You Know You're Old When... by Liz Flaherty

I forgot it was Saturday and no one reminded me! This was on another blog and Substack yesterday, so I'm sliding into home just behind the ball and using it here, too with a change or two. Plus adding a  plea for a vote at the bottom. Thanks as always for reading the Window. - Liz

In case you were in any doubt about it, there are ways to know you're getting old. Or already are. It is not necessary to admit it to anyone, so if you like, you can just keep it between you and me. 

On before-and-after pictures of home remodeling, you like the before better.

Your kids are the age you were when you first began to think you might be old.

By the time you get home from having your hair colored, your roots are showing.

Laughing hard comes with a penalty. So does sneezing. Coughing's not good, either. 

You no longer care what you have for supper. Or if you eat supper. Or if anyone cleans up after it. 

You begin to think of other generations in terms like snot-nosed brats.

You don't like it when other generations think of you as...all those mean things you see on Facebook.

You forget...well, no, you don't actually forget things--you just have to be reminded.

Making the bed takes enough energy that you need to sit down for a while. Maybe have something to drink and some chips. 

Being set in your ways becomes unattractive as you sink into curmudgeonity. (Nope, not a word, but it should be. Remember you saw it here first.)

You talk too much about being old. Not sure why that happens, but it does. Case in point, on your birthday, you even blog about it. 

Furniture displays remind you of lobbies in medical facilities. They all look alike and you can't find a comfortable seat. 

You still love buffalo plaid even though it seems to rule the fabric mosaic of the 21st century. 

A date includes a doctor's appointment, picking up a prescription, stopping at the grocery so you can forget what you needed to get, and going to lunch, followed by a nap.

You don't get why being a cat lady is a big deal. 

You've accepted that the f-bomb is a word that must be used in every sentence to show one's non-conformity to the mores of the 20th century--before buffalo plaid became the national design--but sometimes you still flinch. 

You've forgotten that you used to feel guilty about not doing spring cleaning, Now you just feel free. And somewhat dusty.

You know that the left lane is for passing. It's not for living in, road rage, or escaping...whatever the hell it is you're trying to escape. 

You know your faith is your own. You don't have to explain it, you shouldn't deny it, and you shouldn't expect everyone else to share it. 

You know not all old people are as well mannered as you are. This is undoubtedly because all their joints ache, their organs malfunction, and someone's trying to take their car keys.

You've seen more, cried more, laughed more, and loved more than anyone else in your family. You absolutely cannot believe how lucky you are.

Although I was old yesterday on my birthday, I'm older today and I don't feel one bit different. Blessed, though. Very blessed. Have a great week, and be nice to somebody. 

I'm pleased that the cover of Pieces of Blue is in the running for Cover of the Month at the AllAuthor site. If you like the cover, I'd so appreciate your vote. There are a ton of others there to choose from, too. Here is the link to vote. https://allauthor.com/cover-of-the-month/18151/  Thanks again!

Cover of the Month Pieces of Blue Hey Everyone, I’m excited to tell you that my book has been nominated for the "Cover of the Month" contest on AllAuthor.com. This will help me a lot if I could see some votes coming in, so please remember to vote my book. Vote Now »

Thanks, Liz Flaherty

Make You Mine by Nan Reinhardt

My writing bestie Nan Reinhardt is here today and I'm always so glad to see her. We work together, talk an unconscionable amount, travel together...and there's wine and food involved ALL the time! She's here to talk about Make You Mine, the newest River's Edge book (think Madison, IN) and about where she gets ideas. Make her welcome!

So often I’m asked, where do you get the ideas for your books. I’ve tried to come up with answers that don’t make me sound as if I need to put away someplace or at the very least like I need to spend a few years in intensive therapy. But there isn’t really any better answer than the truth. So I take a deep breath and blurt it out, “I have these people in my head. They appear to me and want me to tell their stories, so I try to.” Problem is that, sometimes, the people talking to me aren’t the characters in my current work in progress.

