Surviving Valentine’s Day: Pauline Parril’s Advice for Married Women
by Pauline Daley-Parril
Valentine’s Day hashtags are proliferating on Twitter. That means one thing: #valentinesdayiscoming. For single women, the 14th of February is tough enough when it’s #nodate and #aloneagain. But for married women, Valentine’s Day is a #minefield #forgetaboutit #norosesforyousister #fml. For women in general, Valentine’s Day is like trying on a new bikini: single girls hope to find something nice that handles the girls effectively but all too often end up with lingering regrets and maybe a yeast infection from the previous person who tried the bathing suit. All that married women can hope for is that the top half can still work the old black magic while the bottom half still fits the base. Meanwhile, the average man is completely oblivious to the whole #chocolates #romance and #finedining thing. That’s because he hasn’t set foot in a shop since the day before Christmas when he did his annual shopping trip. Only women know that, just minutes after New Year’s Day is over, every store and mall in the country turns into a raging river of pink and red hearts with fur-trimmed bralettes on display in every window. It’s not enough to avoid the flood of lacey crap at the mall. You better stay away from the drugstores too. Trouble is, you forgot to get your flu shot last fall, didn’t you? Now you need lozenges for the bug that is shredding up all the real estate in your throat. In you go, determined to make it past the heart-shaped candies and roses-made-of-chocolate aisle. You quickly skirt the section with the wide selection of ribbed condoms, cherry-flavored lubricants and estrogen massage cream. But, suddenly, you’re confronted by the greeting card aisle. Love is in the air. And it’s sucking all the oxygen from the store. You pause to look at all the pretty, pretty cards. Maybe it’s a good idea to inject a little romance into your plodding relationship and get your man a special valentine? You pick up a card with a pink satin bow. It says: “You are my forever best friend.” But, last time you checked, your husband wasn’t a Golden Retriever. The card with the velvet trim says, without the tiniest trace of irony: “Every moment I spend with you is a dream.” Every last card is festooned with curvy fonts, cupids, roses, arrows and hearts. As if you weren’t feeling sick enough with the flu before. The sad fact is there are no realistic cards for wives to give to husbands. Clearly, companies need to offer cards with more truthful messages, such as: My darling, you deserve the best of me. (Sorry I called you a moron yesterday. The stupid of you got the better of me.) Or: You can be my Valentine, but only if you stop being a prick. For newer brides, the card could read: Be mine. (Unless you cheat on me. In that case, I will cut you.) Or: Let’s get married all over again! (Without your drunk cousins this time.) Together forever. (Unless you screw it up.) Middle-aged marrieds have even more options: Loving you is my mission. It’s right up there with gaining control of the remote someday. You are still hot to me. Mostly. (I’m still sleeping in my socks tonight because your feet are freaking blocks of ice.) You make me smile. (To be honest, sometimes I smirk. Sometimes, it’s an evil grin. And sometimes I laugh hysterically. You say tomato …) For older marrieds, the card could say: I can’t believe I’m still putting up with your shit. But, wonder of wonders, I am! Nothing can compare with you! Dude, you could win a snoring contest. Together, we are stronger. Especially when we fart at the same time. Never mind. Skip the card aisle. You have a bad head cold. It’s February for goodness’ sake. Your man doesn’t want a card anyway. He’d prefer a roughly hand-drawn coupon for an anytime, anywhere blowjob-on-demand. Buy yourself some chocolate and don’t forget the cough syrup.
###
Collette Yvonne graduated from York University in Toronto with an Honor’s BA in Creative Writing. Her short stories, including From the Cottage Porch and Wild Words 2010, appear in several anthologies. She's written numerous articles in national Canadian publications, plus over 150 pieces for various Ontario newspapers. Her short story, Snapshots for Henry, was made into a short film, directed by Teresa Hannigan, and received a 2007 Genie nomination for Best Live Action Short Drama.
