Monday, December 18, 2017


The song this month is called Chances by Five for Fighting. Here's the video:

And the lyrics for the song. Now here's what I wrote. It's not very long, but I think it fits:

She was sure they were finished. Truly, what man would stick around after the fiasco that was “Christmas with the family?” In fact, that phrase should be surrounded by red warning lights. Hell, she should be surrounded by the red warning lights. Why did she think spending time with her family was a good idea? She knew how they were. Rude. Overbearing. Entitled. And that was just her mother.

Cara glanced over at Spencer and almost sighed aloud. He hadn’t said much since they’d climbed into the car to head back to her house. He was probably trying to figure out if he could just slow down and shove her out or if he’d have to stop. And she really didn’t blame him. Between her mother acting as though she smelled something horrible to her father talking endlessly about golfing with some politician or another nothing had gone right. Add in her brother wanting to know when Spencer had gotten out of prison and the whole evening was a total cluster.

This wasn’t the way she imagined their first Christmas. She thought they’d snuggle up by the fire, open some gifts, and have hot monkey sex under the tree. She didn’t imagine any of that was going to happen now.

He turned his truck into the driveway and turned off the engine. The snow that had begun falling as they’d left her parents was coming down in earnest now. The sidewalk would have to be cleared in the morning, if it kept up.

Spencer glanced at her. “Wait there.”

She watched him jog around the front of the vehicle and come around her side to the open the door. Instead of letting her step out, he swept her up in his arms and carried her up the walk to the front porch. This was why she loved the man so much. He was an amazing, warm, loving human being.

“I didn’t want you to get snow in your fancy shoes.”

His low, gruff voice made heat pool low in her body. Stop, she told herself, this was certainly not the time to get all worked up. Her family had insulted him, so she doubted he was in the mood for sex.

They stepped into the house and took their shoes off at the door. Something else they had in common. No matter the weather, the shoes came off the instant they stepped inside. It was all about not letting anything that happened outside their home inside. This time, though, if they’d tossed the shoes out in the yard it wouldn’t matter.

Spencer moved into the living room and began to build a fire in the fireplace as Cara turned on the tree. The ornaments glittered in the lights of the tree and fire and she could feel tears sting her eyes.

Turning, she found he had pulled off the sweater she’d given him and sat in a black t-shirt watching her. Tattoos decorated his strong arms, the arms she wanted around her. Always.

“I’m so sorry.”

“For what?” he asked, motioning for her to sit next to him on the couch.

“My horrible family. We never should have gone. I had so hoped that, somehow, they’d be different. I have no idea what I was thinking.”

He nodded. “And why are you apologizing? You didn’t have anything to do with how they acted. That’s all on them.”

“Yeah, but they’re my family—”

“Baby, we can’t choose what family we’re born into. What we can choose is the family we make.”

Cara put her arms around him as he pulled her into his lap. “So, you’re not leaving me?”

“Fuck no,” he murmured against her neck, then bit her lightly. “In fact, I want to change up our relationship.”

“Change up?”

He leaned back to dig in his pocket, until he came up with a small box. Using his thumb nail, he popped it open to reveal a diamond ring.

“I want you to marry me.”

Cara’s mouth fell open. This was the man who’d said he never wanted to get married. Ever.

“I love you. Say something.” He nipped her ear with his teeth.

“Yes, yes, of course I’ll marry you. I love you.”

“Now, we’ll make our own family.”

Go and see my amazing friends Bronwyn, Jessica, Kris, and Siobhan. You will not be disappointed.

Wednesday, December 13, 2017


As always, you know I'm never going to be silent. Anyway, the pics represent most of the decorations. Of course, my sister has another tree in her room and I don't think I have any pics of that. So, yeah, 3 trees. We also have 7 wreaths. Yeah, I know. It's a sickness and we accept that. 

I fibbed, this is Sis's tree.

I could keep going and going, but I think you get the picture. Our house is DECORATED! So, now I've stunned you with the magnificence, go and check out Bronwyn, Jessica, and Paige's decorations.

Wednesday, December 6, 2017


Wow! Can you believe it's the last Top 10 of the year? Yeah, me neither and this one is a good one too. We're listing the Top 10 gifts for writers. As always, they are in no particular order. And, before I start, let me share Wednesday Male Hotness, since I haven't done it in a while.

Now onto the list

1. Concentration. Yeah, I know it's not giftable, but this is something I really need. The ability to just sit down and concentrate on the book blocking everything else out.

2. The next impossible gift is once I'm all concentrated on the book, it would just flow out of me. No hesitations. No starting and stopping. Just sit and pour out 5000 words no problem.

3. Money. I wish I had money so that I could just concentrate on writing. Not that I don't love my day job, I do, but I just wish I could stay home and write. Which leads me to the next gift:

4. Travel. I want to go places to experience them first hand so I can write about them. For instance, Scotland. I would love, love, to go there and set a book there writing it from a prospective of knowledge.

5. I would love my own writing space. Okay, I'd love my own library that could double as a writing space. I don't necessarily need a desk, just someplace comfy I can sit with my laptop.

6. A writer's retreat. Someplace I could go and invite my writer pals and we could relax and talk and write. And we could do this as long as we'd like, as often as we'd like.

7. The ability to edit my own work. I do an okay job, since I'm not in love with every single word I write. I don't imagine that the first draft is Pulitzer Prize material so I don't find it difficult to cut parts out or move sections or even delete the whole beginning of a book to rewrite it. I just wish I had the ability to look at the piece with the eye of someone who'd never seen it and then spot all the problems.

8. Time management abilities. Because right now it's almost 10 and I haven't worked at all on my book, but instead have written this blog post, and looked up pictures, and listened to a book, and cuddled my kitten. You get the idea.

I bet you thought I was going to add a picture of a kitten. Ha! You were wrong.

9. A personal assistant. I'd think a PA would keep me on task, remind me of things I need to do, and supply me with coffee or tea. At least, that's what I hope a PA would do.

And there he is, my fabulous PA. Yep, working hard and keeping me on task.

10. More time. Because it wouldn't be almost 10:30 and I'd have more than this blog post written. 

If anyone is able to gift me with just one of my top 10, I would love you forever. I'd even write an amazing kick ass book with you as the hero or heroine. See, that's love.

Now go and see what Jessica, Bronwyn, Kris, and Paige want as presents.