Monday, May 22, 2017


Welcome! We're back to regular Tuesday Tales this week. My story, "Break My Heart" continues. Scroll down to return to the excellent writers of Tuesday Tales. Thanks for stopping by.


Rick thought about his life. He leaned on his knees and petted his companion as he wondered what his next steps would be. First things first, as his mother would say. He needed to turn that ramshackle farm house into a habitable place. Repairs, painting, furniture, he shuddered to think about the size of the job.
But then, again, did he have anything else to do with his time? Nope. Perhaps fixing up the house was a godsend, allowing him to avoid facing empty years ahead. Snapping the leash off the harness, he let Ollie loose. The pooch stayed by his side as the two ventured forth, deeper into the brush.
Rick snapped a few photos of graceful trees and beautiful nature designs, then checked his watch. It was one thirty. They had enough time to get home, eat lunch and be ready for the appointment with Jess.   
As they cleared the forest and hit the field, a car pulled up to the side of the road. It was Doctor Dani.
“How’s he doing?” She asked.
Rick picked up his dog and held him to the window.
She sniffed. “He’s had a bath. Much improved.”
“And he’s eating more. I think he’s getting over missing his family.”
She nodded. “That’s good.”
“What are you doing over here?”
“Back from the post office. I like to take different roads. Get to know Pine Grove a bit.”
“You’re not from here?” He asked.
“Nope. Rye in Westchester county.”
He nodded. “Nice place. Why’d you’ come here?”
“For the job. Cool barn. Is it yours?”
“Everything you can see from here, just about, is mine.”
“You might fix that barn up. Ever have a horse?”
He laughed. “No. Is that a staple of country life?”
“If you put up a fence, you could keep a horse.”
“Wouldn’t that be pretty expensive?” He asked.
“Not for a rich ex-model like you,” she shot back with a grin.
Stunned she knew his identity, he had no rejoinder.
“Got to be going. Nice chatting. Good job with the dog.” She put the car in gear.
“By the way,” he said, finding his tongue, “his name’s Oliver now.”
“Oliver?” she said, raising her eyebrows, directing her glance at the pug. “Suits him. Good choice.”
On cue, Ollie barked, almost slipping from Rick’s grasp. Dani hit the gas pedal and the car lurched forward, speeding down the lonesome road, kicking up dust in its wake. Rick smiled. 



Friday, May 19, 2017


Welcome to the first Tuesday Tales Bookstore! This is our first bookstore event. All the Tuesday Tales authors will be putting books for sale today. I will showcase my free book, Griff Montgomery, Quarterback, and one that was partially written on Tuesday Tales. Do you remember Unpredictable Love

The book stars Jory Walker, a young woman who's been shouldering adult responsibility for herself and her sister since she was seventeen. Fortunately, an aunt took the girls in. 

The women were close, but Amber exasperated her big sister with her flighty behavior. Even though her sister dwarfed her in the looks department, Jory loved Amber. She kept a protective eye on her. Who knew that the woman in the family in danger of getting her heart broken was Jory? 


Here are a few excerpts:

Jory Walker plucked three letters from the mailbox in front of the house. Two bills and one envelope addressed to her that looked like it had been through a war. It had, according to what was scratched in the upper corner.

SSGT. T. Stevens

Anger bubbled up inside her. She made a beeline for the house, only to collide with her sister.
“Amber! What the hell?” She waved the envelope in the young woman’s face.
“I just sent him one letter.”
“This is the fourth you’ve gotten from him. When are you going to write back?”
“It was a mistake…”
“You can say that again. Especially the part where you signed my name!”
“Laura was so convincing. I thought she meant one time. Only one letter.”
“She asked people to sign up to write to guys in the military. Not to write only one letter and include a lewd photo.”
“It wasn’t lewd, whatever that means. Just me in a bikini. I’m not good at writing. Much better at pictures.” Her beautiful, blonde sister, with a Miss America figure, grinned.
“And the reason you signed my name?”
“I always liked yours better. Besides, if he wanted another letter, I knew you’d write it for me. So, it might as well have your name on it.”
“Don’t give me that bullshit smile. I’m on to you. And the answer is ‘no.’” Jory shoved the envelope from T. Stevens into Amber’s hand.
“Please? Pleeeaassseee, Jory. You’re the writer. Not me.”
“That’s right. You’re the pretty sister, and I’m the smart one.”
Amber nodded. “I don’t mean it like that. You’re so much better than me.”
“Than I.”