Pauline Parril is a survival expert. For ex-army veteran Pauline Parril, life marches along in orderly formation now that she is happily married, raising three children, and ascending a promising career ladder. But the handles of her safe and comfortable world soon turn upside down when a termination letter lands on her lap and her once-loving husband Donald grows suspiciously distant. Complications further arise when Pauline returns to school and meets Michael Fortune—the handsome and exciting poetry professor who threatens to get out of hand.
Pauline once endured a long deployment to a war-torn country halfway around the world, but can she survive the front lines of her fraying household? Find out how she does it in The Perils of Pauline, an uproarious tale à la Bridget Jones of an intrepid every-woman stepping through the challenges of rebuilding her life while learning that there's actually more to discover about herself than she ever dreamed possible.
Cowboy Delight Cheryl Brooks Publisher: Sourcebooks Casablanca Release Date February 3, 2015 Genre: Western Erotica Romance Novella Book Description: Getting stranded has never felt so good... Lauren Allen is on her way to meet her future in-laws when her car breaks down on a scorching, dusty Texas highway. There's no shortage of handsome cowboys turning up to save the day, but she puts her trust in local rancher Steve Williams. From the moment she shakes his hand, his warm, calloused grip makes her hotter than she knows what to do with... Excerpt In the next instant, a bolt of lightning struck mere inches from the passenger side door, immediately followed by a clap of thunder that shook not only my brains but the entire truck. With a yelp, I braced my feet on my suitcase and pivoted away from the door, an action that landed me squarely in Steve’s embrace with his sharp exhale enticingly warm on the back of my neck. Fear quickly gave way to embarrassment. Muttering an apology, I tried to scoot away, but the tightening of his arms stopped me. He wasn’t exactly preventing me from getting off his lap, but I got the distinct impression he didn’t want me to. “Lauren,” he whispered. “Sit still for a minute. Please.” His voice was husky and his breath tickled my ear, sending a rush of tingles all the way to my toes. I tucked my legs up under the blanket and leaned against him. Although rain continued to pound the roof, the hail was already diminishing in size. Another flash of lightning lit up the sky, followed by thunder and a loud, cracking noise that, thankfully, seemed farther away this time. “Warmer now?” In the wake of nearly being struck by lightning, I hadn’t given much thought to the cold, but I was no longer the least bit chilly. With the blanket covering most of my body and Steve wrapped around the rest, I felt downright cozy. “I’m fine, thanks.” I turned slightly, intending only to glance up at him with a smile, but what I saw in his eyes held me like a chain. The heat within the circle of his arms escalated as his embrace went from protective to intimate in a heartbeat. Shifting his hold on me, he leaned closer, caressing my cheek with his fingertips. With that gentle touch, fire surged through every erogenous zone I possessed. My lips parted seemingly of their own accord, and as he closed the distance, my eyelids fluttered shut. As his lips touched mine, my body melted into a pool of liquid desire. I couldn’t even raise my arms. Never before had a kiss left me so powerless and yielding yet keenly aware of my surroundings—the softness of his lips, his hands on my skin, his hot tongue delving deeply into the recesses of my mouth. I was even aware that the rain was letting up. In the relative silence, I could hear my own sighs as well as his quiet groan as he slid a hand under my knees and tucked my legs behind him. Laying me down across the seat, he tossed his hat aside and a moment later I had about a hundred and eighty pounds of cowboy, boots and all, stretched out on top of me, kissing me like I’d never been kissed before. My arms regained enough strength to curl them around his neck. No doubt seeing that move as encouragement, he parted my thighs with a nudge of his knee and pressed himself between them. Any resistance I might’ve felt fled as I wrapped my legs around him and pulled him against my aching pussy. He was as hard as I was wet, his erection grinding into my flesh in a way that left no doubt as to where this was headed—or at least, where he wanted it to go. On the fringe of my awareness came the roar of an approaching semi. The storm had passed on, leaving the highway free for the flow of traffic to resume. Not that it mattered… Steve froze in mid-kiss and popped up off me so fast the sudden decompression of my chest left me gasping for air. “Holy shit!” he exclaimed.
