Weekend Writing Warrior – 3/22/15

Hi all! I’m back with a few more lines from my current work in progress, Play Dates. It’s a contemporary romance about a woman whose little niece helps her snag the man of her dreams. I hope you enjoy them!

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“Most boys don’t play with dolls, honey.”

“Some do,” a deep voice interrupted.

Gripping Emma’s arms to steady herself, Monica whipped her head around. She knew who that voice belonged to before she spotted him standing near the faux rock-climbing wall. Saturdaddy number one. Mr. Tall, Dark and Dreamy. He stared straight at her, his chin lifted high and his eyes narrowed to slits. Cripes, he was even more gorgeous up-close.

****

That’s all I have for now. Be sure to check out all of the Weekend Writing Warrior posts here.

Happy Sunday!

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Monday Mayhem – Kicking names and taking…

I have to tell you, I had a killer awesome weekend writing-wise. I started a new project called Play Dates. Yes, I know, you wanted Hooligans next, but trust me when I tell you that there’s a whole bunch of convoluted reasoning behind the switch in schedule. Anyhoo, I started Play Dates this week, but didn’t have a lot of time to get words in. So, I scheduled some play dates of my own.

First, I hooked up with my pal, Parker Kincaid, for pastries and pantsing at Panera. No, that doesn’t mean we pulled each other’s drawers off. It mean we both write by the seat of our pants. Fueled by bagels, danish, and toffee-nut cookies, we managed to put up some respectable numbers in the old word count column.

But then on Sunday, I took part in this:

retreat

As I type this, we are in the dinner/break portion of the day, and I am proud to report that I have over 4k for the day!

Between sessions, I did a little stint on the elliptical (part of the Body by Gilmore Girls program-I’m on ep 3), threw together some crock pot salsa chicken with black beans, ran to the store, and frolicked outside with the puppies.

I hope to get at least another 1000-1500 words this evening, and round out chapter 2. Jewels has totally kicked butt too. We’ve decided that we like having more defined writing times. Eyes on the prize and all that.

How was your weekend? Hit any goals? Take any naps? Share! I like to live vicariously. 😉

Oh! And starting this week, I’ll have a new feature on my blog – Teaser Tuesdays. These will give me a chance to introduce you to some of my writer friends and their latest projects.

That means this joint is jumping at least 5 days a week. Remember to stop by for all the fun:

Sunday – 8 sentence challenge

Mondays are Mayhem

Teaser Tuesday

Whatcha Reading? Wednesday

Fangirl Fridays!

Oh! Oh! Don’t forget to add your email address to my newsletter list. I have combined Margaret and Maggie’s previous lists and will start moving most of my future contests, excerpts and giveaways to the newsletter mailings thanks to Facebook and other social media outlets restricting the fun stuff, so be sure to hit then newsletter sign up on the sidebar if you aren’t already on there. 🙂

Happy Monday!

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Weekend Writing Warrior – 3/15/15

Well, I’m trying another project on for size. I’m calling it Play Dates and I’m hoping it will be the first in a series featuring single dads. Here’s the scene in which our heroine, never-married-never-wanted-to-be, Monica Rayburn first spots Colm Cleary whilst on an outing to the park with her niece.

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Monica Rayburn inched closer to the picnic tables littered with diaper bags and juice boxes and lifted her cell just a centimeter higher. The angle was just right. Years of after-work happy hours had allowed her to acquire a skill most people never master—the sly snapshot.

A quick glance at the enormous play structure mounted in the center of the playground verified that her niece, Emma, was safely ensconced in one of the numerous hamster trails that lead from one slide to another. Wiggling her thumb over the screen as if frantically typing a text, Monica tipped the phone up just enough to ensure that her quarry was centered in the frame. The whir of a fake shutter marked her success, but just in case, she gave the photo a surreptitious glance as she lowered the phone.

Perfection.

Now all she had to do was determine the handsome hunk of a man leaning against the wide trunk of an oak tree was predator or parent.

****

That’s all I have for now. Be sure to check out all of the Weekend Writing Warrior posts here.

Happy Sunday!

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Weekend Writing Warrior – 3/8/15

I’m starting new things! Of course, that means multiple projects in the works until one grabs some traction. Here are a few naughty lines I wrote to open the sequel to my September release, Going Deep. This one is called Flip This Love.

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“That’s it, suck, Sugar.”

The tips of his fingers dug into the valley of her spine. Her nipples puckered. A thin stream of hot moisture escaped the corner of her mouth and trickled down her chin.

“Oh yeah. Suck harder.”

Fingers tangled in her hair and tugged lightly, a tiny jolt that sent a lightning bolt of white-hot desire streaking straight through her. She dropped the empty crawfish shell to the sheet of butcher paper in front of her and stared up at Harley Cade  slack-jawed as he dropped into the chair next to hers.

****

Hee! Welcome to Mardi Gras in Mobile. Who’s up for a little friendly banter at the annual crawfish boil? That’s all I have this week. I appreciate you stopping by to read. Be sure to check out all of my fellow Weekend Writing Warriors!

 

 

 

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Weekend Writing Warrior – 3/1/15

Well, will you look at that…March. Huh. Guess I should stop feeling so smug abut having all my February posts done. I’m in the middle of prepping two manuscripts for submission. Eep! Here are 8 lines from Bossy Pants – the sequel to Three Little Words.

Three Little Words_Maggie Wells

The implication hurt more than he wanted to let on. They’d spent over a week practically living in each other’s pockets and she still believed the gossip more than she believed in him. In them. “I’ve never said anything like that to any woman,” he replied, keeping his tone as even as possible. “I told you before, I believe this is Fate. You are my Fate.”

“I told you already, I believe we make our own Fate.”

“Then I’m asking you to choose me. Make me your fate.”

