Cold I got, but... Where is the HOT?

by Jena Galifany

Winter this year has been something else. In the east, it has been horrible from what I've seen in the news. I'm in the west, in the high desert. It's been cold, but not like back east. I feel so sorry for those that are in it.

I should feel guilty that I complain all year round that I'm cold. Winter is cold, in the 40s and 50s which is nothing compared to what some of my on-line friends endure. We have summer weather around 100 to 110, so when it gets to the 50s, I'm freezing.

Our summer can last from May until well into November (I once went water skiing on New Years Day) so when winter gets here, I'm cold. I'm also cold all summer. I know it sounds silly but I have 3 blankets on my bed all summer and another couple on top of that in the winter. My husband works as an auto mechanic. He is outside all day in that 100 to 110 degree heat. When he gets home, he wants it cold in the house. Once it gets down to 65, I'm cold. I wear a jacket in the house all summer.

I live in a brick house that was built by my husband's grandfather when Steve's mother was 12 years old. Steve was born into this house and has lived here most of his life. Grandfather had A.D.D. and did some rather creative things when he built the place. I was told that he never completely pounded in any one of the nails in the place. Someone had to go along behind him and finish the job. Anyway, there is no insulation in a brick house other than the thickness of the paint on the walls. I can now appreciate tapestries mentioned hanging in castles of old. I don't have any but I can appreciate them.

Don't get me wrong. I love my husband, the Ice King. He screams like a little girl when I put my frozed hands under his shirt and touch his sides. I love my house and the 2.5 acres of land that came with it. I love where I live. But I'd really love to be warm at least one month out of the year. Is that too much to ask?
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A snow storm brought Ty Synclair and Alexis Rivers together. Spending time working with the men of ShadowsForge are one of the few ways I can get warm.

Alexis Rivers

Ty Synclair

ShadowsForge 1: Three Times a Hero

Bass player Ty Synclair is discontented with the women that come through his life who love him for his money, image, and fame.  He believes there has to be one woman, somewhere, who will love him for who he is, not the package sold to the public.

Alexis Rivers is finished with her abusive boyfriend and finished with love altogether.  She wants a man who would simply love and appreciate her.  Since he doesn't seem to exist, she wants to remain alone for the rest of her life.  The problem is her heart doesn’t agree with her decision, a decision that crumbles fast after literally running into Ty Synclair in the middle of a blizzard.

Can two cold hearts spark a fire, when they collide on a snowy mountain road and spend three days alone together in a snowbound cabin?

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Excerpt:

Ty jogged through two hundred feet of calf-deep snow at the side of the road, to where tracks went over the side. The Nova had continued its uncontrolled slide off the road, dropped about fifteen feet, and slammed dead center into a fair sized pine tree. The front end hugged the tree, keeping the vehicle from falling into the gorge. It was on a greater incline than the Honda with only one lone pine to hold the much heavier vehicle. Ty couldn't see anyone moving or trying to get out. Not a good sign.

Ty lowered himself carefully down the hillside to the driver’s door and found a dazed young woman behind the wheel. Blood trickled down the side of her face from a cut across her forehead. Her lap belt was snug around her heavy lavender coat. She was looking around, quite confused.

“Bloody hell,” Ty exclaimed, at the sight that met his eyes.

With the fender pushed back over the seam of the door, it took several tries to get the door opened. Ty wedged his boot against the edge of the fender, gripped the door handle, and pushed as hard as he could. The metal screeched in protest before it crumpled out of the way. Ty was thankful that he found the strength, thinking it had all drained from him in tonight's performance.

He searched through her car, trying to locate something to press to her bleeding forehead. Seeing nothing, he unbuttoned the bottom of his jacket long enough to rip the tail from his yellow shirt.

With the door open and the windshield broken, the warmth from the interior was quickly escaping. Ty unbuckled her lap belt and gently moved her over. He slid in beside her, pulling the door closed to preserve what heat he could. She proved to be very light as he settled her, getting her to lean her head back. He carefully brushed a few strands of blue-black hair from her delicate face and pressed the cotton material against the cut, trying his best to remember what to do for a head injury. Her eyes searched the ceiling of the car, wandering aimlessly.

“Do I look like a bleedin’ Boy Scout?” Ty spoke to himself, attempting to calm the anxiety that was creeping up, trying to overwhelm him. “They’re always prepared. I’m not. Come on, Synclair, stay calm.” He moved closer to her. “Miss?”