About the Author Cheryl Brooks is a former critical care nurse turned romance writer. Her Cat Star Chronicles series includes Slave, Warrior, Rogue, Outcast, Fugitive, Hero, Virgin, Stud, Wildcat, and Rebel. Look for her Cowboy Heaven series, beginning this February. She is a member of the RWA and IRWA and lives with her husband and sons near Bloomfield, Indiana.
No and yes. No, in the
sense that I write romance novels. I see myself as a romance writer, but I kind
of vacillate between suspense and comedy.
If yes which is your favorite genre to write? I don’t
really have one, actually. I enjoy
writing about the more violent sides of human interaction as much as I do the
ridiculous.
Do you title the book first or wait until after it’s
complete?
I generally don’t title a work until I’ve finished the rough draft.
If you looked on my computer, you’d see files called ‘Book 4’ or ‘Bk7 Take 2’,
incredibly generic things like that. I don’t want to jinx myself by having a
super cool title and then not finish the book (which has happened a hundred
pages into the work), or not have the book live up to the title. Call it one thing
and then have it be about something else.
Is the book, characters, or any scenes based on a true life
experience, someone you know, or events in your own life?
I love dropping the
people in my life into my fictional worlds, though always with permission. I
don’t know why, but I get a little bit of perverse pleasure from it. Josh,
Ellie’s best friend in The Ex File, is based on a real person in my life, as
well as Dane, the firefighter. Also, since the story is set in my hometown, the
reader will get a local’s view of Indy, at least parts of it.
What book are you reading now?
Right now I’m reading City of
Toys by Lindy Hudis and enjoying it greatly.
What books are in your to read pile?
This pile keeps
growing! It’s a neverending thing. My TBR is currently populated with Michelle
Clay’s series, A Little Sex and Magic, as well as the last two in Ranae Rose’s
Lock and Key series, Officer in Pursuit and Officer Out of Uniform.
What is your current “work in progress” or upcoming
projects?
I just finished a novella called No Such Thing, which is a
contemporary take on a regency romance with comedy running through its core.
Next up for publication, however, is the follow up to The Ex File, Dead and
Disorderly, which is a semi-paranormal romance involving a sexy detective the
reader meets in The Ex File.
Can you share a little of your current work with us?
Of
course! Here’s a snippet:
“Joshua,” she used his full name to convey the importance of the
situation, “I need to see you. Now.”
“Eleanor Rose. Do you have any idea what time it is?” he hissed,
letting her know he was still in bed with whatever-his-name-is-today.
“Really? Both names?” She stared at her phone even though she
was on the earpiece. The only people to call her that had been her foster
parents, and even that was only when she had been in serious trouble. “It’s
9:30 on a Sunday morning. Look, kick whomever he is out of bed, I’m coming
over. ETA less than ten.”
“I’m on my day off and he’s a firefighter, dammit!” He sounded
desperate after she gave him the timetable. She heard shuffling and thumping in
the background, as well as muffled voices.
“One whom I’m sure you can pencil back into your busy schedule.”
She loved Josh, truly, but his was a revolving door of unbelievably pretty men.
She’d be jealous if they weren’t all gay.
Some things just couldn’t be helped. “I need your help, Josh, I
wouldn’t be calling if I didn’t.”
“Fine!” In her mind, the words went with him throwing up his
hands in frustration. “I’ll see you in a few.”
Josh’s house was a cute little tan two-story on a cul-du-sac
with meticulous landscaping and a hot tub out back. It would have looked silly,
sliding sideways into a driveway in a hybrid Ford, but she was tempted, so
tempted. She parked like a normal person, however, and was out of the car and
up the walkway just in time to be on the receiving end of the hairiest of hairy
eyeballs from Mr. Firefighter, quite possibly the biggest man she’d ever seen.
