And last, just for fun aren't these Doc Martens cool? You can get them in either brown or black at
http://www1.macys.com/catalog/product/index.ognc?ID=481274&PseudoCat=se-xx-xx-xx.esn_results for only $130.
Friday, October 7, 2011
Fashionista Friday: Boots
I don't know about you, but the coming of fall makes me think of boots. What do you think of these? They're my favorites. I like them because they're flexible which is more comfortable than most boots. You can buy them at
I also like these Ralph Lauren boots. They'd match a lot of different outfits. Buy them at
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Welcome, Cherie: Author, Mother, Wife, Teacher, and Breast Cancer Survivor
Perpetually busy, always loyal, hardly asleep, I’m a wife, mother, daughter, and sister who loves to bring a smile to other’s faces.
2.LOL. Most authors can relate to the busy part. What did you hope to accomplish with your books?
I hope to give someone an entertaining break from reality for a little while. Personally, I love a story that makes me feel good about the world we live in, and I think romance delivers that with every happily ever after. My ultimate goal is the satisfied sigh at the end of the read, though I may never personally hear it, I hope to accomplish that.
3. Well said! What is the greatest test you ever faced as a writer?
This interview. Just kidding, but the promotion of the book has been a test that I thought I studied for, but just found out, I had the cliff notes version of the wrong book. Truth is, I’m not complaining because I’ve wanted to be in this position for a long time. Happy to be here, even if it is a little tougher than I’d imagined.
4.It is tougher. I always thought when you wrote a book it sold itself. Wish it did. What’s the best advice you ever got about the publishing industry?
Be persistent! Never take rejection personally or as the end of your journey. Learn from it then move forward.
5.If you could meet two authors, which ones would you pick and why?
Only two??
Jane Austen is a definite. I would love to tell her how much her wit, humor, characters, and plots inspired me and lingered long after I closed her books.
Michael Crichton is another absolute. As an English major in college, I spent many an evening studying literature and sneaking thrillers like Andromeda Strain, Jurassic Park, and Timeline. This conversation would be strictly a huge thank-you for such great, edge-of-your-seat reads that kept me up nights when I really should have been studying or sleeping.
6.Lovely! I like to read a variety of genres myself.Could you share your links with us?
Twitter—http://twitter.com/cheriemarks
http://youtu.be/lXrDrRC1daMBook Trailer--http://youtu.be/lXrDrRC1daM
Into the Fire available at http://tinyurl.com/3mfn3zj from TheWild Rose Press, October 5, 2011
Into the Fire available at http://tinyurl.com/3mfn3zj from TheWild Rose Press, October 5, 2011
7.We’d love to read an excerpt.
Blurb:
Months after he stole her affections—then her executive chef position—Shyann and Luke meet again under sizzling circumstances, competing head-to-head on a televised cooking show called Kitchen Twist.
Cherie, I love the interaction between them! Readers, don't forget to follow Cherie's blog tour. She's giving away two $10 gift certificates to The Wild Rose Press and one $10 gift certificate to Amazon.com. She'll randomly draw names from commenters during the tour. The more times you comment, the more chances you have to win. Tour dates can be found at http://goddessfishpromotions.blogspot.com/2011/09/virtual-book-tour-into-fire-by-cherie.html
Author Bio.
It all started with an old fashioned typewriter. When my family brought it home, all those stories and characters rolling around in my head could finally get out. The press and click of the keys satisfied in their own right, but when I pulled out a finished page, I knew this was for me. Since then, I’ve graduated to a laptop, but the stories still find a way out.
I’m a breast cancer survivor, a teacher, a wife, a mother, and from the very beginning—a storyteller. Always a hint humorous and honest to a fault, I love to make people laugh and smile. My goal in life is to achieve tact and stop procrastinating. The battle wages on.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Welcome Lorena
Welcome to my blog! You've come at just the right time because I have a super guest today. Her name is Lorena Bathey who's an extremely skilled writer. Enjoy Lorena's post, and don't forget to pick up a copy of her book. I think you'll love it.
And the Kindle edition is on $.99.
And the Kindle edition is on $.99. What do you do when your life takes a turn you never suspected? Well if you're a mother of two, living in suburbia, in a supposed to be fairy tale marriage then you pull out the vodka and write about what's happening.
