Monday, January 9, 2017


Howdy! I'm back. I took a short hiatus to write a holiday story that was eating at me, called The House-Sitter's Christmas for the entire month of December. But I'm back on track with Tuesday Tales now. Reunited is a brand new story, simmering on the back burner for now. I'll be posting it, bit-by-bit here, on Tuesday Tales for a while. Thanks for stopping by.  


 Cassandra Newsome paced in front of the Starbucks on Fifty-third Street, waiting for a call from her business partner, and boyfriend, Ned Collins. He was meeting with the head of programming for Cable Entertainment Network, CEN, the hottest network on television.
She was shocked when he’d agreed to meet with Ned to discuss the idea for their reality television series, Reunited. The call came. Cassie’s hands shook as she answered.
“I have good news and bad news. Which do you want first?”
“Just tell me what happened,” she said, going inside and sitting at the counter. Cassie ordered a cup of coffee while she listened.
Ned cleared his throat, then did his best imitation of the hotshot executive: 
“We love your idea. Bringing together people who once loved each other and got separated for some reason is intriguing, I grant you. But the half dozen couples you’re ready to shoot are not in our target demographic.” 
“Target demographic?” she asked.
Ned went on: “In plain English, they’re too damn old. No one gives a rat’s ass if a couple of people in their forties or fifties get it on. In fact, some might consider it obscene.” 
“But these people’s stories’ll make viewers cry,” Cassie said.
“I don’t give a flying fuck if the audience cries. I only care that they buy our advertisers products. I can’t see hot new car advertising on your show. More like commercials for Viagra or nursing homes.”
“But…” she tried to interrupt.
“We get all those advertisers on our daytime shows. The game shows and judge shows. Hell, that’s where that audience is. In prime time, you’re talking the 18-34 demographic. And the last thing they want to watch are wrinkled people sucking face.”
“So if we get a couple that’s younger? Would that appeal to him?” She asked.
Ned continued: “If you can find a couple in that age bracket, then we have a deal. I love the premise. Real heart tugging crap. The network president’s gonna love it, and especially his wife. But get me that young, hot, sexy couple who can’t wait to hop into bed, and you’ll have a winner. Sorry. I’ve got another appointment at four. Call my secretary when you’ve got this glitch fixed and we’ll set up another meeting.”
“Really?,” she said, frowning.
 “Meet me at the bar in the St. Regis. I need a drink,” Ned said.
She pushed through the door and joined him. They headed toward a dark room. Sure enough, it was a bar. They were seated at a small table in the empty room. Three o’clock, a little early for the cocktail set.
“I’m not going back to Dickwad and Dickwad, Cassie,” Ned said, sipping his scotch on the rocks.
“I hate advertising, too, but if we can’t get a deal, we don’t have a choice.
“You heard Sanderson, if we can find a younger couple, we’re in,” Ned said.
“Yeah, but where’ll we find someone like that? And would they be willing to go on the show?”
Cassie raised her glass of wine. Ned startled her when he snapped his fingers.
“Wait! I’ve got it.”
He turned to stare into her eyes. She leaned back.

Find great Tuesday Tales stories HERE

Monday, November 7, 2016

TUESDAY TALES - "BAND" #lovestory #christmasstory

Welcome! Thank you for stopping by. Here's a bit from A King's Christmas, continuing from my last post, a couple of weeks ago. 
I hope you enjoy it. 


