D.E. Haggerty's Blog, page 2

Ruby has no intention of falling in love. Too bad fate has other plans for her.

Welcome to Winter Falls! Winter Falls is a whacky small town settled by a bunch of hippies. I’m not ashamed to say I want to live there (even if the mayor gets caught without his pants on on a regular basis). But, since I can’t, I invented a series of stories set in the town. The perks of being a writer! The Winter Falls series will consist of at least seven books, but there’s also a free prequel.

Ruby has her life planned out. Go to college. Join the Peace Corps. Save the world. But then she bumps into Daniel at a Peace Corps presentation and her life plan doesn’t look as appeasing as it once did. When it takes longer than she expects to get an assignment, she decides to follow Daniel to Winter Falls. By the time her Peace Corps assignment comes through, she’s fallen in love with the town where helping to save the Earth is obligatory, but pants are optional.

Decision time. Does she go off and safe the world as she’s dreamed of since she was seven or stay in Winter Falls with the man she’s falling in love with?

Click here to find out

And here’s the first chapter to whet your appetite:

Chapter 1What’s a police record between friends?

1987

I’m practically skipping as I enter the auditorium. I’m so excited I can barely contain the energy in my body. The Peace Corps. Finally! This is why I’ve spent the past four years studying to obtain a degree in education – to join the Peace Corps and help make the world a better place.

“Excuse me.”

Oops! I didn’t realize I’d stopped to stand in the middle of the aisle to stare at the giant Peace Corps logo on the screen.

“Sorry,” I mumble before turning around to smile at the man.

The smile freezes on my face. Standing in front of me is the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. He’s tall and stands with confidence staring down at me, but it’s his face that captures my attention. His forest green eyes are sparkling with amusement, and he has prominent cheekbones most women would die for. To top it all, there’s an adorable dimple in his chin I want to lick.

He could be a model. What is he doing here?

I clear my throat and stick my hand out. “Ruby.”

“Daniel.”

After we shake hands, we stand there staring at each other like a couple of dorks. I clear my throat again. “I guess we should take our seats.”

He motions me forward. “After you.”

I find a seat near the front. Yes, I’m that person. The one who sits in the front of the class and raises her hand when she knows the answer to a question. What can I say? Education is important. Thus, the teaching degree.

A rush of excitement runs through me when Daniel chooses the seat next to me.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, but before he can answer, the speaker takes the stage.

We listen to two speakers tell us about their experience within the Peace Corps. One was in Cameroon and one in the Philippines. I’m literally sitting on the edge of my seat as they talk about how fulfilling their work was. I cannot wait!

After they finish, I nearly spring out of my seat loaded with questions for them, but a recruiter comes on stage to talk about the application process and what it entails before I get the chance.  

“Are there any questions?” she asks once she finishes her presentation.

Someone shouts from the back, “What if I have a police record? Can I still apply?”

My heart squeezes at the question. I may be in trouble here.

“It depends on the charges.”

I raise my hand. “What if the charge is disorderly conduct from a protest? And the charges were dismissed?”

“If the charges were dismissed, you have an arrest record and not a police record. You should be fine.”

Phew. My arrest record may be longer than my arm, but I’ve never been convicted of anything. I’ve never even had to pay a fine of any sort.

“Are there are any more questions?”

Questions are shouted out until I start to wonder if the whole ‘the only stupid question is the unasked one’- adage is a bunch of bull hockey. Weapons training by the Peace Corps? Really? The recruiter finally ends the meeting by telling everyone to review their information packets and to contact him if there are any more questions.  

I jump to my feet and clap as the recruiter leaves the stage. A few people clap with me, but most of the crowd hurries to leave.

Once the noise level quiets down, Daniel turns to me. “Please tell me you’ll get a drink with me. I need to know why a good girl like you has an arrest record.”

My nose wrinkles. “Good girl? How do you know I’m a good girl?” My mom calls me ‘my problem child’.

He lifts an eyebrow in challenge. “Am I wrong?”

I never could resist a challenge. “Let’s get that drink.” I’ll prove to him I’m not some innocent good girl.

We exit the auditorium and walk down the block to the local college bar. I push the door open, but he stops me with a hand on my wrist. My skin tingles where he touches it, and all my nerve endings wake up.

“Are you old enough to be in here?”

“I thought I was a good girl? Would a good girl use a fake ID?” For good measure, I flutter my eyelashes.

“I’m starting to think I’m wrong about the good girl thing.”

I wink at him before proceeding into the bar. We settle in a booth along the far wall.

“Okay,” he says once we have our beers. “Tell me why you have an arrest record.”

“I guess since you bought me a drink and all, I can tell you,” I begin. “It’s actually not an exciting story. I didn’t get caught streaking down State Street or anything crazy. I think it’s important my voice is heard is all. I’ve been involved in some anti-nuclear protests and peace protests. The Three Mile Island accident set off a bunch of needed demonstrations about the safety of using nuclear power in my opinion.”

“The Three Mile Island Accident was in 1979. You would have been what? Nine?”

I waggle my eyebrows at him. “Why Daniel? Are you trying to figure out how old I am?”

“My mother taught me it’s not polite to ask a woman’s age.”

I wave my hand. “It’s fine. I’m twenty-two. Hold old are you?”

“Twenty-five.”

Twenty-five? A bit old for a college student. “Are you a student?”

“About to graduate law school actually.”

“Cool. Congrats! And you want to join the Peace Corps?”

“I would, but I don’t think it’s in the cards for me.”

I rub my hands together and lean closer. “No? Do you have a police record?”

He barks out a laugh. “I do not. And, before you ask, I don’t have an arrest record either.”

I sit back and cross my arms over my chest. “Maybe you’re the goody two shoes instead of me.”

“I didn’t have much choice.”

Now, I’m intrigued. I lean forward and whisper. “Why not? Are you a communist spy?”

He frowns. “What makes you think I’m a communist?”

I slap my hands down on the table. “Holy smokes! You are a communist!”

“Keep it down,” he hisses. “I’m not a communist. I’m the furthest thing from it in fact.”

My nose wrinkles. “You’re an ultra-conservative capitalist?”

He sighs. “My parents are defectors from the Soviet Union.”

My eyes widen to the size of saucers. “You have got to be kidding. How exciting! Why did they defect? Were they caught distributing copies of Doctor Zhivago by Boris Pasternak? Or did they vandalize a communist propaganda poster? Oooh. Maybe they were ordinary criminals and used Soviet oppression as an excuse to defect.”  

“You have quite the imagination.”

“Come on. Tell me. If you don’t, I’ll keep coming up with more and more outrageous reasons they might have defected.”

“I’m kind of curious to hear what other outrageous reasons you can come up with.”

Game on. “Did they get caught burying a body after they killed a guard who caught them spitting on Lenin’s grave? Did they—”

He holds up his hand. “Stop. I’ll tell you.”

I drum my fingers against each other. “Yes, my evil plan is working.”

“You’re not an innocent girl, are you?”

I bat my eyelashes at him. “Of course, I am.”

He laughs. “The story isn’t actually very interesting.” I motion for him to get on with it. “My mother is an English teacher. She was arrested for teaching the original version of Robinson Crusoe.”

My nose wrinkles. “Robinson Crusoe by Daniel Defoe? There’s another version? What’s wrong with the original one?”

“It promotes individual acts of heroism. History is made by the collective effort of society, not the acts of individual people.”

“Are you quoting a Soviet propaganda pamphlet?”

He nods. “I am. Anyway, the book was rewritten. The rewrite skipped most of the time Robinson Crusoe spent alone and placed more emphasis on the idea of the importance of society. My mother did not approve of the re-write and refused to teach it.”

“And they arrested her?”

“Yes. She was very young at the time. My father and her hadn’t been married very long. Since my father was a member of the party in good standing, he was able to get her released after she signed a declaration stating she wouldn’t teach the original version of the novel again.”

“Let me guess. It was a declaration she had no intentions of following through with?”

“Exactly. Which is why they decided to defect.”

“But how did they do it? It can’t be easy to defect from a country where the vast majority of people don’t have passports, let alone are allowed to leave the country for vacation.”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. They won’t tell me. They claim to be protecting people.”

“They probably are.” I sit back. “Wow. Your life is way more fascinating than mine. I grew up an hour north of Madison and came to town to go to college. End of story.”

He wiggles his eyebrows. “Except for your arrest record.”

“Now, you’re just trying to flatter me.”

“Is it working?”

I giggle. “Maybe?”

“Shall we order some food?”

My budget doesn’t have room for eating out, even if it is a mere burger at a bar. But what the hell? I’m having a good time, and those are few and far between when you work full time while attending college.  

I give in. “Okay.”   

We make small talk while we eat. There’s a possibility I scarf down my food as it’s the first meat I’ve eaten in over a week. After we finish eating, Daniel takes my hand and leads me to the door.

“I’m to the right,” I say and point that way.

“And I’m to the left.” He points in the opposite direction.

“I guess this is where we say goodbye. Parting is such sweet sorrow.”

“Does this make me Romeo to your Juliet?”

I smirk. “If the tights fight.”

He grins as he leans forward to kiss my cheek. “I had a lovely time tonight. Can I ring you sometime?”

My stomach flips at the idea of this handsome man wanting my number, but I ignore it and act all calm as I respond.

“Okay,” I say and give him my phone number. “I shall say good night till it be morrow.” I wave as I make my way down the street toward my apartment. I can’t resist looking back. When I glance over my shoulder, I find him standing in front of the bar watching me leave. Yes.

Continue Reading

Friends. Just friends. Does Lenny not understand the concept? No worries. Lexi will explain it to him.

Lenny is bouncing at the walls, ready for his love story to begin. Lexi? Not so much.

Lexi is determined to keep her relationship with Lenny at friends only. Lenny pretends to agree. He’ll simply break her barriers down one by one until she’s ready for him.

But then Lexi’s past catches up with her and Lenny’s done with gentle. He’s breaking through the friendzone barriers and protecting Lexi. Even if it’s from herself.

Will Lexi succumb to Lenny’s charm? Or are these two destined to remain friends forever?

Click here to find out

Want a sample before you buy? No problem. Here you go:

Chapter 1

The difference between a girlfriend and a girl friend is the space in between is called the ‘friend zone’.

Whack! I grunt when the bridal bouquet hits me smackdab in the face. I watch as it falls to the floor. I could catch it, but I’m not going to, because I – Lexi Mullins – have no intention of being a bride, thank you very much.

The current bride, Faith, points to the bouquet and yells, “It’s your turn next!”

At her words, a cheer rises up from the crowd. They can cheer all they want. It doesn’t change a thing. Love is not for this woman. I’ve learned my lesson.

It’s past time to escape, but I don’t have a chance to stand before Lenny appears in front of me. Great. Another situation I don’t want to deal with. The man refuses to understand the term ‘friend zone’ no matter how many times I explain it to him.

But boy, oh boy is the man pretty to ogle. I fist my hands to stop from fanning myself at all the glory that is Lenny looming above me. The man may be over fifty but he’s still sexy as all get out. He has dark brown eyes I can’t seem to look away from, laugh lines around his eyes that tell me he enjoys a good time, and a dimple in his chin I want to lick while I scratch his always present five o’clock shadow.

He’s also several inches over six-foot-tall, and his clothes are covering up a whole bunch of muscles. Trust me. I know. For one delicious moment on New Year’s Eve, my hands roamed all over those muscles.

Unfortunately – ahem, I mean, fortunately – my mind overruled my body and reminded me of how all his friends and my friends are intertwined. Which is a dang shame. If they weren’t, I’d take him for a test drive with no intention of buying. Alas, things would get way too complicated way too quickly, and I can’t do complicated. Not yet, at least.

“Not now, Lenny,” I tell him before he can open his mouth.

I’m not blowing smoke up his ass – no matter how much I’d love to. Now is really not the time to discuss our non-relationship. This is a wedding. Weddings are for watching the newly married couple look disgustingly happy – gag – and laughing at all the single bridesmaids getting drunk and hitting on the single groomsmen.

