UPDATE: The winner is…Beverly!
*~*~*

I want to thank Delilah for giving me the opportunity to share about my new release, The Adventure of the Purloined Portrait, the fourth case in my Early Case Files of Sherlock Holmes series. It’s available for a special price ($2.99) for a limited time.

This series offers an origin story for Sherlock Holmes. The original tales had little about his past other than his father was named Siger, he had a brother named Mycroft, and his ancestors were country squires. He also tells Watson his grandmother was the sister of the French artist Vernet, which gave him “art in the blood.” As Sherlock matures through this series, he develops his skills as he solves mysteries at the family estate, London, and now France.

In The Adventure of the Purloined Portrait, the Holmes family travels to Paris to visit their French relatives along with some purpose known only to Sherlock’s mother. The true reason for the trip becomes apparent almost immediately when they witness a murder on their first night in the city. A carriage runs down the artist of a compromising sketch of Sherlock’s mother. The hunt to bring the killer to justice sends Sherlock into parts of the city off the beaten path and into danger.

In addition to a visit to the Louvre (after all, their ancestors had paintings hanging there), the evidence sends them to such sites as the Mont-de-Piété (now the Crédit Municipal de Paris), the state-run pawn shops; the Hôtel Drouot, an auction house; the headquarters of the Surete (the French equivalent of Scotland Yard); and Montmartre, a sleepy village on the outskirts of the city in 1868. As I completed my research for the book, I found myself longing to return to the city to actually visit the places I’d only read about in books or online. Even Montmartre, a place I’d visited before, now holds new meaning to me.

I’m giving away a $5 Apple or Amazon gift card (winner’s choice) to one randomly selected person leaving a comment. Let me know of your interest in Paris. Do you want to visit the City of Lights? What would be on your list of sites there? If you have visited the city, what did you enjoy the most?

The Adventure of the Purloined Portrait

A long-buried secret. A stolen portrait. The artist’s murder. Can Sherlock discover the connection between the three before he’s stopped permanently?

Sherlock can’t shake his apprehension about a family trip to Paris. His mother’s unflappable confidence vanished months ago, and her anxiety has set the whole family on edge. His greatest fears are realized when they witness the death of one of Mrs. Holmes’ former suitors.

As Sherlock seeks to unravel the reason behind the artist’s murder, he unearths a long-buried secret about his mother and survives several attempts to keep him from getting to the truth.

Can he bring a killer to justice before he’s buried with these hidden secrets forever?

Excerpt from The Adventure of the Purloined Portrait:

I stared over the ship’s railing and spoke to my brother Mycroft without glancing at him. “I feel this trip may be a mistake.”

I saw him turn toward me from the corner of my eye. “The crossing’s almost over. You’ll feel better when you get on dry land.”

“That’s not what I meant.” I glared at him. “Mother hasn’t been herself since Easter. Out of the blue, she announces we’re going to Paris while you’re still recovering from a gunshot wound. And she’d been distracted even before that.”

Mother had always been the family rock. I’d rarely seen her rattled, but even granite can break under pressure.

During our Easter holiday in London, she appeared preoccupied by matters she never explained to me or my brother. At the time, I’d put it down to concern over my father’s efforts to invest in a business venture with an old school chum as well as Mycroft’s wounding at the hands of our kidnappers. Both, however, were now behind us. The investment had produced a modest return, and I saw no lingering problems related to Mycroft’s injury. All the same, we’d barely arrived home from school before she’d packed our trunks and shuffled us all off to Newhaven for the steamship ride to Dieppe.

“I do believe bringing the entire family is a ruse,” he said after his own inspection of the sea.

“Including Uncle Ernest in the trip did surprise me.” Her brother rarely left the estate or his workshop. “Perhaps she thinks it will do him some good. They report being happy growing up there.”

He glanced at the smoke trailing the ship. “If she was so happy there, why doesn’t she show it?”

I ran through all the scenarios—from something as benign as a sudden bout of nostalgia to a fatal illness calling her back to see her French relatives one last time—and shook my head. “Without more information, I would only be speculating. You yourself have said that can be counterproductive. Whatever the reason, something has truly unnerved her.” I turned back to the ocean, seeking any indication of the coastline. “And whatever it is lies in Paris.”