Jory hadn’t set out to craft boring correspondence to SSGT Stevens, but as she wrote, she realized how uninteresting and predictable her life was. She sighed when Nan entered the house Saturday morning with the mail.
“Another one for you, Jory. This young man likes to write.”
“I thought he’d be discouraged by how insipid and stupid my letters are. Guess not.”
“Guess not.” Nan smiled as she hiked up the stairs.
Jory put the envelope in her pocket, saving it for bedtime.
She’d taken to retiring early so she could savor Trent’s words in solitude. She liked to read through fast to get the facts then reread them two or three times. When she went back over them, she’d dig out the hidden loneliness lurking between the lines. Although he never mentioned fear, upon second and third readings her observant eyes picked up the hints of anxiety in his many references to home.


With patience, she’d fitted them together to form the image of a man she could almost touch.
Sometimes, she’d reread three or four before turning out the light. She’d tacked his picture on the wall next to her bed. He was the last thing she saw before falling asleep and the first thing in the morning. Jory had planned to wind down the correspondence, but every day she eagerly awaited mail delivery, and a new peek into the mystery man who had inched his way into her heart.

Admitting she had feelings for SSGT Trent Stevens wouldn’t happen. Jory wasn’t some foolish schoolgirl with a crush on a handsome Marine. She was a grown woman, who had been shouldering the responsibilities of an adult since she was seventeen. Her head wouldn’t be turned by a few letters and some fancy words. She was above that. Or so she thought.

Here's the blurb:

Uh oh. Amber signed her sister’s name on a pen pal letter to a Marine. As usual, Jory Walker was stuck fixing her sister’s little white lie.  

When letters poured in from SSGT Trent Stevens in Afghanistan, Jory had no choice but to correspond. Sure he’d be drooling over Amber’s bikini photo, thinking it was Jory. Since they’d never meet, what harm could it do if she sent him a few letters?

Would her charade boomerang replacing happiness with pain? What started off as an innocent ruse, morphed into a monstrous web of deceit. Maybe unpredictable love was destined to break her heart. 


You can get Unpredictable Love in ebook and paperback here:


FREE BOOK! Griff Montgomery, Quarterback 

He wants to find a wife. She doesn’t want to marry again –ever. Not exactly a match made in heaven. Or are they? Ten years ago, Griff Montgomery, star quarterback of the Kings and womanizer, became a stand-in father for his widowed sister’s kids. His happy family life collapsed when she and her new husband moved to California. Griff wants his own family. But where does a “player” go to find his ideal mate?

Having sworn off marriage forever, Lauren Farraday barely kept her life together after her divorce. With her career shaky and depression closing in, the last thing she needed was a courtroom battle with a sexy athlete.

Forced, by a judge, into an uneasy truce, the pair denied their growing chemistry. Wary of Griff’s reputation with women, and hiding a secret, Lauren keeps him at arm’s length. Determined, Griff marches toward his goal. Can the quarterback handle the truth or will he walk away, like he always has in the past?

Get the book FREE in ebook, or buy it in audio or paperback here: 



     AUDIBLE (Audio book)


Monday, May 15, 2017


Welcome! We have another episode of "Break My Heart". Scroll down to return to Tuesday Tales. Thanks for coming.


