I’m our group’s Resident Big Mouth. That’s where the quote came from.

There are a million great things about being a writer. And one of those great things that I happen to love is that I get to wear whatever I want to work. Wanna work in my PJs? No problem! Feeling a little fancy? Dig out that ball gown from two birthday balls ago and let’s get to work.

Okay. You can guess how often I actually worked in a ball gown. Once. Not a fan.

But I do work in my PJs, or sweatpants, pretty much daily. I figure…why wear pants that require a button or zipper of I don’t have to? Plus, I’m lazy. Let’s face it. And if I can get through the day without changing, why bother? (I’m sure my husband has a fantastic, snarky comment here but we’ll pretend he’s mute and move on.)

Then came the day when I realized that, although this is a fantastic perk, this is also a bit of a Catch-22. See, if you’re like me, you take advantage of this Wear Your PJs To Work situation more often than not. And it gets to the point that literally, your dog recognizes when you are leaving the house because you put jeans on.

True story.

The other day, I had to run an errand. I had been working for a bit, and so I got up, stretched, and went to the bedroom. The dog, naturally, followed me. Likely hoping I was crawling into bed for a mid-morning nap. (I never do that.) (I do that often.) But instead, I got out a pair of jeans and traded my comfortable, flannel PJ bottoms for my jeans and a pair of shoes.

I look around, and the dog is gone. I go looking for him, and yes. I found him in his cage. Waiting for me to shut the door. Because when we leave the house, he has to go in his cage. Why did he go in there without me telling him?

Because he saw me put pants on. So naturally, this meant I was leaving the house.

Pants = leaving the house.

I should be mortified. Instead, I gave him a cookie for being smart…for once.

Dan sat with his back to the headboard, watching Anna wake slowly, surfacing through the darkness of her dreams into the light of the bedroom. He always loved watching her wake in the morning. Sleepy-eyed, with flushed cheeks and a confused look like she didn’t know where she was waking up or why. She’d moved in to his place two months earlier, though they’d spent enough time at her place before that to know she woke the exact same way in her own bed.

“Morning, sleepyhead.”

She screwed her eyes shut and tried to pull the covers over her head.

“Nah, not today. It’s Christmas. We have things do this morning before we get to your parents’ house.”

She sat up slowly, as if she were sixty years older than her real age. With a cough, she reached for the bottle of water she left on her nightstand and took a drink. Not that it helped when she spoke. Her voice was still rusty. Drove him crazy with lust to hear it every morning. “We head to see your parents first.”

He loved her for that—and a million other little things—that she so easily mentioned seeing his parents, despite the visit being to a gravesite instead of a cozy home. She never complained, only found a bouquet of flowers to bring and held his hand through each trip.

“Yes, my parents first.” He kissed her nose, because he couldn’t resist.

“But what else do we have to do?”

“Presents. Ours.”

She shook her head and took another sip of water. “We do gifts at my parents’ house.”

“Naturally, the bulk of the gift opening will commence at the Smith residence. But I thought you might want to open this one just by ourselves.” He reached under the bed and grabbed the wrapped box, setting it in her lap. It was the size of a shoebox—because it was a shoebox—and it landed on the comforter covering her legs with a thump. The paper was a little uneven, and he’d had to use more tape than he wanted. Hell, Anna wrapped all his gifts for him because she didn’t trust him not to mangle it. Gift wrapping…so not his thing. But this, this he did himself. Even if it did look like a drunk preschooler got a hold of the scissors and tape…at least he’d done this one alone.

She gave the box a bemused look. “Stick to gift bags, babe.” But she pulled at the tape on one corner before stopping. “I left your gift at Mom and Dad’s the last time I was there. It’s under their tree. I don’t have anything for you to open now.”

“That’s fine.” He nudged the box a little. “Keep going.”

With a sigh that spoke a thousand words—several of which informed him she would indulge him this once, but don’t pull it again—she opened the gift. And came up with another box. “Oh Lord. You didn’t, did you?”

“Didn’t what?”

“Wrap fourteen different boxes,” she asked, holding up the much smaller box that almost fit into the palm of her hand. Well, it would have, if she didn’t have such small hands. It was sort of comical how big the small box still looked in her delicate hand.

“Honey, if you think thirteen more boxes will fit in there, you’re mistaken.” No, he hadn’t. The only reason he wrapped it up in the shoebox was to disguise the obvious shape of the real gift, which she would have recognized immediately as—

“Oh, Dan,” she breathed.

Yeah. That.

Cracking the lid to the small box, she stared at the ring. He took it gently from her lax fingers and removed the band itself, then shifted until they were facing each other.