Considering this wedding is happening on Valentine’s day, I would normally expect the single bridesmaids to jump on any single man in this place before the nuptials have even been spoken. Which would be absolutely hilarious to observe. But there’s one problem. Lenny and I are the only unattached people in the room. Even the bride’s son has a girlfriend.

Lenny ignores my warning – what’s new? – and leans over to place his hands on the back of my chair. He thinks he’s got me blocked in. Silly man. He forgets who I am and where I come from. Also, I don’t fight fair.

“Doll.”

I roll my eyes. He calls everyone doll. He doesn’t seriously believe I think he’s treating me special when he calls me the same endearment he uses for every other woman in his life, does he? How stupid does he think I am?

“When are you going to stop fighting our attraction, Lexi?”

I snort. “Um, never. Friend zone, remember? Do you need for me to explain it to you again?”

“You can’t fight our attraction forever.”

“Never going to happen.” Judging by the heads turning in our direction, I must have yelled. Oopsie.  

“It is,” he growls.

My insides quiver, and my middle tingles at the sound. I ignore my body’s response. It’s not running the show here. I am.

“Dream on.” I shove him out of my way before standing and marching away.

I make my way to the restroom, but I’m ambushed before I can open the door. My friend, Chrissie, stands blocking me with her arms crossed over her chest. I step back and slam into a different body. I whirl around to find another friend, Hailey, barring my escape route. Behind her stands the rest of the girl crew. Aka Suzie, Phoebe, Val, and Mary Ann.

“Goodie. The gang’s all here.”

Faith comes rushing down the hallway. “Wait for me.”

Correction. Now, the gang’s all here.

I’m still not convinced about this group of women. Except for Chrissie, I’ve only known them since I showed up on Christmas Day for Chrissie’s surprise wedding. She wasn’t the only one surprised. I didn’t know the woman was dating anyone, let alone ready to legally attach herself to a man. But her boyfriend, Wally, called me and told me to get my butt to Milwaukee if I wanted to be at my best friend’s wedding.

When I hopped on the plane in D.C., I didn’t believe for a minute Chrissie was getting married. I assumed the call was some part of an ambush. There was an ambush all right. Just not the kind requiring guns and grenades. Instead, Wally surprised Chrissie with a wedding on Christmas Day.  

Chrissie grabs my arm and frog marches to the office. She throws the door open like she owns McGraw’s Pub. She doesn’t. The bride’s husband, Max, owns the pub, which is why the wedding took place in a bar of all places.

As soon as I hear the door of the office click closed, I whirl around on the women. “What is wrong with you people?”

Phoebe raises her hand. “I’m pregnant, my feet are swollen, and I feel nauseous all the time.”

Suzie frowns at her. “She didn’t mean literally.”

“I did,” I say. Mostly, to hear what Suzie’s response is. The woman is crazy. The fun kind of crazy. Not the ‘I have to kill her to save the world’- kind. I’m finished with those kind since I quit my job.

“Oh, in that case, same as whiny girl here. Except for the nauseous thing. I’m over it.”

Mary Ann, who happens to be a nurse, asks Phoebe, “How far along are you? If you continue to feel nauseous, maybe you should discuss it with your OB/GYN.”

With the women distracted discussing pregnancy, I decide it’s time to take my leave. I’ve got the door open and one foot in the hallway when Chrissie stops me.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

I shrug. “Back to the party.”

A champagne cork pops, and Val waves a bottle in the air. “But the party is in here now. Don’t leave me here alone. The pregnant women can’t drink.”

Hailey’s hand shoots into the air. “I’m not pregnant.”

While Val pours glasses of champagne, I decide to try and sneak off again. Once more, I don’t make it far. Chrissie grunts before stomping to me, grabbing my upper arm, and dragging me back into the room. “It’s time for you to fess up.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Fess up? About what?”

She already knows I quit my job. I have no other secrets to tell. My phone in my pocket beeps with a message. Okay, maybe I have one more secret she doesn’t know about.

“I vote we let this play out,” Hailey says.

Suzie snorts. “Yeah, because today’s your day.”

I widen my eyes and pretend I don’t know what’s going on. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t act as if you don’t know,” Chrissie mutters.

Of course, I know. These women haven’t exactly made a secret of how they’re betting on when Lenny and I will burn up the sheets.

Mary Ann giggles. “Have I mentioned lately how much I love all of you?”

Val lifts her glass. “Here. Here.”

“Can we get this over with?” Faith asks. “I want to get back to my groom.”

I motion to the door. “By all means.”

She doesn’t move. “Not before you tell us what’s going on with you and Lenny.”

If you read the entry for ‘nosy’ in the dictionary, you’ll find a picture of this group. I thought my family was nosy, but they can’t hold a candle to these people.

“There’s nothing to tell.”

Hailey crosses her arms over her chest. “Really? Why was he caging you in your chair?”

“And why did he look like you stole his puppy when you walked away?” Val adds.

I place a hand on my chest and gasp. “I would never steal a puppy.”

Chrissie shoves everyone out of the way to stand in front of me. Her hands fist at her hips as if she’s preparing for battle.

“The quicker you answer our questions, the quicker you can return to the party.”

I place my hand on my chest and feign a tremble. “The big bad intimidating interrogator has arrived. I’m scared.” For good measure, I curl my button lip out in a pout.

Chrissie’s hands drop and her shoulders slump. “You’re one of my oldest friends. Why won’t you tell me what’s going on?”

I’m surprised she doesn’t wipe at her eyes as if tears are forming. There’s more than one way to interrogate a suspect after all. And Chrissie is an expert in all of the methods. I know this for a fact. We used to work together. While I was an analyst who kept my butt firmly imprinted on a chair behind a computer, Chrissie was out in the field doing all kinds of things that would give most people nightmares.

I decide to give in. I need to get out of this room before I fall for one of Chrissie’s interrogation methods and accidentally spill my secrets.   

“There’s nothing going on between Lenny and me.” Before I can finish, everyone’s shouting out their disbelief. I hold up my hand to cut them off.

“I’m serious. Lenny is in the friend zone. And it’s where he’s going to stay.”

Chrissie taps her chin as she studies me. I keep my face blank and wait. After thirty incredibly long seconds, a smile breaks out on her face.

“This is going to be fun.”

I don’t wait for whatever else she has to say. The smile is my get out of jail free card and I’m not wasting it. I open the door and hightail it away from the women.

Continue Reading

She has zero interest in a happily ever after. He won’t let another woman down. Too bad they can’t keep their hands off each other.

Who’s ready for Valerie and Barney’s love story?

In case it’s not clear, NEITHER one of them is ready. They both think love is for suckers. Valerie thinks relationships are for idiots, and Barney knows how relationships can crash and burn. Been there. Done that. He’s got the scars to prove it and absolutely zero interest in a repeat.

But when Valerie’s apartment is trashed, all bets are off.

Click here to find out

Want a sample before you buy? No problem. Here you go:

Chapter 1 We’re not socks, but I think we’d make a great pair.

“We need to talk, Valerie.” I scowl at Barney’s declaration. I have spent my entire life avoiding having the ‘talk’ with a man. Barney Lewis is not going to ruin my streak.

He may be one sexy middle-aged man – my hands itch to run through the soft texture of his black hair once again and his ever present five o’clock shadow gives my body all kinds of ideas of how his stubble will feel scratching certain areas of my delicate skin – but his handsome appearance doesn’t give him the right to boss me around.

Especially not when we’re at a wedding. A surprise wedding on Christmas day no less. Barney’s friend, Wally, proposed to his girlfriend, Chrissie, this morning, and then when they arrived at McGraw’s Pub to celebrate Christmas with everyone, he surprised her with a wedding. Naturally, Chrissie freaked out, but we got her down the aisle eventually.

Welp. Best get this stupid ‘talk’ over with, so I can get back to enjoying the party. I indicate the hallway leading to the restrooms. When he lifts his chin in agreement, I square my shoulders and march to the hallway as if I’m not dreading this stupid conversation.

Barney doesn’t immediately follow me. Of course not. He doesn’t want anyone to know what we’ve been up to after all. He made those thoughts perfectly clear when he ran away from me on Saturday evening after kissing the daylights out of me.

I reach the hallway and lean against the wall to wait. I cross my arms over my chest and tap my toe as I become impatient – or more impatient, I should say. I don’t want to be in the hallway having some conversation with Barney I don’t want to have. I want to be in the pub celebrating my friend getting married.

Barney appears at the mouth of the hallway and grabs my hand before leading me to the office. His friend, Max, owns McGraw’s Pub. Max is engaged to my friend, Faith, which is how I ended up in this bar in the first place.

“We need to talk,” he repeats once we’re behind the locked door in the office.

I stand in the middle of the room and place my hands on my hips. “So you said.” I raise an eyebrow and wait for him to speak.

He bites his lip and my mind flashes back to when we made out in this very office a few days ago. It was me biting his lip then. His responding growl made me want to throw him down on the floor and have my way with him. Unfortunately, the man made a break for it before I got the chance.

When Barney doesn’t speak, I throw my hands in the air. “Well? Are you going to say actual words or are you going to stand there and stare at me?”

“We need to talk.”

“Dude, you said those words three times already. Get to saying whatever you’ve got to say so we can get this over with and get back to the wedding reception.”

“It’s about us.”

“There is no us,” I interrupt to say.

I don’t do relationships. I may love romance – and I do seriously love romance – but I know better than to expect it for myself. It’s an illusion after all. Once there’s a ring on someone’s finger, they change and anything resembling love and romance flies out the window.

He clears his throat. “Exactly.”

“Good. We agree. Are we done here? I want to get my drink on and celebrate with Chrissie and my friends.”

My friends. I smile at those words. For such a long time, my only friend was Faith. And when Faith left Saint Louis with her son Ollie to live in Milwaukee, my circle of friends was reduced to zero. I can’t be mad at Faith for abandoning me, though, not when she found the love of her life in Max. He proposed to her on Thanksgiving and now they’re planning a Valentine’s Day wedding. I am beyond happy for her.

When I had to leave my job in Saint Louis, I decided to follow Faith to Milwaukee. It’s working out well thus far. Faith’s crazy group of friends didn’t hesitate to include me. Now, I feel more at home here than I ever did in Saint Louis despite growing up and living there my entire life.

“Don’t drink too much,” Barney orders.

“No man tells me what to do.” I march to the door to escape before this conversation becomes awkward – or more awkward, I should say.

Barney clamps a hand down on my shoulder to thwart my escape. I whirl around on him. “What is it now?”

“I don’t want you to be mad at me.”

“Dude, you could give a woman whiplash. You don’t want a relationship with me? Fine. I completely and totally understand. But don’t pretend to care how I feel.”

He growls. “I do care how you feel. You’re my fr—” He clears his throat. “You’re my brother’s woman’s friend.”

His brother’s woman’s friend? I roll my eyes. He can’t even say we’re friends? Geez. Thanks for nothing, pal.

“I’m not mad. I’m annoyed because I don’t want to be here.”

Pain flashes in his eyes before he blinks, and it’s gone. Did I say the guy could give a gal whiplash? I was wrong. He’s going to give me a migraine with the way he runs hot and cold.

I admit it was fun chasing after the guy for the past month. I do love a good chase. And the way he panicked every time I got close made it all the more fun. But since he’s made it perfectly clear he’s not up for a roll in the hay with me, I’m done chasing. I don’t chase men who don’t want to be chased. I’m not a predator.

I inhale a deep breath and straighten my shoulders. I guess I have to be the adult here. And I do hate being the adult. “I understand. You’re not interested. I’m a big girl. I can handle it.”

He rakes a hand through his hair. “It’s not…I’m not…”

I pat his shoulder. “It’s fine. Our lives are intertwined because of our friends. We can be casual acquaintances.”

I march to the door and fling it open to find Faith and her gang of friends – Suzie, Phoebe, and Hailey – waiting on me. Well, not all of the gang.

“Where’s Chrissie?” I ask.  

