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Saturday, October 15, 2016

#Baseball #Romance to warm your heart! Dan Alexander, Pitcher, first of the BOTTOM OF THE NINTH series!

Brand new book! Here's a bit about it:

Fed up with cheating women, Dan Alexander, star pitcher for the New York Nighthawks, grew restless. Searching for something more than a bar babe, he zeroed in on a girl in the stands. He never expected to see a beautiful chick pushing frankfurters. But the hot dog girl looked as smokin’ as the food she was selling.
Holly Merrill found a place to hide in plain sight, as a vendor at Nighthawks’ stadium. Keeping her secret safe and simply happy to stay alive, she never considered finding love an option. After all, a bad girl doesn’t deserve a decent guy, does she?
Coming off his best season ever, Dan went into the playoffs, hell bent on winning the pennant and playing in the World Series. But could he maintain his focus on the field, where everything was going right, when off the field everything was falling apart?   

Have a taste:

Dan was tired. His six-foot-three-inch frame needed sleep. He raised his hand in greeting to Bud Magee as they passed in the hall, before the pitcher ran smack dab into a young woman. He would’ve knocked her to the ground, if he hadn’t caught her first. He’d never seen her before, but her wide, blue eyes and hair the color of mink captured his attention.
“Excuse me, miss. I didn’t see you.” Though she felt good in his arms, he let go before she started to scream.
“Dan Alexander, one of our top pitchers. This is Holly Merrill. She’s new. Gonna be selling hot dogs for us.”
“Welcome,” the ball player said, as his gaze slid down her curvy body.
“Thanks.” She straightened her shirt and smoothed her jeans.
After shooting her a sexy grin, he tipped his cap and replied, “The top pitcher.” With a chuckle, he disappeared into the locker room.

Then, it happened. She dropped a hot dog loaded with mustard. The man in the stands stood up and started hollering. Holly bent over to clean it up. The guy in the TV booth running the camera zeroed in on her ass, and there it was, cute and big as life on the Jumbotron!
People clapped and hooted. The players laughed. Dan held his breath. She craned her neck and looked around. Although Dan couldn’t hear what the man was saying, the pitcher saw him point to the giant screen. Dan cringed as she spied her backside, huge, amusing the crowd.
Her hand few to her mouth. She picked up the cart and ran up the stairs.
The camera went back to the action on the field. Dan’s stomach flipped. His heart melted. She didn’t deserve that, and he wasn’t sure she'd be able to deal with that kind of humiliation. The inning was over, and it was time for the seventh inning stretch. He looked for Holly, but couldn’t find her anywhere.
He approached his manager. “Cal, need me?”
“You can hit the showers, Alexander. Game’s almost over.”
“Thanks.” He left the dugout and headed for the concession stand. Bud Magee was behind the counter. Dan asked him where Holly was.
“What the hell happened? She dumped her cart and ran out of here like a bat out of Hell.”
Dan explained then asked, “Where’d she go?”
“Damned if I know. Probably back to my place. She’s a good kid, but she needs to get a sense of humor.”
Dan thanked Bud and headed for the gate. He’d been to Bud’s house many times for big dinners, especially during the off season, when they could drink what they wanted and stay up late. He saw a figure walking fast up the sidewalk. He broke into an easy lope and caught up with her. She had her head down and held a tissue to her face. A queasy feeling grabbed Dan’s stomach. He hated crying women. He never knew what to do or say, and whatever he did only seemed to make them cry more.
He cupped her shoulder with his big palm. “Wait. Wait. Holly?”
She stopped in her tracks, but didn’t turn around. He felt her tremble.
“Hey, come on. Nothing’s that bad.”
“You didn’t have your ass, big as the Empire State Building, on TV.” Her tone was sharp, but she had stopped walking.
“No, can’t say I’ve ever had that honor. That I know of. They get shots of us when we don’t know it. Some pretty embarrassing too.”
She turned to face him. “Yeah? Like what?” She trained gorgeous blue eyes on him and rested her hands on her hips.
“Like a guy picking his nose or scratching his…his crotch.” Now, Dan was the uncomfortable one. He raised his gaze to hers.
She was laughing.


