He’s science and tradition. I’m nature and new age. We clash at every turn.
I don’t know who I am anymore.
I broke the heart of someone dear to me because I couldn’t love him the way he deserves. I threw away a chance of happiness because I can’t stop wanting a man who has proven that he doesn’t know how to love me.
When it comes to my patients, I’m an eternal optimist. Maybe that’s why I’m determined to try one more time with Deacon.
As long as there’s life, there’s hope. And hope is all I have.
I don’t know what to do.
I thought I’d lost the woman who haunts me, body and soul. I was sure that she was in love with someone else. I was prepared for the pain, again. I was braced for the hurt. But I was wrong.
I have one last chance with her. If I screw it up this time, I’ll lose her forever, and if that happens, I know I’ll also lose my only hope for happiness.
I never give up on a patient. And I’m not giving up on us.
Is there anything that goes better with football than food? The perfect Super Bowl gathering this Sunday has to include recipes that are delicious, fun and easy to eat. Each dish is the perfect opportunity to score big for the home team!
The top five must-serve football foods for the 2020 season are:
I’ll be serving all these dishes this Sunday as we enjoy the game! I think Leo, Quinn and the rest of the gang would approve of this menu!
Over the past three years, since my husband’s ministry launched, we’ve had a lot of garage sales. Honestly, we’ve always been a family who did sales about twice a year, but when having one can mean the difference between eating and not, they tend to take on a different meaning.
I have often been guilty of just dragging out the stuff we’re selling and determining price when someone’s interested, but for today’s sale, I actually spent time organizing it, pricing it and having everything set up on tables so that I could just open the doors at 8 AM. I posted an advertisement on Craig’s List, listing a bit of what we were selling.
This morning at 7:30, I went out to finish up the last few things before opening the garage door. When my husband came in from a quick grocery store trip to get coffee, he told me there were three cars parked outside, and someone had asked him if we were opening at 8 on the dot.
That isn’t entirely unusual; particularly if you advertise certain items, early birds will show up. Still, I decided that since I was all set, I’d go ahead and start opening the door a bit early, at about 7:50.
I was not prepared for what met me. People standing outside the door began pushing in, all of them yelling and asking me where the jewelry was. I had had the foresight to keep the more valuable pieces inside, so no one could get to it, even as they attempted to begin combing through items on the tables, as my husband and I tried to move things out.
It was bedlam. Once I’d moved the tables into place, I brought out the pricier jewelry. And then things really got interesting.
People yelled. They grabbed. I was scratched on the arms as each one tried to snatch up his or her fair share–or more. They fought with each other. They were nasty, mean-spirited.
In the end, while I sold all of the pieces save one, I’m sure I was taken advantage of in terms of price, because I was completely overwhelmed and almost sickened by the entire process.
In all of my years of hosting sales, I’ve never seen anything like this. I’ve met quirky people; I’ve certainly met pushy customers who have tried to get me to lower the price on things that they knew were valuable. I’ve met those who bordered on rude. But most people who frequent sales are kind, generous, friendly and interesting. We’ve been especially impressed by how many people are supportive of the ministry and eager to help us keep it going, or at least want to know more about our mission.
Today was beyond the pale.
It wasn’t long before all of the ravenous gold buyers had left, and one man who’d arrived later lingered. He’d seen the tail-end of the feeding frenzy and asked me about it. I told him a bit of the bedlam, and then I offered to let him look at the one remaining ring I had, the piece that had been at the center of much of the contention.
He examined it and handed it back to me. “Your price is right on,” he told me. “Don’t let them talk you down.” A few minutes later, he left and then came back with an official gold scale, weighed the ring for me and showed me the value, proving that what I’d been asking for wasn’t unreasonable.
In the face of so much greed and nastiness, he was kind and generous with his time and information.
A little while later, a lady who’s been at my past sales came by. We chatted briefly about the jewelry vulture experience, and then she said, “Well, hopefully you made enough to make your rent.”
I sighed and told her that we hadn’t yet. She nodded.
“I’m not a religious person,” she began. “I don’t really believe in anything. I don’t go to church. But I was here before, and I heard you telling someone that everything works out. You said that God had taken care of you before. I remember you saying that. If he did then, I think he will now, too.”
