#SampleSunday In Which Susan Finally Confronts Philip

Pier at Charleston's Folly Beach

     The door opened wider, enough for me to fit myself in the narrow space between the frame and the door edge. I slid inside and watched as he pushed the door shut, redid the lock and poked the chain into its slot. I glanced around, glad it wasn’t me living at the budget motel. The room smelled of mildew and old food wrappers. The rug was so worn I couldn’t be sure there was actually a rug or if I was just looking at random fibers glued to the concrete. The bedspread—ragged, mouse colored, stained—hung crookedly off the side of the bed. Motel issue lamp, phone, and nightstand completed the decor. No sign of a TV, though there was a broken piece of plastic that might have once been part of a TV stand bolted to the floor.

     Philip held out his hand like a kid expecting me to slap a chocolate bar onto his palm on Halloween Night. “What are you waiting for?”

     I scowled. “You’re not going to get money from my mother or from anyone else in my family.” My voice trembled ever so slightly. Not what I’d hoped for, but I was doing okay, already feeling an adrenaline rush. “I know all about wife number—whatever. Could be twenty for all I know. The new one in a hotel across the river. I’m sure she’d love to teach you a lesson. I’m sure she’d love to know you’re already married to Lurlene, who is no doubt sharpening her knife back in Arkansas at this very moment. In fact, I’m sure Lurlene is wondering when you’re coming home. I have her number and I will call her right now if you don’t stop harassing my mother. What I really ought to do is call the police, but out of respect for Mama’s feelings, I’m going to hold off on that.”

Patty would have been proud of me. The voice tremble had melted away to be replaced by the authoritative tone of someone in charge of a situation--a police officer or even a judge.

    Philip’s face twisted into a reptilian sneer. I wanted to slap some respect into him.

“I’m not afraid of a bunch of stupid women. I happen to know that Regina, the stupid cow, would jump off the nearest bridge before she’d let me tell her new sweetheart about her past. Her reputation means the world to her, and that’s as good as money in my pocket.”

We Interrupt This Date

#SampleSunday My Planet or Yours

   This week I'm giving readers a sneak preview of my new chick lit/sci fi romance book, My Planet or Yours. This excerpt is from Chapter One. Space traveler Triskam is from the planet Darvanius. He's just crash landed his pod on planet Earth.         

            Damn. Who would have thought an ordinary space traveler would end up flat on his back staring up at the sky of a world millions of light years from his own? With no way of returning, he might add.

            The crew on the Sheloni would monitor transmissions and finally conclude the pod had crashed, but for now they were keeping on the other side of this planet called, he remembered now, Earth. They wouldn’t know he'd managed to safely land. There were those among them, primarily Garrick, the ship's second officer, who’d consider him a coward for pushing that stabilizer button. Technically he hadn’t pushed it. One of his limbs had hit the thing while he’d tumbled about the pod’s cabin. But, he admitted to himself, he'd made the decision to survive and would certainly have stabilized the craft and deployed the landing system on purpose if he could have.

         Eventually he pulled himself to a sitting position. He had no serious injuries, though he was banged up from the wild tumbling about in the pod. He pulled his Personal Pilot out of the pouch strapped around his waist and ran his fingers over its smooth, silver-colored surface. It appeared unharmed, thank goodness.           

            He flipped it open. "Pilot, what is my whereabouts?"

            "Earth, Commander."

            "I have told you before. I am not a Commander. My rank is Lieutenant."

            A brief hesitation and then the pilot's voice replied. "You are my commander, sir."

            "Right." Pointless to argue with a machine. He wasn't the one who'd programmed the thing. "Why are you speaking in an Earth language? It is permissable to speak Darvanian. There are only the two of us here."

            The pilot had understood what he'd said in Darvanian, but it had replied in English. Triskam had studied that language and, being that he was his ship's language specialist, had more or less mastered spoken English. His people had been monitoring this planet’s transmissions for as long as the planet had the technology to transmit.

            "One of my circuits was damaged when you crushed me with your posterior region against a panel of the pod before stabilization. I cannot reach my other language boards."

            Triskam blew his breath out sharply. Not good. He hoped the pilot was otherwise undamaged. He'd need it to survive.

            "Sorry. The crushing with my posterior region was unintentional. Where on Earth have we landed?"

            "United States. Arizona. Mostly an area of uninhabited desert. Why have you landed, the craft, Commander? Landing is a clear violation of Space Service directives. You have committed a grave crime."

            "We will discuss that later. Right now I have to think."

            "Violations of Space Service directives are very serious and should be discussed now."

            Triskam rolled his eyes. "What are you, my nanny? Get busy performing diagnostics on yourself." He snapped the pilot shut and returned it to his pouch. 

#Sample Sunday We Interrupt This Date

Downtown Charleston

Sample from Chapter Two of We Interrupt This Date. Susan is having lunch with her friend Veronica. Veronica is dismayed to learn that Susan is going on a blind date arranged by her flaky friend, Patty. 

