Flat Tire (Short Story)

May13

This was the second flat tire in two weeks on my new Saturn. Ugh! At least it was a nice fall day, not raining, or winter with it being 30 below. It didn’t help that today I had chosen to wear a long narrow skirt. That made it doubly difficult trying to get down to the ground and get that jack in “oh, so right” position so as not to pop the tin can metal on the rest of the car. At least the flat was on the passenger side, away from the traffic whizzing by on the highway.

I tried one more time and couldn’t seem to find that spot for the jack. I finally threw it down in frustration and pushed myself up off my knees to a standing position. My cream colored skirt now had nice brown circles on it where my knees had been pressing the material into the dirt. I brushed at it with my hands only to find that somehow they had black grease on them. The whole mess smeared across the fabric. Lovely. The skirt was new too. There was no way that was going to come clean.

I took out my cell phone to call the office to canceled my next appointment. If I could get this flat changed quickly enough, maybe I would have time to run home and change my clothes. I shook my head. Only thing clean right now was my favorite pair of jeans. Thankfully, I had no more important meetings for the rest of the day so that would have to do. Catherine answered when I called.

“Where are you? Anne is hopping mad that you are not here right now. She wanted to go over your report before the meeting.”

“I got a flat and I’m stuck on the highway. I need to cancel. Can you call Mr. Ramsey for me to reschedule?”

“And what am I to tell Anne?”

“Tell her the truth. I’m stranded with a flat tire.”

“Do you think she’s going to buy that line? Didn’t you just have one two weeks ago?”

I raise my eyes to the sky to watch the clouds slowly travel overhead as I bite my lip to keep from crying in frustration. “Yes. This did happen two weeks ago and it cost me $78 for a new tire to replace the one that shredded on me.”

“I thought this was a new car.”

“It is.”

“I’ll let Anne know but I can bet she’s not going to be happy about this.”

“Thanks, Catherine. Believe me, I would rather be in the office then sitting here on the side of the road stranded.”

“What? Can’t change your own tire?” Catherine’s voice mocked me.

I sighed. “I am doing my best. Later.” I clicked end on the cell phone and leaned my rear against the side of the car and close my eyes. Really Lord, why do these things keep happening to me? I need this job. I had heard the unspoken threat that had been in the secretary’s voice. My job was in jeopardy.

I took a deep breath and knowing my skirt was destined for the dumpster, I knelt back down and brought myself to lay by the flat tire to look under the car for that exact sweet spot for my jack. I got it positioned when I saw boots approaching. Cowboy boots and dress pants? I tried to rise but smacked my head on the bottom of the car.

“Ouch. That had to hurt.” A familiar male voice spoke.

I lifted my head out and put my hand to my forehead and glance up to see the man now scooting down to my level, knees bent and balancing on his toes. My eyes looked up to see his face. It was Mr. Ramsey, my two o’clock appointment.

“Yeah.” I answered. “This hasn’t been my day.”

“So I understand. I just got a call from your office saying we needed to reschedule.”

“Sorry about that.” I struggle to at least get to my knees. Hard to do gracefully in a long narrow skirt. I’m going back to slacks from now on. My hair had to be a mess from laying in the dirt.

“Would you like some help?” He reached out to touch my hair and I heard some stones drop out.

“Yeah. That would be nice, Mr. Ramsey.”

“Call me Jon.”

“Jon. Thank you.”

“Miss Brown, I don’t believe I have ever heard your first name.” He offered me a hand. Strong and sure he helped me to my feet. I felt heat travel up my arms from his touch. Oh, my.

I blushed. “Sapphire. I know. It’s strange but my parents were a bit unconventional.”

His eyebrows went up. “It describes your eyes perfectly, though.” He smiled, took off his suit coat, handed it to me and rolled up his sleeves. I couldn’t help but notice the cords of muscle in his arms. I shook my head. Maybe the sun was getting to me. I had no right to think of a client in that way. He knelt down by my car and in no time had the wheel off and the spare on. Now his dress pants looked about as clean as my skirt. His blonde hair was disheveled. He looked so much more approachable all rumpled from helping me. My heart skipped a beat.

“Thank you.” I said as I packed the jack away in its compartment and he tossed my pathetic looking tire in the trunk.

“I’m glad I could help. There’s a Starbucks up at the next exit. Can I treat you to something to drink? I think we both deserve it. After that I can follow you then to the dealer to make sure you get there safely.”

It’s a work day, but I’m already in trouble and since I make my money on commission. . . “Sure. That sounds great.”

We headed to the restaurant. I found the restroom and tried to at least get the grease off my hands. My dark hair is a mess so I braided it back loosely so it was off my face. My cheeks were pink. Maybe I did get too much sun. I scrubbed at the grease marks that somehow made their way there and put on lipstick. Why? I don’t know. I have an attractive business man buying me a drink at a coffee shop when I look like this? And lipstick was going to help? I shrugged and left to meet him.

I accepted my ice cold Via from him. Cool lime. I definitely needed something to cool me off. I glance over at Mr. Ramsey. Jon. He’s an attractive man. I’ve always admired him when we have met before. It is awkward now. Is this business or pleasure? I wished for the latter.

