#Nurturing weeds

Pink Evening Primrose

milkweed

Daisy Fleabane

Black-Eyed Susan

Oxeye Daisy

Blue Cornflower

Loostrife or Lythrum

Flowers or weeds? I guess it is in the eye of the beholder. I admit that I let these untamable wildflowers grow in my garden despite the fact some gardeners consider them obnoxious, invasive, and undesirable weeds. 

I've been warned to dig them out by the root before they have a chance to, horror upon horror, take 'hold' and edge out more desirable specimens like roses and hydrangeas.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Not, of course, that there is anything wrong with roses and hydrangeas. Indeed, if you were to ask my favorite flower, I would say it is whatever is in bloom. 

 

Now, stick with me here as I go through a rather convoluted theory about how gardening can relate to writing. It came to me yesterday as I was working outside.

 

Imagine each flower as a person in your story. That each bloom is a character both unique or stereotypical. It's undeniable that plants possess their own strengths and weaknesses much as we do. Some are aggressive and try to take over the bed. Some are delicate and temperamental. Some are bold and some dainty. 

 

Others, like the hybridized rose, might create a gorgeous and showy splash of color but they've lost that original, deeply haunting, and sweet scent in the process. They put me in mind of the handsome or lovely character that is all surface charm with no inner substance.

 

Can't you see children or childish characters in the tiny daisy fleabane? Milkweed is maternal. Attracting butterflies like a magnet and essential to the Monarch's diet, milkweed is the comfortable, older woman. Sweetly pink or butter yellow Primrose is the secondary female lead. This character is usually the heroine's best friend. On the other hand, you have to see that purple lythrum is the male best friend. 

 

Or do plants radiate gender to you as they do me?

 

That's why I see the Black-eyed Susan or Oxeyed daisies as great heroines. They're plucky, fun, cute, and bright all at the same time. While the masculine blue cornflower is perfect as the hunky, strong, and brave hero.

 

Now, every grower knows they must nurture each plant to their individual needs of water and fertilizer. So must the author nourish the story. But beware. Suspenseful drum roll. No matter how well tended a garden, black-spot, spider mites, or root rot might invade at any moment. 

 

The thought makes me shiver just as much as when suspense drives the plot. 

 

Even among the flora, there are few bad flowers. Queen Anne's lace tops my list as an undesirable. I didn't realize I was allergic to the intricately woven bloom until the summer of snot. That was the year it grew along the fence line and my little sweeties lovingly brought me a stem or two each day. I, in turn, dutifully placed them in vases around the house. And sneezed my head off as my nose ran and ran and ran. 

 

It's embarrassing to say how long it took me to figure out the cause of my 'summer cold'. It goes to show that Queen Anne's lace is the epitome of a complex character. Pleasant and interesting to look at but hiding a sinister motive.

See? Everything you need for writing inspiration can be found in your garden. There are blooms that are lovely, sweet, spicy, pungent, bold, pastel, or shyly hidden among the foliage. I bet you can find an annual or perennial that uncannily resembles someone you know.

 

Nature even comes with bad guy-flowers - like Queen Anne's lace and goldenrod. These nasty little buggers sprout each spring looking like every other tiny green speck. It's how they hide out and go unnoticed as they shove their roots deep into the soil.

 

It's the same when you write. Hidden threats provide conflict and suspense. Fear and worry keeps the main characters moving along. 

 

To get back to these sinus inflaming plants that burst from the soil, a shoot of innocent green in a green sea. They are the evildoer hiding in plain sight. It isn't until the leaves uncurl or sets a bud that it becomes identifiable. Only then is the gardener able to spot and weed them out. Much as a writer grooms the plot, elaborating on a character's internal and external struggles. The main characters must recognize and accept the problem before it can be defeated.

 

And so it goes. A story line forms like a garden reveal. Characters struggle to find and keep their place in the world much as shade and sun seeking plants. They must guard against others that try to crowd or overtake them. Defend against rivals that would kill them by hogging the soil's nutrients. 