That is a dilemma. As I’m writing book 4 in the Walkers of River’s Edge series and doing revisions on book 3 of said series, characters from book 1 of the next series are shoving to the front of the line demanding attention. It’s hard to tell them to slow their roll, so I just pull out the notebook for the next series and jot down thoughts and ideas. I’m not at all sure I won’t get characters, events, timelines, etc., mixed up if I try to write more than story at a time. I’m fairly adept at running two or three editing gigs concurrently, but I don’t think it work for writer Nan. So, I’ll continue with writing one book at a time, and let the people in my head clamor in the background. They’ll get their turn…eventually.

Speaking of the people in my head, two of them had their story released last week. Jack Walker and Maddie Ross’s book, Make You Mine is out now and available at all book retailers. Here’s the blurb—hope it intrigues you!

When his family’s company is on the line, business and pleasure definitely don’t mix, but maybe they should…

Madeline Ross left the city and a career glass ceiling behind, hoping to build a new life as the crew supervisor for Walker Construction in River’s Edge. She’s qualified and experienced, but new CEO Jackson Walker hires someone else. Even as she searches for a different job and builds a life in River’s Edge, the sexy memory of Jack teases.

After a rough year, Jackson Walker’s family business is still struggling. He needs a new construction crew supervisor, and Maddie Ross is perfect, except for the first time in his life, player Jack is suddenly smitten with the curvaceous redhead. He wants her in his bed more than on his payroll.

When his second-rate new hire is a disastrous mistake, Jack humbles himself on Maddie’s doorstep with an offer she can’t refuse. Maddie could be the key to saving his company as long as he hides his heart. But does he have to?

Amazon | B&N Nook | Apple Books | Kobo | Google Play | Tule Bookstore

EXCERPT

Setup: Jack has hired someone else and it didn’t work out so now he’s groveling on Maddie’s doorstep…well… groveling as only Jack Walker can do it.

As she struggled up the stairs with a stack of boxes, Maddie scolded herself. Idiot. You should’ve made another trip. She should’ve, but this was the last of the boxes, and she was tired and damp from the rain that was making the wooden steps up to the apartment above Mac Mackenzie’s garage rather slick. She should’ve known it would start raining while she was toting the last load upstairs.

The box on top leaned precariously and just as she moved her hand to catch it, her foot slipped on the wet step. I’m going down, was her first thought, but then footsteps thumped up the stairs behind her. A hand righted the box at the same time a strong arm wrapped around her waist and caught her.

“Careful now.” That deep voice was familiar, but Maddie was in no position to even turn her head at that point.

“T-thanks,” she managed and got her balance back.

The firm hold remained as a blond head peered over the boxes. “Let me take some of those for you.”

Jackson Walker?

One step below her, Jack lifted the top two boxes, leaving her only one, and when she moved her face toward his voice, his lips were mere inches from hers. His blue eyes smoldered dark navy and, for a moment, time stood still.

Maddie closed her eyes. Time does not stand still. Open your eyes, stupid, and get moving. She opened her eyes, but he was there so close, she felt his minty breath mingling with hers. When she opened them, he was gazing at her as if he wanted to . . . but he held back for a second, waiting, giving her time, it seemed, to say no. When she didn’t . . and then he did.

Clutching the boxes in one arm as if they held nothing more than feathers and moving his hand from her waist to grasp the banister behind her, Jack leaned in and very lightly touched his warm, full lips to hers. Her eyes closed again, automatically, and when he tipped his head and deepened the kiss, every nerve ending in her body went on point. The kiss was a crazy contradiction of gentle and passionate, sweet and sensual.

Bless whoever taught this man to kiss because she could’ve stood there in the rain forever in a lip-lock with Jackson Walker.

But finally, he lifted his lips and a wry smile curved his mouth upward. “So . . . that’s not why I’m here.”

She blinked and her voice came out croaky. “Why are you here?”

“Because I need you.” He shook his head as if to clear it. He hadn’t moved his arm yet, and it pressed against her back, sending tingles up her spine. “We . . . we need you.”

“We who?” Maddie knew the answer, but she asked anyway because she wanted to hear him say the words.

“Walker Construction.”

“Why? I thought you already hired someone.” She wanted him to beg. Maybe that was shallow of her, but he’d turned her away before and now here he was, telling her he needed her. He should grovel, just a little bit. Besides, he’d kissed her, something she felt had nothing whatsoever to do with Walker Construction. The man was an enigma.