“I’m sorry I had to cancel our meeting today. I do have those reports in my car if you wanted to look at them.”

He waved me off. “I’m in no hurry, Sapphire. To be honest, I had already made my decision and you have the contract. I’ll send it to your office later. Maybe that will get your boss off your back.”

“Thank you, Jon. That means a lot.”

“You are good at what you do. Matter of fact, I was wondering if you would consider a job change.”

I squint. Partly because the sun is shining in and I’m not sure I heard him correctly. “What kind of job change?”

“How would you like to work exclusively on my accounts, in house? I can promise to compensate you fairly. Salaried position and full benefits.”

My eyes grow wide. “Really?”

He nodded his head. “I also wanted to ask something a bit more personal.”

“Okay.”

“Could I take you to lunch after church on Sunday? I noticed we attend the same one and just wondered. . . “

“Lunch? A date?”

“The job offer is not dependant on you accepting my offer to connect outside of work.”

I gulped. Mixing business and pleasure? Dating someone who could be my boss? “I don’t date co-workers or supervisors.” I regretted having to say that. It would be nice to be able to have both the job and the man.

He bit his lip and nodded his head. “I thought you would say that. Are you turning down the job offer or the date?” His gaze from those dark eyes was intense.

“I’m turning down the job, Jon. I’ll accept the date.” I sip my Via and watched him over the lid.

He smiled and tingles warmed my insides. I landed the account so my boss wouldn’t be mad at me and at the same time snagged the attention of a pretty cute business man when I looked my worst. Thanks to an inconvenient flat tire. All of a sudden today didn’t seem so bad after all.

New Acquisitions Editor at Prism Book Group

Apr22

I recently accepted a position as Acquisitions Editor for Prism Book Group. This was not something I had looked for but kind of got dropped in my lap by surprise. I shrugged. Why not? I applied and was honest that I didn’t even think I was qualified. I took a test – passed. I was offered the job. I thought about it, prayed about it and then….

I volunteered as a judge for the Genesis contest for ACFW (American Christian Fiction Writers). I’m an encourager at heart and tried so hard to be honest but also supportive to the entries I had. A few made me smile. A few had me wishing I could sign that author up. That’s when it hit me. That’s what I would be doing as an acquisitions editor. I would be scouting manuscripts and seeing which ones I really wanted to read more of.

Some of those didn’t have the highest scores. Hear me. Some of those manuscripts were not going to win the competition. Maybe they were an 80 or 85. They weren’t a 90 or 98. I had to follow the judge’s scorecard. I was honest. In spite of perhaps a lower score, there were stories that stirred me. There was something about the writer’s voice that spoke to me. As an editor who would work with a writer, these were stories I would have been willing to invest in, to help get them to sparkle and to see that author’s name on the cover of their own book. To see them reach their publishing dream.

Tingles of excitement sparked in my heart, and I knew. With all the open doors and the unanimous affirmation of those I had talked this over with, I knew that as much as I love writing my own stories and want to see them published, I would love just as much to help other authors reach their dreams too.

I still feel a bit inadequate for the job. It sets me on a path I had not anticipated. Most of the time when I type the word “acquisitions” I spell it wrong! I also spell the wrong quite often too (teh)!

So if you are here and you are interested, check out www.prismbookgroup.com. I love romance: historical (especially Regency), westerns, comedy, romantic suspense, contemporary. If you know authors who are looking, let them know. They can submit to me at sbaganz@prismbookgroup.com.

I will be at the following conferences as well to meet with writers and hope to add more to my schedule soon:

May 11 Lakefly Literary Conference, Oshkosh, WI .http://www.lakeflylit.org/

May 31-June 2 Wisconsin Romance Writers Conference, Oconomowoc, WI http://www.wisrwa.org/

June 6-8 Write to Publish, Wheaton, IL http://www.writetopublish.com/

September 27-28 Wisconsin Writers Conference, Wisconsin Rapids, WI http://www.wiwrite.org/

Mystery Love (Flash Fiction Romance)

Apr15

On Monday, I found an envelope under my windshield. On the inside was a little note that read. “You are beautiful.” No name. No indication of who it could be from. It warmed my heart.

Tuesday after work there was a daisy under my windshield. No note. It made me smile and I wondered, who?

Wednesday there was a little bag tucked under the windshield when I left to go for lunch. Inside was a package of Lindt Truffles, my favorite chocolate, and a note that said “You’re sweet.”

Thursday after work there was nothing on my car. When I arrived home to find a gift bag hanging from my doorknob. Inside was a container of mixed nuts and a note that said, “I’m nuts about you.” Nuts? I was the one going nuts trying to wrack my brain as to who was doing this.

Friday a package arrived for me at work. No return address. I opened it up to find a ticket to a dinner theater show downtown with a note. “Meet me?” I could hardly wait until I was able to finally and race home to change for my mystery date.

I arrived and was escorted to my table for two with wine glasses and a bottle already chilling. I looked at the label. Whoever it was had good taste. The waiter came and offered to fill my glass. I shrugged and let him do so and sipped the champagne. This guy was sparing no expense.

