have a theme song. lolol And a great "how we met" story for our kids.
Do you and your partner have a theme song?



My kids say Handsome is Allan Wellborn from the Temporary books. He's not. I saw an actor on TV and knew he was Allan. But his first name comes from a character on a television series and his last name from a construction company. I liked the way the "LL" sounded in both names. And Wellborn describes Allan to a "T." Find out all about him at: Author Central

A Disastrous Catastrophe! #computerwoes #newbook #rlfblog

A few weeks ago, I was typing merrily along on Temporarily 3, took a moment to check on something on Amazon via Google, then WHAM! A pop-up appeared and with a screaming voice and blaring sirens, ordered me to call Microsoft as I'd been infected. I did and began speaking with the tech at the other end.

He said because of another server being attacked last year, I got a virus and needed to buy a new kind of scan for $299.00. This unnerved me. I felt very panicky. All I could think about was my new book, my new book, my new book.

Then he wanted me to sign into my online banking services. I was like what??!! No, not doing that. Then he wanted me to do a virtual check. No, not doing that.

All kinds of whistles began going off in my head. I told him I had his number and could call back if I wanted his services (in other words, bs to get rid of him). The instant I hung up, I ran a virus scan and downloaded my book to a USB.

I consulted with #2son and we agreed to wipe the computer and reinstall. This took a while.
Afterwards, I loaded on all kinds of back up stuff, changed passwords on various accounts, etc. I probably have spent ten hours on this.

#2son said, "Mom, something in your head said this wasn't good. You did the right thing." Still, I got (and get) security lectures from #1 and #2sons.

I have to say in all the years I have worked with computers, this is the first time. Of course, I will be more vigilant in the future.

The good news: the book is just fine.





I've been working on a new project and pretty soon, I'll be sharing some news with you. :)


https://www.amazon.com/Murder-Mayhem-... 
In the meantime, if Murder & Mayhem is up your alley, try the Murder & Mayhem boxed set which includes my humorous romantic mystery, Temporarily Employed. Find the fun at:  Amazon

Handbag and Book: author Judy Penz Sheluk #handbag confession & #newmystery A Hole in One

Confession time: I’m not a fashionista when it comes to purses (okay, who am I trying to kid? I’m not a fashionista, period. So this purse by LUG isn’t about trying to make a fashion statement, but it is so amazing that I bought the same cross body model (Moped) in black after my husband mentioned that fuchsia was a bit too summery to be carrying around in December. Here’s why I love it, especially when it comes to traveling. A water bottle holder. A back pocket for my Kindle. Roomy enough inside for an iPad, wallet, reading glasses and a sunglass case. An inner zipped compartment for my passport. Another compartment for my iPhone. Front pocket for gum, my herbal tea, and a spare pair of disposable contact lenses. In short, everything in a lightweight, washable design. LOVE IT!!!Sadly, LUG has discontinued the Moped model, but there are plenty of other great bags on their website, http://www.luglife.com. And no, I don’t work or own part of the company.  Hoping to promote the Glass Dolphin antiques shop, co-owners Arabella Carpenter and Emily Garland agree to sponsor a hole in one contest at a charity golf tournament. The publicity turns out to be anything but positive, however, when Arabella’s errant tee shot lands in the woods next to a corpse.
They soon learn that the victim is closely related to Arabella’s ex-husband, who had been acting as the Course Marshal. With means, opportunity, and more than enough motive, he soon becomes the police department’s prime suspect, leaving Arabella and Emily determined to clear his name—even if they’re not entirely convinced of his innocence.
Arabella Carpenter let the others go first. All three managed to clear the pond with their tee shot and land on the green, but not one was anywhere close to getting a hole in one. Arabella breathed a sigh of relief—since they were sponsoring the contest, their foursome might not be eligible to win, but it still freaked her out to think someone else might. She went through her mental prep, took her swing, and watched as her ball went directly into the woods. “Hey, you made it over the water,” Hudson said, hopping into his cart. “For someone just starting out, that’s not a bad shot.”Arabella caught Emily’s look and smiled. He really was a nice guy. “Thanks, Hudson. Whether I can find my ball is an entirely different story. Why don’t I look for it while you guys putt in? I’m sure one of you will be able to make the shot.”They crossed the pond on a wooden bridge just wide enough for their golf carts, parked on the path next to the hole, and grabbed their putters. Luke, Hudson, and Emily went to the green and began debating which ball to hit. Arabella trundled over to the woods, feeling stupid and hoping like hell it wasn’t infested with poison ivy. The woods were thicker than she’d expected. She walked in a couple of feet, using her putter to push the branches aside.That’s when she started to scream.
Find A HOLE IN ONE at: Barking Rain PressFind Judy Penz Sheluk at: Website

Handbag and Book: guest author Linda Tillis on Easter is Around the Corner & her #newbook #sweetromance #readromance

        With Easter just around the corner, my mind wanders back to the days when little girls wore Easter bonnets, and white, cotton gloves were standard accessories. My mother passed away when I was ten years old, but our last Easter together was special. She made my adorable navy-blue suit with white trim, and I had the cutest little white straw boater hat.
            Now, anyone who really knows me, knows that I am NOT a purse person. I spent too many years wearing a uniform and carrying a man’s wallet in my back pocket.However, when I saw this little bag (8 inches x 6 inches) at a yard sale, I had to buy it. Have never used it, never will, but, it spoke to me of a gentler time.
            I believe that is why I write historical, not contemporary, romance. My stories are set in a time when honor was an accepted way of life. When men like Samuel Hinton, hero of A Man With A Pure Heart, truly lived tenants of the Bible, while protecting those weaker than themselves. Samuel Hinton was raised to respect all life, so, thoughts of committing murder never crossed his mind.  Until the woman he loved was taken prisoner by a mad man.
“What is it, son? What’s happened, are you hurt?”“Pa, he has Kathleen. Can you saddle the roan while I grab a canteen of water?”“Who, son, who…oh dear Lord, not your killer?” Even as he asked, Garth was grabbing the saddle and heading for the corral. Samuel was already halfway to the house, and by the time he got back Garth had the roan saddled, with a lead rope secured to the pommel.Samuel grabbed the rope from his Pa’s hands, and then paused to face him. “Pa, I need you to pray. Pray that Kathleen is alive. Then pray for me, Pa, cause I intend to kill the man, in either case.” Garth’s heart filled with pain as he said, “Son, you bring that girl home, and you do what you need to do, to make this right.”Samuel nodded, hung the canteen from his saddle, shoved a towel full of biscuits he’d grabbed from the pantry into his saddlebag, mounted Zeus and rode off into the darkness.
Find A Man With A Pure Heart at:   AmazonFind Linda Tillis at:   Facebook
Thanks for showing off your bag, Linda! I have something similar that I carried last summer. And do I remember Easter hats. Mom made our outfits and we got new shoes too. 
Readers: did you have special outfits for special occasions like Easter?