Sample Sunday Exciting News!

We Interrupt This Date wraparound cover. 

Exciting News: Now on sale for $.99! We Interrupt This Date made Red Adept's Best of 2010 in the Romance/Chick Lit category. 

Book Description: Since her divorce a year ago, Susan Caraway has gone through the motions of life. Now she is finally coming out of her shell. Just when she decides on a makeover and a new career, her family members decide she's crisis central. First there’s her sister DeLorean who has come back from California with a baby, a designer dog, and no prospects for child support or a job. As soon as DeLorean settles in at Susan’s home, Susan’s son Christian returns from college trailing what Susan’s mama refers to as “an androgynous little tart.” Then there’s Mama herself, a southern lady who wrote the book on bossy. A secret from Mama’s past threatens to unravel her own peace. But not before Mama hurts her ankle and has to move into Susan’s home with her babies—two Chihuahuas with attitude. Susan would like to start her new job as a ghost tour operator. She would like to renew her relationship with Jack Maxwell, a man from her past. But Jack isn’t going to stand in line behind her needy family.

Here's a short excerpt for your enjoyment:

“Let’s step into my office, Ms. Caraway.” Odell turned and strode purposefully away from me.     

      “Step into your office?” Except for yesterday when he scolded me for not getting to work until after lunch, he hadn’t called me Ms. Caraway since the day of my interview. I was always Susan or, when he spoke to customers, “the office girl.”

    I trudged after him. I caught a last glimpse of Patty mouthing “sorry” at me before I turned the corner near a shelf sagging under the weight of electronic equipment. Yeah, no doubt the Universe was sending Patty a forgiveness ticket this very second.

    Odell’s office was twice the size of mine and twice as cluttered. He swept a pile of Reader’s Digest magazines off a chair by the door and motioned for me to sit.

    I would rather have remained standing. The chair he indicated was hemorrhaging wads of cotton stuffing, which would look like hell plastered to my navy slacks. I could tell it was going to wobble—one of the wheels was missing.

    Odell glared until I sat. Then he half-hopped to lift himself onto his over-sized desk. A taller man would have perched on the edge, at least one foot on the carpet. But Odell’s legs dangled over the side, his feet not touching the floor. Even so, he'd achieved what I figured was his goal. He was now taller than I was. Height advantage to Odell, score one to nothing.

    “When did you plan to give notice?”

    “Give notice?” I winced. I was making a habit of repeating what he said to me—in the form of a question. T. Chandler used to do that and it drove me crazy.

    “If my niece didn’t need a job, I’d really be in a bind. I have too much to do around here to handle your work, and then I find out you’re walking out on me.”

    I cleared my throat. “Odell. Mr. Hoganboom. I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.” Only a tiny lie.

    “Word has reached me that you’re going into business for yourself. Ghost hunting.”

Word had reached him? He made it sound as though a disembodied voice had whispered in his ear when we both knew the information had come from Patty’s big mouth.

    “No, of course not--it isn’t happening. I was totally not myself last night when I drank too—never mind. That whole ghost hunting thing, it’s just a joke.”

    He steepled his stubby fingers. “What are you saying?”

    “Joke,” I said. “Meant to be funny, not meant to be fact. I have no intentions of quitting this job.” Yet. First I had to find a new position.

    “I expected you to deny everything. But my trusted source has told me you’re fixing up an old mansion, trolling in tourists to look for ghosts, all that woo-woo stuff.” He held his hands up and waggled his fingers. “I’ve already found a replacement for you. My niece Brenda finally left her no account husband and moved here from Atlanta. She’ll be at the shop in the morning to take over your office. I’ll give you a week to get her trained.”

    “You’ll do what?” This couldn’t be happening. I sat wobbling in the chair, my head spinning, and my thoughts not making sense, until the smug-faced Odell slid off his desk and pointed to the door.

    “You’re fired,” he said. “Dismissed as of next Wednesday. Go.”

    My mouth turned into the Sahara Desert. Score a million to nothing Odell. How would I pay my bills? 

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