Curiosity was killing me. None of the men I had recently dated seemed to be capable of this kind of subtlety. Most had been too self-absorbed to even wonder about what I liked or didn’t. So who? I felt anxious so I sipped more of my bubbly drink. Probably not a good idea on an empty stomach.

The waiter returned with a bouquet of pink roses. Something flickered in my mind. Only one person had ever given me pink roses. When I saw his familiar face walking towards me I felt faint. Dressed in a dark suit and tie, his auburn hair curling around his ears and his cheeky grin gave him a roguish air.

“Ian?” My lips moved but no words came out.

He approached with panther-like grace and picked up my hand to kiss it before he sat across from me. He smiled and I felt my heart melt as he picked up his own glass of wine to drink. “I’m glad you came, Colleen.”

“When did you get back? How come you didn’t let me know you were in the States?” Ian and I had corresponded for the last year while he was studying overseas in England.

“I wanted to surprise you.” He smiled and I felt my heart drop. When had he ever looked so good?

The waiter took our order and left. We chatted about his studies and my work. When I asked if he was returning to England he avoided the question. I decided to relax and enjoy his company and the wonderful food. The play was delightful. As the evening wound down Ian escorted me out to my car and asked if he could drive. “Are you sure you can handle driving on the right side of the road?” I teased him and got in the passenger seat.

He drove to spot by the lake. The full moon above reflected in the lazy waves. We walked over to a bench and sat. I shivered and he pulled off his coat to wrap it around my shoulders. I smiled as I inhaled his scent and the warmth. I was in a delicious dream. Ian was home!

“I have a question I wanted to ask you, Colleen.”

I smiled at him and clasped his hand to let him know he could ask me anything.

“I got a job lined up in England after I graduate in a few months. I really want to be able to say yes to this opportunity but. . .

“Ian, that’s fantastic! I’m so proud of you!” I reached over and wrapped my arms around him in a hug and found my lips locking with his. Warmth spread though me.

Ian dislodged my arms and separated us, but I could tell he had been as affected by that kiss as I was.

He swallowed hard. He stood up and reached for something in his pocket and dropped to his knee in front of me. My hand went to my mouth in shock.

“Colleen. I don’t want to live without you. Wherever God has for me to go, I long for you to be by my side. I feel like I’ve loved you forever. Will you marry me?” He opened up the small jewelers box to reveal a diamond ring with an antique design. So my style.

It took a few moments for his words to register. “You want me to marry you and move to England?” This was almost too much to take in.

He tilted his head and nodded. “I’ve been praying about this for months. If you don’t want to move overseas then I’ll look for something here in the States.”

“But this is what you have worked so hard for all these years. Oh, Ian.” I leaned forward and placed a hand on each side of his face and leaned forward to kiss him again.

“Is that a yes?” he asked as we came up for air.

“Most definitely a yes.” I wrapped my arms around him for another kiss and he lost his balance and we both fell to the ground. Laying there side by side he broke the kiss and placed that ring on my finger. There was no more mystery as to who loved me anymore, so I kissed him again.

My Beautiful Nightmare (Short Story Romance)

Mar18

I can’t believe I did something so stinkin’ stupid! I was out riding my bike like usual. Kind of my way to feel the wind in my face and move faster than I would if I walked and get the benefit of some exercise. Not that it’s changed my waistline, mind you. If I could only give up the potato chips and M&M’s I would fare much better. But regardless, I was riding my bike and enjoying the scenery and somehow did not see the car parked right in my way. As in RIGHT. IN. MY. WAY. My bike hit that bumper and the spare tire I call my waistline met the handlebars with great force since I carry a little extra weight on the back end as well to balance of my entire package. I fell off to the side and just lay there on the grass between the curb and sidewalk. No air. I couldn’t breathe. Ugh. How does a grown woman not see a car parked in the road when she’s riding her bike? Not breathing was no fun either.

I lay there with my eyes closed waiting for my lungs to decide it was time to inflate again. Something blocked out the sunshine on my face and my eyes opened to see, well, HIM. You know, the man I’ve been fantasizing about meeting all my life? Tall, dark, handsome, broad shoulders and wearing a t-shirt that fit oh, so right.

“Are you all right?”

He had a lovely voice too.

My eyes snapped open and blinked. This had to be a dream or as one song on the radio put it, a beautiful nightmare. My lungs started to work and I nodded my head and felt my helmet slide back and forth on my forehead. Great. I meet the man of my dreams and I’m in my baggy sweats, ratty t-shirt and wearing a bike helmet. I hadn’t even showered yet today. I was going to do that after my work out.

He dropped to one knee next to me. “Are you sure?”

I tried to push myself up to a sitting position. Yup. He was gorgeous. “I’m fine. Thank you. Just got the breath knocked out of me and feel a little silly right now.” I smiled and shrugged. I am what I am. Only now I can’t breathe because he’s so close and he smells, well, delicious. Can a man smell that way? Well, he does. A heady combination of soap and sweat.

He smiled. Beautiful teeth. He held out his left hand to help me up. I grab it and notice there is no ring. Hmmm. Maybe this wasn’t an accident at all, was it God? “Thank you, I’m Sabrina.”