When they arrived home, Alyssa was in the kitchen making carrot soup. As she stirred the pot she sung a Christmas song from her childhood. She waved, but kept singing when her twin sister arrived.
“Don’t sing that, okay?” Lexie said.
“Why not?”
“That was mom’s song. I don’t want to hear it.”
“You still hate her, don’t you?” Alyssa picked up the salt and shook it over the large pot.
“I don’t hate her.  Well, no, that’s not true. I do kinda sorta hate her.”
“After all these years you should be past that now.”
“She has been gone forever, hasn’t she?”
“Yep. Would you taste the soup? I think it needs more salt.” Alyssa dipped a big spoon in the bubbling liquid.
“Yum. That’s delish. Perfect. No more salt,” Lexie said. “Wait ‘till Tuffer tastes that.”
“He’ll be asking you to make it every week,” Lyssa replied.
“And I’ll send him over to your house,” her sister replied.
Jo dropped her bundles on the kitchen table then stopping at the highchair where her infant son sat. “Has he been good?”
The baby shrieked with joy upon seeing his mother.
“Butch has been a doll. But he always is,” Lyssa said, beaming at the child.
“He must take after you, Jo,” Lexie said. “Dad doesn’t have such an even disposition.”
Jo pulled out three jars of baby food from the cabinet. She also took down the box of Cheerios. After dumped a small handful on his tray, she heated up his food.
“I think your father has a very even disposition,” Jo remarked.
Both girls burst out laughing. “Haven’t you been watching him on the field?” Lexie asked.
“Oh my God, every curse word he knows,” Lyssa said, shaking her head. “I hope Tuffer’s parents won’t be offended.”
“They’re regular people. They won’t care,” Lexie added.
“Lexie, are you doing the stuffing? Where’s the schedule?” Jo asked.
Alexia strolled over to the fridge and glanced at a paper tacked up with a magnet.
“Hmm. Yep. My name is next to the stuffing. I’d better get started.”
“We need to put that bird in the oven in,” Jo checked her watch. “Twenty minutes. Can you do it?” Jo stirred the baby’s cereal and meat together. Butch grabbed Cheerios in his little fist and shoved them into his mouth.
“I’m on it. Twenty minutes? Piece of cake,” Lexie said.
Jo smiled as she sat down and dipped a tiny spoon into the mush. Her son’s eyes lit up. He grinned and kicked his feet as he mother scooped up a bit of his meal.
“Butch is a good eater,” Lyssa observed.
“Just like his dad,” Jo said, twisting the wedding band on her finger. 

“Next year we might have to get a bigger turkey,” Lexie chuckled, opening the fridge.

Thanks for coming. Now on to the other Tuesday Tales authors. Find them HERE.  Check out my website HERE 


Monday, October 17, 2016


Welcome! Maggie's Story has to go on the shelf before I give away everything. But it will be out early next year as a novella. Now we're going to take a peek into my WIP holiday book, A Kings' Christmas. 
This scene opens with Lexie Sebastian shopping in town for Thanksgiving dinner. First stop, the bakery. 


   Lexie held the door for her stepmother, Jo. 
   "How about some bread?"
   The younger woman wrinkled her nose. 
   "But Lyssa makes that great garlic toast. For during the game or before dinner?"
   "If you want it," she said, wandering over to the window. 
   Jo touched her stepdaughter's shoulder. "Are you okay?"
   "I guess."
   "That doesn't sound very positive. What's wrong?"
   "Tuffer and his parents are coming tomorrow."
   "I'm glad they could make it. I want to meet them."
   "They're real nice. Even dad won't be able to criticize them."
   "Then what's the problem?" Jo eyed the fresh bread section. 
   "It's just's kinda silly."
   "What?" Jo took a number and got on line.
   "I was hoping Tuffer and I could have some time alone. I think there's something he wants to ask me." She stared at her hands. 
   Jo's head snapped up. She narrowed her eyes. 
   "Do you mean what I think you mean?"
   "How long were you dating dad before he proposed?"
   "Long enough. Why?"
   "No reason. Tuffer and I have been dating for almost a year. Is that long enough?"
   "It depends. Your father and I were older. He'd been married. We knew more."
   "Did you feel more? Because I can't imagine you could’ve loved dad more than I love Tuffer."
   "You do?" Her eyebrows shot up.   
   "There'll be too many people around. He has to take care of his parents."
   "Are the invalids?"
   "No. But he'll want to. Not want to leave them alone."
   "You'll still love him as much after the holiday."
   "Don't tell dad, okay?" 
   "Okay. Probably give him a heart attack, anyway. Which bread do you want?"
   "The boule."
   "We'll take two boules," Jo said to the person behind the counter. On the way out, she slipped a wedding cake brochure in her pocket.   