My casual shoulder shrug and my sudden interest in watching a couple of restaurant patrons stroll by were admission enough. Veronica knew I hadn’t been anywhere lately except to yoga. It wasn’t like I was going to arrange a date with a stranger I crashed my cart into at the Publix grocery.

“Wait, don’t tell me. That New Age person you work with is the one who’s hooking you up. That can’t be good. I imagine her taste in men runs to long-haired, ascetic types with dark, soulful eyes. They all read tarot and teach meditation classes, go to Nepal on vacation, and wear necklaces made of healing crystals.” Veronica sighed from the bottom of her soul. “Susan, Susan, Susan.”

“It’s true that Patty got me the date with her boyfriend’s cousin,” I said reluctantly, “but he’s not a meditation teacher, he’s an insurance salesman.”

Patty and Veronica had only crossed paths once, months ago, when Veronica stopped by my office to leave off an invitation to her niece’s baby shower. Patty was wearing gold hoop earrings and was dressed in her usual style--floor-length crepe, rainbow-colored skirt and matching blouse. Her jet-black hair hung to her waist in ropy coils, so she looked like one of those carnival fortunetellers. She’d made the mistake of offering Veronica a half-priced tarot reading because she looked like she was “having man problems.”

“I suppose she consulted the pagan gods first. I’ve never had a blind date in my life and I certainly wouldn’t let someone like Patty arrange one for me.”

She’d told me once that needing to have someone fix you up was an admission of failure and God knew I didn’t need something else to make me feel like a loser. I love Veronica dearly, but even she admits she tends to view the world in black and white and she can be less than tolerant of viewpoints that differ from her own. Not for the first time I pondered the whimsy of fate that had brought me a best friend who had so much in common with my mother.

No, I’d chosen Veronica and fate had nothing to do with it. The answer to the question of why I’d made that choice drifted out of my grasp.

Veronica put her cup down and signaled the waiter. “You know you’re wasting your time going on a blind date when you’ve already found someone on your own.”

Mama couldn’t have put it better herself. But if Jack Maxwell were sitting here, he’d have said, “Go for it. You can’t win if you don’t enter the race.”

I shook my head. I knew I was thinking about Jack only because Mama had tried to fix me up with a man this morning. There’s something about coming out of a year long fog that causes a lot of random thoughts and buried memories to pop up when you least expect or want them to.

“You never know how things will work out, Veronica. Besides, like you said, I need a starter date to get me off and running.”

We parted at the door. I wished she hadn’t been so negative about my date, so willing to believe it would be a waste of time.

I allowed my imagination to wander. Patty’s boyfriend’s cousin might turn out to be my soul mate, even though I hadn’t really wanted to go out and only agreed to shut Patty up. And because Everybody Loves Raymond reruns had lost their appeal. And because—just because I was tired of being predictable, soft touch Susan, who wasn’t special to anyone.

We Interrupt This Date

#Sample Sunday We Interrupt This Date

Excerpt from a random chapter of We Interrupt This Date. Susan has just lost her job and desperately needs another.

I logged on to the Internet and started my job search with the online newspaper ads. I found only three positions to apply for, and two of those asked for legal office experience, which I did not have. The other said someone with a good phone voice was needed immediately in a vet’s office. I supposed my phone voice was as good as anyone’s. My fingers shaking, I punched in the number.

“I’m calling about the receptionist position you advertised in the Post and Courier.”

“Right, that ad is pulling a ton of responses. Before I decide if I should have you come in to fill out an application and talk to the doctor, tell me a little bit about yourself. Do you have receptionist experience?” The female voice on the other end of the line sounded like it belonged to someone who was pursing her lips between each sentence.

I glanced at my desk searching for inspiration. Once a customer had come into my office and paid in person. Another time, someone had stood in the doorway and asked if Odell was around.

“Sort of,” I replied. “In my current position I’m responsible for answering the phone and doing the billing as well as dealing with customers who drop by.” Both of them.

“Okay, you work in an office; good for you. But do you have veterinary office experience? Dr. Turnbill specializes in reptiles and he likes to hire people who are used to handling animals.”

“No, but I love animals and I learn fast.” I could even learn to love snakes and lizards if it got me a job. “My mother has two Chihuahuas,” I added, then clamped my mouth shut so I couldn’t say anything else stupid.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t see any point in letting you come in. We have a number of better qualified applicants.”

Better qualified applicants? Somehow I doubted the streets of Charleston were overrun with reptile handlers who had office experience. But unless I decided to stake out Dr. Turnbill’s office and speak to him when the dragon manning the front desk left for the day, I wasn’t going to get the job.

I sat back with a sigh. It had taken me six weeks to find this job and that was back when the paper carried three times as many ads as it did now. I could apply for the two legal office positions--assuming the gatekeepers who controlled access to the applications would let me--and hope for a miracle.

If there was only me to consider that’s what I might have done. But I couldn’t forget my son. Even with his scholarship, money from his father, and a part-time job, Christian needed my help.

I turned sideways to face the phone. I glared at it like it was my mortal enemy. When it didn’t burst into flames or melt into a wad of gooey black plastic, I gave up and dialed Veronica’s number. Her voice mail answered with a cheery, “Veronica is unavailable. Please leave a message.”