Buy Links:
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B09RN27KPT
BN: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-adventure-of-the-purloined-portrait-liese-sherwood-fabre/1140803032
iBooks: https://books.apple.com/us/book/the-adventure-of-the-purloined-portrait/id1604426329
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/the-adventure-of-the-purloined-portrait
Other: books2read.com/u/mZZjzD

About the Author

Liese Sherwood-Fabre knew she was destined to write when she got an A+ in the second grade for her story about Dick, Jane, and Sally’s ruined picnic. After obtaining her PhD, she joined the federal government and worked and lived internationally for more than fifteen years. Returning to the states, she seriously pursued her writing career, garnering such awards as a finalist in RWA’s Golden Heart contest and a Pushcart Prize nomination. A recognized Sherlockian scholar, her essays have appeared in scion newsletters, the Baker Street Journal, and Canadian Holmes. She has recently turned this passion into an origin story series on Sherlock Holmes. The first book, The Adventure of the Murdered Midwife, was the CIBA Mystery and Mayhem 2020 winner.

Visit her at:
Website: https://www.liesesherwoodfabre.com
Twitter: https://twitter.com/lsfabre
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/liese.sherwoodfabre
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/liesesf
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5758587.Liese_Sherwood_Fabre
BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/liese-sherwood-fabre
Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/Liese-Sherwood-Fabre/e/B00810INE6

You can keep up with all upcoming events and books by signing up for her newsletter. When you do, you’ll get a FREE short story.
https://www.liesesherwoodfabre.com/contact.html#newsletter

UPDATE: The winners are…PansyRose Parsons and Debra Guyette!
*~*~*

Before I wrote bounty hunters, I wrote about vampires…

Knight in Transition

A member of an elite police unit sworn to hunt vampires, Joe Garcia’s life is turned upside down when he’s transformed into one. On a quest for a cure, Joe’s search brings him to New Orleans in a last-ditch effort to recover his humanity.

Professor Lily Carlson, a renowned expert in vampire lore, has a condition of her own. Her sexual libido has been in hyper-drive for months. Her only defense is to hide behind her glasses and tweed suits and stay as far away from men as possible. However, she’s thrilled to discover vampires really do exist when Joe shows up on her balcony.

Although Joe deflects her attempts to make him a case study and confirm a few vampire statistics, he is drawn by her powerful allure. When werewolves join the chase and track her through New Orleans, Joe’s cop instincts tell him there’s a mystery to solve. Intent on protecting her, he must seek help from the last vampire on Earth he wants to ask.

While his hopes for deliverance from his fate dwindle, Lily’s life is forever altered by an unexpected inheritance.

Get your copies here!
Night Fall Series

How it begins…

The small sign in the café window read: Welcome Vampires and Sanguinarians! (No blood products provided—none permitted on premises! The Management).

Joe Garcia snorted. Every human in the place was a walking, breathing blood product — a portable soda fountain for the Fanged Ones.

He pushed through the glass door and tried to dampen the hope that rose in his chest, causing his heart to beat faster and his hands to sweat. Thusfar, he’d met only disappointment in his long search. This might be just another dead end-the last one he could afford before his cash ran out and his credit card was maxed.

Professor Carlson was his last hope.

Inside the cafe, enticing aromas assailed him. The smell of roasted coffee beans, which had been his life’s blood in another existence, was overlaid with the tangy scent of the real thing-the warm, viscous red stuff. The latter reminded him he hadn’t fed this evening, and hunger gnawed at his belly, making him edgy and irritable.

And something else enticed him. Something dark and sensual perfumed by a female musk with a tincture so unique it immediately sent a curl of heat to his groin.

He walked past the coffee bar without acknowledging the barrista’s greeting and wound his way through the tables, ignoring the human appetizers. His gaze was fixed on a menu board at the entrance of a roped-off area in the back, that read, “Vampire Survey Here”. An arrow pointed down to a table laden with a stack of pamphlets.

He brushed past the table, searching the back of the restaurant for his quarry.
“Sir, are you here ’bout da survey Professor Carlson is conductin’?”

Joe turned toward the voice flavored with a deep Louisianan accent. A pleasant-faced girl with black corkscrew curls all around her head sat at a table near the cordoned entrance.

He bit back the rude retort that immediately came to mind and answered, “Yes. I need to speak with her.”

“Well, you’ll have to complete a screenin’ survey first,” she said pleasantly but firmly, holding up a stapled document.

Joe sighed and accepted the papers. What the hell? Five more minutes wouldn’t kill him.

“Do you have a pencil?” she asked. When he shook his head, she gave him a superior smile and extended a short, sharpened pencil.

Joe didn’t like her attitude one bit, so he reached for her hand, running his fingers over her palm before taking it.