“All I ask is that you not be an asshole. Is that too much?” Jake directed his request to Matt Jackson.
“Shut the fuck up,” the catcher said, in a low voice.
Dan cracked up. “Sounds reasonable to me.”
“Same goes for you,” Matt said, pointing a finger at his friend.
“No stories. No fake names, okay? No hitting on the first woman you see. And, no hitting on Valerie!” Dan said.
“Afraid of a little competition?” Matt asked.
“I might be if it came from someone like Jake. But you? Uh, no!”
Matt pushed back into the seat and frowned.
Jake poked Dan. “Remember the time he told some chick his name was Pancho Villa?”
“And she didn’t even know who Pancho Villa was, but Jackson wanted to sleep with her anyway,” Dan said.
“Until he said he couldn’t speak Spanish. Then, there was no way she was going home with him,” Jake croaked out.
“Then, he told her he was a pro baseball player, and she didn’t believe him. Remember what she said?” Dan could hardly speak he was laughing so hard.
“Yeah, yeah! She said, and I quote, ‘next you’ll tell me you’re George Bush’.”
At that, Jake and Dan doubled over, laughing until they cried. Even Matt couldn’t stay angry. He joined his buddies. The men were still chuckling when the cab stopped in front of the club. 


I have 35 books & short stories published. You can find them here: 



Monday, October 3, 2016


 Hi! Welcome to my Tuesday Tales piece. We're still on Maggie's Story this week. Last week she confessed to John about something that tore her up inside. Here's the continuation of their encounter. Scroll down for the link to return to Tuesday Tales.


            A thousand thoughts ran through Maggie’s mind during the silence that ensued after she had confessed to John –and none of them good. His gaze rested on the floor, though his hand still gripped hers. She eased away from him, toward the nightstand.
            “Guess I’ll be going now.”  She stepped back toward the door.
            John tightened his hold, drawing her closer. “Just where do you think you’re going?”
            “I understand completely. What man would want a woman as his wife who had done so, so terrible?”
            “I would,” he said quietly. “Forget about it. You’re mine and that’s that. I’m sorry you had to endure that, old girl. But never again. No one will ever mistreat you again,” his voice was soft, but firm.
            Her eyes watered.
            “And where the hell was that bloke? If it’a been me, I’d’ve taken you away so fast –punched your dad in the nose,” he said, through gritted teeth.
            “Awww. John,” she sighed, shaking her head slowly.
            “No one would ever do that to my girl. Never. Never.” He held her fast.
            “Am I your girl for ever and ever?” She asked, fastening her arms around his neck.
            “You’re my wife, Maggie. And that’s forever.”
            She smiled and snuggled into his chest.
            “Then what are we doin’ standin’ here? With the bed empty and all?” She whispered.

            He laughed, then picked her up and tossed her on the mattress. 

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Monday, September 26, 2016


Welcome! This week is picture prompt week. We're in Maggie's Story, still. Scroll down for the link back to Tuesday Tales and the excellent stories there. Thanks for stopping by. 


Maggie slipped into John’s bed. Now that they were engaged, the Roberts’ didn’t mind them sleeping together. Plans were underway to add a door and connect the two bedrooms so they could have a sitting room.
            John slid in next to her.
            “Okay, Maggie, what did you want to tell me?”
            She picked at the trim on her new nightgown, her head bowed. Facing him was more than she could do.
            “Out with it. You’re sitting there, so pretty.” He took her hand in his.
            “It’s not that easy.”
            “Nothing you could say would make a difference. I love you, girl.”
            “Don’t be so quick to say that.”
            “Please, Maggie.”
            “Okay, then. Well. I was sent here on purpose.”
            “To find work, right?”
            “Yes and no. I’d done something at home.”
            “Done something?”
            “Disgraced my family. When I was sent here, it was clear there was no going back.”
            John was quiet. He increased the pressure on her hand.
            Maggie took a shuddering breath. She’s sworn to herself she’d never admit this to anyone. Now she was taking a big chance he wouldn’t want her anymore.
            “I’d had a beau,” she said, stopping to clear her throat.
            “Go on.”
            “Edward. Eddie he was.”
            John nodded, his eyes hooded.
            “Well, we made a mistake. We goofed.”
            “I got pregnant.” She stopped when she heard his intake of breath.
            “What happened to it?”
            “Me dad and mum made me get rid of it.” The sting of tears had her blinking.
            “You had an abortion?”
            Unable to say the word, she nodded.
            “Fuckin’ damn,” he said shaking his head.
            “Told ya it was bad,” she said. “He’d be about little Penn’s age by now, I imagine.”