“She left for her honeymoon,” Faith answers.

“Honeymoon? Wally arranged a surprise wedding and a honeymoon? He literally proposed this morning. He must have been awful sure of himself.”

Suzie snorts. “Have you met Wally? The super-secret spy is very sure of himself.”

“Is he a super-secret spy if you know about it?”

We all think Wally is some type of super-spy after what happened with Chrissie. I don’t know much about it, but apparently, she was in danger from an ex. Wally gathered his former military buddies – including Barney – together and they managed to catch the guy. Since Chrissie is a badass herself, I can only imagine how scary the situation was.

Lexi saunters into the hallway but stops when she notices all of us standing there. Lexi is a friend of Chrissie’s who showed up at the last minute to attend the wedding. “What’s going on?”

Faith raises her eyebrow at me. “Exactly what I want to know.”

“Yeah, Valerie.” Suzie scans my body. “What were you doing locked up with Barney in the office?”

Hailey smiles and rubs her hands together. “They were obviously not getting down and dirty, which means I’m still in the running to win this bet.”

Faith frowns. “Christmas day isn’t over yet.”

I widen my eyes to feign innocence. Ha! I haven’t been innocent in a long ass time. “What are you talking about?”

I know exactly what they’re talking about. Barney and his friends bet on everything under the sun. Somehow the women got involved and now they throw out bets like crazy. Everyone’s currently betting on when Barney and I will finally ‘get together’. Considering the ‘talk’ Barney just subjected me to, Faith is definitely losing this bet.  

Speaking of Barney, where is he? He’s not in the office listening to us talk, is he? I glance over my shoulder, but he’s not there. What the heck?

“If you’re searching for Barney, he’s gone,” Hailey says. “My uncles can disappear into thin air.”

Hailey considers Barney and his friends her uncles since they helped raise her after her mom took off when she was young. In addition to Barney, the ‘uncles’ include Wally, Sid, and Lenny. All of them, plus Hailey’s dad, Max, know each other from their military days. The brothers are now handsome middle-aged men who haven’t let age slow them down one bit. Faith definitely hit the lottery when she walked into McGraw’s Pub searching for a job.

“Speaking of Barney,” Faith begins.

I hold up a hand to stop her. “Nope. I’m not talking about it.”

Her shoulders slump. “Okay.”

Suzie wrinkles her nose. “Okay? No, it’s not okay. I veto. I want to hear about it. Whatever it is.”

“I’m guessing it has something to do with Barney scrambling after Valerie on Saturday night after his ‘date’ showed up.” Hailey stares at me as if she’s waiting for me to contradict her.

She can keep waiting. I know Faith and her friends get all up in each other’s business, but I’m not telling them what happened. Not because I’m embarrassed. I’m not. Barney was the one who was embarrassed when Wally pranked him with a male date. I don’t know why. Being gay is nothing to be ashamed of.

But Barney’s embarrassment was to my advantage when he shoved me up against the wall and told me he was going to prove he’s not into men. It was one of the sexiest moments of my life. Unfortunately, the sexy ended there. After kissing all the common sense out of me, he ripped his mouth from mine and sauntered off without a word spoken.

Time for a diversion, because I’m not telling anyone what happened on Saturday night. I clap my hands. “Who’s ready to learn who the real karaoke queen is?”

Suzie’s hand shoots into the air. “It’s me.”

I wink at her. “I guess it’s time for you to prove it.”

Continue Reading

An eternal bachelor convinced he’s finally found ‘the one’ vs. a woman scarred by her past. It’s gonna get messy…

Who’s ready for Wally’s love story?

Wally, sure is. He’s waited nearly sixty years for ‘the one’. Unfortunately, Chrissie isn’t interested in love. She’s too busy worrying about a stalker. Besides, she knows from experience love can burst into flames – literally. But Wally defines the word ‘persistent’. (And maybe stubborn, too, but don’t tell him I said that)

Can Wally, the confirmed bachelor, tempt Chrissie into giving him a chance?

Click here to find out

Want a sample before you buy? No problem. Here you go:

Chapter 1Why is it called the Secret Service if everyone knows about it?

“Welcome to You Cheat, We Eat,” I greet the woman entering the PI offices. “How can I help you today?”

The woman pauses for a moment before screaming like a banshee and launching herself at me. I sigh before getting to my feet and rounding my desk to meet her. I barely stop myself from rolling my eyes at her. Does she seriously think she can take me on?

I’m five-foot-ten, highly trained, and keep myself in shape by lifting weights a few times a week and jogging nearly every day. The woman ‘attacking’ me is approximately five-foot-three, dressed in cumbersome clothing constraining her movements, and is obviously untrained.

I say untrained because she’s flailing her arms at me like she’s a windmill. Does she think she’s Don Quixote? Snort. I know chivalry is dead unlike the knight errant who read way too many romances before deciding to revive the social code of conduct. Another reason to stay far, far away from romance.

I grasp her wrists and spin her around to pin them behind her back. The woman’s shoulders slump and her legs give out from her as she wails. I maneuver her until she’s sitting in a chair and release my hold on her.

“Hailey!” I shout because I can deal with danger, but I don’t deal with emotion and a woman bawling her eyes out qualifies as emotion even if she did ‘attack’ me mere moments ago.

Hailey is my boss at You Cheat, We Eat. As the name suggests, the PI firm specializes in finding spouses who don’t honor their vows. I’m nearly two decades older than my boss and I have the experience to work as a PI, but I’m not interested.

I’m done with wading through the filth of humanity, thank you very much. I’ll stick to accounting, invoicing, filing, and the other boring administrative stuff for now. Although, I do run background checks for all the investigators.

Hailey rushes out of her office, a 9 mm in her hand. Her hand drops when she sees the woman sitting in the chair sobbing her heart out. “Oh.”

I frown. “Yeah. Oh.” I motion my hand toward the woman. “You’re up.”

Phoebe, the other PI at the firm, peeks her head out of her office. She blows out a breath of air when she realizes there’s no danger. “I heard a scuffle, but the big guy wouldn’t let me out of the room to back you up.”

I raise an eyebrow and stare at her. Back me up? She’s hilarious. One, I don’t need backup. Ever. And two, Phoebe couldn’t back me up if she tried. The woman is Ms. Fashionista. Seriously. She’s currently wearing a dress that hugs all her curves and three-inch heels. I don’t know anything about fashion, but I do know enough to recognize expensive, and her clothes are definitely expensive.

I hear a grunt before her husband, Ryker, joins her at the door. Ryker is a badass bounty hunter. At six-foot-six, he’s a mountain of a man. I could still take him.

“Chrissie didn’t need your help.” He stares at me as if expecting me to respond to his statement with information about my background. He can keep staring because I’m not revealing any of my secrets to him or Hailey or Phoebe. I may consider the women my friends, but secrets are meant to remain private for a reason.

“It’s all your fault,” the woman screams and points at Hailey.

Hailey’s eyes widen. “My fault? What did I do?”

“You caught my husband cheating and now he’s left me for the other woman. He’s not supposed to leave me for the other woman! He’s supposed to fall to his knees and pledge his undying love to me.”

I keep my face passive, but inside I’m shaking my head in disbelief at this woman. Someone else who’s been reading too many romance novels.

Hailey’s head tilts to the side as she studies the woman. “Mrs. Winter?” At the woman’s nod, she kneels in front of her. “Why don’t you come into my office, and we can discuss this?”

Mrs. Winter rears back. “What’s there to discuss? Like you would know anything about betrayal with your perfect little life with your perfect little husband.”

She’s not wrong. Hailey married her high school crush, Aiden, at the beginning of the year. The two are still in their ‘honeymoon’ period and are disgustingly perfect. They can’t keep their hands off of each other, but if they think they can have nookie time while I’m in charge of this office, they’ve got another thing coming.

Phoebe raises her hand. “I know a lot about betrayal. Do you want to get a coffee with me?”

Phoebe’s not lying. I don’t know the whole story, but her first husband apparently was a complete and utter dick. In fact, he’s currently in prison for kidnapping her. He wanted to force her to have his children.

Gorgeous women always cause men to lose their minds and, make no mistake about it, Phoebe is gorgeous. She has exotic green eyes with a slight slant to them set in a heart-shaped face. And her body is a perfect hourglass shape.

Hailey is no slouch either. She doesn’t have curves like Phoebe, but she has the whole lithe dancer body thing going on. With her long brown wavy hair and dark brown eyes, she looks like she was the head cheerleader in high school. She wasn’t, though. Apparently, she was a bit of a drama geek and Aiden bullied her about it. There’s definitely a story there.

Mrs. Winter glares at Phoebe. “What would you know about betrayal? You’re beautiful.”

And beautiful people don’t know anything about betrayal? Trust me, betrayal is blind.

Ryker growls and stands in front of Phoebe. “You will not talk to my wife in this manner.”

Sigh. He had to say wife, didn’t he? Idiot. The word wife is totally going to set her off.

“Wife!” she screams and points at Phoebe. “You have no idea.”

“You’re done,” Ryker declares before approaching Mrs. Winter. He hoists her from the chair by her arm before proceeding to escort her out of the office and down the hall to the elevator.

Once she’s on the elevator with the doors closed behind her, he marches back to the office. He glares at me. “You should have handled her.”

I raise an eyebrow. “She wasn’t dangerous.”

“She was rude to my wife.”

“Rude doesn’t equal dangerous. You should know this.”

His nostrils flare as he stares at me. I fold my arms across my chest and stare right back at him. Does he think he can intimidate me? Silly man.

Phoebe tugs on her husband’s arm. “Leave Chrissie alone. Her job isn’t to keep me safe.”

Before Ryker can speak, I do. “You weren’t in danger, Phoebe. And I will make certain you’re always safe when you’re in the office.”

“Maybe we should get you a weapon.” Hailey’s nose scrunches as she considers the idea. “This isn’t the first crazy client we’ve had, and it won’t be the last.”

“I can deal with crazy.” And I can. “Crazy doesn’t equal dangerous, but I can deal with dangerous as well.” Because I already have a weapon.

Ryker grunts and spins on his heel to return to his office. This is his M.O. whenever he thinks the talk will turn to ‘women’s shit’. His words. Not mine.

Phoebe and Hailey sit in the chairs across from my desk. They appear to be settling in for a talk. Oh goodie. In case you missed it, I’m being sarcastic.

“We can get the uncles to teach you to shoot,” Hailey suggests.

The uncles aren’t Hailey’s blood relatives. It’s a group of four men who served with Hailey’s dad in the military.

“I don’t need anyone to teach me how to shoot. Certainly not the uncles.”

Phoebe waggles her eyebrows. “Not even Wally?”

At the mention of Wally, my belly flutters. The guy drives me absolutely bananas, but I can’t deny he’s one handsome man. I put his age somewhere in his fifties, but he doesn’t look a day over forty.

His black hair doesn’t have a hint of gray in it, although his beard is dotted with gray making him appear distinguished. Judging by his broad shoulders and strong biceps, he keeps himself in shape. And I do appreciate a man who takes care of himself. But it’s his eyes that get to me. They’re dark green and when he stares at me, it’s like he’s peering into my soul.

Wally and the rest of the ‘uncles’ retired from the Army ages ago, but I suspect Wally hasn’t completely retired, however. Not when I know he’s been digging into my past. He’s pissed off because he ran into a brick wall. A brick wall I have no intention of pulling down or letting him scale. Skeletons should stay hidden in the closet for a reason.  

“I can shoot.”

Hailey leans closer. “You can? How did you learn? When did you learn? Where did you learn?”

I don’t fill her in on the details. They don’t need to know the US government taught me to shoot nearly every weapon known to man. I shrug instead.

“It doesn’t matter.”

Phoebe giggles. “Wrong thing to say. Now, you’ve made her curious. She’s going to dig and dig until she finds out all the answers to her questions.”

Hailey frowns. “I think you have me confused with Suzie. I can allow my friends to have secrets.”