Her smile slipped and Joe could well imagine her thoughts. Another vampire wannabe was hitting on her. He smiled and let her see his teeth.

Her eyes narrowed and a single brow rose. She wasn’t impressed.

That actually gave Joe hope he was in the right place after all. His sharp fangs hadn’t fazed her.

“You can take a seat with the other guy,” she said, indicating the first booth along the back wall.

Joe walked over and slid across the vinyl seat opposite a young man dressed in black leather and sporting no less than five facial piercings. The piercings glittered like tinsel in the dim light and Joe wondered how the kid could stand leather in May-New Orleans was already sweltering, even at night.

Turning over the top page of his survey, Joe quickly scanned the questions. He hoped like hell they were only meant to screen out the weirdoes and pretenders. Otherwise, he was screwed.

He wet the tip of his pencil on his tongue and read the first question.

“Do you consider yourself a Vampire or a Sanguinarian?”

Since he had no clue what a Sanguinarian was, he checked, “Vampire.”

“If you checked ‘Vampire’, skip to question 6.”

Maybe this wouldn’t take so long after all.

In the middle of the page, he found 6. “How often do you have the urge to drink blood?”

He checked the block beside, “More than three times a day.” Three times a night would be more accurate.

“How often do you drink blood?”

“Once a day.”

“Do you drink your own blood?”

“What would be the point?” he muttered, and checked “No.”

When he reached the question, “Do you drink blood during sexual encounters?”, he’d had enough.

He tossed the survey to the table and started to rise.

“She won’t see you unless you finish the survey,” Metal Boy said, without looking up from his form.

“She’ll see me.”

The young man’s mouth twisted into a sneer. “You’ll have to wait your turn. I was here first.”

Joe lifted his lips and showed him his fangs.

Metal Boy smirked and then lifted his lips, displaying a whole row of sharpened teeth.

Joe took a quick glance around the café to make sure no one was near, and then leaned over the table and shook his head. He let the change come over him, reveling for once in the wildness that surged in his veins as the bones in his forehead and brow shifted, and his skin stretched tightly.

The boy’s eyes widened until the whites symmetrically framed his irises. “I-I’ve just thought of somewhere else I need to be,” he said, and quickly scooted off the seat and ran for the exit.

Satisfied that vamping was good for at least scaring the shit out of punks, Joe took a deep breath and relaxed, feeling his face reform to his human mask. Then he headed back to the girl with the wild hair.

“I’ll see her now,” Joe said, not even trying to conceal his impatience.

“Have you finished dat survey?” she asked, her nose buried in her Cosmo magazine.

When he didn’t respond, she raised her eyes.

Something in his expression made her hesitate. “I’ll see if she’s free.”

Joe smiled grimly. “You do that.”

She was back in a moment. “Professor Carlson’ll see you now. You left your survey on the table, but I gave it to her.”

He followed her to the farthest corner of the café, toward another booth. A green lamp suspended over the table lent the corner a warm glow. When he drew alongside the green vinyl seat, the girl indicated he should sit and promptly left. Joe turned his gaze to the figure seated on the opposite bench.

His research had told him the professor was considered an expert in vampire lore. She’d written papers, magazine articles, and books, and even been consulted by more than one movie producer. When he’d typed “vampire expert” in the Internet search engine, her name had popped up everywhere.

All his research told him she might hold the answer, but it hadn’t said anything about how young or drinkable she was. Her hair was neither blonde nor brown, but the warm color of whiskey. Her eyes, hidden behind a pair of wire-framed glasses, glinted cognac. Her lips were a pale rosé.

The hunter within him woke.

Realizing he’d been staring, he cleared his throat. “You’re Professor Lily Carlson? The author of ‘Vampires: Myth and Reality’?”

Her gaze swept over him. An action so swift, he thought he might have imagined it. “And you are?” she asked, leaning over the table to extend her hand.

Joe froze. That indefinable scent was all over her. He had the urge to rub on her like a kitten in catnip. He eyed her small hand, afraid to touch it and feel the blood humming below the surface of her creamy, white skin. He was that close to jumping her. “I thought the survey was anonymous.”

“Oh, it is,” she replied quickly, withdrawing her hand. “You’re responding to the ad, then?” At his nod, she looked vaguely disappointed. “Well, I suppose I should review your answers. Please have a seat,” she said, waving him toward the bench seat opposite hers. “Thank you for taking the time to help me with my research.”