“I’m Mitch. I live here.” He points to the house across the lawn from the car I hit. “I must have messed you up by parking my car here.”

“Messed me up? It’s my own fault for not watching where I was going.” I go over to the car and check the bumper. Not a scratch. Whew.

“Yeah, but you ride this way every afternoon at this time. The car is usually parked in the driveway but I moved it to organize my garage. I should have realized you would be coming.”

He knew I came this way every day? “Well, it is nice of you to notice and take the blame, but I really should either pay more attention or vary my route so I’m not so lulled into complacency.” Did I just spout that bunch of non-sense?

“Can I get you something to drink?” He looked at me with puppy-dog eyes, like my acceptance would mean everything to him. What would it hurt?

“Sure. That would be nice.” I put the bike up on the yard and let down the kick-stand. I removed my helmet and hung it from the handlebar. I had a serious case of helmet hair: the sweat that plasters it to my head while the rest frizzes out the sides is the downside of safe biking. Ha! Did I just say biking was safe? Obviously not for me. I try to fluff my scalp and encourage those flattened hairs to rise to the occasion. I know it’s futile but I have to try.

“Come on, then.” We walked down the driveway towards the garage and the piles that were scattered about. There was a refrigerator inside. He opened the door and pointed. “Take your pick.”

“Pepsi. Great, my favorite.” I reached in and pulled out the cold blue aluminum can and popped it open and eagerly drank. I should start carrying a water bottle with me. “Ahhhh. Thank you.” I smiled up at him and he looked a little nervous. “Are you new in the neighborhood?”

He put his hands in his jean pockets with his thumbs sticking out. “Yeah. I got a job transfer a few months back and needed a place to live. This little house seemed to suit my needs.”

“You must plan on staying here for awhile if you were willing to buy a house.” It was a cute house. Two story with neat grey siding and white trimmed windows. Probably three bedrooms.

He nodded, suddenly seeming shy. “I have to confess something, Sabrina.”

“What would that be?”

“I’ve been wanting to meet you since I first moved in and saw you riding by every day.” His eyes looked up at me and his eyebrows rose and lips were tightly held together.

I was stunned. Never in a million years would I have believed that a good looking man would be watching for me every day as I rode my bike. I might have invested in a nice cute little coordinated outfit to wear had I known. “Really? May I ask why?” I motion with my free hand from the top of my head down to my shoes as if presenting him with a prize package. I know I am no prize.

He grinned. “I don’t know. It’s just that you are faithful and seemed content as you pedal on by. I was tempted to try to join you, but my bike was buried in the back here. That’s why I decided I needed to organize my garage. So I could ride my bike and maybe run into you somehow.”

I look over at the bike. It’s a nice one. The kind that racers use. Lightweight but expensive. Mine was purchased at Target for about $100 back in the day. I laugh. “Looks like I beat you to the ‘running into you’ part of that plan.”

“I don’t know why but I just needed to get to know you.”

“So. . . how much do you know about me?” Now I’m not sure if I should be flattered or scared.

“Well, I figure you live not far away.”

I nodded and bit my lip. Not my most attractive look but then I don’t have much going for me in that department right now.

“You exude joy.”

Well, I have to admit it’s kind of nice that he can see that in me because to be honest, I struggle with depression and loneliness.

“And I think you are kind of cute.”

“Have you had your vision checked lately?”

He laughed. “I’m a pilot of a private jet. My vision is perfect.”

“I just don’t get this.”

“Why? I’ve seen that you clean up nice. I saw you at church.”

I put the can up to my heated cheeks. A single, handsome pilot has been checking me out? I’m not about to walk away without getting to know him better. I point to the piles on the floor. “Need a hand?”

“If you would be willing to help me put the rest of this stuff back on the shelves, I would love to help you finish your bike ride. Seems like you might need someone around just in case anything were to happen again.” He gave a half grin.

I laughed. “Okay, Mitch, but just realize that I might find riding with you even more of a distraction and therefore, even more dangerous to my safety.” I sipped my Pepsi before setting it down on the shelf and grabbing a box. “Where do you want this?”

It didn’t take long for the two of us to get the garage in shape.

We surveyed the work as I slammed the rest of my soda. Standing by my side, he put an arm around me, holding my opposite shoulder and gave me a little squeeze. Before I could respond a loud belch escaped my lips. Dear Lord, could we add any more humility into this afternoon?

Mitch laughed and I shook my head. I tossed the empty can and it landed perfectly in the recycling bin. “How about we take that ride now?”

It was the first of many.

Versatile Blogger Award Winner

Mar9

A Thank You

I want to thank CD Meyers for nominating me for the Versatile Blogger award. His website is: http://countrylifediscipleship.wordpress.com/ It was very sweet and I’m glad you found my blog and enjoy it!