That’s it from me this week. I hope to wrap up work on both Bossy Pants and Full Court Press this week, so hopefully I’ll have fresh new words on a brand new project in weeks to come!

Be sure to check out all of my fellow Weekend Writing Warrior posts.

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Weekend Writing Warrior – 2/22/15

One last dose of Full Court Press. Next week, I hope to have fresh new words to share!

“I’d be happy to offer any advice you might need.” She pitched her voice loud enough for their audience to hear. “You know where to find my office, right? Straight down the hall past the four NCAA championship trophies and turn right at Naismith awards.”

Turning her brilliant smile on the rapt reporters, she gave a jaunty wave and bounded up the steps, her long legs eating up concrete with the same gusto she’d exerted in smashing his ego.

“Oh, and if you reach the case with my old jerseys and the Olympic team photo, you’ve gone too far, but you’ll find your way eventually.” She nodded to the reporters and the Athletic Director then homed in on him once more. “Welcome to Wolcott, Coach.”

That’s it for this week! Be sure to check out all of the Weekend Writing Warrior posts!

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Weekend Writing Warrior – 2/15/15

Here are another 8 sentences from Full Court Press. Women’s Basketball Coach, Kate Snyder, is not pleased about the hiring of NCAA bad boy, Danny McMillan, as Head Football Coach.

Had days of denials done the trick? Had they sent one of their interns over to cover what they thought might be a non-story? Could the powers that be at the largest sports network in the nation been so easily fooled, or was it simply that they’d taken one shot then decided anything having to do with Wolcott Football was beneath their notice?

Did Mike Samlin truly think he could hire the bad boy of collegiate athletics, at a purportedly astronomical salary and not have that come back to haunt him at contract time?

Oh, hell no.

She was a Wolcott Warrior and a champion. These men thought they could waltz into her world and take what they wanted. Well, they had another thing coming.

That’s it for this week! Be sure to check out all of the Weekend Writing Warrior posts!

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Weekend Writing Warrior – 2/8/15

Hey all! I’ve been huddled deep in the revision cave working revision on not two, but three manuscripts. I’ve written a new beginning for Full Court Press (the collegiate athletics battle of the sexes story). Here are 8 lines:

“I can’t tell you how proud the entire Wolcott Warrior nation is at this moment…”

The Athletic Director’s words faded to background buzz as Kate Snyder surveyed the crowd assembled in the too-tiny conference room. Never in all her days as a player or a coach had she seen so many media outlets assembled in one spot. Well, maybe when she played in the Olympics, but certainly not on home turf. Women’s athletics didn’t get the big coverage. Granted, she didn’t see Musberger or Costas in the crowd, but National Sports Network had sent their golden boy, Greg Chambers. Something was up. Something juicer than a NCAA title.

That’s it for this week! Be sure to check out all of the Weekend Writing Warrior posts!

 

 

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Weekend Writing Warrior – 2/1/15

Okay, one last bit from Spring Chickens (just because I love Lynne and Bram so much) and then I promise to move on:

A muffled curse followed by a loud thump made his smirk fade into a satisfied smile. He pressed his ear to the door, listening for the whisper of her feet against the floorboards. His fist met wood again, urging her to move faster.

“Come on, sugar, the sun’s up.”

He glanced over his shoulder, checking to be certain the horizon wouldn’t prove him a liar. The locks tumbled and the door swung open. The woman he loved glared at him from under tangled clumps of golden-brown waves.

He smiled. “Good morning.”

SpringChickens-MEthridge-Md

 

SPRING CHICKENS

You don’t have to be a spring chicken to fall in love

***

Bram Hatchett thought he buried his heart with his wife, but when a big city beauty blows into town to dispose of the family farm, she captures everyone’s attention. Particularly his.

Lynne Prescott’s former marriage was marked by her husband’s infidelities and doomed by the secrets and lies he left in his wake. Disillusioned and adrift, she seeks refuge in the simplicity of small town life.

There are few secrets in Heartsfield, Arkansas, but when a few loose boards on a rickety old porch bring them together, not even the combined forces of nosy neighbors, disapproving children and a disturbing decrease in the poultry population can stymie the attraction between the handsome widower and the intriguing divorcee.

But Lynne and Bram are both old enough to know there are no guarantees in life.

Can they set the fears of their pasts aside and learn to trust their hearts just one more time?

Be sure to check out all of my fellow Weekend Writing Warriors and see you next week!

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Weekend Writing Warrior – 1/25/15

Here’s a little more from my latest novel, Spring Chickens:

“Make your offer, Bram. The farm’s what you wanted all along.”

Her voice was scarily calm. So calm he couldn’t give her anything more than the bare-faced truth. “Yes, I want the farm,” he exploded. “It’s never been a secret. Everyone knows I planned to buy this land when it came up for sale.”

“Everyone but me.”

SpringChickens-MEthridge-Md

SPRING CHICKENS

You don’t have to be a spring chicken to fall in love

***

Bram Hatchett thought he buried his heart with his wife, but when a big city beauty blows into town to dispose of the family farm, she captures everyone’s attention. Particularly his.

Lynne Prescott’s former marriage was marked by her husband’s infidelities and doomed by the secrets and lies he left in his wake. Disillusioned and adrift, she seeks refuge in the simplicity of small town life.

There are few secrets in Heartsfield, Arkansas, but when a few loose boards on a rickety old porch bring them together, not even the combined forces of nosy neighbors, disapproving children and a disturbing decrease in the poultry population can stymie the attraction between the handsome widower and the intriguing divorcee.

But Lynne and Bram are both old enough to know there are no guarantees in life.

Can they set the fears of their pasts aside and learn to trust their hearts just one more time?

Be sure to check out all of my fellow Weekend Writing Warriors and see you next week!

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