Sunday, April 18, 2021

How about a little taste of "Deal with a Devil?"


 


Hello all!

If you're following my author page on Facebook or if you've friended me on my personal page, you know I've been working the past year on a NEW novel that is a continuation of my Rock Harbor Chronicles series.  I'm so excited to tell you that "Deal with a Devil" is only a tiny bit behind schedule at this point and WILL be released EARLY Summer 2021! 

Since we're in the throes of final edits (a back cover development, which is the WORST!) I thought I'd share a tiny little snippet of the book.  I'm doing this in part to give my readers something to be excited about, but also to prove to my family that I'm not just ignoring them when I go into my office and put on the headphones!)  So...dear blog readers...you are the FIRST (other than my critique partner and proofer/beta reader) to see this bit of the book. Enjoy!




Leo looked up from heaving a forty-pound bag of ice into the cooler. Jenna and C.C. walk in. He gave them a quick wave, and in doing so, managed to dump several ice cubes on the floor behind the bar.

“Dude, would you stop gawking at that lumberjack chick and pay attention to what you’re doing?” Mack barked. “I don’t feel like falling on my ass just because you have a thing for manly girls.”

Leo flushed, and glanced quickly at Jenna and C.C. He hoped they couldn’t hear Mack’s rant. “Listen, Mack,” he growled in a low voice. “Lay off the rude comments about women, especially that one.”

“Look who’s suddenly sensitive about how we talk about women!” Mack frowned. “Since when are you so in touch with your inner feminist? I’ve heard you say things about women that makes me look like a freakin’ still life of chivalry.”

Leo arched an eyebrow. “What does that even mean? ‘Still life of chivalry,’ that makes no sense.”

“You make no sense.”

“You’re an idiot.” Leo knelt to clean up the ice.

“I’m not the one makin’ eyes at Sasquatch.”

Leo’s hands tightened into fists. “Watch it.”

“Come on man. Open your eyes. She’s got the shoulders of a professional wrestler, but not a hot one, more like Hulk Hogan.”

Leo stood, squared his shoulders and raised his chin looking Mack in the eye. “Close your mouth or lose teeth.”

“Whoa, calm down. I’m kidding.” Mack glanced at Jenna. “I wasn’t trying to turn this into a throwdown. I would like to point out the smoke show that walked in behind the wall that is the woman you love.”

Leo blinked and stepped away from Mack to get a better view of where Jenna and C.C. sat. There, next to Jenna, was a woman he’d didn’t recognize. And that must be the long-awaited Mikayla.

Mack stared at the woman. “Do I have to treat her with respect, too, or can I keep thinking about everything I want to do with her?”

Leo was going to slap Mack down with a sharp retort, but instead he paused and studied Mikayla. She sat at an angle, her mile-long legs crossed and pointed in his direction. Every angle on her was geometric, sharp, and sleek; with not a hint of softness or weakness. With her shoulders squared and her chin up, she looked like she owned the room. This was a woman who owned men more than loved them.

He knew the type too well.

Leo grinned. “Sorry, Mack, I’m calling dibs.” He stretched his arms in front of him, and cracked his knuckles. “Watch and learn.”

“Yeah, I knew that whole nice guy thing was an act.”

“Oh, I’ll be nice, buddy. You can have her when I’m done.” Leo patted Mack’s chest, closed the ice cooler, and walked to the table. “Hello ladies.” He gave Jenna a warm smile and didn’t miss her blush.

“Hi, Leo,” C.C. responded in a more low-key tone than usual.

“Hey kid, you okay?”

 “My dad doesn’t want me. Plus, I have to go to school here and not at home with my real friends.”

Leo didn’t miss the weary expression on Jenna’s face.

“Oh…kay. We can talk about that later. How about if you introduce me to your friend?”

“Oh, right,” Jenna said with a noticeable lack of enthusiasm. “Mikayla, this is Leo. He’s my…he’s working with Shara. Leo, this is my cousin, Mikayla.”

Hm. “He’s my…” That’s a sentence I’d like Jenna to finish.