Jack tossed his head and rain dripped off his wet hair onto her boxes. “Can we continue this conversation in a drier place, please?”

She stared at him, debating the wisdom of letting him into her apartment. Into her life, for that matter. However, she needed a job, and it seemed he was about to offer her one. But there was that kiss, that incredible, unexpected kiss . . . Her belly flipped at the thought. What was she supposed to do about that?

With a short jerk of her chin toward the door above them, she started up the stairs. “Come on, then.”

Nan Reinhardt is a USA Today bestselling author of sweet, small-town romantic fiction for Tule Publishing. Her day job is working as a freelance copyeditor and proofreader, however, writing is Nan’s first and most enduring passion. She can’t remember a time in her life when she wasn’t writing—she wrote her first romance novel at the age of ten and is still writing, but now from the viewpoint of a wiser, slightly rumpled, woman in her prime. Nan lives in the Midwest with her husband of 50 years, where they split their time between a house in the city and a cottage on a lake. Talk to Nan at: nan@nanreinhardt.com, stop by her website, or follow her on social media: Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram.

Waxing Gibbous by Liz Flaherty

It was a dark and stormy night...no, really, it was. I thought I saw the moon hanging clear and pale orange this morning, but when I went to take a picture of it, I can't find it. I don't know how you lose the moon, but I appear to have done so. Thinking I had imagined it, I looked up the moon's phase today and found this: 

"Today, the moon phase is Waxing Gibbous, with an illumination of 79.37%. It is currently 10.33 days old on Saturday, April 1, 2023. The moon is currently located in the constellation of ♌ Leo."

I still can't find it, but I did learn the term waxing gibbous. Since I am a Leo, and the moon is currently located in my constellation, it was, of all things, a comforting thing to find on this dark morning after the stormy night. Finding new words is one of the most satisfying parts of being a writer, especially when you like how it looks in print--as is the case with waxing gibbous.

Another favorite word and one I don't often use, is ephemeral. So many things match its definition, which is "lasting for a very short time." Like my sighting of the moon in its waxing gibbous stage. Like the astonishingly beautiful rainbow earlier this week. Like the years between your child's birth and his or her eighteenth birthday. Like the feeling at the end of a very good day of can it always be like this?

No. of course it can't.

I wrote earlier this week about what five minutes can mean. The article came on the heels of heartbreak after the shooting in Nashville, Tennessee, where people died. Where children died.

What I am reminded of, thinking of five minuteses and the words ephemeral and waxing gibbous is that there are things that don't fit into those quick parameters. Things like loss and the lives and homes that will never be the same again. Things like heartbreak. Those things scar over, leaving emotional knots and lesions in their wake, but they don't ever go away.

I don't have an end to this, nor have I found the moon I saw for just a few seconds in the early morning. The sun is coming up now, pushing color into the slate-colored clouds that hang above the horizon. I hope it will be a good day. I hope you have a good week.

Be nice to somebody.

Time for a Book Flood by Margie Senechal

In the spring of 1969, my mom, my sister, and I joined my dad in Keflavik, Iceland, where he’d been stationed. He’d gone on ahead of us to find us a place to live because housing on base was scarce.

We began our stay in Iceland off-base living above an Icelandic family of five, who had three kids all around my sister’s and my ages. I remember playing in the snow under streetlights and my sister getting hit in the eye with a rock disguised as snowball by some neighbor kid.

Over the years, I’ve talked to other military kids who were also stationed abroad and collectively, one of the best experiences is the opportunity to celebrate holidays and traditions of both countries.

Christmas in Iceland was like a winter dream come true. I mean, we were actually living in place that was a close replica of the North Pole and they had 13 Santas. Or what they call Yule Lads. We called them Icelandic Santas.

And while counting down to Christmas via visits from the Yule Lads was wonderful—I also love their Jolabokaflod tradition. If you’re a reader who follows other writers or readers, I’m sure you’ve heard of it in recent years. Where a gift of a book is opened on Christmas Eve to read and enjoy a piece of chocolate with.

I received two books while I was there. And probably every Christmas since, although once we left Iceland, the book was just added to the pile under the tree to be opened upon Christmas Day.