Tuesday, May 31, 2016


Here's the scenario:

 The ground was soft and slippery from the rain three days earlier. He hated playing in muddy conditions, but it was part of the game. He won the toss and elected to kick off now and receive in the second half. He paced and watched from the area around the bench.
They were playing the Delaware Demons, and he wanted to see if he could learn anything from their quarterback, Mark Davis. Davis was good. He had won the Super Bowl in his rookie year.
The Kings defense was in top form, and Griff was on the field before long. He called the first play. Buddy got free, and Griff threw a bullet right to his favorite receiver, who caught it and took it for a fifteen yard gain and a first down.
The next play, the Kings’ offensive line screwed up. Griff ran a few yards then had to slide to avoid a tackle. A fumble recovered by the Demons meant a turnover, and the Kings lost the ball. Davis came back with a long pass that enabled them to score.
The Kings bounced back with impressive blocking from the offensive line. Griff completed a pass to Homer Calloway, who ran it in for a touchdown. The score seesawed back and forth. It was tied then the Demons inched ahead with a field goal. Griff and the Kings leapfrogged over that score with a touchdown.
It was close at half time. Coach Bass tried to buck up the men in the locker room, as the Kings were behind by three. When they got back on the field, they redoubled their efforts and squeaked ahead. The defense fought to hold the Demons back, but they eked out a field goal to tie the game.

A rough tackle sent Homer to the showers. The pressure was on Griff. One more field goal for the Demons meant that only a touchdown could win the game. Griff nodded. It was a signal that indicated the quarterback was about to fake to another receiver and shoot the pass out to Buddy.

It's GRIFF MONTGOMERY, QUARTERBACK. But it could be real life football. This book has such realistic scenes you'll think you're reading about a current NFL team, not a fictional one. Football + romance = a great reading experience!

To find out how this scene ends, you'll have to buy the book. Now available in ebook, paperback, and audio, too!)

Two people, two tragedies, two deep, devastating secrets….  Griff Montgomery is the headline-making, heart-breaking star quarterback of the Kings – a  6’4”, 33 year old womanizer. Lauren Farraday is a beautiful young interior designer, bitterly scarred by divorce, whose life is falling apart. Though they violently oppose one another in court over her beloved pug (she thinks he’s arrogant and  conceited, and he thinks she’s a bitch on wheels), something happens....

Monday, May 23, 2016

Tuesday Tales - Purple - #NFL, #football #romance

Welcome! The word prompt this week is "purple". I continue with Trunk and Carla's story from "Overtime" -- last book in the First & Ten Series. 


“You know what they said, Ma?” Carla repeated the story her siblings told. Then she laughed. “What? What does he owe?” There was a moment of silence as Carla listened to her mother. “How much? Figures.”
She took off her purple apron and hung it on the hook on the wall, glanced up at Trunk and threw him a smile.
“Thanks, Ma. I knew you’d understand. Have a great time in Florida. Did you get my letter? Yeah. As Pop would say, don’t spend it all in one place.”
Carla hung up the phone. She leaned back and rested her feet on another stool.
“So? Don’t keep me hangin’ here.”
“Ma’s fine. In fact, she’s going on vacation, driving to Florida with my dad. They’ll be gone for two weeks. With most of the kids out of the house, they saved a little money.”
“On vacation? Doesn’t sound like she’s dying.”
Carla took his hand. “She’s fine. I sent her fifty bucks. She’s keeping that to get a mani-pedi or her hair done. I send her a little money from time to time. Whenever I can spare it.”
“You never told me that.”
She shrugged. “It never came up.”
“So what’s your brother’s problem?”
“He lost some money gambling and his wife’s gonna kill him. Gina wants new clothes. Thought they’d take a ride over here and shake me down.”
Trunk laughed as he shook his head. “Relatives.”
“Yeah.  Ma knows about our wedding. She was sad for a bit, but said she understood.”
“You had a rough time growing up?”
“It wasn’t exactly a piece of cake. Ma’s always felt bad so much landed on me. So she cuts me a lot more slack than she does the others.”
“Can I give you some money to send to her?”
“It’s not necessary.”
“Maybe we could bring them here for Christmas or something?”
“They’d like that.” She grinned. “Once I told Ma what kind of man I was marrying, she got that I didn’t want to wait. Some other girl might take you away.”
Trunk lifted his wife into his lap. “No other woman in the world could take me away. You’re the best, baby.”

“Goes double for you, big guy.” 