 

But, sometimes, even two vastly different plants manage to harmoniously exist side-by-side. These are the lovers coming together in an explosion of colors and complementing hues.

And this is the road my mind traveled as I dug and planted in the dirt. You might say, I spent too much time in the sun. I don't know.

Either way, I'll leave my thoughts on seeds for another time.

 

R.E.Mullins

author of paranormal romance

 

AMAZON 

THE WILD ROSE PRESS 

BARNES & NOBLE 

 

 

My latest work is a novella bridging the gap between the original Blautsaugers of Amber Heights series and my new Vampires of Amber Heights series. 

 During the Civil War, Union soldier, John Alden took a musket ball to the gut. As he gasped his final breath, he was turned into a vampire and started life anew in Amber Heights, Missouri. For over one hundred and fifty years, he's lived a rather solitary life as a vampire Enforcer.

Young single mother, Joann Clarkson, needs a job and fast. Hoping to be rehired, she returns to Dr. Michaela Blautsauger's lab prepared to eat a hefty helping of humble pie. She comes to regret that decision when she's taken hostage. Things look grim but she'll never stop fighting to escape. Her son needs his mama.
As an Enforcer, John must hunt down the vampire who kidnapped Joann. In his search, John winds up babysitting her toddler Cody. Changing diapers might be worse than getting staked, but nothing compares to how he feels when both mother and child fall into danger again.

 

The Blautsaugers of Amber Heights series. Each novel features a member of this vampire family as they deal with loving interference from family members, wacky members of the human community, danger, and their own personal hangups to find their soulmates.

Kindle Worlds novella, Vampire Girl: Back to Hell was a lot of fun to write. I hope you enjoy it.

 

Eli Grayheart, vampire demon, lesser Lord of Inferna was banished to the mortal realm. For a decade, he has been reduced to working the night shift for human employers and little pay. As he desperately seeks a way back to his homeland, he has plotted his revenge. The pink Fae, known as Keeda Weranseer is going to regret the part she played in his exile. Ever more graphic plans for revenge fuel his life, and, he swears, if it takes forever and a night he will find his way back to Hell.

 

Contact me, read a free Christmas short story, or see what I'm working on at:  remullins  

Or find me on: FACEBOOK

 

 

 

 

Getting Stuck with #Valentine’s Day by Christine DePetrillo

I always get stuck posting on Valentine’s Day and I don’t like Valentine’s Day. I’ve decided this year to treat you all to an excerpt of characters on their way to being in love instead of a rant on why I think Valentine’s Day is dumb. You’re welcome.

Enjoy.

From More Than Pancakes, Book One in The Maple Leaf Series, #FREE in ebook everywhere…

Rick pulled up a chair to the boxes of books Hope and Sage had left in the store by the display shelves. Poe took up residence on the floor beside him and sniffed all the corners of the closest box. He began loading the books on the shelves, turning some of the covers outward so customers could get a good look at them. He didn’t spend a lot of time in the store when customers were in there. He preferred a more behind the scenes involvement in the business and that was part of what had made him not so successful in New York. He liked dealing with the equipment, the actual trees, the land as well as the financial side. Running the business from the city had only allowed him to crunch the numbers and collect the profits. Maybe some folks liked that hands-off approach, but not Rick. He wanted to smell the melting winter, the blooming spring, and the boiling sap.

As he continued stacking books, Poe padded to the door and woofed once at it.

“No customers today, Poe. Not yet.” 

She barked again at the door and as she sat by it, a soft knock echoed in the store. Rick put down the books he had in his lap and limped to the nearest window. A Jeep he didn’t recognize was in front of the store along with footprints in the remaining patch of snow. The knock came again, but he couldn’t see who was at the door. He contemplated not answering as he often did when the phone rang, but figured it wouldn’t waste much time to explain the store wasn’t open yet.