Bemused, Joe slid onto the seat. He knew he should get straight to the point, but he stalled. For just a few minutes, he wanted to be with a woman while she looked at him as if he was just like any other man. Well, perhaps like he was a man with a serious mental disorder. But at least, she wasn’t recoiling in horror or inspecting him like the Bearded Lady at a freak show.

Not that she was a great beauty, nor even as strong and fierce as his ex-partner Darcy. Dressed in a boring-beige suit, her whiskey-colored hair piled in a loose knot on top of her head, and her glasses sliding down her shiny nose, she looked like the schoolmarm she was. But while all the beige and brown should have made her look muddy, she glowed golden in the lamplight. And her scent—richly textured with something wild and animalistic—was extraordinary.

The woman opened his survey and glanced at his answers, then flipped the page. Her lips pursed for a moment, drawing his gaze to her full lower lip. “There are a few more questions I need answered. Do you mind if I learn a little more about you?” she asked, glancing up at him from beneath her gold-tipped lashes.

The surge of heat that centered in his groin was way out of proportion to her innocent question. Afraid he’d stutter over a tongue that suddenly felt too large for his mouth, he merely nodded.

“You understand the questions I’m about to ask you are part of a sociological study I’m conducting about our vampire subculture?”

Again, he nodded.

“All information you provide,” she recited as if from rote, “will be completely confidential. I hope you will answer me honestly,” she gave him a doubtful stare, “or to the best of your ability.”

She looked expectantly at him, so he nodded again.

Her gaze returned to his survey, and she cleared her throat. “You…are a vampire?”

“Yes.” This was the first time he’d admitted that fact out loud, and he knew how ridiculous it sounded.

“So, are you a Psy or a Sang?”

“There’s more than one kind?” Joe asked.

“A Psychic vampire feeds on a human’s energy; a Sanguinarian is a blood-drinker.”

“I guess I’m a Sang.”

“You drink blood once a day?” she asked, her head still bent over the paper.

He shrugged, hoping she’d glance up at him again so he could see whether her eyes really were a warm, golden-brown. “More or less.”

She scribbled something in the margin of his survey. “Well, which is it?”

“Sometimes more.”

“Do you drink human blood?”

Joe wished she’d end this line of questioning, or he’d be drooling shortly. Her scent had every appetite revving into high gear. “Yes.”

She glanced up from the survey. “How long have you had the urge to drink blood?”

“Since I woke up, tonight.”

She blinked. “No, I meant…since ever.”

ALL THE NIGHT FALL BOOKS!

Click image to get your copy!

Contest

Answer this for a chance to win your choice from among my many Night Fall titles!

What was the last paranormal story you read?

UPDATE: The winner is…Mary McCoy!
*~*~*

I like the hope that is embodied in MONDAY.

I said that out loud like an affirmation, expecting inspiration to flow.

Nope, nada. It’s freaking Monday, and I have a sh*t-ton of work to accomplish this week. That’s all I got.

How about you? Do you love or detest Mondays?
Answer for a chance to a $5 Amazon gift card!

Open Contests

1. A little bit of this, a little bit of that… (Contest) — Win a FREE book!
2. Flashback: Heart of a SEAL (Contest–2 Winners!) — Win a FREE book!
3. Saturday’s Puzzle-Contest! —  Win an Amazon gift card!

UPDATE: The winner is…Delaine!
*~*~*

Today’s forecast was for thundershowers. The weather guy wasn’t wrong. We already had a two-hour power outage this morning due to lightning/rain/hail. No hail in our yard, so we lucked out. I’m still waiting for April to warm up. Most years, I take my first dip in the pool in mid to late April, but we haven’t had enough warm, clear weather for us to even clean the pool properly!

We’ll get there. In the meantime, I’ve been tackling indoor projects, along with editing projects and trying to get some words written on my own story. It’s been tough. I don’t have a lot of git-up-n-go lately. Today, I’ll try to fool my body into believing better days are here by showering (always important) and then getting into a pair of shorts. Maybe I’ll do some light makeup, too. Then I’ll smile at myself in the mirror and repeat some inane aspirational saying, or… Maybe I’ll get out the sage and burn it while I imagine all the dark, lazifying (it’s a word—I just made it up) thoughts fleeing to the corners. Yeah. I like that last idea.

In the meantime, here’s something fun for you to do!

Solve the puzzle then let me know how your April is going for a chance to win a $5 Amazon gift card!

UPDATE: The winners are…Athena and Miki!
*~*~*

Before there were bounty hunters, there were SEALs. And I loved writing my Uncharted SEALs series. All those rugged, alpha heroes and strong heroines. Humor. Action. Spicy sex. All the ingredients that make stories fun for me to write, and hopefully, fun for you to read.