Fifteen other Blogs

Now, as part of this lovely award, I have the assignment to pass on to you fifteen other blogs that I personally visit and enjoy as I nominate them for this award as well. Nominating for this award is all that has to be done to win it – so not only are they nominated – they win! So, drumroll please, my personal pics for Versatile Blogger Award are:

http://www.thebarndoor.net/ “Seeing the world through Midwestern eyes.” (sometimes you’ll find a story from me here as well).
http://notafraidtotellmystory.wordpress.com/ Athena Dean shares her journey out of a cult where she lost everything to fall into the freedom and grace of Jesus.
http://goinswriter.com/about-me/ I like Jeff’s authenticity as he writes about writing and challenges to a living faith.
http://wakeupmyfaith.wordpress.com/about/ Kevin Adams is living life on the edge of faith. Wanna be challenged to get out of the boat? Follow him.
http://elisabethcorcoran.blogspot.com/ Elisabeth is spinning gold from the pain of a broken heart.
http://www.chipmacgregor.com/ He’s not my agent, but he writes great stuff about writing and life. He has shown a boldness to speak truth when attacked by a cult regarding a publishing takeover (see Athena Dean’s blog listed above).
http://www.leslievernick.com/ “Enriching relationships that matter most,” Leslie writes from the perspective of a biblical psychotherapist and she does it well.
http://christianregency.com/blog/ This is a blog for those who love inspirational Regency fiction, one of the genres in which I write (and love to read). Many posts are on tidbits about the time period but recently they had a celebration where the various authors who participate wrote one story together. It was fun to read.
http://www.vondaskelton.com/ This lady is a hoot but don’t let her humor fool you – she is dedicated to empowering and encouraging others and she does it with the most beautiful smile.
http://thewriteconversation.blogspot.com/ Edie Melson is a sweetheart who writes about writing and has become a social media guru. Lots of good info on her blog.
http://southernwritersmagazine.blogspot.com/ You don’t have to be Southern to appreciate the wealth of wisdom compiled in these pages.
http://michaelhyatt.com/ “Intentional Leadership” I’ve enjoyed this blog for a long time now – lots of wisdom for leaders as well as writers. I don’t know why I bought his book “Platform” when everything in the book is here on the blog if you only look for it. Oh, he knows the industry too having been CEO of Thomas Nelson Publishers for many years.
http://www.marydemuth.com/ “Live Uncaged” I love Mary’s heart and her willingness to be vulnerable and gut-wrenchingly honest about life, abuse, healing, faith and writing.
http://livingourfaithoutloud.blogspot.com/ This is by a dear friend and writing mentor Lisa Lickel.
http://lillygracebrown.wordpress.com/ She writes to those struggling in difficult marriages. If you know of anyone who is there – connect them with Lilly Grace.

Seven Things

As part of the award I’m to share seven things about myself. So here goes…

My favorite color is red-raspberry, or magenta, or fushia or whatever you want to call a bright bold pinkish/purple.
I used to do ComedySportz in Milwaukee. I took workshops there and worked for them as a second job for awhile. It was a great place to be wild and crazy but boy did we work hard. Fond memories of my time there. I speak fluent jibberish.
I love people who are willing to admit to the truth of a chronic mental illness or any weakness and struggle they have. Maybe because that’s the population I worked with. Maybe because I have major depressive disorder. Maybe because we’re all just a little bit crazy.
My moniker “silygoos” came when I was getting personalized plates for my van. It was one of three choices (actually number 2) but what I ended up with (SILY GOS). To save money in our budget I no longer have those plates on my car. I tried to argue it was biblical to have them but my husband didn’t buy it. “Vanity of vanity, all is vanity.” (Ecclesiastes). *sigh*
I’m an early to bed girl. Sleep has always been something I value and make time for. So if you call me after 8:30, I may not respond. I get up early as well as it’s the only quiet time I can often get in my day. I have a friend who nicknamed me “Snoozin.”
I’m the original runaway bride. Two cancelled weddings (one on the morning of) before the actual one really happened. Long story, maybe it’ll show up in one of my novels someday.
After years of being told I was allergic to dogs – I finally own my own dog. Spatzle is a maltese mix and a sassafras (that’s what I call him along with “poochi-poo”). He’s my dog even though I share him with the rest of the family. He was a rescue and has been a huge blessing in my life. No is ever as happy to see me as he is so he’s good for my ego. Oh, and I’m not allergic to him at all.

Flowers from God (Flash Fiction Romance)

Feb23

The flowers were lovely. But who sent them? And why?

I gazed at their beauty. It was December. Who could afford flowers like these at this time of year? Lilies in hot pink, yellow and orange. Red and pink roses? Certainly no one I could think of. And one white daisy. That flower always made me think of innocence. Purity. I looked heavenward. Okay, God. You have my attention. Thank you for the flowers. I shook my head as I placed the vase on the table. They reminded me of God’s expansive, beautiful, grace-love. A love I had been numb too since. . . Why did something beautiful have to stir up yuck?

With one last glance at the splash of color that made it look like spring had exploded in my kitchen, I grabbed my laundry basket and headed out into the cold snow. It was still coming down. I would be shoveling later. Sigh. Work, chores and church. My life.

“Hey, Nic!”

Brad was already settled in at our usual table at the Laundromat. We had been friends for awhile now and he was my one safe person to talk to. Other than Saturday mornings, we saw each other at church and that was about it. He worked second shift with the police department. Me, I worked an administrative job at the hospital.