He ambled to the door, resting his hand on the tables as he passed by without the cane. As he neared the door, another knock sounded.

“Okay, okay,” he said. “I’m coming.” He cursed his slowness and hoped he’d be rid of the cast soon. Not likely, judging by the ache, but a man could hope.

He reached the door and pulled it open. What was standing on the other side of it made him forget his own name.

A woman. Not much shorter than him with reddish-blond hair that brushed her shoulders and curled about a face meant for makeup commercials. Her skin had a wonderful glow he’d never seen on any native Vermonter, and her eyes were blue-green jewels. Slim, black jeans spanned down two long, shapely legs and disappeared into brown, knee-high leather boots that belonged on a runway not on his partly muddy, partly snowy doorstep. The rust-colored dress coat that hung to her thighs also seemed out of place in this setting, but not out of place on her. The woman was perfection in that coat, and the cream-colored scarf she had looped around her neck fascinated Rick.

Poe barked and the woman jumped. “Is that a coyote?” Her voice, soft yet assertive, matched her delicate mouth and intense eyes, but she looked as if she were ready to run for her vehicle.

“Yeah, but she won’t hurt you. She’s been raised to think she’s a big hamster.” What is this woman doing here? Then the pieces fell into place in his mind. “You’re one of Hope or Sage’s friends, right?” That had to be it, but he didn’t remember ever seeing this one. He didn’t think he could forget her if he had seen her. God, she was tall.

“No,” she said. “I don’t know Hope or Sage. I’m looking for whoever signed this.” She pulled an envelope out of her shoulder bag and rifled through it. While keeping a wary eye on Poe, she handed Rick one of the documents, and he scanned it quickly.

“You’re looking for me then.” Why did that make something in his stomach tighten?

“You’re the neighbor? You knew Gail Hinsdale?” A section of snow slid off the roof and landed in a pile about a foot away from the woman. She stumbled back and threw a glance all around her, almost dropping the envelope in the process.

“Come in,” Rick said, though he hadn’t remembered consciously deciding to invite her inside.

“Thank you.” She knocked the mud and snow off her boots and squeezed past him into the store. She smelled like grapefruit and coconut and sunshine. Like something far too exotic to be here with him. “Could you…” She motioned to Poe and made a shooing gesture with her gloved hand.

“Sure. C’mon, Poe.” Rick smacked his thigh and shuffled toward the kitchen behind the pastry case. He pushed open the door and guided Poe in. She whimpered on the other side when she realized he’d locked the door.

Poor girl. Rick felt like a big, fat meany.

“I appreciate that. Wild animals unsettle me.” The woman pulled off her leather gloves to reveal long, slim fingers with nails polished a deep crimson.

“She’s not wild,” Rick said. 

“Right. Tell that to her teeth.” The woman dropped the envelope on one of the tables and unlooped the scarf to expose a slender neck. She turned in a tight circle to survey the store. What was she thinking? She obviously came from a place where the stores didn’t look like his.

“You knew Gail Hinsdale?” She leveled her gaze on Rick, then flicked a glance down to his ankle. “Do you want to sit down?”

“I think I’m supposed to ask you that.” He indicated the chair across from the one he currently had a death grip on.

She slid the chair out and sat on it, but just on the edge, not like she meant to stay for any length of time. This saddened Rick, because for the first time in his life, he didn’t have the urge to get rid of company.

He eased onto the opposite chair, and the muscles in his entire body relaxed as the pressure was taken off his ankle. The woman noticed.

“What happened there?” She peeked under the table.

“Snowshoeing incident.” He shrugged, determined not to explain any further though the woman waited a moment as if he might. “How is Gail? I haven’t seen her in a little while.”

The woman’s lips twisted down at the corners, and Rick had this ridiculous urge to scoot over to her side of the table and… and do something.

“Gail died.” Those piercing blue-green eyes grew watery. “My grandmother is gone.”