With Uncharted SEALs, I experimented a bit. For the first time, I did sequels with the same characters—for the simple reason I couldn’t say goodbye to them. I wanted to see inside their Happy-Ever-Afters. Through Her Eyes and Between a SEAL and a Hard Place share the same main characters, as do Dream of Me and Heart of a SEAL. Big Sky SEAL gave birth to my Montana Bounty Hunters, introducing Jamie and Reaper, who as a result of their work in Big Sky earned their own satellite office of MBH. A fun theme I used in two of the stories was a cruise ship. Both Before We Kiss and Hard SEAL to Love are set on the same ship and have the same supporting characters. Plus, Hard SEAL to Love features a disabled female vet!

This time, I’d like you to read the EXPLOSIVE opening scene of Heart of a SEAL. This story is shorter than most of the Uncharted stories, but I figured it was more of a revisiting with the characters, so readers might enjoy a slice of what happens in the happy-ever-after for Sam and Ash.

Enjoy!

   

   

  

Click on the covers to learn more!

Contest

Win your choice of one of my Uncharted SEALs stories! There will be 2 winners! All you have to do to enter is answer me this…

Do you like the idea of romances featuring married couples?

Heart of a SEAL

Aislinn Blalock is the lone survivor of the extraction team sent to rescue hostages in Cambodia from the vicious criminal gang holding them for ransom. After her helicopter crashes, she has to stay one step ahead of them to stay alive long enough for a rescue team to get to her.

Ash’s husband Sam watches the mission go sideways on a computer monitor, sidelined by management because one of the team happens to be his wife—but now, there’s no way in hell he’s sitting this one out. He’s getting to Ash before the armed gang can cause her any harm. He’ll risk everything to save the woman who holds his heart.

Excerpt from Heart of a SEAL…

What a difference six months made. Aislin Blalock lay in tall grass beside a withered rice paddy, staring up at a clear, starlit sky. A billion pinpricks of light scattered across a dark canvas. No moon, thank God. Beautiful, really. But the distant stars only deepened her sense of unreality. In the distance, she heard metallic creaks and groans, as well as the crackle of fire. She had yet to move, afraid adrenaline was giving her brain the wrong signals, masking the fact she’d been hurt. She had, after all, just fallen from the sky.

Six months ago, she would never have imagined she’d be here in Cambodia in December, participating in a mission to rescue wealthy tourists who’d been kidnapped for the fat ransom their families would pay. She’d been a cop, still suffering the loss of her boyfriend and partner during a robbery. Just met the man who would drag her out of hell and show her love was still possible. That guilt didn’t have to consume her. That she had the right—and the duty—to survive and find happiness. No longer did she drink herself into oblivion for the chance to dream of Marc and pretend he wasn’t gone. Now, she had Sam.

Sam…

Ash drew a deeper, sharper breath.  He hadn’t been happy about her being pulled from her training with Charter to be part of this team, but the company had wanted a woman along, and she was one of the first female operatives they’d hired. He’d been supportive of her decision to apply for a position with his company as a field operative. Naively, she’d believed that being part of Charter, rather than remaining with the New Orleans Police Department, would mean they’d see each other more often. And she’d needed a change. A new job. New home. Without constant reminders of what she’d lost or the time she’d nearly lost herself grieving after Marc’s death. When Charter had tapped her for this mission, she hadn’t hesitated.

Two of the hostages were nuns—not wealthy tourists like the rest. And Charter had decided she’d make the women more comfortable during the rescue and transit. But her team never made it to the drop zone, a click from the kidnapper’s jungle encampment. Although they’d flown well below radar, someone had alerted the well-organized, well-funded group holding the hostages.

Her helicopter had been in the lead. She’d already shuffled toward the open door, ready to drop down a rope when they’d been hit. She’d had a split second to react. Thought she’d heard a voice in her ear, telling her to jump. Marc’s voice, but that had to have been a dream. Her subconscious prodding her to take that leap of faith.

Her landing had been cushioned by deep, soft vegetation. She’d landed on her feet. Sort of. Her bottom making contact a split-second later. Even if she’d suffered a break or a spinal cord injury she couldn’t yet feel, she was far better off than the men who’d been aboard her helicopter. She’d had time to jump from the left door when the right side of the helo sustained a direct hit from an RPG. The rest of her team, whom she’d met only two weeks before, hadn’t been so lucky.