Leo turned his attention to Mikayla. “Good to meet you.” He put his hand out to shake hers. Mikayla jumped up and kissed both his cheeks and his lips, and laughed as she stepped back. Leo watched as Jenna’s expression sagged. “You’re not from around here, so I gotta tell you something.” He kept his eyes on Jenna. “Probably a good idea not to kiss guys you’ve just met. That’s how nasty rumors get started.”

“Who says I don’t want to start some rumors?” Mikayla’s voice was breathy. “But aren’t you adorable to care? N’est-il pas délicieux?

Leo shot a quizzical look at C.C., who shrugged.

“I’m so happy to meet you. It’s a cold, cold night, and I’m a lonely girl.” Mikayla bit her lip and batted her eyes.

Her antics were so over the top, Leo wanted to laugh, but he sensed any attempt on his part to make nice with the cousin would further Jenna’s downward spiral. She already looked ready to cry. “I work here, so, I can’t join you,” he said to Mikayla, who rewarded him with a fake pout. Fake. Fake airs, fake face, and the French is a big old layer of fake. “I’m a bar back.”

“Is that an important job?”

Leo wanted to plug his ears. Mikayla’s high-pitched, infantile tone set his teeth on edge. “I lift stuff.” He glanced at C.C. who seemed to be mirroring Jenna’s dour demeanor, but with more conviction. “Hey, kid, why don’t you and I see if the cook is making the burgers right?”

Obediently, but will little joy, C.C. followed him to the kitchen. As they passed Mack, Leo nodded. “All yours, buddy.”

“Too hot for you, huh?” Mack grinned; his perfectly bleached teeth gleamed in the bar’s low light.

They’re perfect for each other.

Once in the kitchen, he hoisted C.C. on a prep table and looked her in the eye. “Okay, what gives?”

“What gives what?”

“Let’s start with your bad attitude. I saw the new room Jenna did for you. It’s cool.”

“Is it?”

“Well, I mean, it’s a little girlie for me, but I think for a young lady like yourself, with an interest in the color of pink, it’s great.”

“Yeah, fine, it’s cool. But it means I live here. And I have to go to school here, which means I won’t ever see Thor and Thorina again.”

“Well, I’m sure…wait, Thor and Thorina?”

“Yeah, only my best friends in the world.”

“Are they twins?”

“No.”

“Weird parents?”

“Uncle Benny can fit four giant cinnamon rolls in his mouth at one time and Aunt Cat dies her hair bright colors depending on what the special coffee flavor of the day is, but I don’t think that’s weird.”

“You’re right. They sound perfectly normal.” Like I would ever know what perfectly normal looks like. “Anyway, I don’t think that means your dad doesn’t want you anymore. Maybe he thinks living with Jenna in a different place would be good for your education, you know? I mean, Rock Harbor is really different from Nashville. Think of the new stuff you might learn about, like farming. Then, when you go back, you’ll be smarter than the rest of your class.”

C.C. cocked her head to one side, reminding Leo a bit too much of a puppy he’d had when he was eight. She blinked and smiled weakly. “You’re trying to make me feel better.”

“Is it working?”

“Maybe. Can you and I still hang out?”

“Only if you answer this: what is the deal with Mikayla?”

C.C.’s eyes lit up. “I know! She’s all ‘blah, blah blah’ with French. Do you know what she’s saying?”

“No idea.”

C.C. giggled. “Oh man! You should have seen Jenna before.”

“Why, what happened?”

“She cursed big time!”

Leo grinned. “Jenna doesn’t swear.”

            C.C. shook her head, her raven dark pony tail swinging. “Today she did!”

            Leo leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Okay, little sister, spill. What made your big sis blow her top?”

            “Frou-Frou. Frou-Frou pooped on the floor in the kitchen. Jenna didn’t see it and when she came out of her room all prettied up for tonight-”

            “Why, what’s tonight?”

            C.C. punched her tiny fist into his shoulder. “She was coming out to see you, goofy. Also, I think she’s trying to be like Mikayla which is…ew.” C.C. shuddered.

            “Yes. Very-ew.” Leo agreed. “Who is Frou-Frou?”