“I’m so sorry,” Rick said. “She was real generous with allowing me to tap her trees. Nearly doubled my productivity.” He had reaped nothing but benefits from his arrangement with Gail Hinsdale. One of the smartest, healthiest business moves he’d ever made. 

“She left me the property.” The woman extended her hand. “I’m Lily Hinsdale.”

Taking her hand in his and noting how cold her fingers were, he said, “Rick Stannard.” He looked at the envelope again. “Are you thinking of moving to the property?”

At this, Lily let out a loud laugh. “Moving to Vermont? Are you serious? I don’t want to be here right now, never mind live here.” She brushed her hair out of her face with a shaky finger.

“What’s wrong with Vermont?” Rick asked. It was the perfect place as far as he was concerned.

“Umm, everything.” Lily stretched her magnificent legs out to the side of the table and peered down at her boots. Cringing, she knocked her heels together letting caked mud drop to the floor. “Vermont is no California.”

California, of course. That explained the tan and the fashion. And the disgust for mud.

“Vermont has a lot to offer.” Why did he feel the need to defend his fair state? Why did he want this woman to like Vermont?

“I’m sure, but I’m… high maintenance. Don’t have any real love for flannel or fleece. And don’t get me started about the woods.” She peeled off her coat revealing a fluffy brown sweater that ruffled at the collar and the wrists. Rick had never seen a sweater that fancy.

“The woods are the best part of Vermont,” he said.

“The woods are Hell.”

“I’ll bet I could change your mind about that.” Had he stepped out of his body? Who was this guy, talking to this woman, and actually picturing himself leading her on a hike in the thawing woods?

Lily regarded him for a silent moment, and for once, he didn’t like the quiet. What was she thinking? Probably that I’m the exact opposite of every guy she knows in California.

“No. I’m certain the woods and I don’t mix. Anyway, I’m here about the property, not to discuss the nonexistent finer points of this forgotten realm known as Vermont.” She brushed at her hair again, and the trembling in her hand was still there. Why was she so nervous? “I have a proposition for you.”

“Yes, I’ll buy the land from you.” He’d wanted to do that before Gail had constructed her fortress on the property, but he hadn’t had the money then. He had it now thanks to her letting him lease her maple trees and his barn-building business.

“Oh, umm, no. I don’t want to sell the property to you,” Lily said. “I want to sell it to another buyer and buy yours.”

Curious about Rick’s reaction to Lily’s proposition? Download MoreThan Pancakes, Book One in The Maple Leaf Series, for #FREE.    Amazon   Other Retailers  

If you like it, review it. If you don’t like it, read it again. I’m sure you missed something.

And Happy Valentine's Day... you know, if you're into such things. 

Toodles,

Chris 
www.christinedepetrillo.weebly.com 

New Kindle World Release by Donna Michaels

Hi, it's Donna Michaels and I'm excited to have another cowboy release in my Harland County series, but this time he's a Sable Hunter Hell Yeah Kindle World crossover!

It was such an honor to be asked by Sable to participate in her Kindle World and to be one of the launch authors! Creating another branch of my McCall tree to mingle with her McCoys was the icing on the cake! Her Hell Yeah Cowboy hit #1 in Western Kindle last week and currently sits at #3, plus it's at #2 in Western Kindle Worlds. :-) Thank you all for making it a best seller! And big hugs to those who've left reviews! <3

Years ago, he unknowingly rescued his soulmate, now she’s back in Texas and about to save his guarded heart.

Cover photo by Cover Me Photography with Orestis Papapetrou

https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B01K5YZJE2

Blurb:

Unlike his twin, Texas National Guardsman Sgt. Logan McCall would rather march barefoot and blindfolded through a cow pasture than date the same woman twice. After an active duty injury during a flood washed away his promising sports career and engagement years ago, Logan guards his heart more than his life until, fresh from deployment, he runs into a friend of the McCoys…literally. Hill Country’s newest resident is hotter than the wing sauce soaking into his shirt.