When my Mom got sick with cancer it was like a bomb went off. I'd never lost anyone close to me and now here my mom was gonna have to go toe-to-toe with the dreaded disease. As usual, I put up my dukes and prepared to knock out the disease. But it wasn't in my body, it was in my Mom's and no matter how hard I fought it was she that had to win the battle. When she passed away from breast and ovarian cancer in 2001, it was the beginning of changes that would mean I'd have to decide if I was going to sink or swim in the pool of life.
This loss of my mother was further exacerbated when my "fairy-tale" marriage finally flopped and I was left alone with two kids and hadn't been in the workforce in eleven years. This was when Happy Beginnings: How I Became My Own Fairy Godmother was born. I realized that I could wait for my fairy godmother to come and rescue me or I could go and rescue myself. The book narrates the road I walked discovering how loss, friendship, truth, and happiness illuminated how I had been sleepwalking through my life.
After the book came out, I spent the next few years helping other women find their inner fairy godmother. I was a speaker, radio show host, created the Fairy Godmother Conferences, and did one-to-one empowerment work with countless women. I also began thinking about Marissa, Andrea, and Beatrice. These names and characters began bouncing around in my brain until I wrote them down and ended up with half a novel.
Upon attaining Fairy Godmother status, I finally met the man of my dreams and together we decided to embark on a life rooted in following our passions. I had discovered what I wanted to do was write, so I picked up the half-way completed novel, Beatrice Munson, and finished it in a nine-hour writing session at Panera. Of course I was deliciously fueled with bread, cookies, and coffee.
In the decision to follow my bliss the muse descended and the ideas, characters, and plots of nine novels queued up. So, it was determined by a force far greater than I that writing is my work. It doesn't hurt that I get to do what I love and have a huge amount of fun doing it. A lot of the stories are based on places I've visited, people I've met, or just the whim of my imagination. My second novel, House on Plunkett Street is due out by November, 2011.
Synopsis for Beatrice Munson: In suburbia, Marissa Lyon's high school nemesis has moved in across the street. Afraid Beatrice Munson will cause Marissa to relive the insecurity of high school; she heads to Beatrice’s house armed with cupcakes. What Marissa finds is something she never expected.
How will Marissa and the women of San Martino deal with Beatrice Munson, whose defining moment in life was to get a boob job or go to Egypt. The story is about friendship, love, White Cosmos, drag queens, cupcakes, and great party planning.
In Vista Heights you might not only recognize the women, you might be one of them.
You can find more about Lorena Bathey and access to purchasing all her novels at www.LorenaBBooks.com and she is also at www.facebook.com/lmbathey and on twitter at www.twitter.com/lmmtoo
Excerpt from Beatrice Munson:
Chapter One - Reminiscing is Fun
Beatrice Munson was the girl you hated in high school. She epitomized the Noxzema Girl commercials that aired during Friday night’s Donny and Marie show. With bouncy blonde hair and laughing eyes, Beatrice was cute enough to be popular but smart enough to be geeky. She was the perfect illustration of grace at a time when grace was usually just something you said at the dinner table. Worst of all twenty years later, Beatrice Munson had just become my neighbor.
I lived on a cul-de-sac in a monotonous suburb of San Francisco. Here the houses took on the form of their owners, or perhaps the owners had come to look just like their homes – bored, tired and just like the one next door. I was recently divorced, in my forties, and while it sounded like just another sad fact, it was actually the best thing that had ever happened to me. I knew I was a statistic but I didn’t care. If I had to be a percentage point in a magazine poll, then it was worth the joy and pleasure that freedom brought.
My best friend lived down the street and we talked every day. Her name was Andrea and in her high school she had been the girl voted “most likely to own a corporation.” Unfortunately, Martin, her five-year-old had derailed Andrea’s fast track to CEO. Yet, Andrea still had the air of being in control of all aspects of her world. Surety and organization were her tools as she ruled over her home as the President and CEO. Knowing that I needed a competent and compassionate ear about Beatrice moving in I called Andrea. She answered the phone in one ring.
“Okay, you are not going to believe who just moved in across the street?” I blurted.
“Hi Marissa, oh…is it Imelda Marcos? Is she going to let you borrow her shoes?” Andrea chuckled at her bad joke.