Upon entering the kitchen, he opened the fridge. Time for lunch.
After he fixed food, he rummaged around the boxes and tins until he found the doggie shampoo in a brown paper bag filled with cleaning supplies. How appropriate!
After searching all sides of the house, he came upon a decrepit hose, mended in two places with duct tape. It had been coiled and dumped under the porch.
He pulled it out, gently, wiping the cobwebs and dust from his hands on his pants. He screwed it on a rusty spigot in the back and worked the handle hard until it moved.  Brown water spurted out in fits and starts.
“The water’s rusty, we’ll wait,” he said. The dog stretched out next to his master. Rick directed the flow away from the pug, not wishing to scare him. He let the dirty water run. There was no nozzle. He grinned, remembering from his youth, how to make water rocket out of a nozzle-less hose.
Gorgeous from the moment he was born, Rick Winslow had had a fairly normal childhood in Pine Grove until he was ten, when his modeling career began. Chief mischief maker on his block, little Rick Winslow always had a frog in his pocket and a scheme up his sleeve.
He picked up the hose and squirted the dog. The critter jumped, then tried to bite the stream. Rick aimed again and the spunky little guy took off, racing around in circles at full speed. Rick circled and circled, trying to wet the dog, but failing. Too dizzy to stand, he fell, laughing, onto the wet grass. Oliver approached cautiously, then licked Rick’s face. He grabbed the dog, hugging him to his chest and planting a kiss on his head.
“Dani’s right. You stink, buddy. Let’s get you clean.”

Monday, May 8, 2017


Welcome! This week the word prompt is "mother", so appropriate! I am continuing with "Break My Heart" this week. Scroll down to return to Tuesday Tales. Thank you for stopping by! 


Dani Henderson waited until Rick cleared the waiting room before she sauntered out. She leaned against the front desk. The receptionist turned to her.
“What planet is that man from?”
“Who?” Dani asked.
“Why?” Dani shifted her weight.
“He asked me where the nearest groomer was.” Nancy burst into laughter.
“Yes. He must be from Mars. Can you imagine? A groomer in Pine Grove?”
“Nancy, you didn’t think he was repulsive, did you?”
“Winslow? Nope. Kinda cute, if you ask me. The scars make him look interesting.”
“You didn’t recognize him?”
“Should I?”
“He’s Breaker Winslow, the model?”
“The model?”
Dani nodded.
“Well shear my sheep! Never would have guessed.”
“Is that because of his face?”
“Nope. I have no idea who that is. Never seen Breaker Winslow before. Gotta like his name, though,” Nancy replied.
“He’s on a million book covers. Ads in magazines? You’ve never seen him?”
“Oh, wait. Maybe, that one time we went to Florida to see Frank’s folks. I looked at a couple of books in the airport. There was one very handsome guy on a western book. Coulda been him.”
“He’s hot.”
Nancy nodded.
“The accident didn’t destroy his looks,” Dani said.
“Bet he’s not getting many calls from book publishers, though.”
“Probably not. I like the way he looks. Kind of gives him character, you know? He’s not just another pretty face.”
“That he isn’t. I agree. He’s still pretty good lookin’. Especially around these parts. Not much to look at here, in the way of men.”
“There are a few.”
“Either married or too young.”
“Nancy! What would Frank say?”
“He’d just laugh,”
“He’d better be careful.”
“Franks’ not worried. He knows I’m the loyal type.”
“I know,” Dani said, patting her friend’s arm. “And I truly appreciate that.”
“I bet you do. Everyone quitting because they didn’t want to work for a woman. Sure left you short-handed.”
“Sure did. Who’s next?”
“We got a cat to be spayed due in about ten minutes.”
“Good. Time for a cup of tea.” Dani headed to the back where the food and beverage supplies were kept.
“Say, you’re not sweet on that guy, are you, Doctor Dani?”
“Me? On Breaker Winslow? Nope. He’s a pretty angry guy.”
“Got good reason, I’d say,” Nancy said, as she picked up her pen and wrote notes on Scruffy’s chart.
“Agreed.” Dani put a mug of water and a tea bag in the microwave.
He sure does have reason to be mad. But his face? It’s not that bad. And if he turned on a little charm, well he’d be downright dangerous.
She returned to the front desk, sipping her brew.
“Course, he might do until someone better comes along,” Nancy said, carrying on the conversation as if Dani hadn’t left the room.
“Doubt I have time for any man. There’s plenty here to keep me busy.”
“Nights here can be long and lonely.”
“Great for sleeping. I’m gonna need rest to get up at daybreak to take care of livestock, before the dogs and cats arrive.”
“Keep tellin’ yourself that. Go ahead. But you ain’t foolin’ me. That man’s looking for something and it seems to me he’s found it right here,” Nancy said in a motherly tone.  
“You’re mistaken, Nancy. We rescue dogs and cats here, not men.” Dani held her cup with both hands.
“I’d say it depends on the man. Some of them need rescuing, too.”
“Maybe, but that’s not my problem.”



