Ghost of a Chance

Widower Trace Hawthorne has run his life on the left-brained model of an engineer—except for his impulsive move to Egypt with his toddler twelve years ago. When he returns to Minnesota and buys a century-old house, any odd incidents—misplaced items, flickering lights, a boy, Edward, whom no one will claim—he dismisses with logic.

Single mother and herbalist Wynter Storm is poised to expand her business, moonlighting as an interior decorator for extra funds. In denial about her psychic intuition, she senses things about Trace’s new house and about him.

Logic and intuition collide, sparks fly and love ignites. Can they heal past hurts of grief, guilt and abandonment while fending off their matchmaking daughters, curtailing their mothers—one a psychic and the other a busybody—and help the ghost of a small boy find his way home?

I'm very happy to present a new novel from The Wild Rose Press Faery Line, Ghost of a Chance, by Judi Phillips. She and I have been waiting a very long time for this release, contracted way back in November 2007! Snow, hockey, lavender, interior design, two 12-yr-old matchmakers and the ghost of a small boy bring two very different people together in a match no one could have predicted. A conservative engineer recently moved back to Minnesota from Egypt, mixed up with a free-spirited hippie-chick from San Fran (a good place to be FROM, in her mind)--what a combo! I truly enjoyed the three-dimensional characters in this book, and you will too.

EXCERPT:

Wynter had taken advantage of Jenny’s unexpected hockey practice and her mother’s solo excursion into Lost Falls to work uninterrupted in her herb room at home. When the phone rang, she nearly let voice mail get the call but at the last moment picked up the receiver.

“Wynter.”

“Hello, Trace.” From the ragged edges in his voice, she knew something unusual had occurred.

“Wynter. I need you over here.”

“Are you hurt?”

“No.”

“The girls?”

“No, they’re fine. Doug will bring them here after they finish practice.”

“Can you give me an hour or so? A little afternoon delight would be fun, but I’d like to finish up the order I’m working on.”

He was silent for a long moment. Then she heard him take a deep breath.

“Something weird has happened.” He paused. “Could you please come over here? As soon as possible.”

Edward.

“I’ll be right over.”

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Murphy's Surprise

I've been working on a new flowerbed in the front yard since April of this year. Up to this point--for the past six years--this part of the yard has been grass I don't like to mow. Not only did I remove turf grass, clods of clay dirt, rearrange brick edging but I added a dry streambed with 1/2 cubic yard of river rock I shoveled by hand, new dirt and plants (a lovely-smelling tea rose, a deciduous azalea that matches the paint color of the house, several snapdragons, and veggies). I have before pictures, during pictures. I hadn't yet snapped any "after" pictures because I was waiting for the snapdragons to bloom...This is the sight that greeted me at 11am last Friday:

The branch that fell was over 100 years old, according to the ring count. At its base, it was as big around as my waist. So imagine several hundred pounds of solid white oak, crashing where gravity tells it to. Some plants were crushed. One shrub lost half its height but is otherwise fine and my lavendars are kinda ugly at the moment, but they should recover. My new rosebush miraculously survived this fallen branch and another rotten limb above it that was felled on purpose later that afternoon by the contractor we had help us. The azalea of perfect color--that I could only pick in May when it was in bloom--survived the first branch but not the second. Hubby saved some cuttings for me and hopes they will root. The root of the azalea is still in the ground and has one pathetic leaf bunch on it; the plant may survive. We'll see. I'm glad only plants got squashed and not children or dogs, since this happened between 8 and 11 in the morning.

The lettuce and most of the carrots died in the process of cleanup from being stepped on and the contractor unwittingly dismantled my oak-twig gnome house at the base of the fir tree.

My new garden will be pretty again, but for now it's covered in oak-chip sawdust. Some good news is there will be far fewer leaves to rake in the fall from now on, and the whole yard gets more sun and can utilize more water.

Why couldn't this branch (obviously rotten inside) have fallen any time prior to April?

Summer Bliss

I've been hunkered at the keyboard lately, writing to pay for vet bills. Today I took a three-hour procrastination break to climb the ladder and pick these:

To make this:

Yummy.

Princess

Someone has proven herself responsible enough to satisfy us she's ready to own a guinea pig, so we promised that would be this year's birthday gift.

I planned on getting the cage, food, hay, treats, etc. for the birthday one week hence and pick up the critter after we return from Nate's wedding, after Memorial Day.

Curse you, Craigslist.

Last night we were only going to go view the advertised babies and pay for one to reserve it.

Instead we bought, brought home and installed the cutest little fluffball to cross my threshold since Homer was a baby. Kidlet toyed with a variety of names, including "Chocolate Chip" and "Cookie" before settling on "Princess."

For size comparison, I chased her out of her hidey-hole in her garage (which used to be Homer's) and placed both a baseball and whiffle ball in the cage. Both are standard-size. She's soooo little! Five weeks-ish old; she'll get much bigger, of course.

Why didn't you use Homer's old cage, you ask? We pulled it down from the attic but the galvanized steel base had not weathered the years in the attic well and was all corroded. Ew. I wanted a plastic-based cage anyway for ease of cleaning. Much easier to sterilize.

Isn't she cute?

I tell you, waking up to "whoot whoot whoot wheee wheeee wheeeeeee" was wonderful! And her kibble smells so good, like sunlight in a barn, and her hay...ah. As Hubby says, "Smells like home!"

Shadow is VERRRY curious and at this point wants to see what that little squirrel-like thing is and maybe how it tastes...we've warned Kidlet that Princess needs to stay in her cage for the first few days until she is comfortable with us. Homer hid for two days straight, if I recall, before he warmed up to us, and he didn't have a dog staring at him.