“Let me get this all out, and then you can talk. Okay?” With her nod, he kept going. “It’s not your two year mark yet. I know that. But I want to do this now. Before you hit the two years. Because I want you to know that I don’t care what happens tomorrow, or next week, or next year, or next decade. You are the most important thing in my life and I love you. So I wanted you to know, before your time was up, that I want you no matter what happens. There are no guarantees in life, and I’m fine with that. As long as you’re with me.”

She opened her mouth and he stalled her with a finger over her lips. “Not done yet.”

Her eyes narrowed but she settled back, silent.

“Every family has traditions for Christmas. The past several years, mine was to sit around alone, let myself slip into a horrible attitude, and alienate everyone around me. Or just escape to some vacation spot where nobody knew me. That was the shittiest idea I’ve ever had. So I want to start a new one. One where I wake up next to you every Christmas morning. And I get to remind you how much you mean to me. How much I love you.”

Anna’s eyes glazed with tears, but he just wasn’t finished yet.

“So, Anna Jo Smith, I need to know. Are you ready to spend the rest of your Christmases with the Grinch?”

She laughed, then covered a hand over her mouth as if she couldn’t quite contain it otherwise. Then she nodded, but immediately shook her head afterward.

“Which is it?” he asked with a smile.

“Just you. I don’t want the Grinch. Just Dan.”

“He’s available.”

She threw herself into his arms and snuggled against him. “Best Christmas ever.”

“I’ll work on topping it next year.”

_______________________

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Hubs found a spider with its body the size of a quarter (not counting legs here, people) making itself comfortable in a web it spun ACROSS our back door. Like, if you weren’t watching, you’d walk right through the web. It took up half the door, not exaggerating. He knocked it down and I yelled at him to kill it.

Hubs: Hell no.
Me: Why not???
Hubs: Because it would eat me.
Me: I’m sorry, WHO is the Marine in this situation? Just KILL IT! I’ll get a shoe.
Hubs: *sigh* I’ll just use the corner of Tot’s patio chair. *picks up chair*
Me: NO!!!! That’s awful and gross.
Hubs: You were going to use one of your shoes.
Me: Like hell. I was going to get one of YOURS.

It then crawled between two planks on our deck and settled there. It’s like he knew neither of us were going to use our fingers to get it. I watched it settle in, still clearly visible but not killable with the corner of the chair or a shoe. And I could just hear the bastard plotting.

They’ll all go to sleep, and they’ll forget I’m even here. And when they’re asleep and vulnerable…I strike. You shall rue the day you attempted to murder me, humans.

So, being the rational, logic-using adult I am…I boiled water and made Hubs pour it on the spider. It’s still there…it didn’t wash away (unfortunately). But Hubs is like 84% sure it’s dead…and cooked. So we did some nice critter a favor by cooking its lunch for it.

I’m still not convinced it’s not still alive and plotting though…I think I should make Hubs sleep across the doorway of the bedroom tonight. Just in case.

It’s been a few months…but a crazy time so I can’t really be blamed, right? But that’s okay, because I’m back and I’m sharing a very recent release as my newest Reading Recommendation! This month is A Lady by Midnight, by Tessa Dare.

A Lady by Midnight is the third book of the Spindle Cove series. This is one that doesn’t need to be read in order, but of course, like most series, it does enhance the enjoyment if you do. I enjoyed the other books of the series, but this was the book I’ve been waiting for.

Kate Taylor was born with a wine-colored mark on her temple. To some, this is an abomination. To others, it doesn’t even exist. She is simply a lovely friend and a staple of the community. She found her place in Spindle Cove, teaching music and enjoying the camaraderie. As an orphan, she has never grown up knowing her family or familial love, and she doesn’t expect anyone to love her in the future. But she does value her ability to take care of herself, and she does quite well at it.

Corporal Thorne (whose first name we don’t learn until late in the book) has been watching Kate from a distance since he came to Spindle Cove with the militia. He recognizes her from the past, but prays she doesn’t remember him in return. If she does, her illusions of both her past and present will be shattered. It’s best if he avoids her altogether to give her little chance for memories to creep in. But unfortunately, he can’t quite seem to leave her alone. He’s drawn to her, and not in a nostalgic way.

When a band of interesting strangers traipse into the sleepy town claiming to be Kate’s long lost relatives, Thorne sets himself as Kate’s protector and steps in to claim her as his fiancée. He claims it’s in name alone, and Kate can throw him over later when things settle down again. But his kisses don’t say “in name alone” and neither do his touches. He ignites wants and desires in Kate she can’t ignore. And despite his insistence they hold back and call off the engagement, Kate pushes to become lovers.