Short blond hair, t-shirt thrown around his neck and emphasizing his massive shoulders,
which really went with the massive and perfectly-sculpted rest of him.
She could see why Josh wanted to keep him around for an
afternoon romp. He looked like he could carry her, her fictitious dog and three
pieces of furniture out of a burning building. At the same time. A touch of
guilt flared, but she shoved it down. She didn’t like the time either, but
damn, this was an emergency. Capital E.
Josh flung open the front door for her and stood there, also
shirtless, with his arms crossed. “Oh, by all means, come on in.” If he didn’t
look so pissed, she’d have admired his well-chiseled form. The way it was, she
supposed she should consider herself lucky that he’d deigned to wear pants.
“Can I get you something? A drink? A snack? A definition of the word
‘emergency’, perhaps?”
His sarcasm fell on deaf ears as she strode into his house and
deposited her purse on the kitchen table as she wilted into the nearest chair.
“This definitely qualifies, but I’m sorry for interrupting your morning.” It
was obvious from the smells of bacon and coffee that his morning had been very
differently planned from how it was playing out.
He waved off her apology as he prepared plates of waffles and
sundry. When he finally came to the table, he had one arm loaded up with plates
and silverware in the other hand like the most practiced of waiters, even
though he hadn’t done that in a few years since joining the police department.
“Here, eat something so I’m less tempted to choke you.”
She laughed and dug into the plate in front of her, “You’re
always so cranky before you get your caffeine.” His response was a grunt,
either of agreement or menace, she didn’t know, but the bacon was perfect, and
that was all she cared about. He nudged the syrup in her direction with his
elbow, but she shook her head. “No thanks, I prefer them naked.”
He snorted as he sipped his coffee. “As do I, and yet, here you
are. So are you going to tell me why you made me roust the hottest firefighter
in the city or are you going to make me guess?”
Ellie chased the last bite of waffle around her plate with her
fork while she rested her chin on her palm. She didn’t want to look him in the
eye, because while she hadn’t gotten to ashamed yet, it had been several miles
since she’d seen proud. “It starts at the party last night.”
“How’s that possible? I saw you right after you got there.”
“Well, not quite right after,” she hedged with a cringe. “See, I
walked in and everybody was there, and you know I don’t do crowds well. So I
ordered up a couple shots, you know, just some liquid social graces. Well,
while I’m waiting for my shots, he shows up. We talk for a little bit, and then
he goes, and then I see you. After that, I go over to talk to Tommy and
Meredith, and then he comes back and says, ‘Why don’t we go to my place and
drink some more?’ So I do. I mean, I haven’t seen him in a while, we’ve got
some things to catch up on, whatever. Then we’re at his place, drinking rum,
hanging out with his dog, then we’re kissing, and—”
“What in the entire hell are you on about? And who is this ‘he’
you keep mentioning?” From the look on his face, it appeared she’d lost him
after the first couple sentences.
Hell, this was going badly. Usually her friend was swifter on the
uptake. “Did you happen to notice anyone interesting at the party last night?”
Josh graced her with a pitying look before slowly sliding into a
predatory grin. “Oh sweetie, you know I did. I’m just asking you to be more
specific.”
“About six, six-one, shoulder length black hair—”
“Oh,” he said as his eyebrows shot up with understanding, “that
type of ‘anyone’.”
As she replayed the evening in her mind, she found herself
getting grumpy again, despite the waffles and bacon. “Yeah, that type of
anyone.”
“Well, that explains why I didn’t see you again last night.” He
sat back in his chair, pondering over sips of coffee until he sat up all at
once and slammed the mug down on the table.“Wait, wait, wait. You went home
with Sean. You spent the night with Sean. The Sean you haven’t seen in three
years.”
“Yeah, and it was awesome, actually. Very cathartic for both of
us. We talked for a while, kissed—”
“Had hot monkey sex on every available flat surface…” Josh
interjected.
She wrinkled her nose at him in annoyance. “Yeah, that too, but
after we talked.”