“No. Beatrice Munson.”
“Who?”
“You know Beatrice Munson from my high school. Didn’t I tell you about her? I think I did. Remember she’s the one that had flawless skin and stole Jeffery Bennett from me.”
Andrea still did not seem as impressed with this vital news and I heard her distracted tone as she spoke to her son. “Martin, please don’t put the cat on your sister’s head.” This was followed by a wail and the sound of the phone falling to the floor.
Beatrice Munson. I felt the bitterness and anger of lost love in my mouth. When I had read the San Martino newsletter the week before and saw that Beatrice Munson had purchased the house across the street from me, I'd dropped the cup of fat burning tea I was drinking. Wedged between birth announcements and ads from former high school alumni was the article that was to alter the landscape of my life. I felt the feelings from high school ooze into my mind and heart. My anger at Beatrice felt raw and new even though it had been lying dormant in the vaults of my heart. I knew it was insane to feel the emotions of a teenager when I was middle-aged, yet I couldn’t stop the process. How would I survive if I had to live not only my teenage years surrounded by Beatrice’s perfection, but now I would be forced to stare at her bright and shiny complexion while the lines around my eyes deepened?
Life isn’t fair, I thought to myself. Because if life was fair I would be married to a hunky man who couldn’t take his eyes off me even if Beatrice Munson streaked naked down the middle of the street. Instead, I was an unmarried and overworked single mom whose highlight of the day was another sink full of dishes to wash. My world consisted of two children who often seemed to hate each other’s guts. None of this was the picture of suburban bliss I wanted to dazzle Beatrice with. It seemed fates cruel joke was to have me forage through my forties with Beatrice and her perfection living right across the street.
All morning I had been furtively sneaking peeks from various windows in my house which was keeping me from the weekly house cleaning and laundry. I kept going back to the clothes attempting to fold them, but I would see a window and make my way to spying since it was much more stimulating than housework. Someone moving in to this neighborhood was always interesting, but someone like Beatrice Munson moving in across from me was distressing.
I continued my sleuthing with the drapes drawn while exposing only one eyeball from my hiding spot. I kept hoping that I would see Beatrice while also wishing I wouldn’t see Jeffery Bennett. I never caught a glimpse of a lithe, blonde goddess but instead simply gazed at the backs of a few mangy looking moving men. My fate was sealed as I watched the moving truck pull away. Countless boxes were stacked in the garage and I wondered if Beatrice still had the red Hang Ten satin jacket and matching shorts I had been so envious of in high school. Did she still have perfect skin? Did she still chat with Jeffery Bennett? Worse, was she married to him?
Jeffery Bennett had been the cutest and coolest boy in high school. He had the rumpled good looks of Shaun Cassidy, coupled with the intrigue and aloofness of Fonzi, which made him incredibly enticing. I wasn’t the only girl in love with Jeffery in high school. Probably three-fourths of the female student body wished that Jeffery Bennett would choose their locker to stand by to flick his gorgeous brown hair. One day it happened and Jeffery stopped at my locker and chatted with me. I remembered how giddy and nauseous I felt as I stared into those brown and gold-flecked eyes. I wished for the moment to last forever with the Endless Love sound track welling up behind me. And that is when Beatrice Munson happened.
At my locker, I had just leaned into Jeffery to let him catch the scent of my Bonnie Bell Baby Soft perfume, when Beatrice slipped on a slimy shell of a sunflower seed on the floor and almost fell. She squealed as she slipped and Jeffery was off like a shot to rescue her from the germs and pestilence of the high school hallway floor. As his strong brown arms held her aloft, she looked up at him with her soft blue eyes and I knew that Jeffery Bennett would never darken my locker door again.
After the rescue, Jeffery and Beatrice were inseparable. They walked to class together. They ate lunch together. They waited together after school for their moms to pick them up. I’m sure that at night they whispered sweet nothings on the phone for hours, plotting how they would go to college together, get married, have perfect kids, and essentially have a blissful life together. It would have been sickening, if they just weren’t so sweet together.