Ty hoped to bring her back to coherence long enough to find out who she was or where she was coming from. Hopefully she didn’t live too far away. If he could get his car up on the road, he could at least get her some help. Or walk there if it wasn’t too far.

The mobile phone.

Duh.

He quickly searched his jacket pockets with one hand. Gone. Must have fallen out when he hit the trees. Have to check when I get the bleeding stopped. He pressed firmly against the material held to her brow.

A moan escaped her lips, startling Ty from his thoughts. He shook back his thick hair, placing his mouth close to her ear. “Miss?”

"Oh, Lord.” She turned toward him. “You’re up already?”

The girl stared at him with deep, brown eyes. But in those dark pools, Ty saw something he didn’t like.

Terror.

She gave a startled cry, sliding from his touch, pushing his hand away as she grabbed the handle of the passenger door, tugging franticly. Her knit gloves would not allow her to get a good grip on the handle, her hands slipping continually from the metal lever.

“Calm down, lady.” He tried to hold her, fearing she would hurt herself further as she pulled with futility at the door handle.

“Don’t hurt me, Les.” She screamed in breathless terror, using the last of her strength to pound her fist on the glass. Panic quickly overcame her. She slipped from consciousness.

Ty heard a crunching sound. The car lurched to the side, swinging around the tree about a foot before it stopped. It was obvious that the car had no intention of staying where it was for very long.

Ty caught the girl as she slumped against the door, leaning her against his chest. He had to get her out of the car before it decided to give in to gravity. Ty grabbed her bag from the floor, placing it on her lap. Carefully, he pushed himself backward to the door, gently pulling the girl along by her coat. He tried to move as smoothly as he could, not wanting to make any jarring moves that might set the vehicle into motion.

Pretty daft of me to climb in here in the first place.

Her struggle had apparently upset the balance of the vehicle and he had no intention of making it worse. He reached behind his back, pushing the door open as slowly as he could while holding on to her.

With the angle of the car, it was difficult to push the door open. After several tries, he turned, giving it a shove. When he did, the door sprung all the way open. He jammed his boot against it to keep the door from rebounding closed again. He cursed as the car shifted again, another foot toward the gorge.

Ty held his breath until he felt the car stabilize. He slid out of the Nova, planting his boots as firmly on the snowy hillside as he could. Now that he was standing, he dragged the girl across the seat. He grabbed her bag and threw it behind him while holding on to her collar. Once he was sure of his footing, he tugged gently on her jacket, sliding her slowly out. She was dead weight and he didn’t know what injuries she might have, so he feared moving her too quickly.

He had her upper body clear of the car when there was a creaking sound and the snow beneath the tires crunched in protest as the heavy vehicle began to slide in earnest. Ty wrapped his arms under hers, leaning uphill away from the car, digging his heels in as he tried to pull her clear.

Her booted foot caught on the steering wheel as the Nova gave in to gravity.
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ShadowsForge 1: Three Times a Hero

http://whiskeycreekpress.com/authors/Jena_Galifany.shtml
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Cheers!
Jena

Welcome to March Madness by Jena Galifany

To most people, March Madness has something to do with Basketball. At least that's what came up when I googled it. Not my thing, though. When it comes to sports, if you want me to play football, baseball, or basketball, I'm all for it (or was some years ago. I'd probably break something now). If you want me to sit and watch, nope. It ain't happening. I'll watch drag racing. Anything else, no thank you.

March Madness in my neck of the woods will include, but is not limited to, editing and hopefully releasing my latest book, DAY LABOR,  attending a business luncheon to learn how to be better at business since I own and operate a used book store, a children's clothing store, and an answering service that is in litigation due to an upset competitor (long story best left alone for now). The court date is in March. My youngest child will be turning twenty-one on the twenty-third.

Amanda, Nick, and Jenevie - My Children

DAY LABOR is the product of the 2011 NaNoWriMo. It is a story that I wrote in my head some time ago after seeing a young man standing on the street corner with a nicely lettered sign that simply stated "DAY LABOR". He was dressed in jeans, a denim jacket and work boots. He looked ready to work at a moments notice and I was impressed by his smile and attitude as he tried to hustle some form of employment. Most of the guys like this in my town don't even stand up. They sit on the curb and hold up a scribbled sign that can hardly be read.