“And you told him?” He took a sip of his coffee and grimaced
when he found it to be cold.
She shrugged like she was trying to physically avoid the
question. “Why I left? Kind of.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Either you did or you didn’t.”
Ellie pushed her plate away. “I told him I left so he didn’t
have to choose. I figured that was enough of the story without getting all the
way into the whys and wherefores.”
“And he obviously accepted that, for now.”
“He did.” At least, it had seemed so at the time. Her memory was
somewhat fuzzy and still floating in the rum.
“So?” Josh opened his arms wide. “What’s the problem? Why are
you here? Why are we not both enjoying breakfasts with our respective
conquests?”
“It’s not that simple.” She stood and began to pace behind the
chair. “See, I slept over, which is not my usual MO, and then his phone started
ringing.”
Josh looked like he’d been slapped. “Before you called me? I
take back almost everything I said about your manners.”
“Hush! Anyway, I kinda woke up, and I kinda heard him talking to
someone about his ex-wife, and now they’re getting together this afternoon.”
Do you have to travel much to do research for your books?
I
don’t have to travel, but I do
absolutely love to travel, and the wanderlust tends to fuel my work.
Bulletproof Princess (coming August 8th, 2015) takes place in Vegas and the
high desert south of the Navajo Nation, so when I had the opportunity to go to
Las Vegas, I absolutely took notes on sensory input and tiny tidbits I noticed,
and the desert is a lot like my church, a part of my soul. Also, oddly enough, the books that
I’ve queued up to put out this year and next were all plotted out while on
trips (Girls Week!) in various and sundry US locales, such as Savannah, GA,
Tuscon, AZ, and Albuquerque, NM.
Who designed the cover of your latest book?
My extra awesome
book cover was the brainchild of Laura Hidalgo of BookFabulous Designs. I knew
it was perfect for the story the moment I clapped eyes on it.
Do you have a song or playlist (book soundtrack) that you
think represents this book?
I have playlists broken down by book and scene. I know how
obsessive that is, but it’s how my brain feels the story.
The Ex File Playlist
Don’t Look Any Further-Dennis Edwards
Yellow Moon-The Neville Brothers
Lover, You Should Have Come Over-Jeff Buckley
In Your Eyes-Jeffrey Gaines
Only Love-Ben Howard
Come Over-Kenny Chesney
Kiss Me Slowly-Parachute
Nothing Left to Lose-Mat Kearney
Samson-Regina Spektor
I Will Follow You Into the Dark-Death Cab for Cutie
You Give Me Something-James Morrison
The Ex File
Behind the Blue Line Series
Book 1
Alexis D Craig
Genre: Erotic Suspense, Police Procedural, Hot Romance
Publisher: Hot Ink Press
Date of Publication: 2/7/2015
ISBN:
ASIN:
Number of pages: 148
Word Count: 59,931
Cover Artist: Laura Hidalgo of BookFabulous Designs
Book Description:
Second Chances Can Be Lethal
Narcotics Officer, Sean O’Leary is bitter after a messy divorce that has reinforced his solitary nature, leaving him only with his dog and a sword collection. He could never imagine that his former best friend may be the only woman to bring happiness into his lonely life.
Ellie Gardner knows loss; especially after she was banished from her best friend/crush's life by his jealous wife. Although the regret of walking away from the love of her life still stung, a chance encounter with Sean may change everything.
When Ellie and Sean reconnect, they could never expect it'd be in such an explosive way, leaving them both to gain the fulfillment of their 'what if's.
Finding love is hard enough without the past breathing down their necks, especially when said past has no intention of letting go. When Sean's ex, Pia Mastriani returns, Ellie must face her nemesis' relentless tactics to get Sean back, including eliminating Ellie if necessary.
Sean and Ellie’s relationship is put to the test but will they fare well while they go rummaging through The Ex File?
Alexis is a writer with a couple of day jobs. Working for two different police agencies, it's a juggling act to find time to write.