The first book I received was The Snow Queen and I’d be lying if I said I’d never considered she might kidnap me from the bus stop on some very dark morning. And that I actually hoped it could happen.

I often wonder if Iceland’s love of books has something to do with the dark and cold nights of winter. I remember walking to the bus stop in pitch black darkness, only able to see the reflective lining of my fellow students as I headed to the wooden hut we huddled in to brace us from the frigid wind. For me, books and comic books provided evening entertainment as the wind whirled outside all around us.

My second book was Children of Many Lands, which was somewhat fitting since we were living around the world from where my story began in the Pacific NW. The Snow Queen is held together by black electric tape and is in an art style that has basically faded away as a byproduct of the sixties. The books made it back to the states and through a dozen+ states as we drove from New Jersey to Washington state. And they’ve remained with me since.

I read them to my youngest sister who was born in Iceland when I was eight. I read them to kids I babysat through school, I read them to my children and other people’s children that that passed through my home daycare.

For this year’s Christmas reading, I recommend Shannon Stacey’s Stranded in a Small Town Christmas, Jenn McKinley’s It Happened One Christmas Eve, Nan Reinhardt’s The Fireman’s Christmas Wish, and finally, especially, Amy E Reichert’s Once Upon a December.

Oh, the magic of words. And the magic of Christmas.

Margie Senechal lives in the Pacific Northwest where she loves being just a ninety-minute drive from the coast. She’s currently wrapping up her ninth novel which she hopes will be the one to finally see publication—one way or another. And she’s got another three, four, or a dozen in various stages of development so she’s never quite bored. She blogs every third Friday at Word Wranglers and you can find her on Facebook with just her name.

Child of Mine by Jana Richards

Welcome to Monday Writers at the Window, the new and occasional feature. My first guest is Jana Richards, a long-time writer friend and one of the Word Wranglers. Please make her welcome. 

Thank you for hosting me and letting me tell you about my Masonville series. STRONG ENOUGH, the fourth and final book in the series will release on June 22, 2022, so I’m taking this opportunity to talk about the other books in the series as well.

From the beginning, I knew I wanted to write about overcoming problems and deep traumas, and I wanted to show how love might help heal those wounds—love from a romantic partner, of course, but also love from community, family, friends and even pets. And especially learning to love yourself. The characters in this series often come from a place of deep shame, and part of their healing is coming to believe that they are good, decent people who are worth loving.

In CHILD OF MINE, book one of the Masonville series, Lauren’s shame is that she becomes pregnant on the day of her husband Billy’s funeral when she sleeps with Billy’s older brother, Cole. Cole’s been her friend since they were teenagers, and they connected because of shared anguish and anger. But now that she’s pregnant, everyone in her small town assumes the baby is Billy’s. How can Lauren overcome her shame and tell the truth?

Lauren didn't intend to sleep with her brother-in-law Cole on the day of her husband's funeral. But now that she is pregnant, she's not sorry. Cole's given her a baby, a long-wished-for miracle. He's been her friend forever, though she never told him or anyone else how unhappy her marriage to his cheating brother was. And she's afraid to tell the small town that considered her husband a hero that the baby isn't his.

Cole's been in love with Lauren since he was sixteen. It kills him that everyone believes the baby is his dead brother's. All he wants is to claim the baby, and Lauren, as his own. Though she marries him, will Lauren's heart ever be his?

Lauren must tell the truth or risk losing Cole. Is her newly-discovered love for him greater than her fear of scandal in her hometown?

Here are Five Things You Need to Know About CHILD OF MINE:

1.      Cole and Lauren have known each other since they were teenagers when Cole tutored Lauren in chemistry. They stayed friends through the years, even after Lauren married Cole’s younger brother, Billy. And even though Cole has been in love with her all these years.

2.      Billy dies in a car accident, and Lauren comes back home to North Dakota to bury him. She’s angry and grief-stricken and filled with guilt. She had a terrible fight with her cheating husband before he died. Did their fight cause him to lose his concentration on that Georgia Interstate?

3.      Cole’s a veterinarian and Lauren is a bookkeeper. Cole helps Lauren get a job at his clinic as the receptionist/bookkeeper.