Suzie is Hailey’s business partner. She used to be the office manager until her brewery business took off. Now, she spends her days brewing beer and I do her job.

Phoebe snorts. “Yeah, right.”

The phone rings and offers me a reprieve. I know better than to dive on the distraction, though. Diving would pique Hailey’s curiosity more than it already is. She won’t find anything if she digs around in my past, but I don’t want to spend the rest of my working days evading her questions either.

“Are you going to answer the phone?” Hailey asks.

“Are we finished with this conversation? I didn’t want to appear rude.”

Hailey stands. “We’re done.”

Phoebe’s nose wrinkles. “We are?”

As I watch Hailey and Phoebe return to their respective offices, I think about how exhausting it is to be friends with people you can’t tell the truth about your past. This is why I’ve never had close friends outside people I met at ‘the office’ before. I should back off from their friendship for a while. I nod to myself. It’s for the best.

Decision made, I pick up the phone.

Continue Reading

Can a cynic find love with a Dutchman?

Dutch Online is here! It’s the fifth and – sniff, sniff – final book of the Love in the Lowlands series.

Dutch Online is the love story of Sofia and Rafael. Sofia is the definition of weary of dating. When men date you to meet your beautiful mom, it’s just plain creepy. And Rafael doesn’t have time for love in between three jobs and raising a sister who’s ill with kidney disease. But the two enjoy chatting to each other online. And Sofia may have even developed a bit of a crush on Rafael – sight unseen.

But when they meet in person, it’s a disaster. A prank gone wrong may cause this love story to stall before it can even begin.

One Click Now

What’s that? You need more before you can make up your mind? I aim to please! Here’s the first chapter to whet your appetite: 

Chapter 1

“Can I help you?” I ask when a man sits next to me at the restaurant where I’m waiting for my parents to arrive for Sunday brunch. This guy – whoever he is – is not invited, and he’s certainly not welcome.  

He winks at me. “I think it’s me who can help you.”

I groan. It’s barely 11 a.m. It’s way too early for some random dude to be sprouting stupid pick-up lines.

“I think you’ve got the wrong table, buddy,” I tell him.

Before he can respond, I hear a ruckus at the entrance to the restaurant. Sounds like my parents have arrived. I check my watch. Ten minutes past eleven. Wow. They’re barely late today.

I watch as Mama sends air kisses to everyone and anyone. She does like to make an entrance. If I’m being objective – a feat I find difficult to achieve with regard to Mama – she doesn’t have to work hard at it considering she’s six-foot-tall, has the legs of a ballet dancer, and the face of a model, which makes sense since she is a model.

I stand when she reaches the table. “Mama,” I whisper in greeting as I kiss her cheeks.

“How are you, my little rabbit?”

Before I can answer, she notices the man sitting at the table and claps her hand. “I see you’ve met Tyson.”

Awesome. I’ve been set up by my mother – again. I’m thirty-one years old. The last thing I need is for my mom to find me a man. Mama disagrees. She thinks a man is exactly what I need. It’s not. Especially not the type of man she’s always throwing at me.  

I growl. “Mama.”

“Now, now, don’t be snippy with your mama.” My father leans over and kisses my cheeks.

“Hello, Pai.”

He pulls out a chair for my mother, and she sends him a wink over her shoulder. My parents are like yin and yang. Pai is Afro-Brazilian, whereas Mama is Russian with the palest of pale skins. I don’t think she’s ever enjoyed the sun on her face. I’m not exaggerating. As a model, Mama avoids the sun.

When I was young, I went through a phase during which I was convinced she was a vampire. All the facts lined up – she doesn’t go out in the sun, she doesn’t look a day over thirty, and she hardly ever eats human food. I might have been a bit obsessed with vampire romance in those days.

As soon as Mama’s butt hits the chair, a waiter nearly trips over his own shoes in his rush to our table to take our order. Correction – Mama’s order. While he bats his lashes at Mama, he doesn’t bother to notice the rest of us. You get used to being invisible when your mother is a Russian supermodel.

My father was a model too, but he quit the business soon after I was born. While my mother continued her career, he raised me, and we followed her around the globe to wherever she was working. Being homeschooled while spending your days at various photoshoots throughout the world isn’t as glamorous as it sounds.

“Let’s get the introductions over with, shall we?” Mama says with a big smile on her face. I know this smile. It means she thinks she’s won. Ha! As if. She can force me to have brunch with this man, but she can’t force me to go out on an actual date with him.    

“Tyson, this is my daughter, Fifi.”

I cringe at her use of my childhood nickname. I extend my hand to him. “It’s Sofia actually.”

His hand is limp in mine. “Are you a model like your mother?” He winks at my mom.

“Um, no. I’m a photographer.”

His eyes widen like he’s surprised. “You’re Fifi Silva? The photographer?”

I stop myself before I roll my eyes. Mama loses her mind when I act ‘childish’ and rolling your eyes no matter your age is considered childish in her book. I nod instead.

Tyson places his hand on his chest and gasps. I hope this guy isn’t trying to break into acting because I’m not buying his little act.

“Sasha didn’t tell me her daughter is a famous photographer.”

The snort is out before I can stop it. Mama clears her throat. If she were a normal mother – one who isn’t worried facial expressions cause wrinkles – she’d be frowning at me big time.

“I’m not a famous photographer.” My name is known in the fashion world, but it’s not where my heart lies. Artistic photography doesn’t pay the bills, though.

Tyson completely ignores my words. “What are you working on now? Do you have a shoot coming up? Do you know if they need any talent? Any male talent if you know what I mean.”

How would I know if they need any talent? It’s not like I’m in charge of selecting the models. My job is to show up when they tell me to, do my magic, and leave. I don’t want to be involved with fashion photography any more than that. In fact, I’d give up fashion photography completely if I could. But I can’t. It pays the bills. And there are always bills to be paid.   

“But, Fifi, maybe you could see if Tyson could work on your next shoot,” my mother pushes.

“I’m not working on any fashion shoots at the moment.”

Pai leans forward. “What are you working on, baby girl?”

Pai and I share a special bond since we spent practically every waking moment together until I hit fourteen and was allowed to attend an actual high school. He knows my love of photography has nothing to do with taking pictures of beautiful people.

“I have a show coming up at a little gallery in Chelsea,” I tell him.

“This is wonderful.”

He raises a hand and snaps his fingers. A waitress appears within seconds. My Pai may be nearing sixty, but he remains gorgeous with his smooth dark skin, bright green eyes, high cheekbones, and strong jaw. Between mama and Pai we always receive good service at restaurants.

“A round of Caipirinhas,” he orders.

Mama immediately corrects him. “You know I don’t drink sugar. A bottle of vodka.”

“Why don’t you ask Tyson to tell you about himself?” Mama isn’t asking. She never asks. She orders in question form. It’s an art.

“Tyson, why don’t you tell me about yourself?” I ask like the dutiful daughter I am.

His phone buzzes and he picks it up from where it’s sitting next to his glass of water. He reads the message and types a reply before responding to me. “What did you say?”

Great. Another person who is as obsessed with his phone as he is with his appearance. Where does my mother find these men?

I force myself to repeat the question. “I asked if you could tell me about yourself.”

He gives me what I call the model smile – all teeth and zero genuineness. 

“I’m Tyson no last name, twenty-four, six-foot-two, one-hundred-sixty pounds, and I specialize in fashion modeling.”

I don’t bother responding to him. Instead, I cock an eyebrow at my mother. Is she serious? She’s setting me up with twenty-four-year-olds now? Did she forget how old I am?

I’m not allowed to say I’m thirty-one in her presence. If I’m thirty-one, then she can’t pretend to be thirty-nine. I’ll keep silent, but if she expects me to outright lie about my age, she’s got another thing coming.

“He’s in the prime of his life,” is her response.

My dad clears his throat and puffs out his chest. “I’m in the prime of my life.”

Mama pats his arm. “Of course, you are, dear. Of course, you are.”

Tyson’s phone buzzes again. He chuckles as he reads the message before typing in a response. I’ve had about enough of this.

“Excuse me,” I say and stand. “I need the restroom.”

He doesn’t bother looking up from his phone as I step away from the table. Mama really picked a winner with this one.

I find the restroom and lock myself in. I wish I could claim a bad case of the stomach flu, but I can’t. Mama is a complete germaphobe who would have an ambulance here before I can finish saying stomach flu.

I wash my hands and give myself a little pep talk instead. It’s one Sunday a month. I can handle Mama and her scheming for a few hours once a month. Pep talk done I step out of the restroom to find my father waiting on me.

He doesn’t say a word and hauls me into his arms. “I’m sorry, baby girl. Your mama doesn’t mean to hurt you. She wants you to be happy.”

“I am happy. I don’t need a man to make me happy.”

“I know, Sofia. I know. But she worries about you. You don’t have a man. You don’t date.”

At his words, all common sense abandons me. “What if I had a man?”

He loosens his grip to gaze down at me. “You have a man? This is wonderful news.”

“No, I meant—” I don’t get a chance to explain I was speaking hypothetically before he’s dragging me through the restaurant.

“Sasha, Sasha,” he shouts as we approach the table. “Our baby girl has a man.”

“I—” I open my mouth to explain the misunderstanding, but I don’t get a chance before Mama is jumping from her chair and embracing me.

“This is wonderful news, my little rabbit. Such wonderful news.” She releases me and I see she’s smiling.

She’s actually smiling and it’s not for a camera. Shit. Shit. Shit. There’s no way I can say I don’t have a man now.

“Sit. Sit. Sit.” She points at Tyson. “You go now.”

At her words, he finally stops concentrating on his phone and looks up. “But you said—”

“Leave,” I tell him. “Whatever she promised you isn’t going to happen anyway.”

“I should have known. There’s a reason everyone in the industry calls you an uptight bitch,” he snarls at me before spinning around and stomping out of the restaurant.

“Ignore him.” Mama pours shots of vodka. “Now, we drink.”

She hands me a glass and raises hers. “To my Sofia finding love.”

Love? Who said anything about love? I’ve seen enough of the world to know the love my parents share is rare. I have a better chance of finding an Alpa Reflex Model I camera in perfect condition than love.

But my mama is a romantic. She’s convinced I need to find love to be happy and now she thinks I’ve found it.

I slam my shot of vodka.

This isn’t going to end well for me.

Must Read More!

Can a vacation romance turn into a happily ever after? If Char has anything to say about it, it can and will.

Dutch Courage is here! The fourth book in the Love in the Lowlands series is Char’s story. 

When Nico runs Char over with his bike on the Greek island of Rhodes, Char looks up to find a Greek god staring down at her. Actually, Nico is Dutch, but she’s not being picky.

Two days in Greece turn into a long-distance relationship, but Char wants more than occasional visits. She gives up her life in Wisconsin and moves to Holland to be with Nico. Except when she arrives in Holland, Nico ghosts her.

She probably should have told him she was moving across the ocean to live in The Hague to be near him before giving up everything back home. She needs to figure out what to do pronto before her brand-spanking-new American friends in The Hague take over.  

She just needs to gather a bit of Dutch Courage first.

One-Click Now!

What’s that? You need more before you can make up your mind? I aim to please! Here’s the first chapter to whet your appetite: 

Chapter 1Do you believe in love at first sight, or should I hit you with my bike again?

I lift my face to the sun and throw out my arms before twirling around in a circle.

“Isn’t this wonderful? The absolute best! Can you believe this weather? Why don’t we live here full-time? Back home, they’re in the middle of a spring snowstorm and here we are with the sun shining and blue skies.”

“It’s bad karma to rub the weather in people’s faces,” my sister, Robin, points out.

I let my arms drop and stick my tongue out at her. “Don’t be a Debbie Downer. I’m not rubbing it in anyone’s face. I’m merely commenting on how wonderful the weather here in Greece is and enjoying not being in cold Wisconsin.” I do an exaggerated shiver at the idea of being back home right now.

Don’t get me wrong. I love my home. There’s a lot to love. My family and friends are nearby. I have a great job that fulfills me even if it sounds corny to say so. And my apartment is absolutely adorable. But the weather? Yuck. A thousand times yuck.