My breath caught because this woman was saying precisely what I needed to hear, at the moment I needed to hear it. She didn’t buy anything, but she actually gave me more than anyone else did today.
As I sit tonight, considering how the day went, I could focus on the people who swarmed me early in the morning. I could be sad that we didn’t sell more, that my porch is filled with unsold items that will be donated later this week.
Or I could be grateful for the man who reassured me that I hadn’t held out too long on the price of the ring. I could focus on the woman who reminded me that it’s going to be okay, who reminded me of my own words. I could appreciate that we did make something toward the amount we need.
You don’t have to be religious or even spiritual to choose your point of focus. You just have to shift perspective . . . make the choice to see what is positive. I’m not preaching here. I know how hard life can be. Trust me.
But I’m going to do my best to look at the sunny side whenever can. Won’t you join me?
Who doesn’t love a love song? Especially a love song that’s crooned by Hunter Jaymes, the hottest new star in country music?
Tori Westin doesn’t have time for love songs. Now that she’s finally moved off her parents’ farm and ditched her cheating, lying boyfriend, she’s ready to start life on her own terms. Those terms definitely do not include falling in love with the sexy and irresistible Hunter. Yes, he’s the kind of guy who makes her laugh, takes her breath away with a single touch and tempts her to imagine what could be . . . but he’s also not planning to stick around Burton.
When Hunter looks at Tori, he sees the possibility of forever. The road is his life, and she feels like the home he craves. Convincing Tori to give love a chance will take more than a romantic ballad, but Hunter knows they belong together.
Now he just has to convince her.
Enjoy a little sneak peek from THE LOVE SONG GIRL:
I trailed him up the wide staircase, our footsteps muffled by soft carpet. At the top, Hunter paused, his fingers fidgeting with the strap of the bag he carried.
“So . . . I have a housekeeper.” He said it as though it were confession of sin, and I couldn’t help giggling.
“That’s okay, Hunter. It’s perfectly acceptable for you to have someone helping you here. Hell, if I could afford one, I’d have one, too. I promise, I don’t think any less of you. No judgement here.”
He rolled his eyes. “That’s not what I mean, smartass. What I was going to say, if you’d let me finish, is that I asked my housekeeper—her name is Betsy, and she’s great—I asked Betsy to get one of the guest rooms ready for you. You know, change the sheets, vacuum, whatever might be involved with that.”
I nodded. “All right.”
“But the thing is, if I’m being honest like I promised, I don’t want you to stay in that guest room. I want you to stay in my room. Sleep in my bed, even if all we do there is sleep. I don’t want to be that far away from you when you’re only here for three days. If that makes you uncomfortable, I understand. We didn’t discuss expectations for your visit here, not the way we did when we were in Burton.”
I smirked. “You mean when I was crystal clear about no sex over those two weeks?”
“Yeah, exactly that.” He regarded me steadily. “I didn’t ask the question, because I was afraid to hear an answer I didn’t want to hear. But I should be more like you, I guess. I should have asked.”
I dropped my purse onto the floor, where it fell with a thud onto the polished hardwood of the hallway, and I took a step toward Hunter. “Ask me now.”
The tip of his tongue darted out to swipe across his lips. “Tori, will you sleep with me in my bedroom? No.” He shook his head, correcting himself. “What I mean is, will you do more than just sleep with me there—will you let me make love to you in my bed, the way I’ve been fantasizing about doing from the minute I came back home from Georgia?”
I held his gaze. We were both serious now, both intent and focused on the words between us. “Back in Burton, my rule made sense, because we didn’t know each other. We knew more by the time you left. And now, we know even more.” I eased forward. “I still like everything about you, Hunter Jaymes. I flew on that plane all the way here to be with you, not for any other reason. All I’ve been thinking about is being with you. So if you don’t plan to take me into your bedroom, right now, and drive me out of my ever-lovin’ mind the way you did over the phone the other night, I might just burn up from the inside out. And it’d be a shame to leave a scorch mark here on your lovely wood floor.”
Tawdra Kandle writes romance, in just about all its forms. She loves unlikely pairings, strong women, sexy guys, hot love scenes and just enough conflict to make it interesting. Her books include young adult and new adult paranormal romance, new adult and adult contemporary romance and adult paramystery romance. She lives in central Florida with a husband, kids, sweet pup and too many cats.
And yeah, she rocks purple hair.
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