She drew deep, ragged breaths. Lungs expanded. No hitch, so her ribs were likely fine. Inside her combat boots, she wiggled her toes and felt them scrape hard leather. Time to move. But she was still afraid. After a few wasted moments, at last, she rolled to her right and came up on her knees. Everything appeared to be working, but maybe she’d sustained internal injuries. Gingerly, she dropped her pack and unlatched the cover, feeling inside for her headset. Her hands closed around thin bands. She donned her headset then the night vision goggles, set her mike beside her mouth, and tapped ON, using the team’s call sign to identify herself. All actions were performed by rote, because if she’d had to think, she would have frozen. “Do you read me?”

“Jesus, fuck!”

She almost smiled at hearing Sam’s break with protocol. But his curses, so harsh in her ear, relaxed her. For the moment, she felt his reassuring presence.

“We see one heat signature a distance from the helo. That you, babe?”

“Yes. I don’t think anyone else made it out.”

“The second helo just crossed back into Viet Nam.”

Which meant she was alone. If anything had gone awry with the mission, the pilots had been ordered to return to Charter’s base camp. She swallowed hard to still the panic rising in her throat.

“Are you hurt?”

She heard the soft note of hesitation in his voice. Knew he was bracing for the worst. Not sure, yet. “No,” she said, more firmly than she felt.

“Fuck. More heat signatures. Nine of them. Coming from the West.”

Her stomach clamped. Men from the kidnapper’s encampment. “Roger,” she said, her voice clipped. She knew what she had to do. Run.

“Head northeast. You’ll be in deep jungle. It’ll give you cover.”

She checked the illuminated dial of her wrist compass, took her direction, and pushed up into a crouch. As quickly and as quietly as she could, she streaked toward the tree line.

Okay, so no one’s sick, but the 13-year-old is going in for another surgery tomorrow. We made a hotel reservation for her and mom in the big city so they won’t have to drive through hail and tornadoes in the early hours tomorrow. So, that’s one thing less to worry about. I’ll be taking care of (ordering around!) the other kids while she’s gone, so my afternoon and evening will be blown. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.

And since I’m scurrying through today’s To Do list because it just got longer, here’s a puzzle! Have fun with it! Yes, it’s topical! Tornadic, even. And if you saw the red truck in the tornado on social media, you will understand why this grabbed my attention—and why we popped for a room for my dd! And be sure to enter the contests that are still open! The list is below!

Open Contests

1. Tell me a story… (Contest) — Win an Amazon gift card!
2. Flashback: A Boys Behaving Badly Anthology (Contest–3 Winners!) — Win a FREE book! 3  winners!
3. Fill in the blank! (Puzzle-Contest) — Win an Amazon gift card!
4. Diana Cosby: Exciting UPDATE about Diana Cosby’s – Romance Reader’s Help Build A Habitat For Humanity House!!! (Contest) — Win a SIGNED book!
5. A little bit of this, a little bit of that… (Contest) — Win a FREE book!

UPDATE: The winner is…Stacey Kinzebach!
*~*~*

I’m late posting. It happens. I’m part of a large family sharing a single house. Thank goodness it’s large enough we all have our own space! However, we pitch in to keep everything going—from housework to yardwork to…appointments.

That last was what had me late today. My SIL is a cop, and he’s working nights this month, so we have to keep our eight dogs quiet until early afternoon. My dd took the 13-year-old for a COVID test before her Wednesday surgery, which was over an hour away, so after I helped get the other kids off to school, I sat upstairs with the dogs all around me to keep them from barking. Why so many dogs? My mom and dad had four when they both passed and my dd had five, so when we combined houses to live together, well… One dog has since passed, and because we believe in forever homes, it will be FOREVER before we have a reasonable number of dogs. I didn’t even mention our four (it was five until a couple of months ago!) cats because they are ghosts and no problem at all. The horse and the three goats live in the pasture, so no problem there either. 🙂

Anyways, we’re getting ready for days of storms. It’s raining now. We expect thunderstorms. On Wednesday, we could very well see large hail and tornadoes added to the mix. The power flipped off last night for about an hour. That was just a precursor. So, we’re making sure we have the right provisions on hand in case we lose power for longer than that.

I’m charging up my laptop and making sure the files are all updated with the latest versions—in case I have to switch to it to keep working. We have a generator to keep our fridge going. When we need it, we unplug that, make coffee, and charge our devices. We live in the country, so we know how to do this.

So, it’s only Monday. What’s your week look like? For a chance to win a FREE download from my backlist of books, let me know!