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Thursday, June 19, 2014


Welcome to the Summer Vacation Blog Hop!! Summer vacation memories...
    In my single days, I spent many summers on the beach at Fire Island, New York. Young men and women rented houses and lived together on weekends all summer long. 
 You didn't need much clothing, just a couple of bathing suits, a pair of shorts and a T-shirt or two. Oh, and flip-flops!

   There's nothing on Fire Island -- no roads, no cars, hardly any stores, maybe a couple of restaurants and bars. 
That's it. Some towns had only a small store. You had to take a water taxi to get from town to town.  The island was beautiful, with glorious sunsets, clear clean water, bright sun and cloudless, blue skies. The ocean was on one side and the bay on the other. I had my first shower in the sunshine in an outdoor shower! And, no, I'm not going to tell you if I was in there alone.
The main drag is a wood path. The houses sit on sand. The front lawn is sand and the trees are scrub pines. The atmosphere is laid back. We played cards, drank cocktails, and cooked together. 
We went to the nude beach and made love with whoever we wanted. It was a free era, a long time ago.
I adored my time there. I made friends and broke out of my shell. 

I've put aside my privacy rule and written about Fire Island in my book, LOVE'S LAST CHANCE, from my series, Hollywood Hearts.
Please leave a comment and your EMAIL ADDRESS for a chance to win a copy, or any other copy of one of my books. I'll pick 2 winners. Please say "yes" if you'd like to receive my new newsletter. 
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Monday, June 16, 2014


Welcome! This week I'm exploring another character from my new series, First & Ten. Meet Pete Sebastian, a/k/a, Coach Bass.
Pete Sebastian looked forward to Father’s Day. His twin daughters, Emily and Mikki, were Daddy’s little girls from the minute they were born. They cooked up something special for him every year, always taking him by surprise.
After his wife left the girls with him to “find herself”, he had to become the disciplinarian and the nurturer. Neither role suited him naturally, but he learned and adjusted, priding himself on a job pretty well done for a man starting at square one. Hell, coaching a football team was a piece of cake compared to raising two girls on his own.
Now they were in college and his job at home wasn’t quite so full time. He wondered if he could find another woman, a better one. Pete turned forty-three and had no idea where to begin when it came to dating. 
He knew what he wanted. This time he’d choose I.Q. over bra size. No more flighty, self-absorbed women, no matter how willing. No sir. Had to be an intelligent woman. But pretty.
Sexy wouldn’t hurt. Did he remember how to make love to a woman? Yes, it had been that long because his daughters came first and that didn’t leave much time for a sex life.
Pete watched his men spruce up in the locker room for dates. He envied them the beautiful women on their arms. Carl Woodley, owner of the Connecticut Kings, patted him on the shoulder.
“Now the girls are out of the house, when are you gonna get a woman?”
“Not many women looking for an old man like me.”
“You’re not old. Hell, even I’m not old at sixty-six!”
At five o’clock, the administration offices cleared out. He’d been hoping Carl might hire some bright young woman in the front office, but no such luck. A new P.R. guy, Joe-something was due to start soon.
Plucking his jacket off the hook, Pete resigned himself to another night at The Savage for a couple of brews and a burger.  Totally preoccupied, he walked out of his office and smacked into someone coming down the hall at a good clip. He looked up with tired eyes.
Huge, startled, green eyes blinked.
“Excuse me. I’m so sorry,” she stammered. “I’m looking for Mr. Woodley.”
“Carl? Just missed him.” Pete’s gaze flew down the slim, female body wearing a dark gray suit and a blue shirt. He noticed lovely curves and had to stop staring before he began to blush.
“Can I help you?”
“You are?” She straightened, pulling her jacket down, revealing a little cleavage. Pete’s gaze went straight to her chest.
“Uh, um. Pete Sebastian, Coach of the Kings,” he said, feeling like a schoolboy with his first boner.
“Josephine Parker. Please call me, Jo,” she smiled and extended her hand. The room got several thousand watts brighter. Pete took her small, soft fingers in his and didn’t want to let go. “I’m the new P.R. Director.”
“So you’re Joe? Well, well, what a surprise.” 
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