I am not going to think about snow in April right now. I’m on the Greek island of Rhodes and not back home dealing with snow boots, shoveling the driveway, or having my fifteen-minute commute turn into a two-hour drama. I shake my head and push those thoughts right out of my mind.

“I don’t understand why we can’t be on the beach right now,” Robin whines.

“We have plenty of time to lay on the beach. I want to see this monastery.”

“Of course, you do.” Do I detect a fair bit of sarcasm coming from my dear sister? Why, yes. Yes, I do. “But why do we have to hike up this hill? We could have rented a car.”

We’re on our way to the Monastery of Filerimos. I’m absolutely dying to visit since the architecture is different than the usual monasteries in Greece. It was built by the Knights of Saint John in the 15th Century and constructed with stone in a Gothic style.

I wish I was an architect. But after two classes in architectural making at college, I realized I’m more into looking at pretty buildings than I am into designing them. I thought about studying art history, but my dad nearly had a coronary at the idea. Since he paid for my college education and I didn’t want to put him in an early grave, I chose to major in accounting.

“It’s great exercise. After we’ve done this hike, we’ll be able to eat and drink whatever we want all day long without feeling guilty. We can laze at the beach and do absolutely nothing while drinking those fancy cocktails you like.”

“I wouldn’t have felt guilty without doing this ten-mile hike,” she grumbles.  

“It’s ten kilometers, not ten miles. There’s one point six miles in a kilometer making the hike slightly over six miles. Six point two miles to be exact. If I’m being truly accurate, it’s six point two one three seven miles.”

She shoves my shoulder. “Math nerd.”

“Being able to divide ten by one point six does not make me a math nerd.”

Truth is I am a bit of a math nerd. You have to at least like math to end up in accounting. Numbers, numbers, numbers – it’s what we do all day long every day of the year.

I thread my arm through her elbow. “Come on. I think this is the last curve before we see the monastery.”

We’re doing our best to hug the side of the road as we walk since there’s not much of a shoulder on this hilly road. As we follow the bend in the road, I hear shouting before a bike appears out of the blue.

“Watch out,” the biker shouts.

I push Robin to the side, but there’s no time for me to escape. The breaks on the bike squeal as the rider tries to stop his forward momentum, but it’s too late. He barrels right into me. I fly into the bush as the bike crashes on its side.

“Shit. Shit. Are you okay? How do you ask if you’re okay in Greek?”

“Ow! How the hell would I know?” I ask as I rub the shoulder I fell on. It feels wet. I pull my hand away to look at it and discover it’s covered in blood. Crap.

“Move out on my way, you big behemoth. Let me see my sister.”

“I was a scout. I know first aid,” he says as he examines at my shoulder. “Verdorie! You’re bleeding.”

I hold up my hand covered in blood. “No shit, Sherlock. What was your first clue?”

He chuckles. “An English woman with a sense of humor. I thought they didn’t exist.”

I glare at him. “I’m not English. I’m American, you imbecile.”

He inclines his head. “My apologies. Now, do you have any bandages with you? We need to clean the wound and cover it.”

“Yes, of course, I do. I always carry a package of bandages and antibiotic crème with me while I’m hiking in the wilds of Greece.”

He smiles. “Excellent.”

“I’m being sarcastic. Don’t they have sarcasm in Greece?”

“Oh, I’m not Greek. I’m Dutch. Nicolaas de Ruiter at your service.” He does a little bow.

Despite my shoulder burning something fierce, I take a moment to check out the man. He has dark wavy hair I want to run my hands through to see if it’s as soft as it looks. My hands itch to touch his olive-toned skin to discover if the color is natural or the result of suntanning on the beach. His eyes are dark brown and, despite the circumstances, sparkling with mirth. I don’t know what he thinks is amusing, but I want to find out.

I’m forgiving myself for thinking he was Greek because he most definitely looks Greek. In fact, he looks like a man you’d find on the cover of some vacation romance novel set in Greece.  

“I’m Charlotte. You can call me Char or Charlotte, but never Charlie.” I wrinkle my nose. “Charlie is a boy’s name. And the woman leaning over your shoulder is my sister Robin. We’re on vacation.”

“Is the introduction hour over now?” Robin asks. “Maybe we can take care of your shoulder. You know, the one that’s bleeding.” Sarcasm runs in our family.

Before I have a chance to respond, Nicolaas stands and whips off his t-shirt. Now, this is the picture you’ll find on the cover of a romance novel. A sexy romance novel. Wowzer! Someone works out. I lift my hand to touch the ridges of his six-pack abs, but then I remember I literally met this man less than five minutes ago. No touching allowed, Char.

“Here,” he says and places his t-shirt against my bleeding shoulder.

“Ouch! Take it easy. Looking like a Greek god doesn’t give you all-healing powers you know.”  

“You think I look like a Greek god? I may not be Greek but for you, I can pretend.” He winks.

Robin shoves him out of the way. “Maybe we should clean the wound first, lady killer.” She peels the t-shirt away and lifts her water bottle to douse me. I raise my hands to stop her.

“Let’s wait to clean the wound until we’re somewhere I can take my shirt off.” I’m wearing a white tank top. There’s no way she can clean my shoulder without it getting wet. The whole word doesn’t need to get a look at my bra.

Nicolaas wiggles his eyebrows at me. “I can take your top off for you.”

I shove him away. “Creep.”

“I’m merely trying to help.”

A bike skids to a stop next to us. “Wat is er gebeurd?”

Nicolaas motions to the man on the bike. “This is my friend Guus.”

I glance over at the man, but I’m having a hard time looking away from Nicolaas’ bare chest. I notice there’s a smattering of dark hair near his belly button, but otherwise, his chest is devoid of hair. I do love a man who doesn’t have too much chest hair. Miles of smooth skin for my hands to explore.

“We need to get you back to the hotel to clean your wound.” Robin’s words break my trance.

Yes, Charlotte, maybe you should concentrate on being injured instead of drooling over some guy you just met. Some guy who is the reason you’re injured in the first place.

“Okay,” I say and stumble to my feet with Nicolaas’ help.

“Come on. I’ll take you on my bike.”

My eyes widen. He has got to be kidding me. “I’m not getting on that death trap!”

He places his hands over his heart and flutters his lashes. “I’m wounded. A dutchman’s bike is sacred.”

I roll my eyes. “Whatever. I’m not riding on the handlebars.”

“It’s too far to walk back with you injured,” Robin points out.

“Here.” Nicolaas shoves the bike my way. “You can take my bike. I’ll walk back and pick my bike up at your hotel later.”

I bite my lip and study the bike. I haven’t been on one since I was a teenager. And the road is steep as all get out. Trust me, I know. I walked up it.

“Come on,” he pushes, “it’s the least I can do since I ran into you and all.” He’s not wrong.

I guess biking is better than walking. I grab hold of the handlebars. “Thank you,” I say before telling him the name of the hotel where we’re staying and hop on the bike.

“Hey! What about me?” Robin shouts before I can leave.

Guus grunts. “Here. Take my bike.”

I offer Nicolaas his shirt, but he cringes when he sees his white t-shirt is now stained red. “It’s fine. You keep it.”

The bike wobbles as I start pedaling. I tighten my grip on the handlebars. I can do this. There’s a reason for the saying it’s like riding a bike after all.

“See you later,” I shout at Nicolaas and Guus, but I don’t look back. I don’t trust myself to not wipe out if I look anywhere but straight in front of me. One accident is my limit for the day.    

Must Read More

Mia doesn’t want a real relationship, but Matthijs is determined to change her mind in any way he can 😏

Double Dutch is here! The third book in the Love in the Lowlands series is Mia’s story. 

Mia thought moving to Holland would give her marriage a second chance. Her husband Bob obviously doesn’t agree. Nope. Mr. Cheater McCheaterson is up to his old tricks. The jerk takes it even further and runs off to Prague to live with his girlfriend. And now Mia’s stuck in The Hague with no husband and a dubious legal status to stay in the country. Enter Matthijs and an offer to fake a relationship. Only, Matthijs isn’t faking a thing. 

Ready to read all about how their love story pans out?

One-Click Now!

What’s that? You need more before you can make up your mind? I aim to please! Here’s the first chapter to whet your appetite: 

Chapter 1Friend – a person who thinks it’s okay to bang your door down when all you want is to be left the hell alone

Bang! Bang! Bang!

“Let us in,” Abby shouts. I swear the woman has the largest set of lungs in The Hague. Instead of a nerdy engineer, she should be a newspaper hawker. Although, those don’t actually exist anymore.  

I walk to the door and lean against it while she continues to shout the place down.

“Please,” Avery begs when Abby takes a break. “We don’t want you to be alone.”

I chew on my thumbnail as I consider how to answer. This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have called Abby blubbering like a little girl. It’s not the first time Abby has rushed to my side when my husband and I were having problems. Husband. Yeah, right. Some kind of husband Bob is.  

“I want to be alone,” I finally whisper through the door.

“You may want to be alone, Mia. But being alone is the last thing you need right now,” Avery insists.

I unlock the door, but before I can open it, Abby pushes her way through. “Where’s the asshole? I need to show him my right hook.”

She marches off in search of Bob. Good luck finding him here. Even before he left me, he was never here. And now the tears are flowing again. Stupid tears.  

Avery hauls me into her arms and rocks me back and forth. “I’m sorry.”

“Where is he?”

I untangle myself from Avery’s grasp to find Abby standing in the hallway with her hands fisted on her hips.

“Gone,” I whisper. The idea of telling my two closest friends who are obnoxiously in love with their partners how I couldn’t make my marriage work makes my stomach churn. I’m such a failure.   

“Like gone-gone?” Abby asks and opens the door to the bedroom to inspect for herself. “His clothes aren’t here,” she shouts from inside.

Avery takes my hand and leads me toward the living room. “Ignore her. She’s going to do what she’s going to do.”

“I’m beginning to think I should have let her give birth to Sylvia in the middle of the common area,” I mutter.

It sounds like a movie, but I seriously met Abby five minutes before her water broke and had to rush her to the hospital before she gave birth in the common area of the apartment building since her husband, Jasper, was nowhere to be found.

“Oh, my wonderful nerd!” Abby shouts, and I cringe. Darn it. I should have locked the spare bedroom.

She sticks her head out of the room and motions to Avery. “You have got to see this!”

“Maybe we should concentrate on helping Mia instead of whatever crazy shit you’re currently up to,” Avery suggests.

“No freaking way. This is the absolute best. The best!” Abby raises her fist in victory.

Avery bites her lips before shrugging. “Sorry, Mia. But I can’t resist.” She steps toward the room.

I seize her wrist to try and stop her. “No.” I may be an inch taller and several inches wider than Avery, but she has no problem dragging me into the spare bedroom.

Her mouth drops open as she looks around at the historical model I’ve painstakingly built over the past year.

“This is what you’re excited about? I thought you found a dead body. Preferably Bob’s dead body. I was already sifting through a list of lawyer friends in my head to find a defense attorney for Mia.”

Avery and her boyfriend, Niels, are lawyers. Avery is actually Niels’ boss. While she’s an uptight lawyer, he’s a fun-loving guy who doesn’t take anything too seriously. Watching her fight her attraction to the man has been the best entertainment over the past year.   

Abby snorts. “Defense attorney. If I found Bob’s body, we’d be getting our shovels and a bunch of burly men to help us bury him in the dunes.”

I plant my hands on my hips and glare at her. “Bob does not deserve a burial in the dunes. You know it’s where the Nazis shot and killed resistance members. It would be a disservice to those heroes to bury Bob there.”

“I didn’t know resistance members were buried in the dunes but considering this…” Abby indicates my model of Operation Market Garden – aka the allied forces offensive to rid the Netherlands of the Nazi occupation – with a flick of her hand. “You certainly do.”

I blush. “Can we stop talking about my model now?”

Abby smirks. “Of course, we can. Let’s talk about where Bob is.”