I stood on the toilet craning my neck to see out the bathroom window while trying to get a better vantage point with which to see Beatrice unpacking her boxes. I didn’t see a man strutting around holding moving boxes aloft. There didn’t seem to be any children, since I did not see one piece of Fisher-Price plastic outdoor furniture. I had to know more. I needed better access. I wasn’t going to squelch my curiosity simply staring through windows all day. I ran down to the kitchen to see if I had the ingredients necessary to bake up a delicious decoy that would allow me entrance, and a chance to survey the situation at Beatrice’s new abode.
Forty-five minutes later, I had mixed cake mix with decadent chocolate pudding and an obscene amount of chocolate chips to create my mom’s recipe for the best chocolate cupcakes in the world. After they were dusted with powdered sugar, I put them on a platter and I checked my reflection in the mirror. I smiled while wiping a smudge of chocolate off my chin. I might be forty, but I believed I still had it…well…sorta had it.
The warm cupcakes I was holding reminded me of the night of the junior prom. My mom had agreed to stimulate the oily glands of teenagers by having me bring the same cupcakes to the dance. That was the first night that I had any actual contact with Beatrice Munson. Until then, she had just been a beautiful face in a crowd, one I wished I belonged to. However, that night I came face-to-face with my nemesis in the girl’s bathroom.
My date was Billy Jones. As unexciting as his name implied, Billy and I were lab buddies who decided that rather than be the social outcasts that stayed home on the evening of the junior prom, we would go together. After one dance where Billy tried unsuccessfully to feel me up, I had retreated to the bathroom where I tried in vain to stop the giant tears escaping my eyes hoping they wouldn’t cause my blue mascara to run. It was then that I heard the bathroom door open and the distinct sound of Bare Trap wooden heels tapping across the floor. I wiped my eyes, swallowed my last sob, and decided to make my getaway. When I emerged from the stall, Beatrice Munson was staring back at me in the mirror.
“Hello.” she said with her perfect smile.
“Hi.” I tried to hide the sadness in my voice but Beatrice picked it up.
“Are you alright?” she seemed concerned and her gaze never wavered from my face.
I lied. “Yes, just that time of the month.”
“Oh, I understand. You’re Marissa right? You’re with Billy Jones, right?”
“Yes, he’s my lab partner.” And my unexciting date, I thought.
“Are you guys going out?”
“No, no.” I waved my hands back and forth to emphasize this. "No, we’re just friends. You’re here with Jeffery Bennett, right?” Knowing full well that she was and wishing instead that it was me.
“Yeah, Jeffery’s sweet.” Beatrice said this with a strange expression on her face.
I expected radiance from being in love with the most gorgeous and most popular boy in school, but that isn’t what I saw on her face. Instead she looked, well, as if she was hiding something. The smile she gave was real, but her eyes seemed unconvinced of the truth. There wasn’t joy as much as acceptance.
“He’s more than sweet.” I found the words gushing from my mouth before I could censure it.
Beatrice looked at me with open surprise and interestingly enough, concern. “Do you like Jeffery?”
“Um…no…I mean…well, he’s totally cute.”
“Yes, he is.” Again, Beatrice had a very strange look on her face. I would’ve thought she would be smiling and enjoying typical high school feelings, but she seemed to display deeper emotions than I, a typical high school girl, could decipher.
“I guess I better get back or Billy will wonder what happened to me.” I made my way to the door, checked my feet to make sure there was no toilet paper attached, and left.
The whole encounter had me feeling that something was up in the perfect world of Beatrice and Jeffery. That created intrigue I couldn’t ignore. I needed to find out what was at the bottom of that funny expression on Beatrice Munson’s beautiful, clear skin. Why did she seem so far away when she looked in the mirror? I wanted to understand the enigma that was the most popular girl in school.
Instead, I walked out to my date that was on his fourth cupcake of the night given the wrappers on the table in front of him. Billy’s prepubescent face was riddled with zits and I didn’t think my mom’s super chocolately cupcakes were going to help. I made my way over to him as he dropped the cupcake in his hand on the table and grabbed my hand to lead me out on the dance floor. I guess he figured a real live cupcake was better than a baked one any day.
Now standing on Beatrice’s porch, with cupcakes still warm on the platter, I realized that I’d yet to ring the doorbell. I felt the odd sensation in my stomach that I usually experience whenever someone mentions they have a friend they want to set me up with. It’s a subtle mixture of fear, dread, and wanting to run. Why was I nervous to ring Beatrice Munson’s doorbell twenty something years after high school? I was not the gangly, insecure teenager with braces on her teeth and tissue stuffed in her bra anymore, was I?