4.      Mia, a former girlfriend/mistress of Billy’s, also works at the veterinary clinic and she’s determined to cause trouble for Lauren.

5.      CHILD OF MINE is set in North Dakota. Though I live directly north of North Dakota on the other side of the 49^th parallel, both areas are part of the Great Plains of North America. I’m a true lover of the prairie landscape. To me, the endless skies and vast vistas are awe inspiring. Don’t let anyone tell you it’s boring!

 

Excerpt:

Cole wrapped her in his arms. He held her securely, whispering reassurances. “It’s all right, Lauren. Don’t cry. It’s going to be okay, sweetheart.”

 

She clung to him, her face buried against his neck. How wonderful to be held, to be touched. It had been so long—

 

What was she doing? This was Cole, her friend. She pulled away from him. “I’m sorry.”

 

“You don’t have anything to apologize for.”

 

She turned away and tried to wipe the tears from her face. After she got her tears under control, she made herself smile at him. “Do you remember the homecoming dance? The time I tripped in my new high heels and sprained my ankle?”

 

“Of course I do. You couldn’t walk, so I carried you from the school gym to Billy’s car, and he drove you home. I remember you were a lot heavier than you looked.”

 

She swatted his shoulder, hiccupping laughter mixing with her tears. “Very funny. I was trying to make a point.”

 

He wiped the tears from her cheek with the pad of his thumb, his dark eyes full of tenderness. “So what was your point?”

 

“You’re a good friend. You’ve always been there every time I’ve needed you, and here you are again. Thank you.”

 

He stared into her eyes, but said nothing. She couldn’t look away. He continued to stroke her cheek with his thumb, the tiny caress acting like a balm to her battered heart. She placed her hand on his cheek.

 

 “Cole.”

 

They reached for each other in mutual need. He pulled her against his chest, his mouth descending on hers in a hungry, urgent kiss. She sighed against his mouth, and he brought her closer. He wants me. It had been so long since someone had wanted her. Only her.

 

Buy Links:

CHILD OF MINE is on sale for .99 cents at Amazon from May 6-20, 2022. Download your copy today!

The Wild Rose Press ~ Amazon.com ~ Amazon.ca ~ Amazon.UK ~ Amazon.au ~ Amazon.de ~ BN

iBooks ~ Kobo (US) ~ Kobo (CA) ~ Google Play ~ Walmart ~ BookBub ~ Goodreads

 

STRONG ENOUGH is currently available for preorder. Have it automatically delivered to your ereader on June 22, 2022!

Charlotte Saunders has a full life—a rewarding career as a nurse, meaningful volunteer work at a dog shelter, and family, friends and pets she adores. But no matter how hard she tries, she can’t forget the horrible event that’s haunted her for ten years.

A survivor of childhood sexual abuse, Damon Greyson now helps others who have suffered trauma. His experience and intuition alert him to trouble in Charlotte’s past, and he wants to help her, if only she’d let him.

As they work together to help veterans suffering from PTSD and neglected dogs needing loving homes, their feelings for each other deepen. But when the trauma from Charlotte’s past roars back to life, both are forced to confront their painful histories—or die trying.

Buy Links:

Amazon ~ Amazon CA ~ Amazon UK ~  iBooks ~ BookBub ~ Goodreads

 

Author Bio:

Jana Richards has tried her hand at many writing projects over the years, from magazine articles and short stories to full-length contemporary romance, paranormal suspense and romantic comedy. She loves to create characters with a sense of humor, but also a serious side.  She believes there’s nothing more interesting then peeling back the layers of a character to see what makes them tick.

When not writing up a storm or dealing with dust bunnies, Jana can be found pursuing hobbies such as golf (which she plays very badly) or reading (which she does much better).

Jana lives in Western Canada with her husband Warren. You can reach her through her website at http://www.janarichards.com

 Social Media Links:

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Amazon Author Page:  http://www.amazon.com/author/janarichards

Amazon UK Author Page:  http://www.amazon.co.uk/-/e/B002DEVWWG

Newsletter Signup: http://janarichards.com/contact.html#newsletter

Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/2892274Jana_Richards

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