Thorne is perfectly imperfect. He’s not exactly the “good guy posing as a bad guy for the sake of the plot.” He really WAS sort of a bad character, though I think it’s understandable given the environment he was raised in. But he admits it, makes no bones about it, and is honest and up front about his shady dealings…at least as an adult. Kate is wonderfully matched for him. She’s confident in herself and knows what she has to offer and what she wants. She doesn’t need a man, but she wants Thorne specifically. They were so fun to watch, and this book had some hilarious quotes as well.

Tessa Dare always seems to make me emotional over her characters without turning me into a crybaby. It’s a great mix of humor and sensitive moments, action and mystery. And there were some fabulous, hilarious lines in this one that had me laughing out loud. I’m a huge Tessa Dare fan and I don’t see that changing anytime soon.

To see previous Recommended Reading posts, click HERE!

Standard Monthly Disclaimer: I am not affiliated, nor do I receive payment/compensation for, any recommendations I give on my blog or any other social media outlets. These opinions are mine alone and I receive nothing for them but the pleasure of sharing books that I’ve enjoyed with other romance readers. All books I include in my monthly Recommended Reading posts were either paid for myself or borrowed from a local library.

Me: You were supposed to come out here an hour ago to watch TV with me.

Hubs: You should have come check with me. If you want to watch this, you should clearly state that’s what you want to do. Clear communication is the best kind.

Me: Clear communication is the best kind? What crap is that?

Hubs: I’m sorry you feel that way. Can you explain?

Me: No, I don’t want to. You just need to know that was really stupid. Now I want donuts. *stares pointedly*

Hubs: This is not productive. Instead of saying that, perhaps you could say…

Me: I’d rather have a Little Debbie snack cake?

Hubs: *sigh* No. You should have said “I would like you to get donuts, please.”

Me: Why should I have to say what I mean? We’re married.

Hubs: That’s effective communication.

Me: I really hate the weeks when you have self-improvement classes at work.

Hubs: Why?

Me: Maybe I just win more arguments when you don’t take these stupid courses.

Hubs: You admitted you lost. Why are you smiling?

Me: It proves we are just fine together naturally. So we should stop trying to improve upon perfection. There’s nowhere to go but down. We should stay where we are.

Hubs: No. That’s not what it means.

Me: If your instructors told you that, they were just trying to sell you something. Like knowledge. Run.

Hubs: I like using my brain.

Me: I liked you better when you were just pretty.

Artwork…we haz it. Everywhere. Now that Tot is in preschool (the real deal, not “pre-preschool”) she comes home with a masterpiece almost every time. And boy is she proud to show it off. And who could blame her? What child wouldn’t be proud to show off a pumpkin such as this?

He's had a rough day...

Okay to be fair, that was from her 2 year old class. But clearly she was ahead of her time. Just look at the abstract qualities…

But at 2, she didn’t know if the artwork ended up on the fridge or in the Dumpster outside our apartment. And to be honest, since I’m not all that nostalgic, I took pictures of a few of the cutest ones and chucked the rest. What are you gonna do?

Now that we own our own house again, we have more freedom (and more space!) to do what we please. And at 3.5, Tot is well aware of when her masterpieces go … missing. So it was time to devise a way to get all that clutter beautiful artwork off my refrigerator and somewhere that she could be proud of.

Here’s what I started with:

Start your crafting engines

• Mod Podge (My favoritest craft ingredient evers)
• a piece of scrapbook paper
• wooden clothespins
• a piece of trim (cut to the size I want by the lovely people at Lowe’s, where I purchased it)
• Gorilla Glue (super glue…not pictured).

I suck at remembering to take pictures along the way, so just follow me. I traced the front of the clothespins onto the back of scrapbook paper, then cut those out. I then Mod Podged that onto the clothes pin. (Follow the directions on the bottle. It’s pretty simple.)

I let that dry overnight, and then the next day I put a coat of Mod Podge over the top of the paper. It dries clear, so don’t worry. This just gives it a protective coating for durability.

I painted the trim white, because that’s what all of our trim will be once we get off our butts and do it. And I picked trim rather than some simple, flat board because I thought it would look more interesting. Once that was dry, I figured out how far apart I wanted my clips. I basically put them so that they were close enough that one piece of computer paper could be clipped vertically by two, and horizontally by three. (Did that make sense?) So my pieces of trim were 3 feet long, and I put seven clothespins on there.

I used the Gorilla Glue to put the pins on there, letting it set overnight. Directions on the glue bottle say it sets in 30-60 minutes, but I wasn’t taking any chances.