I saw him and he stuck in my mind. In the time it took me to drive from that corner, approximately three and a half miles to my house, I had most of the outline finished in my head. I love it when that happens. I dashed off my notes into the computer and promptly forgot about it, until NaNoWriMo came up about two years later. Now was my chance to make the story come to life. I had watched the entire "movie" in my head several times so I know it wouldn't take long.

It took me twenty-nine days to write the first draft of DAY LABOR. It is probably considered to be chick lit. After polishing and buffing and sanding it into shape, I was please when it was accepted by Red Rose Publishing. Now the real work will begin. I've been contacted by the editor and await the first round. Needless to say, I'm excited.

With luck, DAY LABOR will be released in March and I'll have eight books to brag about, I mean promote. I'm sorry I don't have any cover art yet, but I'll share it as soon as I have it.

Wish me luck and not too much MADNESS!

STORY BLURB: 

How far should a woman go to give the man she loves everything he wants? Beth does what ever it takes to assure Mark's happiness. With any luck, he will never know what she's done to give him what he wants most.

How far should a man go to provide for the needs of the woman he loves? Troy will do what ever it takes to provide for his wife during her high risk pregnancy. With any luck, she will never know what he's done to give her the best care money can buy.

EXCERPT:

“Breakfast is ready.” Beth called down the hall and watched as Mark trudged toward her, tucking in his shirt tail. As he passed her on the way to the kitchen, he gave her a weak peck on the cheek. “How romantic.”

“Best I can do. Apparently I’m not good for much any more.” He dropped into the chair at the table, and took a slow drink of his coffee.

Beth grimaced. “Now you're sounding like Grant. You’re great at a lot of things, Mark. Why are you letting the whole thing get to you like this? Does this challenge have anything to do with Grant and that stupid letter almost a year ago?” She sat at her place across from him, and took her fork in hand.

“Grant has nothing to do with me being a failure. That’s all on me.” Mark poured syrup on his pancakes. He took another drink of coffee, his gaze on his plate.

“This all started with that letter. Did he tell you that if you had a baby in a certain amount of time, you’d get into his will?” She huffed as she grasped at any idea that would explain why the urgency and pressure. “Tell him to stuff it. We don’t need his money. We’ve got plenty of our own.”

Mark shouted, “It’s not the money.” Beth jumped at his out-burst, and dropped her fork into her plate. “I want a baby!” Mark stood abruptly, turned and left the room.

Beth remained at the table, unable to understand what just happened. Mark had never raised his voice to her before. Tears pooled in her eyes as she sat stunned. She waited for him to come back into the room. She could hear him gathering his things for work. She’d wait, and give him some time to calm down. She tensed when she heard his foot falls coming down the hall. He stopped at the kitchen door and stared at her for a long moment.

“I’m sorry, Beth. I don’t know why this is eating at me like it is. I nearly beat a confession out of some scum bag yesterday. If Ari hadn’t stopped me, I’d probably be up on charges of brutality. I just wish I could do this one thing. That would make everything all right again.” He moved to her side, knelt down, and took her hand. “We’ll find some way to make this happen. I promise.” He kissed her hand, and stood. “I’ve got to go.”

            Before she could respond, Mark walked briskly through the kitchen and out the door to the garage. She listened to the outside garage door opening and closing. Beth took a deep breath as she made up her mind to seek out the man that could possibly help give her husband what he so desperately wanted.

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So there you have it. My version of March Madness. By the end of March, I should have a new book to promote, a business free and clear of any legal matters and all of my children of legal age. I'm sure after all of this, I'll be ready to move into April with happy dances and songs.

No, wait. April 1st, my husband will  turn fifty-five. April 2nd, Jury Duty. (sigh)

Cheers!

Jena Galifany

Miss the 80s or missed the 80s? Jump on the tour bus with ShadowsForge. They'd love to show what it's like to be on the road, rocking the U.S. and dealing with wine, women, and song. Meet the band HERE.

Visit my WEBSITE.

Join me on FACEBOOK.

Love: Oh, How It Can Be Difficult Sometimes by Jena Galifany

Have you notice that LOVE can be difficult sometimes? It's never easy to begin a new relationship. Meeting, getting to know one another, knowing how quickly to move each step of the way. Thank God that I have Steve and don't ever have to go through any of that again. I've caught my limit.

But for those who are still in the game, I wish you the best of everything in the newness of discovering that special someone.

Geoff Richards, on the other hand, starts a new meaningful relationship nearly every night. He's the lead voice for the 80s British rock band ShadowsForge, and he falls in love at least once every twenty-four hours... until he meets the one woman who doesn't fall for him in the first moments of their meeting. Now it's imperative that he make Valerie fall for him. His ego is at stake.

