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Monday, September 15, 2014


 Welcome! This week's prompt "curly" fits into Buddy Carruthers story in the First & Ten series. Take a look. Don't forget to return to Tuesday Tales and read the wonderful other stories there.
The cheerleaders, referred to as The Connecticut Queens, were practicing on the field while the team was warming up. Buddy was dating Christy Mather, a cheerleader for the past three years. Blonde, with long, curly hair, she was gorgeous.

They had been going out for three months. But it was a “no strings” relationship. Buddy insisted on that. He’d never gotten his heart back from Emmie. How could he give what he no longer owned? Christy had seemed content in the beginning, but he noticed her shift, trying to get closer to him.

The two teams broke for lunch. Christy found Buddy before he hit the locker room.
“My folks are coming for the weekend. Dad’s gonna take us out to Manny’s Steakhouse. Wanna come?” She batted her eyes at him and wagged her adorable rear end, like a puppy, anxious to be petted. Hey, Buddy’d pet her, but not in public.
“Can’t this weekend.”
“Oh? We don’t go on the road until next weekend.”
“Yeah. But I’ve got plans. Tell ‘em thanks, and I’m sorry.” Buddy headed for the safety of the locker room.
“You said the same thing last time.” Christy tugged on his arm.
Buddy pulled her aside, walking out of earshot of the others.
“I told you, this isn’t serious. I don’t meet family unless I’m serious.”
“It’s been three months, Buddy.”
“I guess you didn’t believe me.”
“I thought you just needed time.”
“Space. I need space. I like you a lot, Christy. We have fun together. But I’m not looking to settle down.”
She made a face. “When will you be?”

When Emerald becomes Emmie again. “I don’t know. Maybe never.
Don’t wait for me. You’re a beautiful girl. Find someone who wants what you want. It isn’t me.” He cupped her cheek, staring into her eyes.
“Buddy…you’ve been...”
“Don’t go there.”
“But I thought…”
“I told you. Flat out. No commitment.”
She frowned at him. “I can’t help it, Buddy. I’m in love with you.”
“Gotta go.” Buddy brushed her cheek with his lips. Are you in love with me or the millions I’m making? One knee blow-out and it could all be over. Would you still be in love with me?
Buddy trotted to the locker room and stripped off his uniform.

Tuesday, September 9, 2014


 Welcome! Tuesday Tales are back! Here's a snippet from my new football romance series, coming in 2015, called First & Ten. This is the story of Aloyisius "Buddy" Carruthers.
   Buddy turned to his favorite page in the scrapbook. The one with the picture of Emmie and him at the junior prom. She wore a green ribbon in her long dark hair. He rubbed his fingers together, remembering the feel of the ribbon. The color matched her eyes. “Emerald” was his nickname for her because her eyes were the color of the fine gem. She was the funniest, sweetest, most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. And she could sing like an angel. 

   Now she was the famous rock star called “Emerald”. He hadn’t seen her since college graduation, five years ago. She’d shot to the top like a rocket. With her talent and looks, he wasn’t surprised. He glanced at his cell and closed the book. It was almost time for training camp. He placed it on a shelf and sat down at the computer.

   One look at Fb first. He went to the Buddy Carruthers page. Sure enough there were at least four more posts with sexy pictures of women he didn’t know attached. The ones that were too revealing, he deleted quickly, if reluctantly. 
    A star running back for the Connecticut Kings, he was in demand with the ladies.

And Buddy didn’t disappoint. He had a girlfriend in every town. But not the  one he wanted, Emmie. They spent every moment together in college. But it ended badly. She went her way and he went his. Now he lived with regret, he let her get away.

   He closed his computer, grabbed his car keys, fed his fish and his cat, Scruffy, before heading for his car. He put the Miata in gear and roared down the winding road to the stadium. Football was his first love. But it didn’t fill the space in his heart he had given to Emmie Baxter so long ago.

   “Carruthers, get your ass out here,” Coach Bass called.

   “Coming, Coach.” Buddy slammed his locker shut, hiding the picture of Emmie he’d taped to the back. With a sigh and a smile, he joined his teammates on the field. 
Back to Tuesday Tales                                      My website

Friday, August 22, 2014


                                 LEFTIES  -- GOOD OR EVIL? WEIRD OR CREATIVE?
 Yes, I admit it, I'm left-handed. When I was a kid, I looked up the word sinister, which comes from the French "sinistre" or LEFT-HANDED! That's right, the definition of sinister in French isn't evil, it's left-handed! In school, left-handers dealt with modern desks created for right-handed students. We were taught to bat rightie, golf rightie and play tennis rightie. Wasn't being leftie ever going to be good? Not according to myth. Did you know?

1. In India and Indonesia, eating with the left hand is considered impolite.
 2. Chinese characters prove extremely difficult to write with the left hand. 