Monday, May 1, 2017


Welcome! This week we're back at the vet's office, where Breaker, oh, excuse me, Rick Winslow is having an argument with the doctor. We continue with Break My Heart. The word prompt is "cry". Scroll down for the link to return to Tuesday Tales. Thanks for stopping by. 


Panic captured his breath. He couldn’t lose this little critter. Pain rocketed through him. As quickly as it came, it morphed into anger. He snatched the dog back.
“You’ve got some fucking nerve! He’s mine. I found him. I’m keeping him. We’ll find another vet.”  He headed for the door.
“Don’t talk to me like that. Get out!” She stood rigid, hands on hip.
He turned.
“We come to you for help and you try to take the dog away? What the fuck? This little pug has been tossed aside, dumped. I know what he’s going through. I brought him to you to save him and this is how you treat me?” He resumed his path to the door, cursing himself as tears burned at the back of his eyes. He took a deep breath to steady his emotions. Nope, he surely was not going to cry because this woman was a class A bitch.   
“No, wait. Wait!”
Rick stopped. “What the fuck do you want?”
“You don’t have to get mad. I was only thinking of the animal.”
“Were you? You don’t want some repulsive man to get his hands on this nice little dog?”
She stepped back. “What? No. I never thought that.”
“Then what did you think?” His nostrils flared, adrenaline flowed through his veins. His body prepared to do battle to hang on to his small companion.
“I’m sorry. I just thought. I mean. Well, you are Breaker Winslow, aren’t you?
“Breaker Winslow is dead.” His tone was harsher than he intended.
“Oh. Guess I made a mistake. Come here. Let me take a look at him.” She placed a stethoscope around her neck. You’re right, he needs help.” Her tone had quieted. She shot a tentative smile his way.
Fear slowly seeped out of his body. “You’re not going to take him away again, are you?”
She shook her head. “No, no. I believe you. But this boy is malnourished. He needs medical attention.” She wrinkled her nose. “And a bath.”
“Okay then. Fix him up.” As he handed her the dog, his gaze connected with hers. The blue that had been a haughty frost a few minutes earlier, had softened. He dropped his gaze to the floor. Pity. He recognized it the second he saw it. He hated it worse than derision. Nobody needed to pity Breaker Winslow. He was a rich son-of-a-bitch. If he had lost his profession, his total, identity in the fire, at least he had enough money to lick his wounds in high style. 


Monday, April 24, 2017

TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT "LIFE" #romance #shortstories

Welcome! This week is another snippet of "Break My Heart." If you have missed the earlier posts, Rick "Breaker" Winslow, cover model extraordinaire, has been disfigured by a fire. He's retreated to a farm house on 30 acres to get away from prying eyes and people's comments about his looks. 

   A pug, discarded by his human family on Rick's property, won't leave. Rick, reluctant to get involved, found himself the new owner of the scruffy critter. 
   In this episode, Rick is forced to come out of hiding to take the little creature to the vet. 
   Thank you for stopping by. Scroll down for the link back to Tuesday Tales and the amazing writers there. 