Did you crave Vin Diesel in the Riddick movies? You’ll love this spicy version...

In the Andromeda Galaxy, XANDRA MONOCERROS, Princess of Lacerta, dreads the coming of the Fourth Moon. Every five years it appears, drawing death to someone dear. First her mother then her husband. Will this cycle take another loved one? Even worse, Lacerta is heading for the same implosion disaster as their ancestral planet Earth.

Seeking a solution, Xandra crosses paths with DARIUS VAN LAARS—the dangerous outlaw from her visions. Will their intense attraction dissuade Darius from carrying out personal revenge on the man key to saving Xandra’s planet? Can she save Lacerta or will she fall victim to the Legend of the Fourth Moon?

Excerpt:

Xandra sighed. “Don’t tell me you’re still mad?”

Silence.

“Come on. All I wanted was a ride to the planet where you were already heading. Jeez. Whoever it was that claimed women are moody obviously never met you.”

A string of curses assaulted her ears before Darius’ fist pounded a switch. Cold shackles clamped her wrists and ankles and held her immobile to the seat.

“What are you doing?” Heart slamming into her throat, she yanked the restraints and stifled a yelp as hard steel bit into her skin.

Grim-faced, her captor flicked the auto-pilot button, unstrapped himself then stood. Fear—sudden and sharp—stiffened her spine and hiccupped her pulse. Now what? Sense of survival kicking in, she inched her fingers toward the knives sheathed under her sleeves. Drat. The shackles prevented access. Should I use my magic? She chewed her lip and eyed the approaching stranger. Powerful, dangerous; her mind registered him as such while her body heated in response to his strong masculinity. Very dangerous. Forcing her fingers to relax, she drew in a steadying breath, and bless the heavens, logic returned. Magic would only render him unconscious and she’d still be stuck in this chair.

“Give it up, Princess.”

Deep and menacing, his voice echoed through the craft and tripped her heart—along with his next words.

“It’s no use. You’re at my mercy now.”

Large hands curled around her wrists and restraints, sending a shockwave of shivers up her arms. Eyes, no longer frosty, blazed with desire and ravaged her face as he leaned in. She stopped breathing.


Holy cosmos! He was going to kiss her. And she wanted him to.

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When a writer’s life is words on a computer screen, we can forget where we’ve left them all but never where we have not sent them yet. The number of people whose eyes have not read our writing overwhelms us on some days…

My blog is veeeery quiet, yet I’ve written more words in the past two weeks than I have for years.

Just not here.

Reason #1: spending energy writing non-fiction for pay. Go read my non-fiction work, if you’re curious.

Reason #2: fiction words spilling from the brain I share with Patti Ann Colt on a new book we’re writing together. We’re 1/3 of the way into the book in only one month, so the writing is going well. Set in her fictional town of Echo Falls, Texas, the book we’re collaborating on centers on rookie cop Matt Parker and the former homecoming queen he rescues from a bad situation.

Reason #3: SYTYCD Australia. Just a time-waster in general. But loads of fun.

As for forgetting where we've been, I stumbled across this guest-blog post I wrote back in November. The blog owner did not tell me when she'd be posting it so I didn't notice until recently it had posted in February. Go read how revisions from the publishing editor affects both the author and the editor on Fiction Matters.

Kenpo: And I never did tell y'all I won third place overall in our tournament season for the adult division. I got a spiffy trophy. Kidlet won a matching trophy for her division. At the end of this month I will earn my half orange/half purple belt, and in July should earn my purple. Yay me.

This is SO not what I was going to do tonight

Holy Blog Of Doom, Batman! I just had a cup of tea and realised I have not updated this since I had to start working to pay the ridiculous food and gas prices to feed my kid... You would not believe I spend all my time in front of a computer. I hope you still love me! I am absolutely consumed with discovering time doesn't stand still, commitments, just generally being a slave to my employer, my day is passing in a blur from the moment my child manages to unlock my bedroom door and use me as a jumping castle to 11pm at which point I fall asleep on the couch. I am not complaining though. Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you're going to get. I will try to remember I promised you I will write something that makes sense soon. Truly! Until my paycheck dawneth.

(idea stolen from Carrie, who took it from The Lazy Blogger's Post)

It's spring break this week. Let's see, I don't remember Monday, Tuesday was spent at Putters all afternoon with our summer park-group friends, Wednesday...

The feed store has baby chickens and ducks again, so daily I field begging "Let's go to the feeding store and pick up chickens!" I made a deal with her that the answer would be yes if I didn't have to hear it constantly. Once per week, on Wednesdays, just prior to karate class, as the feed store is across the street. We got there early today, to go with plans, and GASP! No chickens. Empty bins. They'll get more April 1. Disappointed Kidlet.

So we proceeded to our next fun thing--we were going to see Bolt! at the cheap-seats-theater, but apparently so was the rest of our town because the showing was sold out. Dejected Kidlet got an ice cream cone and 10 minutes' worth of browsing the toy aisles at Target instead. Just looking, not buying, as we have no money. We did find shoes for her to wear to Nate's wedding in May, to go with her gorgeous flower girl get-up, so the trip to the mall wasn't a total loss. We purchased tickets for Friday's showing instead, so she'll still get to see it.

Thursday we're going to a puppet show with marionettes, The Jungle Book, at our new downtown upscale theater-house. I haven't been inside since they've remodled, so this should be fun. Free show, designed for kids. Can't pass that up.