Mission on.

Graphic designer and carrier of misfortune, Chloe Davis is a danger to herself and those around her, so entertaining thoughts for the sexy cowboy wearing her hot sauce should be a no-no…not a hell yeah—especially considering he’s the guardsman linked to a horrible instance in her past. But when he turns out to be one of her clients, she can no more avoid him than the attraction sizzling between them. Chloe’s back in Texas determined to make a fresh start, and she succeeds in business but fails to resist the handsome soldier’s relentless pursuit.

But when he discovers her past, will he trust his heart or lose her forever?

Excerpt

“I’d like to know what kind of read you were getting from my brother that was so interesting, Cady.”

Ah, hell.

Logan swallowed his drink along with a few curses. He’d rather not know.

Her calm, steady, perceptive gaze settled over him again. “Today’s the day.”

Super. Whatever. He wasn’t biting. Just raised his glass and enjoyed another mouthful of beer. The ale was ice cold with just the right amount of malted barley and hint of bitter. Damn, it was good to be back in the states.

“The day for what?” Lincoln frowned. “What’s going to happen to Logan today?”

“With any luck, I’ll finally make it to my ranch. That’s what.” It was all he wanted. All he’d wanted for fucking months now.

“He’s going to meet up with his soulmate again,” she replied as if he hadn’t spoken.

It took a full twenty seconds before any of that sunk into Logan’s head. The word soulmate bounced around a few times, barely leaving room for the again part. He had a soulmate? Well, shit. That wasn’t good. Not the reading he expected. Or wanted to hear.

Besides, if he had a soulmate, and they’d supposedly already met, wouldn’t he have remembered her?

It didn’t matter.

No way was he going to touch that topic, especially since his family had a history with soulmates. His cousin Cole McCall reunited with his soulmate Jordan after over a decade apart. The two had been through hell but were now married and living a happily-ever-after they deserved down by the gulf in Harland County. The couple had this crazy connection you didn’t need your eyes to see. 

Weird shit.

Not something Logan wanted or ever pursued for himself since his failed engagement back when he gave a damn about relationships. Now he stuck with casual hookups. Nothing serious. It was cleaner. Easier. Safer. Believing in someone, trusting someone, only to have them crush you wasn’t worth the risk. He’d learned the hard way. Didn’t need to be beat over the head with it. Casual or not at all was his motto. The last thing he wanted was a soulmate.

The thing was, he believed in Cady and her abilities. So he did what any man in his position would do. He topped off his beer and enjoyed another healthy pull.

“Did you say soulmate?” Lincoln blinked at Cady, and when she nodded, his brother turned a shit-eating grin his way. “This I’ve got to see.”

Joseph smiled. “Me, too.”

Logan laughed. “Hate to disappoint you all, but look around.” He made a sweeping motion with his hand. “The place is practically empty, and the only woman here is Cady. Not a soulmate in sight.”

“She has big brown eyes that are going to melt that guarded heart of yours, Logan McCall,” Cady remarked leaning closer. “She’s near. Can’t you feel it?”

Feel it? What he was feeling was agitated. On edge. Restless. He had for some time now. But today he could add aggravated to that list. Cady’s dark, direct, Creole gaze, and the guys’ amused ones weren’t helping. Logan set his glass down and rose to his feet. “What I feel is the need to use the bathroom. Excuse me.”

The more distance he put between himself and the two chuckleheads at the table, the better he felt. And Logan was sure, once he was home, the weird restlessness—like he had unfinished business—would disappear. Hell, he just got off deployment. It was common to come back with baggage. This shit was normal. He’d deal with it.

What wasn’t normal was for him to run away. He didn’t really need to use the bathroom, but the urge to leave the table had been too strong to ignore. Cady knew. He could see it in her eyes and slight tug to her lips, but bless her, she didn’t call him out on it, just let him go without a word. Not only had his buddy married a smart, beautiful woman, she was sweet, too.