“So you can’t take Scruffy to the vet, Mindy?” Rick asked.
“No. You’ll have to face people sooner or later.”
“Face? Was that a pun? A joke? Talk to you later.” He hung up, took a deep breath, and dialed the vet's office. They had had a cancellation and the doctor could see him in an hour.
“This is all your fault!” He said, wagging his finger at the pug. The big brown eyes staring at him almost melted his anger. “I’m supposed to be a hermit. I bought this place to stay away from people, not rush out and meet ‘em.”
The dog barked.
“I know, I know. That’s life, right? I’m stuck. Damn it.” Rick put the harness on Scruffy and took him for a walk. Then he fastened the pug in the backseat and drove to the vet’s. He grimaced, rubbed his stubbly chin, took a deep breath, and strode up the walk with the canine in tow. When he entered, the nurse sat at the desk, her head down, writing.
“Rick Winslow. I have an appointment?” He turned his good side to her.
“Mr. Winslow? Any relation to Mindy?” The nurse asked, looking up at him.
“My cousin.” He tapped his foot and kept from turning toward her.
“Sweet. Dr. Dani will be with you in a minute,” she said, pushing away from her desk and heading for the back of the office.
Dr. Danny? What is he, like Dr. Doolittle?
The nurse directed him to an exam room. He kept his bad side to the wall as he shepherded Scruffy into the room. A tempting, female rump wearing jeans and bending over grabbed his attention.
“I’ll be with you in a minute,” a feminine voice said.
Oh shit! Dr. Danny's a girl! A woman. I can’t face a woman.
“Look, you’re busy, we’ll come back later.”
“Don’t be silly,” she said straightening up.
She stared at him for a moment before he remembered to turn. She blinked once, glanced at the pug, then spoke.
“Don’t I know you?”
“I don’t think so. You might be wondering about my face. I can explain.”
She turned away from him. “Actually, I’m wondering about him,” she said, pointing to the dog. She scooped him up and set him on the examining table.
“What the happened to him?”
“You call this poor creature ‘Scruffy’? Is that a joke.”
“Sort of.”
 “It’s a very bad one. Look, I’ll have to report you to the humane society for the abuse of this pug.”
His eyes widened as he faced her squarely. No way could he lose Scruffy.. He raised his hands. “No, no. Wait a minute. He’s not mine.”
“Then I can’t treat him. Did you steal him?”
“No, no. Please just give me a minute to explain.”
She made a face, narrowed her eyes and stared at him, holding and petting the animal.
“Someone drove up to my place and dumped him. Right by the side of the road.”
Her frown deepened. “You expect me to believe that?”
“Call my cousin, Mindy. Call Jess Lennox. It’s the truth.”
“And you’re keeping him? For how long?”
Her glance washed over him from top to bottom. Her eyes widened. He still dressed the part of an expensive, successful male model: well-tailored shirt, expensive jeans, Rolex watch, and perfectly combed hair. He rubbed his face, aware he stuck out in this laid-back, country town. He’d grown up here, but had left it behind for the glamour of the big city.
“I don’t know. Forever, I guess. Hadn’t thought about it.”
“I’ll take him. I’m sure I can find a good home for him. Don’t want him messing up your lifestyle,” she said, cocking an eyebrow before turning her back.





Monday, April 17, 2017

TUESDAY TALES - PICTURE PROMPT #shortstory #romance

Welcome! This week is a picture prompt week. I'm only allowed 300 words. We go back to "Break My Heart" this week. Scroll down to get back to Tuesday Tales and my website. Thanks for stopping by. 


He made his way across the lawn with the pug trotting along behind him. A movement in the thick grass caught his eye. A bunny stood like a statue, his nose quivering. 
"I don't think pugs eat rabbits. Go tear up someone's lettuce patch," he said, waving at the furry critter. It scampered away, disappearing into the thicket. 
Rick and the dog entered the house. In the kitchen, he put on the radio and scrambled up enough eggs for himself and the pooch.
“You’re going to need a name. Although "stupid" might fit, the humane society might have something to say about that. Hmm, let 's see.”
The pug’s fur was dirty and matted. He was thin, too thin, making his head look big.
“Boy, no one would ever offer you a job modeling, either,” he said, as he stroked the uneven stubble on his bad cheek. He’d decided to let some scruff grow. Might be spotty, but it would hide some of the scarring and redness.
“You’re pretty scruffy. But then, so am I.” Rick took a swig of coffee and continued to stare at the creature.
“None of the nice names, like Sparky, fit you. So Scruffy it is.”
The dog barked. Rick refilled his water bowl. The canine had no harness or collar. Rick had no idea if he had had shots either.

“We need to get you to the vet. I’ll call Mindy.” He checked the clock. Only seven. Too early to call his cousin. She was probably banging her new husband about now. He lounged back in his chair, thinking about morning sex. God, he loved it. Waking up to a naked, sexy, willing chick beat a mimosa as the best way to start the day.  Didn't look like that would be happening again real soon. 

Return to Tuesday Tales

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Monday, April 10, 2017


Welcome to another episode of "Break My Heart". Sorry, this one got a little long. Scroll down to return to Tuesday Tales, Thanks for coming. 