3.Getting out of bed with the left foot first means that you will have a bad day and be bad tempered . i.e. getting out of bed on the wrong side. 
4. An itchy right palm means that you will receive money. An itchy left palm means you will have to give money.
Getting out of bed with the left foot first means that you will have a bad day and be bad tempered . i.e. getting out of bed the wrong side. - See more at:
Getting out of bed with the left foot first means that you will have a bad day and be bad tempered . i.e. getting out of bed the wrong side. - See more at:
Getting out of bed with the left foot first means that you will have a bad day and be bad tempered . i.e. getting out of bed the wrong side. - See more at:
Getting out of bed with the left foot first means that you will have a bad day and be bad tempered . i.e. getting out of bed the wrong side. - See more at:
Lots of famous people are left-handed. Which one  in each of these trios is left-handed? 1)  Presidents: Herbert Hoover, John Adams or Millard Fillmore? 2) Novelists: W.H. Auden, Lewis Carroll or Mary Shelley?    3) Actors: Joaquin Phoenix, Dan Ackroyd or Paul Rudd? 4) Actresses: Bette Midler, Kate Blanchett or Goldie Hawn? 5) Comedians: Howie Mandel, Jay Leno or Jerry Seinfeld? Leave one "guess" + your email in a comment and I'll pick two people at random on Sunday to choose from any of my ebooks. Here are a couple of covers.


   A few more
famous, left-handed folks: Harry Truman, Bill Clinton, Diane Keaton, Matthew Broderick, Greta Garbo, H.G. Wells, Betty Grable, Cary Grant, Peter Graves, Richard Dreyfuss, Robert DeNiro, Peter Fonda, to name a few.

Thursday, August 14, 2014


Meet Miranda Bradford, heroine of TO LOVE OR NOT TO LOVE.  
    She works two jobs: walking dogs to put food on the table and writing plays, her first love. Miranda is the daughter of Shaw Bradford, the late, famous Shakespearean actor, and his wife, Susan, a nurse. 
   Miranda, or Mira, to her friends and family, is a strong woman. Life has not been easy for them, since her father died. She was seventeen at the time. He had been her idol and she had been devastated. When her mother went back to work, Miranda had to turn down a scholarship and go to college in NYC, so she could look out for her little sister, who was twelve.
   Miranda is a beautiful woman, with raven hair and bright blue/green eyes. Her mother suffers from emphysema. Since her sister is in design school, Mira takes care of her mother after the dog walking duties are over. They are close, but also drive each other a little crazy at times. 
   Miranda can't stay overnight at a guy's house as she's afraid to leave her mom alone, so men frequently wander away when they see her family "baggage." Then Miranda meets Penn. 
He's handsome, wealthy and attentive. She finds him sweet. He appears taken with her, and understands about her life. In fact he comments on how much he admires her devotion to her family and that she's such a giving person. 
All goes well until a secret is revealed, blowing the couple apart. What happens next? You'll have to read the book to find out. Here's a snippet to whet your appetite.

“You’ve shaved and even used aftershave. Running into me was no accident.”
He blushed bright red. “Caught.”
“I think it’s cute.”
“Cute? Ouch. You really know how to hurt a guy.”
“See if you think this is cute,” he said, engulfing her in a strong embrace while he kissed her silly, his tongue demanding entrance, his arms holding her tight. When he broke, she gasped for air. A slow, sensuous grin crossed his lips. “Cute?”
“Earth shattering.”
“You might say,” he said, chuckling.
Miranda licked her lips. “Remind me to call you cute again real soon.”
 Find all buy link for To Love or Not to Love HERE. Thank you for stopping by!    My website

Friday, August 1, 2014


I'd like to share my new release with you. If you like love, romance and pugs, this series is for you.

A varied and rich story about a young, hard-working woman and the wealthy, lonely, young man she meets. 
Drawn together by dogs and laughter, Miranda and Penn fall in love. Until they each discover the true identity of the other. Then love sours. Or does it? 

Here are a few excerpts.

She held the dogs while he knelt down and cleaned her wound. His long fingers gently washed off the lather with a wet towel and then dried the gash. Bruising and swelling had already begun. He tried to keep his attention focused on her knee, but managed to steal a peek at her chest when she leaned forward.

Maggie, John’s wife and Penn’s cook and housekeeper, came in to clear out the dishes.
“Looks like Penn has a new girlfriend,” John said, training the binoculars on the park.
“And you’re spying on him?” Maggie asked him, reaching for them.
“Just to get a glimpse of her.” John moved out of her range.
“Now, now, give me those. The poor lad is entitled to privacy.”
“Hope he doesn’t muck it up this time.”
“You have no faith in our boy.” Maggie put Penn’s empty mug inside the small bowl.
“Wish I did,” John said, still searching.
Maggie pulled on his arm. “Come in now. You’ll meet her soon enough if he takes her out.”
“I suppose,” John said, putting down the glasses and helping his wife remove the dishes.
“I’m praying Uncle Alfred doesn’t stick his nose in.” Maggie turned on the water in the kitchen sink.
“Everyone’s a fortune hunter in his eyes, unless she’s got millions of her own.”
Maggie chuckled. “And if she does, she’s boring as dirt.”

She took a sip and looked up as Penn brought his mouth to hers. His hand on her waist pulled her closer to him. She put the glass down on a table, almost upsetting it to put her arms around his neck. His fingers stroked the soft silk of the back of her camisole as his tongue invaded her mouth, exploring, coaxing, seducing, creating heat. Then, she took a deep breath and stepped away.
“Do you always start with dessert?” she teased, moving back to the railing, running her tongue over her bottom lip, watching him.
He laughed. “Is that a promise?”
“No promises,” she shot back, turning her eyes to the view again.
He walked over to stand behind her and put his hand on her shoulder. His touch on her cool flesh warmed more than her skin. He gently slid the delicate camisole strap down and bent, kissing her where it had lain. His cupped her shoulder while he inched his fingers down her chest until they rested on the exposed top of her breast. Desire raced through her veins, pooling between her legs.
Want to read more? You can find the ebook here: