Monday, April 7, 2014

Puppy Love

The day Alex found her.
Recently, on her way home from a friend's house, my daughter Alex came across a stray dog . Being Alex, she couldn't just leave the poor thing stranded and hungry. Honestly, I was less than thrilled when she dragged said dog home. Seriously. The odds of finding her family were about as good as my chances of winning Ms. Teen Texas. Keep in mind, I'm forty-one, married with children, and have never even considered competing in a pageant.

We already have two dogs. We certainly don’t need a third. 

Karma hanging out in our room.
After speculation with friends, online searching, and a consultation with our vet, we’ve decided she’s likely a Great Dane/Greyhound mix. 

As it turns out, the dog isn’t quite a dog; she’s only 8 months old. She's a very large, 56 pound puppy. So. Yeah. That.
Karma thinks she's a lap dog.
She’s not only another dog in the house, but a huge-ass pup, still in the chewing stage. She’s already eaten the baby fig tree in the back yard, which my husband’s mom gave him for his birthday. Somehow I doubt it’ll be the last thing eaten by our newest family member.

Though it's probable she'll destroy a few more household items and possibly some apparel, we’ve had Karma for three weeks and she's already left her big paw prints all over my house and my heart. She's quite the character and has brought her own spark to the family. Karma is floppy and playful, yet shy. Unfortunately, she’s obviously been through something that has made her wary of men. However, she is gradually warming up to my husband Mike, which thrills him to his soul, even if he’d never admit it in a gagillion years. Each time she pushes her muzzle into his hand or lays her head on his chest, it’s a small victory for us—and for her.
Mike plays with Karma and our toy poodle Penny.

She likes to have all the toys piled around her.
All Karma wants out of life is to be loved. Well, actually, to be loved and to have ALL the toys, ALL the time. 
Me "winning" a pageant. HA!

We actually DID find her original family, and I'll post that story sometime soon. Right now, I need someone to loan me a prom dress and fit me for a tiara. I’ve got a pageant to win.

Funny how the things we don’t want, or we’re sure will be a pain in the ass, often turn out to be some of the best parts of our lives. What have you thought would be a trial that ended up a blessing? 

Monday, March 10, 2014

Pitch Madness Pitch

Thanks for stopping in! This is my entry for Pitch Madness.
If you're interested, check the tabs along the top and you can read the first few chapters of my books.

If you are a contestant in Pitch Madness, then I wish you all the luck, truly!


Title: SECRETS I KEEP
Genre: NA Contemporary Romance
Word Count: 60,000



Pitch:

Lily survived a childhood of abuse. To protect her little sister from the same nightmare, she must confront her past and reveal her darkest secrets, but the truth may cost her the man she loves.


Excerpt:

The tumbler turns in the lock. I hold my breath.

Two…Three…Four.

Nothing.

If it weren’t for Sophie and Mom, I’d run.

My ears strain for signs that someone’s awake. In the living room, the muted television’s flickering light illuminates the figure sprawled on the sofa.

My pent up breath escapes. It’s just Mom, not him. I spread the quilt over her and turn off the TV.

Down the hall, I push open Sophie’s door and stumble over toys to her bed.

She rubs her eyes. “Mom took those pills for her somnia. Is she asleep?”

My heart cringes. It does every time Sophie asks about Mom. “It’s insomnia, Soph. Yes, she’s sleeping. Seven-year-olds should be too, kiddo.”

A door slams. Every muscle in my body grips the nearest bone. Sophie inhales like she’s going to speak, but I cover her mouth. We wait, eyes wide, watching for movement or shadows in the crack of light around the door.

Sophie’s jaw clenches under my palm. A banging in the kitchen is followed by shattering glass and slamming cabinet doors, then cursing.

Minutes inch by on their hands and knees. Footsteps come, and then retreat. I count to ten and whisper, “Was he gone all evening?”

“Yeah.”

Relief floods my veins. Maybe he’ll go straight to bed and leave us alone.

I climb in next to Sophie, brushing the hair off her forehead. Once again, I stay the night in Sophie’s room to guard against the last person she should need protection from— our father.