            “Oh, that’s Mikayla’s rat.”

            “She has a rat?”

            C.C. nodded. “I mean, she says it’s a dog, and he definitely poops like a dog, I watched him do it. But he’s too tiny to be a dog.”

            “What does he look like?”

            “He looks like a rat. Like a cute fluffy rat. I like him. But not Jenna. She stepped in that poop and then she used all the words Dad tells the hockey players not to use when I’m at the rink.”

            “So, Mikayla brought a dog.”

            “Leo, it’s not a dog. It’s a tiny toy baby puppy thing that’s too cute-but I’m pretty sure it’s some kind of rat. Jenna wanted to put him outside, but Mikayla said the vultures and the bears would eat him.”

            Leo grinned. “I can’t wait to meet this dog.” He hoisted C.C. off the prep table. “Time for you to go back to your table and for me to go back to work.”

            “Hey, Leo?”

            “Yeah?”

“What’s the deal with the kissing?”

“Kissing?”

“Mikayla kisses everyone on both cheeks. But she kissed you on the mouth.” C.C. paused and frowned. “Was it disgusting?”

“Did it look disgusting?”

C.C. giggled. “It looked dumb. Was it gross?”

Leo smiled. “Well, for a guy like me, kissing is rarely ever gross.” He lowered his voice conspiratorially. “But it wasn’t great.”

“Not like kissing Jenna would be, I bet.”

Not like kissing Jenna. Leo blinked. “What makes you think-”

“I keep telling you, I’m not some dumb kid. I see how Jenna blushes when you talk to her. I see your dumb smile when she walks in. Why don’t you two date, fall in love, get married, and maybe I can live with you guys in a real family.”

“You’ve got it all planned out, don’t you?”

“Well, I mean, if I have to live here, it would be nice to live with a family. A kid needs structure.”

“Yeah, and a kid needs to go order her dinner. If you don’t hustle out there, I bet Mikayla will try and order you a salad instead of a cheeseburger.”

“No way!”

“Oh, she’s definitely the salad type. Look at her.” Leo and C.C. peeked around the corner at the table. “Yep, she is one hundred percent a salad person. And you just know she’s telling your sister that Brussel sprouts are better for you than French Fries.”

“Dave doesn’t have Brussel sprouts, does he?”

“He got a shipment in yesterday. We’ve got a ton of the leafy, green little balls all set to be boiled and sent to your table!” Leo laughed.

“Gross!” C.C. walked back to the table, but in much higher spirits than she had been.

Jenna looked up from the menu and caught Leo’s eye. She smiled gratefully, which made him feel like he’d done something good. See, I am a nice guy. Leo Morrison is a nice guy.

Then Leo watched Mack check his breath before walking to the table. He felt like he’d also done something terrible, although he couldn’t decide if it was to Mack or Mikayla.


Friday, April 16, 2021

My WHAT is sputtering?

 




Happy Friday all!


Today's blog deals with women's issues, especially menopause, iron and anemia, and doctor's appointments. I write blogs like this to comfort, educate, and amuse my fellow women.  If we talk about this stuff, it won't be as foreign.  If we laugh at it, it won't be as scary.


For those of you who are NOT adult women, be warned:  there is some icky female medical stuff ahead.  I don't want any of you stopping me at church or the library or someplace you might see me and say, "Well now I can't get that image out of my head!




This week has been all about the doctor's office.  Three trips to the same building in three days.  I definitely live a special kind of life.  #donthatemebecauseimawesome.


The first appointment was for my bi-annual "pop your feet in the stirrups and scooch" good time with my GYN.  Now that I'm done having babies and I'm past the half century mark in age, they really do not care about what's going on down there all that much. It's all about the upstairs girls now.  But, every so often they need to take a peak and make sure, especially now that I'm in that super fun perimenopause portion of my life, that nothing weird or alien is happening.  