Ugh. I walked right into that, didn’t I? “Do you want me to explain the model?” I backpedal.

I don’t wait for them to answer, because I know what their answer will be. And no, I don’t want to talk about my lying, cheating, scum of a husband.

“Operation Market Garden was an unsuccessful military operation fought in the Netherlands in September 1944. It was the brainchild of Montgomery—”

“Whoa!” Avery lifts a hand in a stop motion. “I’m going to stop you right there. As much as I’d love to learn more about the history of the Netherlands, I want to hear why Bob’s things are gone.”

“Sucky. I want to nerd out over the discovery of Mia’s nerdiness, but Avery’s right. Where’s Bob?”

I do an about-face and march to the kitchen. If we’re talking about Bob, I need a glass of wine. One glass of wine? More like a gallon of wine.

“You get the wine. I’ll get Mia,” Avery bosses before she places her hands on my shoulders to guide me to my sofa. Abby arrives moments later and shoves a glass of wine in my hand.

“Welp. Tell us what happened. Did Bob finally admit he’s a cheating piece of scum I wouldn’t bother to scrape off my boots and you kicked him to the curb?” Abby asks as she collapses in a chair.

Avery wraps an arm around my shoulders. “A little sensitivity, Abby.”

She rolls her eyes in response. “If you want sensitive, you called the wrong person. And may I remind everyone, Mia called me. Not you.”

“Of course, she called you. She didn’t want to ruin my surprise party.” Avery frowns at me. “Total bullshit by the way.”

On no! I ruined her party. Niels surprised her today with a house he bought for her. A house Avery’s been drooling over since she first relocated to Holland. Her party completely slipped my mind. Some kind of friend I am.

I go to slap myself upside the head. Unfortunately, I forgot I’m holding a glass of wine, and the wine spills everywhere. I look down. I’m a complete disaster. My blouse gapes open as it’s a tad bit too tight. My jeans are practically threadbare after wearing them nearly every day since I can’t fit into any other pairs. And now there’s wine spilled all over me. No wonder my husband left me.

Abby growls. “No. Don’t you dare go there. You are a gorgeous woman. The only person who doesn’t see how lovely you are is you.”

I grunt. “And Bob.”

Avery clears her throat. “I disagree, Mia. I think Bob knows how lovely you are. Why do you think he puts you down all the time?” She holds up a hand when I go to reply. “It’s not because you’re fat, because you are not fat. No, it’s because he knows you’re too damn good for him and doesn’t deserve you.”

“Amen, sister!” Abby shouts before clapping.

“If he knows I’m too good for him, why did he leave me?” I ask my jeans because I’m too much of a chicken to look my friends in the face as I admit how I failed to keep my marriage together.

Abby rolls her eyes. “Duh. Because he’s an asshole. Exhibit number 1 – he was cheating on you.”

I gasp. “You knew?”

“Um, yeah, Mia, I knew. He may not work for my team, but we work in the same department. And men talk. They say women gossip, but men have big ass mouths.”

Abby is a project manager in the engineering department at Petroix Oil, the company Bob also works for as an engineer. Avery works there, too. Not in the engineering department, obviously. She’s the head legal counsel of the entire company.

“Did you know?” I ask Avery.

She shakes her head. “No, but I suspected. There’s no reason to travel as much as he did for ‘work’ after all.”

I slam my wine glass on the table and jump to my feet. “This is great. Just great. Everyone knew he was cheating on me. I’m humiliated.”

“She’s mad. This is good,” Abby says to Avery.

“Angry is better than heartbroken,” Avery responds.

“The worst part is this isn’t the first time. Why the hell do you think we came to Holland in the first place?”

Abby raises her hand. “Because it’s awesome!”

I ignore her to continue my rant. “Bob was messing around with a woman on his team back home in Atlanta. When I found out, I told him to choose – her or me. He chose me, but he worked with her every day. I couldn’t handle it. When an opportunity arose to transfer to The Hague, I demanded he take it. I thought it would be a fresh start for us. Fresh start? Yeah, right. It didn’t take but a month before he was leaving the room to take calls and spending more time traveling than at home.”

“You’re better off without him,” Abby declares.

“No, I’m not,” I scream. “I want my marriage to work. I don’t want to be a divorcee at the age of twenty-nine for gosh sakes.”

“Who the fuck cares if you’re a divorcee at twenty-nine or whatever age? Who gives the first shit what people think about you? Are you happy? Do you love him?” Abby pauses. “Do you truly love him with all your heart?”

When I don’t answer right away, she pushes, “Well, do you?”

Gulp. I don’t want to answer her question, but I force myself to. “Yes, I love him,” I lie.

Avery tilts her head and studies me. “Are you positive? I’m not an expert at love…”

Talk about an understatement. The woman fought her current partner, Niels, to the bitter end. Seriously, the bitter end. She nearly left him for a stupid job.

 “…but the way Bob is with you doesn’t spell love to me.”

“You don’t know him the way I do,” is the only thing I can come up with to say.

Abby blows out a long puff of air. “Are you serious right now? I’ve watched him treat you like dog shit for the past year.”

She stands and walks to me. I retreat but she grasps my hands and squeezes before I can get very far.

“One thing I’ve learned in life is when people show you who they are, you listen. Bob has shown you who he is. Is he the person you love, or are you in love with the idea of being in love?”

I glare at her. How dare she judge my relationship with Bob? She doesn’t know the first thing about us. And, if I have it my way, she never will. The secret of why I have to make my marriage work shall never be revealed by me.  

Avery claps her hands. “Okay. Arguing about Bob isn’t getting us anywhere. Let’s move on to the important issue here.”

I wrinkle my brow. “Important issue? What’s more important than Bob leaving me?”

She takes a deep breath before plowing forward and making my already shitty day even shittier.  “Um, do you have permission to live in Holland if Bob and you aren’t together?”  

Abby rolls her eyes. “Oh boy, lawyer Avery is in the house.”

My eyes widen, and my knees go weak. Fire and damnation! Avery’s right. I’m on a spousal visa. If I no longer have the spouse, I no longer have permission to stay in the country. I collapse on the floor.

“What am I going to do? I have a new job at ASH starting in a month.”

Avery wrinkles her nose at me. “What the heck is ASH? You’re not going to work in a coffee shop, are you?”

For heaven’s sake, you take a woman one time to experience marijuana at a coffee shop and you never hear the end of it.

“ASH is the American School of the Hague,” Abby answers like she knows everything. She kind of does. She’s a freaking genius after all.

“Will this school give you a visa to stay?” Avery asks.

I shake my head. “No, it’s a ‘local’ job. The position is specifically for people who already have permission to live and work in Holland.”

Avery pats my shoulder. “Don’t you worry. We’ll figure it out. After all, I do know a whole bunch of lawyers.” She winks.

I know she thinks she can solve all my problems because she’s a lawyer, but she’s wrong. It’s not like she can snap her fingers and suddenly a visa for me to stay and work in Holland will appear. She’s not a magician.

Shit. Bob leaving me is worse than I thought. And I already thought it was pretty horrible.

Must Read More

Can a fun-loving Dutchman convince an uptight attorney to break all her rules?

Book 2 in the Love in the Lowlands Series is here! Avery is not looking for love. Like she has time for love. Pff. The woman is the definition of workaholic. And she loves it! Niels, on the other hand, just wants to have fun. Preferably with the sexy uptight attorney who happens to be his boss. Ready to read all about how their love story pans out?

One-Click Now!

What’s that? You need more before you can make up your mind? I aim to please! Here’s the first chapter to whet your appetite: 

Chapter 1Den what?

“Avery, can I see you in my office?”

For most people, that question from their boss causes fear and trepidation. Not for me. I have been waiting for this call. I pump my arm and mouth a silent YES! before answering the question in my best professional voice.

“I’ll be right there, Nora.”  

As soon as I hang up the phone, I jump to my feet and do a little dance. Woo-hoo! This is it! Finally! I am getting the promotion I’ve been working my ass off for. When I’m promoted to Head Legal Counsel of North America, I’ll be the youngest head legal counsel this company has ever seen.

Age is but a number. I know I can do this job. I deserve this job. I live and breathe for Petroix Oil.   

Okay, Avery. Calm down. You haven’t got the job yet. I stop my dancing and pat my bun to make certain no wayward hairs have escaped before straightening my skirt. I make an attempt to smooth the wrinkles out of my suit jacket, but it’s a lost cause. This is what happens when you arrive at the office at o-dark-thirty and roll up your sleeves to get to work.  

I reach for the door with a smile on my face. Oops. I’ll freak out the rest of the legal department if I step foot outside my office smiling. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not some grumpity grump, but office hours are for working, not laughing and joking around. Laughing and joking around does not get you promoted to Head Legal Counsel at the age of thirty-six.

Head Legal Counsel! I raise my hands in the air and do another celebratory dance before clearing my throat and wiping the smile from my face. Avery Potts, professional and serious attorney, is back.  

“Avery,” my boss Nora greets me as I walk into her office.

Nora is the top legal dog at Petroix Oil. She’s the Director of Legal Affairs of Petroix Oil and my boss’s boss. She’s around sixty and always has a kind word for everyone. How she remains nice and calm while sitting on the board of a male dominated company is beyond me. She’s my hero.

“Please, have a seat.” She gestures to the conference table.

Once I’m seated, I keep my hands under the table to hide how much they’re trembling. This is happening. It’s really happening.

“I’m certain you’ve heard about Denis leaving us by now.”

Denis was the Head Legal Counsel of North America – the position directly under Director of Legal Affairs. He left Petroix for a position at a beverage company clearing the path for me to take his position.

I clear my throat to ensure I don’t sound giddy with excitement when I answer. “Yes.”

“This means we’re forced to do some shuffling around with the management positions,” Nora continues.

I hold my breath as I wait for her to continue. My current position is the Assistant Head Legal Counsel of North America. It’s only natural for me to be promoted to the head legal counsel position. I cross my fingers and hope with all my might.

Nora grins. “I’m happy to offer you the position of Head Legal Counsel of the EMEA market.”

My smile spreads from ear to ear. “Thank you. I’m excited for this challenge,” I say before my brain processes her words. “Wait. Did you say EMEA?”

“Yes, Luther, who is currently the EMEA director, will take over Denis’s position.”

This is not what I was hoping for. Not at all. But I maintain the smile on my face. “I’ve been working as Denis’s assistant for the past five years. I thought him leaving meant I could step into his position.”

Nora studies my face for a moment before frowning. “I’m sorry, Avery, but I don’t think you’re ready for the position yet.”

I bite my tongue to stop myself from arguing with her. Nora may project puppies and cuddles from the outside but on the inside, she’s an astute businesswoman with a world-class legal mind. If she doesn’t think I’m ready for the position yet no arguing will change her mind.

“I understand.” I stand, but Nora stops me before I can leave.

“Wait a minute. Don’t you want to hear more about the EMEA position? It’s a significant raise, and you’ll be relocating to Europe.”

Relocating to Europe? I guess it makes sense since EMEA does stand for Europe, Middle East, and Africa. But a relocation to Europe wasn’t on my radar. Hell. I’ve never even been to Europe. Who has time for vacations when you’re determined to become the youngest director in the history of the company?

“Where in Europe?” I ask.

“The Hague in the Netherlands.”

Of course. The Hague is where our European headquarters are located.

“You don’t think it would be better if I stayed here to help Luther adjust to his new position?” And hopefully steal the position out from under his hands sooner rather than later.

Nora drums her fingers together as she studies me. Can she see right through me? Does she know I’m planning to steal Luther’s position as soon as I can?

“No. I think the position in The Hague as Head Legal Counsel EMEA will be a good fit for you. It will give you a chance to grow into a management position,” she pauses, “since management is exactly where you want to be.”

I don’t deny it. I’m ambitious, and I’m not ashamed of it.

She cocks an eyebrow in challenge. “Unless you have some reason for not wanting to relocate?”

