Lessons in Overthinking, Undermining and Second-Guessing It’s how many books later? Twenty? And as I review the formatted eBook version I ask myself, Is this just stupid? Will readers think…
“I remember the first time he brought you around. I was half in the bag at the time—hell, maybe more like three quarters of the way in, but I remember. He stood up a little straighter, tried to act like a gentleman, even if he didn’t have any idea what that looked like.”
This!—>>I write stuff sometimes and I think I'll post it and then I don't and then I think it's dumb or somebody said it better already. :)
Although it was inspired by friends of mine who have five daughters, one of whom is named Stephanie, and one of whom (the youngest) had a Christmas wedding, I'm not sure why I decided to write a romantic Christmas novella.
“I’m so grateful the author decided to publish this “manuscript under the bed”. It is filled with loss, torment, hope, action, and suspense that this reviewer could not put down. Recommend highly!”
She knew the rules. She knew she’d broken a couple of them. She knew she was in trouble. She’d just guaranteed herself even less freedom than she’d had before. God, she was stupid.
Hot guy has breached the neutral zone, shouted her internal alarm system.
Jack was there. But he wasn’t the vivid Jack of her waking memory. The Jack with the black hair and laughing eyes. Not the larger-than-life Jack who’d swept her off her feet when she’d been a naïve eighteen-year-old, the one she’d married, the one who’d been her whole world.
CLEO'S WEB Chapter One “Edgar Allen Poe. You come here. Ow! Dammit, Poe. Aunt Gertie will have my hide in a sling if something happens to you. Although, personally, I’ve…