I forced a smile. “Hi, Brad.”

His left eyebrow lifted. “Did we get up on the wrong side of the bed today?” His lopsided grin showed the dimple on his right cheek.

I grunted as I slammed my clothes into the washing machines, added detergent and plugged in the requisite quarters.

“What’s the matter, Nicole?”

I swiped my eyes with my sweater before I turned to sit down at the table across from him. He placed a ceramic cup of hot chocolate in front of me. There were even tiny marshmallows. My fave.

“Thank you.”

He was watching me, but I pretended to be absorbed in the steamy chocolate. I closed my eyes and inhaled heaven. When I finally looked up across the table, I saw compassion in his dark bloodshot eyes. His face was unshaven. He still looked handsome though. I was suddenly jealous of his future wife.

“I got flowers.” I sounded whiny even to my own ears.

“Flowers?”

“Yeah.”

“Well if there’s a reason to be depressed I suppose flowers would top the list.” He rolled his eyes.

I fought back a grin, not willing to give up my funk quite yet. “I don’t know who they’re from.” I sipped the chocolate, savoring the comfort. I still felt a weight in my chest. “They reminded me of God’s love and how far I’ve wandered from Him.” Who else but Brad could I have shared this with? No one.

“Beauty, mystery and conviction.”

“Yeah, kinda.”

“Andy?”

I shook my head and felt my ponytail wave in response. “He and Jennifer moved away. He’s in the past.”

“Wasn’t it about a six-months ago. . .”

“That he dumped me? Yeah, thanks for the reminder.”

“What are friends for? He was all you talked about for awhile. You haven’t mentioned him in a long time.”

“Flowers like that would never have come from him.”

“So, who? It obviously bothers you.”

I shrugged.

“I get the impression you don’t feel you are worth that kind of gift.”

A sigh escaped my lips. He had me pegged. I sipped my chocolate and leaned back in my plastic chair and let the sounds of the whirring washing machines and the thunking items in the dryers distract me. I glanced around. White and grey. Blah. I looked outside through the steamy plate glass windows. More white and grey. Dirty. The world looked dirty. That’s the way I had been feeling deep inside since Andy’s betrayal and my subsequent anger at God. I didn’t like it. I just wanted to feel loved.

Ding.

Brad rose and went to take his clothes out of the washer, and transfer them to the dryers across the aisle. He looked good in his jeans and sweatshirt. The casual clothes didn’t hide his fit physique. His dark curly hair must have been cut recently. It looked nice. He returned, stretched his legs and folded his arms across his broad chest. His eyelids lowered as he looked at me.

“You are worth those flowers, Nic.” His voice had deepened.

I was speechless.

He leaned his head back and sighed. “Why can’t you accept,” his head came back up and his eyes searched mine as he leaned forward, “that you are a beautiful and desirable woman?”

I blinked. “Brad?” He’d never talked to me like that before.

“I had noticed you while you were dating Andy. I heard why he left you. I knew then you were a woman of godly character. You mentioned at church that you came here. I decided I would too. So I could get to know you better.” He reached across the table and took my hands in his.

“I’m not as godly as you think.” I focused on our joined hands. My insides tingled.

“Are any of us? Look, Nic. I know Andy hurt you. But you are worthy of more respect and love than he could give.”

My mouth dropped open as my eyes met his.

He shook his head. “Did you know, I have laundry facilities in my condo? And I often, like last night, work a double shift on Fridays?”

My eyes got big. I blinked again. “But, really? Why?” I stuttered. He could not have been coming here to be with me. Could he? Calm down, Nic. Inhale. Exhale. Repeat.

“The flowers?” I whispered. His hands squeezed mine.

He nodded and smiled, flashing white teeth and two adorable dimples. “Today is the six month anniversary of when I started to fall in love with you.”

Beautiful, extravagant love, indeed.

The Next Big Thing Blog Hop – following Lisa Lickel

Dec12

I’m following in the blogsteps of the fabulous Lisa Lickel, http://livingourfaithoutloud.blogspot.com/2012/12/the-next-big-thing-blog-hop-following.html who posted about Meow Mayhem last week.

Today, I’d like to share a bit about my latest work in progress:

What is the working title of your book?

Lord Harrow’s Heart

Where did the idea come from for the book?
This book is the fourth in my Rose Hill Series. The first is “The Virtuous Viscount” followed by “Lord Phillip’s Folly” and “Lord Michael’s Mischief.” I was trying to keep with the double sounding consonants in the title while trying to convey a bit of what the book is about. Theo (Lord Harrow) is really looking for love, hence the heart.

What genre does your book fall under?

Historical/Regency Romance

Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?

Can you picture him in a cravat?

I try to look for pictures on-line of people (actors/models etc) that are kind of the image I have of my character. This one was hard because Theodore was kind of the anti-hero. He’s more of a cuddly teddy-bear type. Not the haughty London aristocrat, but a gentle man, strong but soft. He’s not as athletic as the other protagonists from my previous novels. Marcus (Virtuous Viscount) was very controlled and fit. Phillip was a bit anal-retentive but trim. Michael was scrappy, kind of like a street fighter, lean and muscular but on the shorter end of things. Theo is gentle which seems so much more passive in his personality. I finally hit on Emilio Estevez. Not sure if he could handle the British accent though.