Going on the assumption the john was in the same place as before, Logan rounded the bar and—smacked into someone rushing down the corridor, all soft and curvy.

And hot?

He felt the heat right through his T-shirt. It scorched.

Inhaling on impact, he reached out to steady the distinctly feminine form, his mind registering a light, flowery scent, mixed with the mouthwatering aroma of…chicken wings?

“I’m so sorry. Are you okay? Did I burn you?” Her breathless voice had a sweet huskiness that spread awareness all the way down his spine.

What the hell?

He shook his head to clear it. “I’m fine,” he replied, staring at the mass of wavy brown hair obscuring the woman’s face as she tried to brush off the sauce that leaked onto him from the Styrofoam container she cradled in one hand.

“I’ve ruined your shirt.” She continued to try to clean him up but only made it worse. A second later, her palm stilled on his chest, and she drew her lower lip between her teeth.

“I’m fine,” he repeated, silently willing her to look at him.

With the initial shock of the collision wearing off, he realized the merit of the situation. Pressed against him was a soft, warm woman with an abundance of curves his body immediately wanted to get to know better. A little taller than average, she brushed his bottom lip with the top of her head, her riot of hair sticking to the chin he hadn’t shaved in two days. Logan wondered how their other body parts lined up, but most important, he wondered…what color eyes she had.

***********************

You can find all the books in Sable's Kindle World right here:

Sable Hunter's Hell Yeah Kindle World

Thanks for reading,

~Donna

www.donnamichaelsauthor.com

The Happily Ever After List by Mackenzie Crowne

As a young woman, I stood before the mirror in my childhood bedroom, admiring my oh-so-cool leg warmers and putting the finishing touches on my “big” hair. That brand new phenomenon, MTV, blared in the living room while I primped for nights on the town with my girlfriends, giddy at the idea of spending the night dancing like it was 1999. Ah, the music, the excitement…the boys! The possibility of that night being the night I would finally meet The One and live happily ever after! 

Mac & The One then...

But alas, time passes quickly. Mom jeans have replaced the leg warmers, and the hair, which is not so big anymore, would be liberally streaked with gray - if I didn’t beat it into submission once a month with a box of Nice-’n-Easy. As for happily ever after, yeah, I still believe in the concept. After all, I did eventually meet The One, and this Saturday we’ll be celebrating thirty-three years of wedded bliss.

Hah! Chances are those of you who have been married longer than the length of the honeymoon are raising an eyebrow at the word bliss, because let’s face it, bliss is hard to maintain when faced with the day-to-day realities of marriage. Honestly, is any woman blissful when picking up their One’s briefs from the bathroom floor? Or wiping his toothpaste splatter from the mirror? Yuck.

There have been many occasions in the past thirty-three years when I looked at The One and imagined myself as one of the Merry Murderesses from Broadway’s Chicago, declaring He ran into my knife. He ran into my knife ten times!

Yeah, I know. I’m weird. But I’m a writer. I can’t help imagining delicious scenarios I can never follow through on - unless I’m willing to do time. And if you’ve been married as long as The One and I have, admit it. You’ve imagined some of those scenarios yourself. So, what’s the secret to a successful marriage and happily ever after? There’s the popular list: Respect, give and take, communication, and commitment - but I have my own list. 

1. Know when to stand your ground.

2. Maintain your sense of humor.

And…

3. Develop the art of subtle revenge.

Mac & The One years later...

Okay, I don’t want to give you the wrong impression. Despite the Merry Murderesses reference, The One and I rarely disagree, much less fight. The One claims this is because we’re friends as well as lovers. I attribute the usual peacefulness of our relationship to my aversion to conflict. I hate fighting and avoid it whenever possible. But, The One is a guy, which means he occasionally does something so ridiculous, it simply can’t be ignored. When that happens, I survive the explosive fall out by sticking to my list. 