I pushed the bell listening for footsteps making their way to the door, but all I heard was a faint muffled voice. I rang the bell again. The voice got louder and less muffled. I listened validating the voice had said, “Come in.” I reached for the door handle and opened the door. The walls of the house that had previously belonged to the Sherlock family were painted a ferocious green color. It always had been a bewildering feeling whenever I entered their home, as if you were stepping into the cave of a leprechaun rather than into the home of a suburban family of four.
“Hello.” I called out. I heard the voice again but this time a shade louder, “In here.”
I made my way to the kitchen. I would soon be face to face with the girl who had dashed all my dreams in high school. I wondered if she would still be as pert and cute as she had been in our teens. I secretly wished that she had lost all her hair and grown a third eye as that would have made it much easier to be nice to her.
I was unprepared for what awaited me in the kitchen. As I turned the corner, I was taken aback. The room was red. Shocking, bright, unimaginable, red! And standing with her head halfway into a cupboard, was Beatrice Munson. This was not the Beatrice Munson that I had been envisioning. This Beatrice Munson had blonde hair sticking out all over her head where it wasn’t secured by a bright pink scarf. This Beatrice Munson had on a muu muu. Yes, a straight-from-Hawaii-neon-floral muu muu. The colors that covered Beatrice’s body were perplexing as they all competed for attention. The vibrancy and uniqueness made me unsure where to look. Yet even with all the hues and tones going on, only one focal point was for sure, and that was the beauty of Beatrice’s face.
Beatrice Munson had changed. Boy, had she changed. As she straightened up and looked at me, I realized right then and there that the dramatic change in Beatrice had been completely for the better.
Sunday, October 2, 2011
Welcome Gordon Kessler
And speaking of Gordon, welcome to the blog. For the benefit of those who haven't read your marvelous book can you tell us a little bit about yourself?
Gordon Kessler] Thank you for hosting me on Hope. Dreams. Life… Love. I’ve been writing fiction for over twenty years. I enjoy writing thrillers because of the emotional roller-coaster ride they create, and I try to include a good amount of romance and mystery with each novel. My second novel Dead Reckoning is a mystery thriller, with a female protagonist, set aboard a military ship. My latest thriller is a sci-fi story called Brainstorm and deals with remote viewing and psychic projection. All three are being promoted for a limited time in all eBook formats, anywhere online, for only $.99. They’re also available in trade paper and hardcover. I also have two short stories available in eBook formats: a humor piece called“Toothpick for Two” and a nostalgic romantic drama called “Jack Knight”.
Why do you think horror is so appealing?
[Gordon Kessler] With horror, you’re really unlimited in how far you can take the suspense and thrills, adult content, etc. I love the suspense and setting up the dramatic and emotion-thick scenes. However, I’m not much into the supernatural, so, when I go there, I try to keep that aspect in some way plausible.
You mentioned Dean Koontz and Stephen King. Obviously, they influenced your writing.
[Gordon Kessler] Yes, they were definitely my biggest influences.
Does your style remind you of any other author?
[Gordon Kessler] I learned dramatic writing, description and pacing from Koontz and King. A number of readers say my style is Koontz-like, some say like King. I’ve tried not to copy either style, but learn from them and understand how their writing styles, as well as other authors’, entertain readers.
Since dogs are a prominent feature in Jezebel, do you have dogs of his own? If so, what type are they?
[Gordon Kessler] I am owned by a super-sweet, ten-month-old golden retriever named Jaz. She keeps me sane.
I know what you mean. I have a mixed breed called Rascal who's well named. His last transgression is chewing the fringe off my oriental rug. Do you have any other pets at present?
[Gordon Kessler] I got Jaz after not having a dog for over 25 years. I had several ferrets over a period of about twelve years, and I loved them dearly. They truly are like shooting stars—their energy, playfulness and lives shine bright for only a few years. I find there are few things harder to deal with than losing a companion of any kind. It always makes me reluctant to get another pet, once I lose one.
Again, I know what you mean. Is there anything else you'd like to share with the readers?