What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book?
Lord Theodore Harrow wants to find love, without the drama, but in Valeria he gets more than he bargained for: adventure.

Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency?

My series is as of yet unpublished. My first novel is at a publishing house to be considered and my prayer is that a publishing house who believes in the Regency genre would contract for the whole series.

How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?

I wrote the initial draft (85,000 words) in thirty days during November’s NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month). I’ll be doing some light edits and handing it off to my beta readers while ignoring if for a month or more before tearing it apart and polishing it. I can write a full-length novel without NaNo – but it’s fun to do it this way. I have written the previous three in this series that way. I have also written two contemporary romances without NaNo. (check out www.nanowrimo.org for more information on that kind of writing adventure).

What other books would you compare this story to within your genre?
I wish I could say that I write as well as Georgette Heyer, Julia Klassen or Lawanna Blackwell – but to be honest, my Regencies are filled with a bit more mystery and adventure than most would be. They tend to have a faster pace. This is no Jane Austen. My men struggle more with temptation too. Theo really likes kissing. I keep things clean but there is a bit of “heat” there.

Who or What inspired you to write this book?
I started writing four years ago and the series kind of spun out of that first book. I started writing because of a dream and a story I had in my head for 15 years. I kept writing because I found I loved it! So I guess you could say it’s all God’s fault.

I had decided all five of my male characters from Marcus Remington’s story (The Virtuous Viscount) needed their own tales. After all, these men need wives! They just have a bit more of a challenge finding their “happily ever after.” This year it was Theodore’s turn for love. Next year Captain Jared Allendale will have his opportunity but it will likely occur mostly in France, Spain and Portugal before they end up at Rose Hill.

What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest?
There’s some evil afoot. My band of men seem to keep running into a dark, sinister character known as The Black Diamond. He surfaces in the Virtuous Viscount, is in the background of Lord Phillip’s Folly, becomes far more involved in Sir Michael’s Mischief and is quite personally involved in Lord Harrow’s Heart. He’s a threat to the crown as well as to these men – and the women they love. So there’s a thread of mystery and suspense that weaves through the books. It’s not all about stolen kisses!

Look for the animals too. Some play more significant roles than others. My favorite though had to be the ferret that was in Michael’s story. There’s a sweet kitten in Theo’s tale that gives an assist at an important time.

Check out my fellow writer and friend Shellie Neumeier today at: http://shellieneumeier.com/2012/12/the-next-big-thing-blog-hop/

On December 19^th – go visit my friend and fellow Regency Romance author Susan at: www.graciouswoman.wordpress.com.

We Do Not Write Alone

Dec7

I’ve been writing for four years now and it hit me today that God has taught me some cool things on my path to publication.

Photo by Tom Otte Imaging

There is a beautiful group of people out there who love the Lord and are seeking to serve them with their writing. They come in all shapes and sizes and genres. From a worldly perspective they are my competition for the attention and money of the public who would buy my work. But in reality – they are my brothers and sisters in Christ. They have become so dear to me and some I have yet to meet – and hug – face to face.
We all have our own unique voice and if God has gifted us and brought our pen to paper or our fingers to keyboard, our only true audience is Him. I’m not to be anyone else but me as I write. Other authors are the same. In that sense I do not have to be jealous of them because they are writing as God created them too, with their own unique “voice,” just as I am writing with mine.
Writing is an act of worship to me. Yes, it is hard work and I am constantly learning, but ultimately I want my words to bring honor and glory to Jesus. I write Christian romance. I ultimately want me readers to understand that the greatest romance is between us and Christ.
Writing is a community endeavor. How would I grow without submitting myself and my work to the eyes and wisdom of those who have come before me? I may put my words to paper in solitude but they are honed in community.
Pride is the lure of authors but also hard to hold on to. Let me explain. I can write a book and feel like it’s my best work ever – until I get my line edits and or read it myself a few months later and realize how much it will take to make it better. Whether writing flash-fiction or a novel – the editing process strips away any sense that this is a phenomenal piece of work. I’ve learned to be grateful for the truth-speakers who have helped me grow as a author. I’m not saying that the comments don’t sting at times, after all those words that form a story were given to me by God to put down. It is hard to recognize at times that the failure them to sparkle perfectly lies in my humanness.
Writing cannot be for money. I’m not saying I don’t want to make any. The hours are brutal the work long and hard. I love doing it. But I doubt any amount of money I could earn would truly compensate for the heart and soul and butt in chair time that I put into it. It has to be done because it is what I have been called to do and I cannot imagine doing anything else with as much joy.
I could not be the writer I am without the support and encouragement of special people in my life. Someone said “Don’t forget us little people when you make it big.” Well – that “little person” has been my cheerleader and I hope I never forget the way individuals like him have cheered me on. See, some people scoff. “Oh, you are a writer. How nice for you.” Or “Enjoy your hobby, you won’t make any money at that.” or this one. “So you publish your novel and you’ll be rich?” That one makes me laugh. Sure I will, after I put you in there. There are many ways to kill off people in my stories but as Arnold Schwarzenegger put it in his character in True Lies, “They were bad, very, very bad.” As another quote on the internet says “If people didn’t want to be put in your books, they should have been nicer to you!”