Way to be subtle, Nora. She won’t come right out and ask me about my personal situation, but her meaning is clear. Do I have a relationship that will interfere with my moving? Nora may project a grandmotherly vibe, but she’s not even a mother and she’s made it perfectly clear she thinks women are incapable of combining a relationship with a career.  

“No, there’s no reason. Let’s talk about the position in The Hague.”

When I walk out of her office thirty minutes later, my mind is already processing the million things I need to do to make this move happen. I have a month to transfer my current files to another lawyer and pack my house to relocate overseas. Of course, I can always change my mind and not accept the position, but I’m not an idiot. Head Legal Counsel EMEA may not be the position I was hoping for, but it’s still a promotion with a big, fat raise.

I whip out my phone and begin making a to-do list as I walk into my office.

“Surprise!”

At the shout, I shriek and fumble my phone. I look up to see my assistant, John, standing in my office next to my desk where there’s a balloon bouquet. The balloons say congrats on your new job. I frown. They’re not wrong. I do have a new job. Just not the one I wanted.

“Shit, John. You scared me.”

John isn’t actually my assistant. He’s the assistant for three lawyers in the office, but since my workload is heavier than the other two lawyers, he works almost exclusively for me.

“What’s wrong?”

At John’s question, I shut the door. “I didn’t get the job.”

“Sit. Explain.”

I collapse in the chair behind my desk, and he shoves a coffee into my hands. I take a sip. “Is this a pumpkin spice latte?”

The warm, fuzzy feeling of drinking my favorite beverage disappears when I realize I won’t be getting any pumpkin spice lattes in The Hague.  

“What’s going on?” John takes the seat in front of my desk and settles in for a gab.

If anyone else asked me the question, I’d send them on their way in no uncertain terms. Work hours are not the time to discuss personal situations. Trust me, I’ve tried to send John on his way. With zero success. Every time I shut him down, he puts my work at the bottom of his to-do pile. The sneaky man certainly knows how to get his way.

“They’re sending me away.”

John rolls his eyes. “Stop being melodramatic and tell me what happened in your meeting with Nora.”  

My eyes widen at his words. No one – and I do mean no one – has ever accused me of being melodramatic before. Geez, Avery. Get it together. You got offered a huge promotion. Be thankful.

“You’re looking at the new Head Legal Counsel for the EMEA market.”

“EMEA? As in Europe, Middle East, and Africa?”

“Yep.”

“But Luther is the Head Legal Counsel of the EMEA market.”

“No, Luther is the Head Legal Counsel of North America. I’m taking his position and he’s taking Denis’s place.”

John fast claps with a smile on his face from ear to ear. “Wow. This is exciting. You’re moving to Den Haag! Yeah! You have to take pictures of the criminal court for me.”

“Den what? What are you talking about?”

He purses his lips. “I forgot you don’t watch tv. There’s this great show. It’s a bunch of detectives. They form an international team and chase after—”

I raise my hand to stop him. He’ll go on and on about the show if I let him. It’s not like he can convince me to watch it. I don’t have time for television. Working twelve-hour days doesn’t exactly leave much time for silly things like tv or a love life for that matter.

“As much as I’d love to sit here and chit-chat.” John snorts. He knows the thing I like least in life is chit-chatting. “I have an appointment with a relocation consultant.”

John jumps to his feet. “I am beyond excited. I’m going to search for flights now. If you book early enough in advance, you can get some great deals. You’ll be settled by next summer. I’ll visit then,” he announces before leaving.

Settled by next summer? Summer is nearly a year away. How long will I be banished to Europe? Banished? Talk about being melodramatic. Enough, Avery. This is a promotion, not a demotion or banishment. It isn’t the job I was expecting, but I’ll still give it one-hundred and ten percent.

Must Read More!

Can Jasper convince the relationship averse Abby he’s worth the risk? ❤️❤️❤️

The last thing Abby expects when she lands in The Hague for a new job is to run into Jasper. She takes one look at the hot geek and decides it’s time for some sexy times. Sexy times of a non-permanent nature, of course, because Abby doesn’t do relationships. But when their one-night stand has unexpected consequences, Jasper is all in for giving a relationship a try. Can he convince Abby he’s worth the risk?

One-Click to read FREE now!

What’s that? You need more before you can make up your mind? I aim to please! Here’s the first chapter to whet your appetite: 

Chapter 1

Engineers like to solve problems. If there are no problems handily available, they will create them. ~ Scott Adams

I skip as I make my way to my new place of work. Whoa! Skip? Slow your roll, Abby. You don’t want everyone at your new job thinking you’re some kind of country bumpkin, do you? The answer is a definitive N – O!  

I have been hippity hoppity-ing my way all over the world waiting on the perfect position, and I think I have finally found it with Petroix Oil in The Hague in Holland. I know what you’re thinking – an oil company has the perfect position for an environmental engineer specializing in renewable energy? Yeah, right. But it sure is the perfect position.

Petroix has been working on developing renewable energy technology for a few years now and guess who they just hired to lead the team? Points to self. That’s right. Moi! Technically, it’s a temporary position and I’m not an employee – I’m a contractor – but it’s all the same dif. They’re going to love me and beg me to work here by the end of my contract. Trust me on this.

I burst into the building and march my way to the security desk. I don’t make it very far before I hear someone call my name.

“Abigail Diamond?”

Yep, my last name is diamond. When you can choose your own last name, obviously you pick the strongest, naturally occurring material on earth. And diamonds also happen to be way pretty and shiny.

I stop walking and turn to the woman who called my name. “It’s Abby,” I clarify.

Abigail sounds like some old lady, and I am definitely not an old lady. Unless you consider thirty-two old, which I do not. Plus, look at me. I am in no way to be confused with an elderly woman. My long dark hair has streaks of purple in it for gosh sakes. I’m also five-foot-eight. No little old lady to be found here.

To complete the picture, let me also say, I’m way skinny. My small frame serves to accent my perky breasts. Yes, I called my own breasts perky. A woman can be proud of her assets, you know. Especially when said woman has no rear-end to speak of. I also wear glasses and have dark brown eyes. Like, seriously dark. People ask me what my ethnicity is all the time because of my eyes. As if I have a clue who my parents are. Spoiler alert – I don’t.

“I’m Famke. Welcome to Petroix Oil,” the woman says as we shake hands.

I beam a smile her way. “I’m happy to be here.”

I’m not blowing smoke up her ass. I am seriously happy to be here. Fingers crossed my roaming days are behind me and I can settle down in this city along the North Sea.

“If you’ll follow me.”

I won’t bore you with the next hours of my life. I’m bored enough for the both of us. No need to share my torture with you. There are meetings with security for a badge, meetings with Human Resources to go over a shit ton of paperwork, and a final meeting with IT to get me set up with a laptop and phone. Yawn! Told you – boring!

 I am itching to get to work by the time Famke shows me to my office. “It’s probably not what you’re used to,” she says as I look around the room.

Not what I’m used to? What does she think? I’m some self-made millionaire who expects a corner office with a view. I am a self-made millionaire, but I’ve never had a corner office let alone a view. And it’s not like this office is in some dank basement with no windows and a weird smell reminiscent of the time I accidentally found myself in a dumpster.

Yes, it was as horrible as you could expect. No, I didn’t get some weird disease. And, no, it wasn’t entirely on purpose. And that’s all I’ve got to say about that.

“It’ll do,” I tell Famke. Oh, FYI, Famke is my new assistant. How cool is that? I’ve got my own assistant. I’ll have taken over this company before you know it.

“Do you want to meet your team?”

Told you I’m cool. I have my own team and everything. But it’s not cool if you get too jacked up about how cool you are, so I hold in my giddy laughter and grunt instead. “What I’d really like is some coffee.”

“I’ll get you some.”

I don’t let her leave. It may be cool to have my own assistant, but I’m not that boss. You know the one. The one who makes her assistant get her coffee, do her laundry, and take care of her cat. I don’t have a cat, but you get what I’m saying.

“Lead the way.”

I follow Famke as she walks through a series of tunnels to the breakroom where I nearly fall to my knees at the sight greeting me. As it is, I can’t help myself from hugging the machine.

“It’s a real coffee machine. An honest to goodness bean machine.”

Famke giggles. “Um, yes. The engineers threatened to go on strike if they didn’t get some decent coffee.”

Sounds about right. Engineers cannot work without coffee. Myself included.

“Okay. Show me how this baby works.”

I could probably figure it out for myself, but it would involve me taking the machine apart and putting it back together again, and I don’t think anyone in this department would be happy with me spending several hours fooling around with their coffee machine. But when no one’s around, I’m totally playing with it.

“It’s super easy,” Famke says and goes on to explain how the miracle machine works.

To my disappointment, it is super easy. It obviously needs more functionality. Coffee in hand I start walking back through the tunnels to my office with Famke.

Her phone rings. “I need to take this. Will you be okay walking back on your own?”

I roll my eyes. This girl has been on her own most of her life. Of course, I can make it by myself to my office. I might take a few wrong turns, but I need to do some reconnaissance on the place anyway.

I whistle as I walk through the hallways peeking into everyone’s offices as I go. Hardly anyone notices me. No, this building is full of good little engineers with their eyes glued to their computers. I’m liking this place more and more.

I spot a tall man walking toward me. Since I’m five-eight, I love me a tall man. This one has dark, curly hair, strong cheekbones, and a square jaw. Hubba hubba. He’s also wearing black nerd glasses and a t-shirt with the words What part don’t you understand? on it with a schematic. And I thought this day couldn’t get any better.

He doesn’t look up as I walk toward him. No, he’s too busy playing with his phone. I clear my throat. “Ahem.” But he doesn’t notice. I try again. “Ahem!” I sound like I’m coughing up a fur ball from that cat I don’t have, but he still doesn’t notice me.

In fact, he walks right into me, and my coffee spills all down my front. He doesn’t even look up after it happens. What. The. Actual. Hell? I watch him walk away for a second before I remember I have a voice and I know how to use it.

“Hey, asshat! In what world is it okay to run into a woman, make her spill her drink all over herself, and then walk away without even bothering to mumble an apology? Spoiler alert – in no world is it okay.”  

The man flinches and his phone clatters to the ground. I cringe, but the phone appears to be fine. It has one of those bumpers on it for clumsy kids. The man picks up his phone before spinning around and facing me. His eyes widen when he sees how my white t-shirt is now covered in black coffee.

“Het spijt me.”

Um, what? I know I took this job in Holland where Dutch is the native language, but the person who recruited me swore up and down everyone speaks English. I ended up promising to take a Dutch course, but it’s my first day. No one can expect me to understand the language yet. Come on, I’m a genius, not some savant language whisperer.

“I’m sorry,” the man says in English this time. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” I’ve got a few t-shirts in my work bag as this kind of thing tends to happen to me a lot. No, I’m not a klutz. I’m a driven woman who doesn’t always have time to pay attention to silly things like walls and doors.

“Do you work here?” I ask when he merely stands there staring at me.

“Um, yes. I’m Jasper.” He steps closer and holds out his hand.

I study him as we shake hands. I was not wrong about his good looks. He’s even better looking up close. Yowza! Me want to take a ride on the Jasper train.

“I’m Abby. It’s my first day.”

His eyes light with recognition. “You’re the new project manager of the clean energy department.”

I bow. “In person.”

“I’m in the mechanical engineering department. We work closely with your group. I’m sure I’ll see you around.” His phone pings, and he looks down. “Oops! I’m late to a meeting. Sorry about your t-shirt.”

He waves and walks off without a backward glance. Do I not rate a backward glance? Shit. Way to make a girl feel like she’s worthless. Nope. I’m not worthless. He must be married. Yep, there’s no other explanation possible. He’s married.

 

Can the silver fox convince the single mother to give him a chance? ❤️❤️❤️

FINALLY! Max is getting his love story. Are you ready for a silver fox to find love? Spoiler alert: Faith is not ready for Max to find love. No, she thinks he should stop butting his nose in her business. I wonder who’s going to win this battle of wills 

One-Click Now!