In the morning, I used Command strips to hang it to the wall where I wanted it. Why Command strips? Because I actually did this project prior to my Who Needs A Hero? weekend, and I wasn’t yet comfortable with the power drill and wall anchors. Now, of course, I’m a power tool stud. (No, I’m not.)

Unfortunately, I didn’t have enough power to properly affix the wood to the wall. So then this happened:

Devastated, isn't she?

So later, Hubs had to go back and fix my boo-boo. I know, I know. Who needs a hero, right? But this was basically the project that inspired me to go all Betty Badass. If you decide to do this…just screw the darn things into the wall. Don’t be stubborn like me.

Here’s the final result!

In all its glory

And a close up of the clips:

See the pretty?

That stupid, bumpy texture on the walls is what made it so hard to use the Command strips. Just FYI.

So there you have it. Tot now has a lovely place to display her artwork in her play area, where they are seen by everyone, but not in my kitchen or cluttering up my fridge. She loves it and now she brings me home things from school “For the wall.”

Enjoy!

Yesterday you had Chance Numero Uno to enter for a chance to win a PDF copy of my November release, No Mistletoe Required. I know, right? Advance Reader Copy? Who doesn’t love feeling special and getting something ahead of the pack? Now today is your second chance! Are you ready?

Answer today’s question in the comment section of the blog so you can earn your second chance at one of the two copies I’m handing out! And because they’re emailed PDFs, naturally, it’s a worldwide phenomenon. (AKA: open to anyone, not just US residents.)

Today’s question: Talk to me about Christmas movies. Do you have a favorite? One you can’t stand? Don’t like any of them?

My favorite is White Christmas. I watch it at least five times every holiday season since I was a teenager and I have yet to get bored with it. Seriously, there’s something about that combination of four leads that works for me like perfection and I just smile thinking about it.

I might have to put on my flame suit and duck from rotten fruit for admitting this next part but…I hate A Christmas Story. I hate the narration and I just can’t find the humor in it. And I can find humor in a lot of stupid movies. So there it is. My Christmas secret…I would rather shoot my eye out (see what I did there?) than watch A Christmas Story.

I leave you with an excerpt and a reminder to answer the question in the comments section so you’re entered! Winners will be emailed on Tuesday, October 9th, so watch your inboxes and spam folders!

“Why don’t you do that thing you did last time and take me to the bedroom like a caveman?”

“How about we hang out here for a bit?”

She shrugged, then an idea came. Slowly, the smile spread. “We could watch a movie.”

“Now you’re thinking.” He shifted and walked to her entertainment console. “What movie?”

“White Christmas.”

His hand froze halfway to the stack of DVDs, and a little tendril of smugness spiraled into her gut. Take that. Now he’d take any chance he could get to whisk her away to the bedroom. Back on even ground.

But then he found the DVD case and popped it in the player. “Can you believe I haven’t seen this one before?”

“Uh, kinda.” He sat back down and settled her against him so her legs draped over his lap and her head rested against his chest. “I think the surprise would be if this was your favorite Christmas movie.”

He was silent for awhile as Bing Crosby began singing in his army uniform for his fellow soldiers. “I guess I don’t have a favorite Christmas movie.”

Preorder: Amazon Kindle | Nook Book

Add it to your Goodreads shelf!

It’s a little under a month to my next release, a novella ebook titled No Mistletoe Required. You can probably guess, it’s based around the Christmas season. (Shocker, no?) Since this is the season of giving, I’ll give you all two chances to win an ARC (Advance Reader Copy) of this book! (Comes in PDF format.)

I’ll choose two winners for a copy of the book. They might both come from today’s post, or tomorrow’s post. Answer both days’ questions and you’re entered twice for a chance. Answer one, you’re entered for one. Answer none and, well, you’re just being silly. Winners will be notified Tuesday, October 9th.

Today’s question: Do you have a memorable experience with Santa Claus? Either playing the guy, watching your kids meet him, you as a child, anything!

When I was about six or so, right as kids started to no longer believe, Santa paid us a visit on Christmas morning. Sure, he walked through the front door, but I was told he had arthritic knees and took the easy way when he could. Being six, I totally bought it. I also bought it because, unlike my dad “mysteriously” disappearing while Santa showed up, Dad was sitting right next to me. So it wasn’t him, and it wasn’t Mom. And we lived nowhere near family, so no uncles or grandparents. Santa handed me a Care Bear, and I loved that thing.

Turns out, it was a neighbor. And later in the morning, Dad disappeared to play Santa for HIS kids. So that’s where that came into play. But man, I believed in Santa for way longer than others in my class did, because I could say “It wasn’t my dad…it was real!” Great memory, and the awe in my face in those photos is priceless.