(Gordon Kessler) Besides Amazon.com and other Internet bookstores, you can find out more about me and my novels on my website: www.GordonKessler.com; my retail bookstore for “indie” authors: www.ReadersMatrix.com; and you can view the YouTube book trailers for both Jezebel and Brainstorm at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_zHD9pmHOzk&feature=relatedhttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_zHD9pmHOzk&feature=related and http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6eDjWJFbRdI, respectively. Please check them out and give them a “thumbs up” and a nice comment, if you like them.
Also, if you’re a writer and are thinking of “going indie,” check out my websites www.IndieWritersAlliance.com and www.WritersMatrix.com. You can friend me on Facebook at: www.Facebook.com/GordonKessler1; follow me on Twitter at: www.Twitter.com/GordonKessler; and link up with me at www.LinkedIn.com/in/GordonKesslerwww.LinkedIn.com/in/GordonKessler. Again, thank you for hosting me on Hope. Dreams. Life… Love. It’s been a pleasure.
You're very welcome. Your book is great.
I do have a couple of questions for your blog followers. Please do comment on my post, but answering my questions are, of course, optional. Here they are:
1. What do you think women find most attractive about a male protagonist?
2. What do you think men find the most attractive about a female protagonist?
3. What traits make the very best villains?
Readers, don't forget to help him out. Gordon is giving away a $50 gift certificate to one commenter on his blog tour. And now, here's a blurb and excerpt from Jezebel
blurb:
Sleep lightly tonight…
A madman has come to town seeking a diabolical revenge and large dogs begin attacking their masters for no apparent reason and with heinous results.
Animal Control Director Tony Parker must find out why and stop the murderous attacks. Meanwhile, Jezebel, a huge black Great Dane has killed her master and is loose, terrorizing the city and stalking Parker and his family. Parker and Sarah Hill, his beautiful and seductive young assistant, attempt to unravel the mystery and stop the terrible carnage while dealing with their own demons and lusty desires.
The attacks must be stopped. Jezebel must be found-and soon, you see--there is one other complication. Parker seems to have come down with an annoying little virus. No, it's not one of those irritating summer colds. It's certain death.
She's a murderess, huge and black as a hell-bound night.
Beware. Jezebel is on the loose!
Excerpt:
Hill went to the front door and watched Chin’s van make a U-turn at the corner and head down the street. The headlights flashed in Hill’s face, momentarily blinding her. She winced. The light burned her already blood-shot, weary eyes.
A silent moment passed before a sound came from outside. The back yard. Scratching. Something was climbing over the fence.
The rifle. It was still next to the back door. Hill moved quickly toward the kitchen. As she made it to the hall, the dog port began to open. Hill stepped to the side, out of sight, before seeing what was coming through.
She trembled, backing up to the wall next to the large window that was painted shut. She could run for the door, but by the time she reached it, she’d be seen. No way out. Hide. Where? There was no place. Behind the sheer curtain, maybe. In the dark, she might not be seen if she was quiet and didn’t move.
She pulled the curtain around her. She could see through it, but it made the already dim room even dimmer. The blowing fan was the only noise. Nothing moved except the oscillating shadows of the fan blades beating the stale air through the room. The green flash of the clock on the CD player caused an eerie, strobing light.
A dark shape slowly emerged from the hallway and moved into the room. Large. Huge. Black.
Thanks again—and happy blogging! Gordon
Six Sentence Sunday
Today's character sketch is from The Welcome Inn. In this excerpt, Travis Abercrombie is telling his girlfriend why he blackmailed the mayor of Martin's Crossing. The book is available at http://www.wingsepress.com/Bookstore/The%20Welcome%20Inn.htm
"What’s wrong with being Buck’s little brother?"
Travis, who had trained his eyes on the floor during his recital, now lifted his face to Melanie. "I am sorry. I lost the respect and goodwill of every person who mattered to me: I dishonored my family name, and I ruined my life.
Why did I do it? To show everyone that I wasn’t just Buck’s little brother, I guess."
"What’s wrong with being Buck’s little brother?"
Saturday, October 1, 2011
Sweet Saturday Sample
Today's sample is from The Best Selling Toy Of The Season, and it picks up where last Saturday's sample left off. The book is available at http://www.melange-books.com/authors/elainecantrell/cantrellthebestsellingtoyoftheseason.html
The butler stood beside her chair wringing his hands. “I’ll get it ma’am. Please don’t worry about it.”