I feel sorry for authors who do not reach out and engage in the communities of authors that are out there, especially if they are Christians because it is such a delightful group to be a part of! At the conferences, in writing groups and on-line. It’s more than establishing a platform to sell a book – it’s about having people love you when the writing is hard. It’s about people who celebrate with you for even what may seem like the smallest of victories, because they “get you.” They understand. It’s about encouraging each other to follow the calling of God and do it with excellence. It’s about the bigger body of Christ seeking to reach the world and inspire others to faith and wholehearted devotion to our King.

For His Glory Alone – I write.

I Choose You (New Romance Anthology)

Dec4

“Want a quick romance read that will tingle your toes, make you say “ahh…,” and cause your heart to sing? I Choose You is a compilation of the best -of-the-best romance short stories from across the globe. Experience the mystery, the warmth, the laughter, the sweetness of love. The kind of love that says “I will…as long as we both shall live.”

This book contains thirty-eight short, clean and inspirational romance stories that were selected from a contest held by OakTara Publishers and edited by Ramona Tucker and Jennifer Wessner. I was fortunate to be one of the authors whose story was selected for this and I hope you get a chance to read “Angel on Fourth Street.”

This will eventually be available at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Target as well as other outlets. When they are I will post the links. The link above is where you can purchase it right now through OakTara.

Authors in this anthology (besides myself) are: Elaine Baldwin, M.E. Born, Mary Cantell, Christina Ryan Claypool, Jan Cline, Elaine Marie Cooper, Sadi and Sophie Cuffe, JoAnn Durgin, Diane E. Ellenwood, Beatrice Fishback, Lynn Gipson, Sara Gipson, Kathryn Hartman, Jenny Johnson, Gail Kittleson, Connie Mann, Anne-Marie Mooney, Millicent Njue, Candice Sue Patterson, Laura Hodges Poole, Janet R. Sady, Tricia Saxby, Beverly LaHote Schwind, Esther Seaton-Dummer, Sharon Bernash Smith, Charlotte S. Snead, Davalynn Spencer, Mary Ellen Stone, Kristina Storer, Dicky To, Carole Towriss, Jude Urbanski, Aletheia Von Gottlieb, Lori-Ann Whyte, Marlene Worrall.

A delightful gift for Christmas!

Rejection is Part of the Game

Apr14

I’m in the midst of some changes in my involvement in church ministry. It’s been hard being in leadership because being in a position like that is like putting a target on your back and letting everyone practice shooting arrows at you. The hard part is that it is rarely that people criticize you for things failing or not going well – the attacks get personal.

I have been slandered over the years more times than I can count. The attacks are more on my personality or character and often judging my motives.

This kind of thing is hard. If you need affirmation and encouragement – this is NOT the place to find it. Sad isn’t it? The church, where we are to be “building one another up and encouraging one another as the day is drawing closer” can often be the place of our greatest pain. Yet God has given me a deep love for the body of Christ.

I do get affirmation from close friends and leadership. I am blessed by so many people I have served with. Still, it hurts to maligned and misunderstood.

Maybe that’s why I’m such a champion of respecting and praying for our church leaders. I know firsthand the pain of attacks and the difficulty leaders face in leading a group of volunteers who are trying to be “family” in the body of Christ.

But, I’m a writer too. Writing is also ministry. There is something different about rejection in writing. For instance, I just got a rejection of a manuscript that had been requested in full. Ouch. It hurts whenever someone doesn’t think your work is good enough. But that’s just it – it’s my work. I can improve. I can grow. This editor was a blessing in the way she delivered her rejection. She took the time to give me specific areas where there were problems with my writing and how to change them. She encouraged me to submit again in the future. This is highly unusual in the publishing industry. She didn’t blacklist my name or say I was a crappy person too full of myself to see how awful my writing was.

Rejection is part of the game with writing and seeking publication. It just is. The more I’m on line the more I see how many of us are out there pursuing our dream, writing our stories and trying to honor God with our gifts. Sometimes I admit, I feel jealous of the success of others when they finally get that contract, that book art, that first box of books with THEIR name on the cover.

I know I could have those things if I self-published and ignore the opportunity to grow. But I want to give God my best effort. That takes work and I’ll admit that sometimes I fear I’ll never be good enough. I’m so blessed by my readers cheer me on. They remind me of how God has already used my writing for His glory.

In writing the rejections are usually not personal. My writer friends know I’m zany and crazy and fun. They believe in me because they know I desire to grow and I’m not so full of myself to think I’m the next hot thing since Stephen King.

So I’m going to keep writing and serving God here until He says no more or calls me home. I’ll still serve in the church but the way that happens is shifting, and I embrace that. The Scripture God keeps bringing to my mind is this:

How do you handle rejection? What is God doing in your life that is new and fresh?

Susan Baganz's Silygoos Blog

Sometimes silly, always authentic.

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