“It’s me. Susan. I, uh, had second thoughts about the job.” And third and fourth thoughts. “If you still want me, I’m ready to go ghost hunting. In fact, I guess I really need the work.” There, I’d committed, even if Veronica’s offer wasn’t my first choice.

I felt curiously employed now, even though I worried that Veronica might have offered the position to someone else. Once she makes up her mind to do something, she forges ahead like a bull on its way to a willing cow. 

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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We Interrupt This Date for Sample Sunday

Short Excerpt from a Random Chapter for Sample Sunday

Skills or no skills, I couldn’t go into business with her. T. Chandler was a successful businessman, but he hadn’t exactly left me rolling in riches when we split. I discovered, too late, that he’d found a way to legally transfer most of his assets out of the country. I was left to cling to the house I’d gotten in the settlement—not yet paid for—and a small savings account, along with an alimony check that didn’t cover expenses. I’d had to refinance the house and take the first job I’d been that came along--an office position in a loan company slash pawnshop.

“To be honest, you probably think T. Chandler Caraway, the cheating weasel, left me pretty well taken care of, but that didn’t happen. I don’t have a dime to invest. Thanks for thinking of me, though,” I finished lamely.

Veronica drummed her fingers on the table. The last word I uttered barely had time to clear my lips before she said, “I didn’t, for one second, think that bastard would have given you more than he absolutely had to. You should have shoved him out in front of a bus and collected his life insurance while you were still married.”

A pink-sneakered woman at the next table choked on her soup of the day. Veronica shot her a mind-your-own-business look.

“Veronica, there was no husband murdering as you well know. So the fact remains, I have no money and it isn’t fair to ask you to take all the risk.” I held out my hands, showing empty palms.

“I’m willing to put up the money and you’ll supply the time and energy. Case closed.”

She’d made her plan sound as foolproof at the blueprints to a doghouse. But then, I still didn’t know what she had in mind. I pictured a trendy antique shop on King Street or Broad, not that I knew anything about antiques. Maybe a gift shop or a boutique. Not that I was an expert on gifts or fashion, either. Oh, God, what could I do? Veronica was kind, but I couldn’t let her do this. I’d been told I was a terrific mother, but unless Veronica planned to open up a daycare, that wasn’t exactly a plus in a business venture. Besides being the mother of one spoiled son in college didn’t qualify me for working in childcare, either.

I shook my head. “I can’t. But I have to know--this business would be?”

“Ghost tours.” She pasted on an “everything’s settled” expression and folded her hands in front of her like a tiny tent. 

We Interrupt This Date is on Red Adept's Top Indie Books of 2010 List!  http://redadeptreviews.com/

I Can Take a Hint

New cover for We Interrupt This Date


Based on input from readers and reviewers, I've gotten a brand new cover for We Interrupt This Date that more accurately reflects the tone and content of the book. The first time around, I told the cover designer I wanted to focus on the Southern fiction/family aspects of the plot and I was wrong. It turned out that the book is selling better as chick lit/romantic comedy. Paul Coleman http://bookpumper.com/  designed the new cover. I think he did a fantastic job. Now we'll see if readers feel the same.


About the book: 
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 returns 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 comes home 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.


A short excerpt:


Patty finished ringing up a sale and waved from behind her register. “Thank God, Odell’s finally outta here. What’s going on?” She sashayed out from behind the counter to lounge against the doorway to my office.


“Nothing.” I put my fingers on my keyboard and glanced at her sideways.


She reached up and tugged her hair clips loose, letting her black hair fall from the loose pile on top of her head to a full cascade down her back. She’d once told me that there comes a time in every redneck woman’s life when she has hair down to her butt. Then she’d planted her hands on her hips and said, “Honey, except for my interest in the occult, I’m as redneck as they come.”


Odell makes her wear her hair on top of her head because he’d once had a cashier who caught her ponytail in the register and she threatened to sue when she had to cut a chunk of it off to free herself. But whenever Odell leaves early, Patty lets her hair down. In more ways than one. Now she turned on the radio Odell keeps on a shelf against the wall and danced and swayed in the doorway to Heartbreak Hotel.


“Need something, Patty?”


“Just curious. You’ve been in such a scatterbrained mood all afternoon. Carrying your mama to the doctor doesn’t usually have that effect on you, so I assume it was something your friend, the tight-assed businesswoman, said over lunch. Let me guess. She’s finally figured out money won’t buy her love, so she’s going to share with you in the hopes that will get her some points with the relationship gods and they’ll send her a decent man to warm her bed.”


I shook my head in mock sadness. “You’re awful.”


“I’d go home and burn some candles, but I’ve already forgiven myself for my bitchiness. Now tell me what’s got you smiling.”


“I told you, I’m simply in a great mood.”


I hadn’t realized I was smiling. But I didn’t dare tell Patty about Veronica’s plan to take me away from all this. It had come to nothing, but Patty couldn’t keep a secret if her lips were stuck shut with Super Glue.