What’s that? You need more before you can make up your mind? I aim to please! Here’s the first chapter to whet your appetite: 

Chapter 1Parenting was much easier when I was hypothetically raising my non-existent son.

“I don’t want to go,” Ollie says in that whiny voice teenagers around the world have perfected.

I nearly snap at him. Oh boy, do I want to snap at him. But a good mother does not snap at her son, and I do try to be a good mother. Instead, I take a deep breath and find my inner calm before responding.

“And I didn’t want to give up all my friends and my job to move to Milwaukee, but here we are.” I guess I didn’t find my inner calm after all.

Ollie comes to a screeching halt. Or as much of a screeching halt as a lanky, hasn’t grown into his long limbs yet, fifteen-year-old can come to. “I’m sorry, Ma. I didn’t mean for you to lose everything and move us here. I was only trying to help.”

Sigh. Oliver Benjamin Bakker is always ‘only trying to help’. But how can I berate him for having the biggest heart in the world? I can’t, is how. I don’t understand how I and my jerk of an ex-husband, Silas, created the most perfect creature in the world, which is exactly what this boy with puppy dog brown eyes, shaggy brown hair, and freckles galore is, but we did.

“Stop it, Ma.”

“Stop what?” What am I doing wrong now?

He bumps my shoulder. “You know what. The whole mushy look you get on your face right before you try to hug me to death.”

“Me? Hug you to death?” I mock before I throw my arms around him and try to do that very thing he hates.

“Ma, we’re in public.” He may complain, but he does wrap his arms around me and squeezes me back. My boy may be fifteen, but he’s not afraid to show his mom a little love. This right here is why I work two jobs and run around playing taxi for him.

“Can we go inside now?”

“I thought you didn’t want to go,” I tease as I release him from my hug of death.

He scoffs. “Even seeing your boss and all his weirdo friends is better than getting mauled to death in a parking lot.”

To say my son is not a fan of my boss is a vast understatement. It’s a shame since my boss at McGraw’s Pub, where I’m currently working as a cleaner, is a sweetheart. Unfortunately, he calls all the women in his life darling, which my boy takes offense to. Ollie’s convinced my boss, aka Pops, is hitting on me all the time. As if I have time for a relationship.

“You ready?” I ask as I grasp the handle to the door of the pub.

The pub is closed to the public tonight so we can celebrate Suzie and Grayson’s surprise wedding. Suzie is the best friend of Pops’ daughter, Hailey. She and Grayson eloped this weekend to Las Vegas. Actually, Suzie didn’t know what Grayson had planned. The two weren’t engaged as far as I know, but he swept her off to Vegas for Labor Day weekend where he ambushed her with a completely planned wedding. Only a former soldier could possibly plan and execute a romantic elopement without crazy girl Suzie catching on.

“You’re doing it again,” Ollie whines.

“What?”

“Getting the mushy look on your face. Do you need another hug?” he asks despite his nose scrunching in distaste. I should probably hug him to tease him. Lucky for him, there’s no time as some of Suzie’s friends have arrived and are waiting to enter behind us.

“Hi, Faith!” Phoebe smiles in greeting. As usual, the woman looks like she just stepped off the runway in Paris. You would never guess she’s a private investigator at the PI firm Hailey and Suzie own together. I look at her wrap dress and high heels, and then down at the black slacks and blouse I’m wearing. I fiddle with the hem of my blouse. It’s one of my nicest, satin with a plunging neckline, but should I have worn a skirt?

“I love this shirt.” Phoebe fingers the sleeve of my blouse. “It looks great on your figure. I can’t wear a plunging neckline without worrying about giving people an unintended peep show.” She motions to her more than abundant breasts. Lucky her. I was apparently last in line when they were handing out curves.   

Her fiancé, Ryker, puts his arm around her shoulders and tugs her near. “You look beautiful, Princess,” he whispers before kissing her forehead. She practically melts into his side.

It’s not hard to imagine Ryker is a big, badass bounty hunter. He’s at least six and a half feet tall and is built like a Mack truck. His entire body telegraphs menace. If it weren’t for the soft looks he shares with Phoebe, I’d be more than a little apprehensive of the man.

Behind them, Ollie feigns gagging at their display of affection. I roll my eyes at him, but secretly I’m relieved he’s not obsessed with girls yet. I know the phase will come when girls and teenage hormones will overtake him. And I’m not looking forward to the day.

“Pops is going to love this top,” Phoebe says with a wink as she strolls past us into the pub.

I ignore her comment. Pops’ daughter and all her friends have been pushing Pops and me together since my first day of work cleaning at the pub. No thanks. One teenage boy at a time is enough for me. Never mind how my skin erupts in goosebumps every time his bright blue eyes gaze at me.

“Come on.” I motion for Ollie to proceed me into the pub. “Let’s get this over with.”

Although we’re one of the last to arrive, the pub isn’t overly crowded when we walk in. Suzie and Grayson are standing in the middle of the room next to a table of gifts. Two older couples are standing with them. This must be the parents. Judging by the screeching, someone’s mom is not happy they eloped.

At a table to the right, Suzie’s uncles are congregating. Actually, Lenny, Barney, Wally, and Sid aren’t her uncles. In fact, they’re no one’s uncles as far as I can figure. From what I’ve gathered, the four men are former Army buddies of Pops who helped raise Hailey after her mom took off.

Pops is in his usual position behind the bar. He looks up as we walk in and aims a smile our way. “Spitfire, you made it.”

I nearly turn into a puddle of goo when he calls me spitfire. I know it’s stupid. I’m a forty-five-year old woman, I shouldn’t be going all gooey over a man calling me spitfire – especially not my boss. But he calls every other woman in the world darling. Not me. For me, he has a special nickname. Having a man who looks like Pops direct his attention my way causes parts of my body I thought had died off from lack of attention to wake up.    

If you look silver fox up in the dictionary, you’ll find a picture of Pops. His hair may be silver, but it looks lush and soft. I can’t help but wonder what it would feel like if I ran my hands through it. His gray-tinged beard makes him look distinguished even in his standard uniform of jeans and a t-shirt with the logo for McGraw’s Pub on it. The t-shirt is stretched to the max over his shoulders and biceps. He may be in his mid-fifties, but he hasn’t let his tall physique go. My fingers itch to touch those hard muscles. But it’s his eyes that ensnare me. They’re bright blue and when he looks at you, you feel like you’re the only person in the world who exists for him.

I wave. “Hi!” Great. I sound like a total dork.

“Faith!” Suzie calls and draws my attention away from the silver fox.

The red-headed firecracker rushes to me and throws her arms around me. Or, I should say, she tries to throw her arms around me. I may not be tall at five-six, but Suzie barely passes the five-foot mark. I’m not sure why she’s clinging to me, though, it’s not like we’re close friends.

“Save me,” she whispers.

“In-law or parents?” I ask. I have some experience with judgmental in-laws. According to them, it’s all my fault Silas left me and my son. As if there’s ever an excuse to leave your child.

“Parents,” Suzie whispers. “My in-laws are the bomb.”

“Lucky you,” I mutter before clearing my throat. “I have a present for you.” And the dorkiness continues. Of course, I have a present for her. It’s her party.

“Grayson,” Suzie shouts and waves her brand-new husband over. “Come here.”

He grins at the two sets of parents before sauntering our way. He may only be an inch or two taller than me, but his broad physique screams soldier who can take care of business.

“Now I know where your crazy comes from,” he says as he takes Suzie’s hand in his.

She huffs. “Who are you calling crazy?”

Grayson opens his mouth, but I lift the gift bag and shove it in their faces before he can insert his foot. “Happy marriage!”

Suzie bounces on her toes and snatches the bag from me. “Thank you!”

“It’s no big deal.”

Despite working two jobs, I’m not exactly flush with cash. Things would be much easier if I could find a job as a paralegal. But law firms do background checks on their employees, and I can’t chance my name popping up on someone’s computer. Thus, a cleaning job and a filing job. Together I’m earning barely half of what my previous paralegal position paid.

Suzie removes the gift from the bag and her eyes widen. “These are way cool. Thank you!” She shoves the mugs at Grayson and hugs me again.

I pat her back. “Um, you’re welcome.”

When she releases me, it’s Grayson’s turn. “Awesome gift, Faith. Thanks.”

“It’s nothing.” I had two beer mugs engraved with the logo of Suzie’s microbrewery – Shorty’s Brewing Sensation. On top of owning the private investigator business with Hailey, Suzie brews beer. In fact, her beer is becoming quite popular with the local bars.

“Oh wow.” Hailey joins us and takes one of the mugs from Suzie’s hands. “These are cool. I wish I had thought of this.”

Hailey’s husband, Aiden, steps up behind her. “You want me to take our gift back?”

Hailey and Aiden look like they stepped off the pages of a high school yearbook. He’s the quintessential quarterback with his tall, fit body. While Hailey resembles the head cheerleader with her long, dancer body. Looks can be deceiving, though. He’s now a police detective, she’s a private investigator. From what I hear, they re-connected while Hailey was on a case and Aiden caught her snooping where she shouldn’t have been.   

Suzie slaps Aiden’s chest. “No take backs, mister.”

I try to tamp down my jealousy as I watch the friends interact. It’s not their fault I had to abandon my friends when Ollie and I fled to Milwaukee. The police advised I cut all contact with them after we settled in, and, except for my best friend Valerie who I keep in touch with via social media, I’ve been a good girl and listened to their advice. I can only hope the people Ollie pissed off aren’t sophisticated enough to hack into my social media accounts.

I excuse myself and head toward the restrooms. I need a moment to myself before I let my jealousy consume me. When I exit the restroom, Pops is waiting on me.

He steps toward me with a predatory gleam in his eyes, and I freeze. His hand lifts, and he tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. I inhale and his crispy, woodsy scent fills my lungs. I want to roll around in it.

“Thanks for coming, Spitfire.”

His breath on my skin causes my hormones to go wild. Calm down, hormones. I’m not a lovesick teenager. My hormones don’t care. My belly warms, and my breasts swell. Uh oh. Danger. I step back, but there’s nowhere to go. I’m cornered in the hallway with my back up against the wall – literally.

“Of course, we came, Pops,” I manage to say without sounding too breathy.

He growls. “You don’t call me Pops.”

I wrinkle my brow in confusion. “But everyone calls you Pops.” Oh shit. I slap my palm against my forehead when I realize what I’ve done wrong. He’s my boss. Of course, I shouldn’t act familiar with him. “I’m sorry, Mr. McGraw.”

His growl intensifies, and he takes a step closer until his chest is barely an inch from mine. My fingers itch to touch him, and I’m tempted to arch my back and rub my breasts against him. What is wrong with me? I’m not a hussy. Hell, since my ex Silas left, I’ve barely dated let alone touched a man. Why is this one causing me to act like someone I am most definitely not?  

“I am not Mr. McGraw or Pops to you. You call me Max.”

“M-m-max?” I hate how my voice stutters, but I can’t catch my breath when he’s this close.

“Or darling or sweetheart or baby. I’ll answer to any of those names as long as you’re the one doing the calling.”

My eyes widen. “I thought we agreed we weren’t going to date.” Because, despite what I told Ollie, Pops has asked me out. I’m not exactly lying to my son. Asking someone out is not the same thing as hitting on them. I am a master at treading a fine line between the truth and a lie.

It’s a non-issue anyway. I’m not stupid. I’m not dating my boss. Besides, I’m in Milwaukee temporarily.  

“Fair warning. I’m done waiting.”

“Ma!” Ollie shouts, and I tear my eyes away from Max’s blue gaze. “What are you doing?”

Lord save me from fifteen-year-old sons. “I’m fine. I’ll be there in a minute.”

He glares at Max who returns his glare with one of his own. While he’s distracted, I shove him and catch him enough off guard that I’m able to duck under his arm.

“I’m ready to go,” I tell Ollie, although we arrived less than an hour ago.

Before I can make my escape, Max yells, “See you tomorrow, Spitfire.” As if I need the reminder.  

Must Read More