Joy left home at 18 with a boy her minister father didn’t approve of. Joy and Mike marry in Vegas and arrive in LA. Shortly thereafter Joy discovers she’s pregnant and before she gives birth Mike is killed in a motorcycle accident. Broke, pregnant and widowed, Joy calls home. Her father, Art, says, “You’ve made your bed. Now lie in it.” He hangs up on her.
Look, I fed you. I didn’t call the cops on you. And there’s a good chance that will come back to bite me on the ass. I presume you were wearing shoes when you arrived. So get them. Put them on and skedaddle.” He waved in the direction of the door.
Hallie crossed her arms. “No.”
He leaned forward and crossed his arms on the table, his eyes boring into her. “Let me get this straight. You’ve been living under my bed. For two days.”
She lifted a shoulder and let it drop. “Well, I wasn’t under the bed the whole time. Only when you were here.”
Yes, I know I write romance novels, and maybe some would say, how does God inspire you to do that? The answer is, “I don’t know.” But I believe the themes of love, redemption, forgiveness, etc., come from Him.
Does God Talk To You? I’ve been in another publishing funk of late where I’ve really begun to question the wisdom of continuing to write. Why? I whine to myself like a grouchy two-year-old. Why, when there are so many aspects of indie publishing I abhor, am I still doing…
Picky Reader Reads Again I used to do Picky Reader blogs about the books I read for pleasure. I’d say whether I liked the book or didn’t. But as an author I decided I probably shouldn’t be critical of other authors’ works. Even though I tried not be too critical.…
I told myself not to get attached to my story no matter how cute it was. Or to the characters no matter how adorable they were together. Because I was going to sell my little baby and no one was ever going to know this baby was mine.