Before long, he falls into his own trap. The love bug has taken a bite out of him but how will he change his ways and remain faithful to the woman he loves?  He's doing his best, keeping to himself, until one week after the band leaves Valerie in London and heads across the pond to the U.S.A. for more tour dates, Geoff falls off the fidelity wagon. At least he thinks he did. Why else would Diane, the wardrobe lady for the band, be in his bed when he wakes up. What will Valerie think of him now? If only he could remember what happened the night before.

Geoff has a surprise as he tries to sleep in the back bunk of the tour bus while on the way to the next venue.
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“Geoff?”

Geoff awoke to the thrumming of the road beneath the wheels.  It sounded like Valerie calling his name.  He felt a twinge of guilt as he looked around for her.  Setting up, he pushed aside the curtain, looking forward.  Valerie wasn’t there.  Puzzled, Geoff dropped the curtain, turning over to return to his pillow.

“Geoff?” Valerie knelt on the bed beside him.  He was startled to find her so close, not knowing how or when she had gotten there.

“Val.”  His heart thumped hard in his chest.  “I missed you.”

“That’s not what Nigel told me.” She wore a sad look in her eyes that raised a lump in Geoff’s throat.

“What did Nigel tell you?” He raked his fingers through his hair, hoping that the manager hadn’t told her everything.  “You know how much he likes to embellish things for the sake of publicity.”

“He told me that you attacked someone.  That you took a girl to your room and forced her.”  A tear escaped, making its way down her silky cheek.

“Do you believe him?” Geoff tried to play it off.  He wasn’t exactly sure what he had done, making it difficult to defend himself.  He'd puzzled for the last day and a half, trying to remember but nothing was clear.  Now his foolishness was causing the lady he loved heartache and he didn’t know what to do about it.

“You lied to me.” Her voice was low, ominous.  “You loved me.”

“I do, Baby.” He tried to reach out to her.  He ached to hold her, to show her how much he loved her.  She pulled away, anger clouding her blue eyes.

“You don’t know what love is.”  She spat the words out, point blank.  “You sing about it every night but you have no idea what it is or how it works.”  Geoff could see her rage building.  He pulled himself to his knees facing her, trying again to reach for her.

“Let me explain…”

“NO.“  She pulled a butcher’s knife from the edge of the mattress.  Geoff felt the blood drain from his face.  She stood on her knees, wild eyes targeting him.  “You love me.  No one else.”  She slashed the knife at him, barely missing his chest as he fell back. 

“Val, listen to me.  I drank too much.  I was missing you.” He tried to explain, afraid to run; afraid she would stab him in the back if he attempted it.  The words poured in a frantic string from his lips.  “I don’t know what happened.  I didn’t even know who she was until morning.”

The words rolled off his tongue with the hope that she would understand how drunk he was.  If she knew that he wasn’t coherent enough to know what he was doing, perhaps she would forgive him. He wanted to make a go of this relationship, hating himself for making such a mess of it. 

“I was too drunk to walk straight so I had someone help me to my room.  I don’t remember anything after that.  I swear.  If I did anything to her, I don’t remember.”  His heart tried to pound its way out of his chest.

“You swear that you didn’t know it was Diane?”  Valerie lowered the blade to a less threatening angle.

“I swear it, Baby.”  Geoff stood on his knees, spreading his arms in surrender, hoping she would believe his sincerity.  He felt even worse that she knew it was Diane.  She worked his words over in her mind.  Her eyes softened and the hint of a smile touched her lips, inviting him to relax.

“No.”  Lightening crackled in Valerie’s eyes.  “I don’t share.”

Before Geoff could react, Valerie lunged at him blade first.  He panicked as he felt the blade slice along his ribs.  He threw himself backward through the partition.
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Geoff has trouble with many women, but he truly wants a real relationship Valerie, a relationship with one woman like his band-mate Ty Synclair has with his wife, Alexis. He's finding out that love can be difficult but will it be worth it in the end?

Geoff and Valerie meet in ShadowsForge 2: Trials on Tour and continue their relationship in ShadowsForge 3: Retaking America. Both are available at Whiskey Creek Press, along with the rest of the ShadowsForge Series.

I hope your love situation is more simple, more sincere, and less complicated than Geoff Richard's situation with Valerie and Diane. I hope that your Valentine's Day was everything you dreamed it would be... and more. I hope that you find love in the little things as well as the big things in life.