“Better get your ass up outta there before another car comes along.” But Rick knew there might not be another car down that lonesome road for some time.
“Come on. I’ve got some chicken,” he said, motioning toward the dog. The little creature pushed up on his little legs, walked a few feet, circled a few times, then peed a little lake on Rick’s grass. He returned to his spot and rested his chin on his paws, facing the direction his owner had gone, and didn’t budge.
“You can’t wait here. Didn’t you hear me?”
The dog ignored him.  
“They’re not coming back for you! They’ve dumped you! Deserted you! They don’t want you!” He yelled. The pug glanced at him, then trained his gaze back on the road.
Tears clouded Rick’s eyes. “Stupid mutt. Okay. You’re determined to wait. What the fuck? Your funeral.” His voice low, his shoulders slumped, he turned and headed for the house. Once he reached the sagging front porch, he stopped and looked back. The dog hadn’t moved.
“I get it. Nobody’s coming back for me either, buddy,” he muttered to himself. After one last look at the pug, he opened the door and went inside.

Dinner was a rotisserie chicken, potato salad and cole slaw from the deli. He cut some white meat up and filled a small dish with it.  Walking toward the road, he noticed the little canine hadn’t changed position. There was no growling as he approached. The pooch turned and sniffed. Rick put the bowl down in front of the little beast.
“I tried to tell you. They don’t want you. Honestly. I’m telling the truth. They’re not coming back. You’re homeless now. Just like me. Sort of. Except I have a house. You don’t have anything. I know. Not very nice of me to point that out. I just want you to get out of the road.”
The dog ate the chicken and wagged his tail for a moment. Then he resumed his vigil. He sneezed in Rick’s direction.
“You’re welcome.” Rick opened a bottle of water and filled the now-empty dish. The pug eyed him. As soon as Rick was a safe distance, the animal lapped up all the liquid. Rick shook his head.  
The air had cooled when the sun went down. It was twilight and good weather for sleeping. He yawned, stretched his arms..  
     “Goodnight. Good luck not getting run over,” Rick said and headed back to the house.
He undressed and climbed into bed. There were two pillows, sheets, and a thin blanket on the double bed in the biggest bedroom at the top of the stairs. With no curtains, he could make friends with the moon while he stretched out in bed. A downward glance showed him the little dog was still faithful and hadn’t left. Rick closed his eyes and sleep came quickly.
When he rolled over at seven, the morning sun poked him in the eye. He washed up and headed for the kitchen. Soon the smell of brewing coffee filled the room. He stood by the window. He rubbed his eyes, not believing what he saw. That damn dog was still there.
Wearing nothing but jeans, Rick grabbed a bottle of water and the little bowl and strode out to the edge of his property. A blast from a huge horn startled him. He jumped a mile, then turned his head to see a gigantic truck barreling its way down the road.
“Must have gotten lost,” he muttered to himself. “Come on now, doggie. Time to get up.” But the animal didn’t move. He leaned over, yep the eyes were open, it was alive.
“Shoo! Come on. You’ve got to get outta here. A truck is coming! The fucking thing will flatten you like a pancake! Get up! Get up, you stupid animal!!”
As much as he hollered at the dog, nothing happened. He only had a split second to decide. Rick leaned over, scooped up the dog in his arms and fell backwards onto the grass on his butt. The little creature squirmed like a greased pig, challenging Rick to hold on to him. Dust and fumes covered them as the vehicle roared past missing them by no more than two feet, horn blasting.
“Shut the fuck up!” Rick hollered after the gleaming white behemoth.
The dog wiggled out of his grasp, moved a few steps away and sat, staring at Rick. Panting, tongue lolling, the pug faced the man.
“I just saved your life. You could be a little grateful!”
Then he poured water in the dish and shoved it closer. The dog lapped it up. Rick still sat on the lawn, knees up, elbows resting there, watching his little companion drink. Without warning, the dog ran over, jumped up and licked Rick’s face. The man fell back on the grass as the canine covered both sides of his face with saliva. He laughed, though it was weird to have the tongue coating the right side. No one had touched him there since the surgery. The left was all right, smooth and perfect as always.
The pug backed up, sat on his haunches, and barked. Rick pushed to his feet.

“Okay, okay, yeah, I came back for you. You can come in. Come on. I’m hungry. Let’s eat.”