Thanks for coming

Monday, May 9, 2016


“Al Mahoney here, are you two from the Herald?”
“Nope. I’m Mario Ricci and this is Gina. We’re Carla’s brother and sister,” he said, shaking Trunk’s hand.
“Relatives? Great! Welcome. Sit down. Can I get you something to drink?”
Carla shot him a hostile glance and shook her head. “They’re not staying.”
“How inhospitable of you, dear sister,” Mario sneered.  “I’ll have a beer. What have you got on tap?” He took the seat next to Gina.
“I’ll have a Margarita,” Gina said. “And don’t be stingy with the tequila.”
Carla put her hand on Trunk’s forearm. “I said they’re not staying.” She shot a warning glance at her husband and then turned hostile eyes on her brother. “What do you want?”
“Why do you think we want something?”
“Because that’s the only time you come around.”
“Don’t be bitter.”
“Really? You’ve got some nerve, Mario.”
“Oh, you mean that little incident with the car?”
“Leaving me stranded in the middle of nowhere, by myself at midnight with a broken down car? Yeah, that, for starters.”
“So you have a list of grievances?”
“Enough to fill a roll of toilet paper.”
Trunk’s eyebrows shot up.
“What the fuck?” Gina said, swiveling to face her sister. “What’s your problem? You got out. Got your own business. Looks like you’re doing great.”
“I am. But it wasn’t easy. And when I needed help? Where were you? Nowhere to be found. You didn’t give a shit about me, why should I care about you?”
“Because we’re family.”
Carla opened a bottle of water. “Family? Who changed your diapers? I did. Who walked you to school? I did. Who picked you up? I did. Who helped with your homework, chased the bullies away, braided your hair and taught you how to dance? Huh? Huh? I did. And when I needed five hundred bucks to make it through the winter? Where were you? Off on some fucking vacation in Puerto Rico.”  She hugged herself.
“I didn’t have any money, Carla,” Gina said, her tone whiny.
“Really? Enough to buy new clothes and take a big trip.”
Gina picked at a cuticle.
“Yeah. That’s what I thought. It got pretty cold in here when I couldn’t afford oil for heat.”
“You have a fireplace,” Mario put in.
“Oh, yeah? Thanks a lot. Firewood costs money, too. And it doesn’t heat this place. One measly, stinkin’ little fireplace for this whole joint and the apartment upstairs? Fuck that.”
“Mama wouldn’t like those words.”
“Get out.” Carla turned her back on them.

Thank you for coming. 

Monday, May 2, 2016


This week, we go back to Trunk Mahoney and Carla from the First & Ten series. This is from the book I'm writing now, "Overtime", the last book in the series that will tie up all the stories of the men playing for the Connecticut Kings. 
Thank you for coming. Scroll down for the link to return to Tuesday Tales. 


From "Overtime":
Carla pulled the hot pasta dish from the oven. She stuck her head outside and hollered.
“Al! Dinner! Come and get it!”
She set the table, putting the main course on a dish towel. She checked her watch again. It wasn’t like him to be late for a meal. She smiled as she recalled the many compliments he lavished on her cooking. She wiped her hands on her apron and looked out back. When she glanced at the barn, she was surprised to find the door closed. Smoke was seeping out from under, and through cracks where the old wooden windows no longer met the frames.
Panic seized her.
“Al!” She cried, taking off at a gallop for the barn.
Her pulse thudded in her ears, her breathing was rapid as her body went into crisis mode. Carla shook her head. Can’t panic now! She pulled on the door, but it was stuck. She took a deep breath and marshaled all her strength, yanking on the old piece of wood. It flew open knocking her to the ground. She jumped to her feet, only to be hit in the face by a tornado of black smoke. She started choking immediately. Turning away, she cleared her lungs. She heard someone coughing.
“Al? Al?”
“Here,” came a weak voice.
“I’m coming.”
With one hand, she felt in her pockets for her phone, with the other she fanned smoke away, clearing a path as she searched for her husband.
Her fingers dialed 911.
“Help! The barn is burning and Al’s trapped inside!.”
She gave the address. “Hurry, my husband’s in here, but
I can’t find him.”

Just as she dropped her phone into the apron pocket, she tripped over Trunk, and fell, bruising her ribs, forcing the air out of her lungs.