As it turns out, I was well past the whole "bi-annual" peppy pap schedule.  Sure, they've been mining for all sorts of other nonsense in my womb without a view over the last five years, much of which was because my iron levels are so ridiculously low, they thought I might have a bloodsucking creature of some kind hiding in my baby space.  So my GYN, who is precisely half my age and one third my weight, sat down and, while conversing about other things as if my lady bits weren't hanging right there in front of her face, she poked and scraped and got her testing material. Then she said something that made me laugh too hard for a woman in that delicate position.

She said, "Now, when you see the test results before I do, and you will, if there's anything that seems abnormal, don't freak out."

Don't freak out.  She said that. To me. About medical test results.

Did I mention I'm currently rewatching "House?" 


Not my GYN. MY Gyn is scary by accident.


Well I mentioned it to her.  And she said, "Yeah, they see a lot of zebras on that show, don't they?"

Referring, of course, to the thing my husband says to me all the time, "When you hear hoofbeats, think horses, not zebras."

Except, we live in a very zebra filled world over here at the Bradley place. So...


Anyway apparently some new law has decided that we the people need to see our test results BEFORE the doctors who tested us.  Like seeing our grade on a math quiz before the math teacher gives us the grade. It  makes no sense. Why would anyone want that?  I want a nice, neat letter, like I used to get:  Dear Sarah...everything's normal.  Thanks. See you in two years."


But no, now I sit here and check my online health profile and wait. And wait.  I haven't seen those test results.  And since I now know I'm getting them first, I have to wonder what's going on.  So, guess what?  I'm FREAKING OUT!


The second appointment was no biggie. Labs over at the cancer center. And before my readers freak out, let me explain. My anemia/iron problems are a blood issue. Apparently ALL blood doctors are cancer doctors.  Hence and ergo, when I go get my blood drawn to check my iron, it's all at the cancer center side of the clinic.  (Which, BTW, is WAY better run than the normal people's clinic downstairs in the same building. That's the circus show there all they do all day is decorate for holidays and yell people's private medical info across the room.)  I don't mind going for blood draws at the cancer center. The folks are nice, efficient, I rarely have to wait and the needle stick doesn't hurt at all.


Finally, the third appointment.  Seeing my blood doctor to go over my test results of the blood draw.  

Not my blood doctor, but I wish he could be!


My blood doctor sort of seems like what would happen if Howard from "Big Bang Theory" and Skippy's BFF's brother melded DNA.  He's like this super chirpy nerdy guy with really, really thick hair. I adore him because he takes the time to talk to me like a person. I suppose cancer doctors have to do that.  Sure, his scales weigh me heavier than any other on the planet and his blood pressure machine measures mine roughly ten points higher than any other place, but other than that, I really don't mind going to his office. Dr. "Blood" and I have spent the last two years searching for the source of my low iron/ low energy issues.  Those discussions have led us down some serious rabbit holes, but none so fun as the one yesterday.

I told him I'd been to my GYN and we again discussed my monthly punctuation.  I was actually managing the iron I got from an infusion back in June pretty well, and Dr. Blood was confused because he expected that me being me, my iron levels would be in the basement.  Then we talked about my recent punctuations (and the previous lack thereof). We discussed flow and cramps and frequency and everything and we laughed because we both have a pretty irreverent sense of humor and my guess is he doesn't get a lot of laughs in his line of work.

We talked about my diet and how I'm trying to eat iron rich foods since we already know I don't absorb iron supplements at all.  As it turns out, I don't absorb iron from my food either.  So, hey, why am I even bothering with veggies?


Anyway, so Dr. Blood and I were chatting about my punctuation and then he says this:


"I think you're managing your iron better because your ovaries are sputtering."



Howard just told me my ovaries are sputtering.


 And, after three trips in three days to the same building and having my temperature taken 3 days in a row and being asked if I'd traveled out of the country 3x, this is my takeaway:

1)  Don't read my GYN test results no matter what because clearly they're trying to freak me out.

2) My iron levels aren't normal, but they're not on the floor either, which is remarkable for me.

3) I don't have to eat veggies because there's no point.

4)  I'm old enough to have sputtering ovaries.


So there you have it! Enjoy your weekend and try not to picture sputtering ovaries. Especially don't picture mine!  LOL



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