Case in point:

After accidentally dousing his sandwich with a heaping pile of pepper several years ago, The One promptly tossed the pepper shaker into the trash, announcing, “I’m sick of this f*%@ing thing!” 

Seriously, he threw away the pepper shaker. Who throws away a pepper shaker? I mean, come on. It’s an innocent, inanimate object. If you’re having a problem with it, it’s a pretty sure bet the trouble is user error. Besides, it’s part of a set!

#1: Know when to stand your ground.

“Well then,” I responded. “We don’t need this!”

Into the trash can went the salt shaker. Take that, buddy! I swear, his hair stood on end. He pinned me with narrowed eyes as he grabbed the first thing within reach. The tea kettle joined the innocent salt and pepper shakers in their absurd fate.

And, hello. Game on!

Dirty dishes and clean ones, silverware and counter top items, including a few small appliances, nothing escaped the whirlwind of angry passion gripping the blissfully married adversaries in our kitchen. Five minutes later, with a fine cloud of flour hanging in the air, sanity suddenly grabbed hold of me. Okay, the truth is, I came to my senses when I couldn’t fit anything more in the trash can.

#2: Maintain your sense of humor.

I glanced around at the carnage, but there was no way I could apply #2 at that moment. I was too ticked off. The man threw away a two-hundred-dollar blender, for heaven’s sake, and my kitchen looked like it had been ransacked! Because it had.

(I need to add an addendum to the list here: #2b: Know when to utilize a cooling off period.)

Sometimes getting away from your loving spouse is the only way to avoid doing time - with the added bonus of allowing you to regroup and come up with a workable plan for #3: Develop the art of subtle revenge.

I promptly went for a drive.

While I have my list, The One has his own. It consists of only two items. He believes in the power of persistence, and if that doesn’t work, he turns immediately to his own form of bribery. He’s such a guy. But I have to admit, he’s got skills when it comes to the suck-up gift - and he knows when to bring in reinforcements. The next morning, he enlisted our teenage boys in his ploy to charm me out of my mad. They disappeared for an hour and returned with a tiger striped kitten he claimed to have found foraging for food in a downtown parking lot.

Talk about a double whammy! I was toast and he knew it. But I ask you, how is a woman supposed to stay mad under those circumstances? It would take a much harder woman than me, that’s for sure. As we shared our morning coffee, his suck up gift lay curled up asleep in my lap.

“What are you going to name her?” he asked, looking far too smug for my liking.

I haven’t lived with the man all these years without knowing how to nip that kind of thing in the bud. I scratched at the kitten’s soft chin, smiled sweetly, and replied, “Pepper, of course.”

Oh, please. You didn’t think I was going to forget #2 and #3, did you?  

So here’s my happily ever after advice. Stand your ground. A good man loves a woman who knows her mind. Laugh with him as much as possible. It’s impossible to hold a grudge when you’re giggling. And learn the art of subtle revenge. You might just get a kitten out of it.

When Mac isn’t busy working on her own happily ever after, she spends her time weaving HEAs for her characters, like Gracie Gable, the heroine of To Win Her Love, book #1 of the Players series – on #SALE for $0.99 through this weekend in all formats at KensingtonBooks.

To win the game, they’ll have to risk losing their hearts…

When a bizarre child custody stipulation pits popular sports blogger Gracie Gable against football superstar Jake Malone, losing the battle for her twin nieces isn't the only thing Gracie has to worry about. Forced to live for three months under the same roof as the sexy tight end, will she fall prey to his flirtatious pursuit? Or worse, will the skeletons in her closet destroy her chance for the love and family she so desperately wants?

Neglected by his parents as a boy, Jake doesn’t believe in happily ever after. Yet living with Gracie and the twins might be enough to change his mind—and his womanizing ways. But when the press unearths a scandal from Gracie’s past, will he lose the one woman he was ready to open his heart to?

For more information on Mac's Players series, as well as her other titles, visit her at mackenziecrowne.com, Twitter or Facebook.