She is also an aunt, godmother, avid cyclist, serial hobbyist, ghost hunter, and collector of stray animals. Her husband is a loving, patient man.
The author of Imminent Danger, Undercover Seduction, and Give Me Shelter with Lachesis Press, and she has three more novels coming out in 2015, The Ex File on February 7th, Dead and Disorderly on May 23rd, and Bulletproof Princess on August 8th from Hot Ink Press.
If one barbarian is lethal, two are even more dangerous...in bed.
Earther Skye Jones arrives to rescue her friend from a barbarian kidnapping knowing she’ll be throwing away her chances of a dream job on planet Ussed. With her skills, she doesn’t anticipate being captured by a group of sexy soldiers. Or that she’ll fall for their charismatic squad leader. Then, as if that’s not bad enough, Skye is brought to their encampment to meet their clan leader—a hulking warrior who sets her blood afire.
When the mating instinct takes over, Skye finds herself with not one, but two bed partners. But is her life meant to be lived among the uncivilized? Before Skye can decide who and what she wants, the choice is taken out of her hands by an enemy clan. And if she’s not careful, she’ll lose a lot more than a stubborn heart.
About the Author:
Caffeine addict, boy referee, and romance aficionado, New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Marie Harte has over 100 books published with more constantly on the way. She’s a confessed bibliophile and devotee of action movies. Whether hiking in Central Oregon, biking around town, or hanging at the local tea shop, she’s constantly plotting to give everyone a happily ever after. Visit http://marieharte.com and fall in love.
When I write, I need quiet. I find that
listening to music distracts me; I tend to concentrate on the words of the song
instead of the words on my computer screen. But there are songs that help
inspire my work, and help me to tell my story.
This is exactly what ONE MORE SECOND CHANCE
is about; living in a small town, where “everybody knows me, and I know them.” But
Alex Campbell is from a big city. Can he learn to appreciate small town life?
Would there be enough in Lobster Cove – career-wise, culturally, socially – to
entice him to stay?
Okay, so I know the name of the town is
Lobster Cove and not Fogerty’s Cove, but Stan Rogers is one of my all-time
favorite singers, and this song gives me that down-east vibe. “The Mary Ellen
Carter” is the name of a ship that sinks off the east coast, but is brought to
the surface again by the crew that loved her. The song is full of hope. Stan
sings of never losing hope “whether you’ve lost a , a love, a friend. Be like the Mary Ellen
Carter and rise again.” Julia should listen to this song. She lost hope of ever
finding another love after her marriage fell apart.
P.S. Please excuse the quality of these two
videos. Actually, they’re not really videos; Stan Rogers died in 1983, long
before there was a YouTube. Sadly, he perished in a fire on an airplane.
Julia married her high school love. He was
her first love, and the first man she made love with. When he left her, she was
devastated. The song says “I would have given you all of my heart, but there’s
someone who’s torn it apart.” Julia doesn’t believe she can ever love again,
and even if she could, she’s afraid to try. She desperately protects her heart
from pain, and pushes Alex away.
Alex isn’t easily dissuaded. Even though
Julia pushes him away, he tells he’s not the kind that walks away when
something, or someone, is important to him. He’s in it for the long haul.
Finally, Julia believes again. And she’s
read to love.
One More Second Chance
Lobster Cove Series
The Wild Rose Press
Jana Richards
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Date of Publication: February 6, 2015
ISBN:
ASIN:
Number of pages: 331
Word Count: 82,083 words
Cover Artist: Tina Lynn Stout
Book Description:
Dr. Alex Campbell has an agenda—finish his contract to provide medical services in Maine, pay off his medical school debt, and head back to his real life in San Diego. But when he meets Julia, all his carefully laid plans are put in jeopardy.
Julia Stewart, Lobster Cove’s high school principal, swears she’ll never let another man drag her away from the home she loves. Her aging parents need her, and the Cove is where she wants to raise her daughter. When her mother’s illness brings her and the big city doctor closer together, panic sets in. Her marriage taught her men don’t stay.