I’ll leave you with an excerpt from the book…

He cupped her face in his hands, felt the tension vibrating her entire body, and took a chance by leaning down to press a soft, quick kiss to her lips. “Calm down. I don’t know where he is, but until he gets here, I’ll fill in. What did you have him doing? Carrying? Lifting? Organizing?”

She bounced on the balls of her feet, and he recognized adrenaline when he saw it. “You will? Seriously? You’ll fill in?”

How the hell could he possibly say no to that? “Yeah, of course.” It was then he realized she was wearing the most odd combination of clothing he’d seen her in. More odd than her misshapen, oversized sweatshirts. She wore a tank top, even though the air in the rec room was cool, a pair of gym shorts, running shoes, and red and white striped tube socks reaching up to her knees that vaguely resembled candy canes. “What’s with the outfit?”

She glanced down a moment, as if she didn’t even remember what she was wearing and had to check. Poor thing. “Oh. Part of my costume. I’m not done yet obviously. Not getting dressed until the last minute so I don’t mess up the costume.”

“Ah.” He should have known she would have been right in the thick of things as far as costumes. “And who are you, head elf?”

She laughed. “No, nothing quite like that. I’m actually Mrs. Claus.”

He could see her in the role easily. Then, when her smile only grew, he had a feeling in his gut that he should have run when he had the chance. Cautiously, he asked, “What exactly was Geoff signed up to do, again?”

She broke into a full out grin. “Santa Claus.”

Make sure to answer the question in the comments section! Off you go, little elves!

Pre-Order: Amazon Kindle | Nook Book

The meat and potatoes of the project! Two days ago, I purchased my supplies, which was an adventure in and of itself. Yesterday I did a lot of the dirty work…or so I thought. Yesterday was a BREEZE compared to today. But that’s okay. Today I painted the area. That’s pretty obvious, so I won’t bother you with the details there. It ended up looking like this:

I waited for it to dry. And after that, I started the process of putting up a shelf. Why a shelf? Remember, there was a big hole here from where the Cancer Box resided. And we’re probably waiting a year or so before knocking down the tile and drywall. At that point, we will likely hang a new, full cabinet rather than the mini one that is there. But for now, I wanted something in that space because it’s just so empty!

Here I am, ready to start using a power tool! Look at me. I’m all Betty Bad Ass.

And here I am, ten minutes later, when I realize I goofed and need a hammer to knock some anchors into the walls. Note: You can’t just drill into dry wall. You will make a boo-boo. Or two. Or seven… Not so Betty Bad Ass…

After a quick Skype chat with my critique partner and her husband (Shhh, don’t tell Hubs!) I was back on track. I hung the shelf with a medium amount of fuss, and was actually pretty stoked about my skill set at this point. Now it was time to clean up and decorate. Or, well, okay not decorate. But set things up. It’s going to be a coffee station! At least, until we change things around. Eventually it’ll hold a cinnamon shaker, some sweetener packets, cute mugs for the season, and a few K-cups. But this was all I had on hand tonight.

Let’s do a little side by side comparison. Those are my favorite!

Is it perfect? Not even close. The repair job wasn’t amazing or perfect, and I accidentally drilled too many holes for the shelf so I have to go back and spackle those. But it’s a hell of a lot better than what we had to begin with, which was a nasty hole and a big empty space. So I’ll take it!

And then I decided, since I was practically an expert now (HA!), I’d tackle one more small job. I hung a paper towel holder thingie (technical term, yeah?) in the laundry room. After quickly punching in the anchors (look at me, I’m so smart…)

I managed to hang the holder thingie with almost no fuss. Less than ten minutes, really. I’m extremely proud of myself for that one. Two weeks ago, doing this single thing by myself would have taken an hour. But after that stupid shelf in the kitchen, I’m feeling much better about my skills.

So there you have it. Hubs comes home late tonight, and I guess we’ll see what he thinks of the job I’ve done. Odds are, he’ll have something to say about it. But if he’s smart, he’ll make them POSITIVE things.

And I’ve learned some important things about myself. 1.) I can do more stuff than I let myself think. 2.) I don’t always have to do them to know I can…it’s okay to let Hubs take this crap on. I happen to like painting and picking out pretties… and 3.) I have awesome friends who are willing to Skype with me and waste their time just to make sure I know how to properly insert a drywall anchor.

So there you have it. What I gleaned from my project. I’m glad I did it! And I’m glad Tot got to watch Mommy learn something new and challenge herself a little bit.

(If you like crafts or home improvement projects, here’s a Link Round Up of a lot of great fall projects and other things of the sort.)