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Tuesday, September 20, 2016


Welcome! Thanks for stopping by. Maggie's Story continues this week. Scroll down to return to Tuesday Tales. 


“I’m coming, I’m coming,” called Anne Roberts, bustling into the kitchen, brandishing a pen. “Where do I sign?”
Her husband was hunched over, writing his name on a document. He finished, stood and looked at his wife.
“I’ve never been a witness to a marriage before. I mean not in the legal sense. I mean signing my name and all.”
“Anne, you’re cute. You signed our marriage license,” Mr. Roberts said.
“Oh, yes, that’s right. I did.” She colored a becoming shade of pink. “Where should I?”
“Right here, Missus,” John said, pointing to a line with an “x” on it.
“Very good, John. Thank you.”
The butler took Maggie’s hand and gave it a squeeze. His eyes glowed as he glanced at her.
“There you go,” Anne said, straightening up.
“Congratulations,” Mr. Roberts said, shaking John’s hand. Anne gave them each a hug.
“Here’s a little something for the wedding,” the master of the house said, slipping a check into John’s hand.
“Thank you, sir. It’s official, my lady. We’re married, ceremony or no,” John chuckled.
Maggie picked at a tissue in her hand. Her eyes watered with happiness and fear.
Anne handed a bottle of champagne to her husband. He poured four glasses.
“To a long and happy life together,” he said, raising his flute.
What happens when John finds out what I’ve done?
Maggie’s stomach clenched.



Monday, September 12, 2016


Welcome! Maggie's Story continues with an excerpt written to the prompt "paper". Don't forget to return to read the great Tuesday Tales authors. Scroll down for the link. 


Maggie didn’t believe John was serious about marriage until the night he pulled something from his pocket, and it wasn’t a ring.
 “What’s this?” She asked as he opened an envelope.
“Marriage license. Seems we need one to get hitched in this country.”
He flattened the sheet of paper and pointed to an empty line with an “x” next to it.
“Sign here.”
“Just you wait one pretty minute, John Eldridge,” she said, bringing the document closer.
“You don’t trust me?” His eyes widened.
She shot him  skeptical look before turning her gaze  back to the writing.
“What did you think it was?” He asked.
“Dunno. Just want to make sure.”
“I’ve already signed it.”
She put the paper down as water clouded her vision. John ran his hand down her arm, his voice gentle.
“Did you think I proposed to you only for sex? I meant every word.”
“I see,” she choked out.
“What’s wrong?”
“Haven’t been too many been good to me, is all. Just makin’ sure.”
He kissed the top of her head and slipped his arm around her. “Let’s spend our days bein’ good to each other.”
She smiled up at him. “Sounds all right to me.” Maggie bent over the kitchen counter and signed her name. “There you go.”
John lowered his mouth to hers for a deep kiss. Maggie melted in his arms for a moment before she regained her senses and stepped back.
“Stop. The Missus'll be here any moment with Penn.”
“Okay, but you’re hard to resist.”
Shooting him a shy smile, she patted his chest and watched him tuck the license back in his breast pocket.
“It’s done, you know.”
“Once you sign the paper, we’re legally married.”
“Without a proper preacher?"

“Yep. Too late to back out now, Maggie, my girl.”
"You old trickster!" She smiled up at him. 

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