Can she put aside the heartaches of the past and trust Alex enough to accept the love he’s offering?
Or will her fear of abandonment mean she’ll send him away forever?
“A spiral fracture
of the right arm.” He paused for a moment and took a deep breath as if trying
to control his emotions. “I’ve seen this kind of injury before. A fracture like
this can be the result of a fall, but it can also be an indication of child
abuse. An arm as small as Ava’s will break like a twig if it’s twisted hard
enough. I’m obligated to contact the authorities if I suspect abuse.”
Julia stared at
him in mute shock, her brain struggling to process his words, as if trying to
translate some unintelligible language. The words child abuse rang in her ears.
Finally she found her voice.
“You think
someone deliberately hurt her?”
“Her injuries
are consistent with abuse.”
“I don’t give a
damn what they’re consistent with. Ava has not been mistreated. My mother said
she fell down the stairs, and if that’s what she said, then that’s what
happened.”
“I believe
there’s more to the story than a simple fall.”
“If it comes
down to believing you or believing my mother, I’m going with my mother.”
“Perhaps you
don’t know your mother as well as you think you do.”
Julia sucked in
a breath and stared into Dr. Campbell’s dark, accusing eyes. The idea that her
mother would hurt Ava was ridiculous. She adored Ava, would do anything for
her…
She blinked and
looked away, remembering an incident the other day. She’d heard her yelling at
Ava about the milk she’d spilled on the kitchen floor, making such a huge deal
of it that Ava had cried. It had struck her as strange, since she couldn’t
remember her mother yelling at anyone, ever. She wasn’t as patient as she used
to be. And how did she explain her strange phone call telling her Ava had been
hurt? Of course she’d been upset, but her mother had been nearly incoherent
with distress. Was something going on she wasn’t aware of? She was seventy-one
now. Maybe looking after a rambunctious five-year-old was too much for her.
No. She shook
her head to reject the disloyal thought. Dr. Campbell was the one who was
wrong.
“I know my
mother. She didn’t do this. It was an accident.”
“We’ll soon find
out. Sharon is questioning Ava now.”
Julia stared at
the door. “She’ll be scared, all by herself.”
“Sharon’s very
good at what she does. She has a way of making kids feel comfortable.”
Julia turned on
him, the anger and despair she’d been holding inside spilling out. “And you? Do
you enjoy upsetting five-year-olds and turning families’ lives upside down?
Does it make you feel powerful to sic the authorities on us?”
“Look, Mrs.
Stewart, I take no pleasure in bringing in the authorities. But I’ve seen child
abuse, up close and personal, and I can tell you it’s damn ugly. The things
parents and caregivers are capable of doing to defenseless children…”
He stopped
abruptly, his chest heaving. Closing his eyes, he averted his face and took a
deep breath. When he turned back to her, his steely control was back in place.
“So yeah, if I have even the smallest suspicion that a child has been abused,
I’m going to ask questions. And I’m not going to apologize for it.”
About the Author:
When Jana Richards read her first romance novel, she immediately knew two things: she had to commit the stories running through her head to paper, and they had to end with a happily ever after. She also knew she’d found what she was meant to do. Since then she’s never met a romance genre she didn’t like. She writes contemporary romance, romantic suspense, and historical romance set in World War Two, in lengths ranging from short story to full length novel.
Just for fun, she throws in generous helpings of humor, and the occasional dash of the paranormal. Her paranormal romantic suspense “Seeing Things” was a 2008 EPPIE finalist.
In her life away from writing, Jana is an accountant/admin assistant, a mother to two grown daughters, and a wife to her husband Warren. She enjoys golf, yoga, movies, concerts, travel and reading, not necessarily in that order. She and her husband live in Winnipeg, Canada with their Pug/Terrier cross Lou and several unnamed goldfish.
She loves to hear from readers and can be reached through her website at www.janarichards.com
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