“Why don’t we have dessert in the living room,” Tommy tactfully suggested, rising as he spoke.
Everybody followed him, and Tommy seated himself on the sofa beside Nikki. He began to talk to his parents about nothing in particular, and with the focus off of her, Nikki marginally relaxed.
“Did you know Tommy when you were in high school, Nikki?” asked Mr. Price.
“No, I didn’t.”
“When did you graduate?”
“Oh, I didn’t graduate. I quit when I was seventeen. I always thought I’d go to adult education and get my diploma, but after the kids were born I had to work and take care of them, and I just didn’t have the time.”
Nikki maintained a casual air, but her face had turned pink, for she knew that nothing she had done so far could hold a candle to her lack of education. Tommy was a lawyer for goodness sake. These people valued education as much as they valued family, and she had neither
Mrs. Price changed the subject for which Nikki blessed her. “Your cousin, Dan, trains Tommy’s horse doesn’t he?”
“Yes, he does. He does a good job, too. He’s won a lot of ribbons and trophies for Tommy.”
“I believe he recently married Holly Grant.”
“Yes, ma’am, he did.”
“I play bridge with Holly’s grandmother, Pauline. She’s really pleased about the marriage.”
“Oh, so is Mr. Wakefield. You know Dan lived with him after his parents died.”
“I expect he is pleased. Most parents wouldn’t like for their daughters to go out with Kyle Wakefield’s son.”
Nikki’s eyes started to snap, and Tommy hastily stepped in. “Mother, I know you didn’t mean that the way it sounded. Dan’s a fine man; he’s nothing at all like his father.” Dan’s father had been a drug dealer, and everyone in Fairfield knew it.
“I’m very sorry,” Mrs. Price apologized. “That didn’t come out the right way.”
Nikki suspected that it came out exactly the way Mrs. Price meant it, but for Tommy’s sake, she kept quiet.
Thankfully, Tommy didn’t want to stay too late. Nikki had never been as glad of anything in her life when he said they had to go. The thing was, she needed a restroom. She hated to ask, but it had reached the point where she had to.
“May I use your bathroom before we go?”
“Certainly. I’ll show you where it is,” Mrs. Price said.
Nikki followed her through the elegant home, and Mrs. Price indicated the powder room. It wasn’t as large as Nikki had thought it would be, but this was an older house. Maybe they didn’t build bathrooms so large a long time ago, she thought.
As she washed her hands she admired the pretty, snow-white towel. With all that lace on the bottom it looked too fancy to use. She had just replaced it on the towel bar when disaster struck. Her arm nudged the edge of a cut glass bowl full of potpourri that crashed to the tile floor and splintered into what looked like a million pieces. Nikki started to cry. She wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand and bit the inside of her lip hard. She couldn’t afford to bawl like a baby.
She heard a knock on the door, and Tommy called, “Nikki, what was that noise? Are you okay?”
Nikki swiftly opened the door. “Get me a broom and dustpan. I knocked your mother's bowl into the floor and broke it."
Tommy shook his head. “Henry will clean it up, Nikki. You’re Mother’s guest.”
Mrs. Price appeared in the doorway behind Tommy. “Don’t worry about it, Nikki. I have plenty of bowls to replace it with.”
“I’d like to pay you for it.”
“That isn’t necessary. It wasn’t valuable.”
Finally, they said goodnight, and as the car door closed behind her Nikki burst into loud, noisy sobs. The good time had definitely ended. Tommy would wash his hands of her, and it was all her fault. Why couldn’t she have done things right just this one time?
Friday, September 30, 2011
Fashionista Friday: I Want This!
I've found some totally unrelated items that I love and want to share them with you. This first outfit is from Donna Karan's fall collection. I'm totally, absolutely in love with it! So elegant with perhaps a bit of a retro touch. Gorgeous! Perfect! You don't want to know how much it costs. Find out at http://www.donnakaran.com/collections/fall-2011/collection/fall2011collectionlook4/fall-2011-collection-look-4
I also like these shoes.
My last thing is this pair of pants. I like them because they have four way stretch.
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