Cheers!
Jena

The Most Funny, Sexy Excerpt From Resort to Murder!

By Glenys O'Connell @GlenysOConnell

We're all about The Most here at the Roses of Prose this month. I like my romance and suspense seasoned with a bit  of humor, and banter between two lovers - or would-be lovers - can be very sexy indeed!

 

In Resort to Murder, Det. Ellie Fitzpatrick is becoming re-acquainted with her former lover, Detective Superintendent Liam Reilly, who's now her boss. Even though the relationshop broke up, Reilly's instincts to protect Ellie reignite when her home is broken into and searched. He spends the night outside her seaside cottage, keeping watch....and an early morning shower in Ellie's bathroom gives him the opportunity to bait the current man in Ellie's life, Brad, as well as teasing Ellie.....

 

Excerpt:

"So, again, what are you doing on my doorstep at...?" Ellie paused to peer at the kitchen clock, "Good God, Reilly, it's barely six o'clock!"

"Yeah, well, I have an early meeting in Leeds, and I need to use your shower," Reilly replied, as if dropping in on her for bathroom facilities was routine. He opened the cupboard doors, studying the contents, before shutting them in disgust. He repeated the process at the refrigerator. "Ellie, don't you have anything to eat in this place?"

She couldn't help but smile as memories returned of Reilly, heavy eyed from a night of passion, climbing back into their love-scented bed with tea and toast as morning light filled the room. "You never were much good without your tea and toast."

"There was a time you thought I was pretty good." His temper flared and she blushed. Giving her an evil look, he dropped two bags into the teapot; made a martyred sounding request that she make tea when the kettle boiled, and asked where she kept the towels.

Ellie, about to snap a vitriolic reply, suddenly realized that if Reilly was here so early, it probably meant he'd spent the night in his car. She almost burst out laughing, except that a tiny core deep inside her bloomed with sudden tenderness. He stood watch outside, in the cold, damp, sea-seasoned night, to make sure my intruder didn't return.

 A sensuous awareness snaked lazily from the pit of her stomach and Ellie swallowed on a suddenly dry mouth. Had she known he was there, so close, she would have felt so much safer, so much more secure. Would she have invited him in so that they could keep watch together? Ah, now, that would have been exposing herself to danger for sure. That hungry little quiver beat low in her stomach as her every nerve ending responded to feelings she'd thought had died of neglect. Regretfully, she pushed them away now. She'd need all her wits about her today – her first day back at work. Ellie had bigger fish to fry than Liam Reilly. 

Deep in thought, she poured hot water on the tea bags in the pot. A shadow fell across the thin net curtains and, startled, she sloshed boiling water onto the counter. It took her a moment to realize the shadow was Brad passing her kitchen window en route to the patio. She flicked the lock up and slid the door open to let him in.

"Must be my day for early visitors," she commented, sniffing the air appreciatively as she saw the small white bakery box in his hands.

"Thought I'd bring breakfast for us again– croissants fresh from the oven," Brad said, his arms going around her and drawing her to him as his mouth sought hers.

"Don't let me interrupt anything." Reilly sauntered out of Ellie's bathroom, obviously naked except for the bath towel wrapped precariously around his waist. He rubbed at his damp hair with the end of another towel draped around his neck, the movement causing the towel around his waist to slip ever more slowly downward. Mesmerized, she stared at the tiny drops of moisture clinging to the fine mat of hair on his chest, her eyes following them downward. Once upon a time she'd have licked away those tiny droplets and he'd have…Ellie shook herself back to the present.

Brad was staring, too, his face contorted with rage. Only Reilly seemed comfortable with the scenario as he took the bakery box from Brad's hand.

 "Uhmm, are those croissants? They smell wonderful," he said, casually helping himself to the pastries, then pouring a hot mug of tea, apparently oblivious to the way his presence had exploded into the room.

Ellie had time only to register the scene herself, noting with a little shock the puckered scar, a flash of glossy pink snaking in a livid line from his upper arm across to Liam's shoulder before Brad, white-faced with anger, asked, "What the hell's he doing here?"

"Brad, there's an explanation..." Ellie stammered.

 

Resort to Murder is published by The Wild Rose Press and available here or on Amazon here . Glenys O'Connell is working on a new contemporary romance, The No Sex Clause, and finishing edits on her soon to be released romantic suspense, Saving Maggie, coming December 31st from Crimson Romance