Too old for this shit

You guys like themed blank books/journals/notebooks?  Did you like Chemical?  Did you ever wonder what the sign out front of Tommy’s pub looked like?

Here is my traditional offering of a birthday tree, and this year’s edition is disgustingly pink to go with whatever frilly drink you may or may not have as a celebration (not sure if you’re still on meds. Sorry!).

Happy birfday My Lady, hope you have the best day you could have!

Retro Satanas!!! I had a stomach bug last week and I'm not keeping the kids home another week. The health safety measures suck balls but still glad we have them... Air kisses and virtual hugs by the bucket are gladly accepted and returned tho

HARDCOVER IS NOW LIVE!

I hit submit, went to the grocery store, and when I got home it was already LIVE!

So…go get it :D

Greta Morley, LAPD, professional driver with the most decorated anti-drugs team in the Greater Los Angeles area, is just one bad call away from suspension. Figuring her relationship with her boss will afford her some leeway to do what she thinks is the right thing, she makes that call…and ends up transferred to a small snowy town in Minnesota to wait out her disciplinary review. Cop shops are the same wherever you go, right? Do your job, lay low, obey orders, get back to LA quick…except this is the Weemeetwa PD, and NOTHING here comes even remotely close to following the rules. The Chief of Police is a stupidly handsome ex hockey player ruling the roost over a department full of misfits, assorted lawbreakers, half-trained locals and a vicious K9 unit that barks at the pot-dealing office assistant all day. Could be worse, right?  Nope, it couldn’t be worse. And Greta is stuck here for a year waiting for the higher-ups in LA to forget what she did so she can go back to her job in the real world. But until then it’s a full schedule of morning donut runs with a charming fugitive riding shotgun who *should* be doing a better job at hiding and a motley crew of co-workers who all seem a bit…excessive.  And the Chief seems hellbent on resisting Greta’s dubious attempts at getting him to warm her bed despite all her best - and worst - efforts.  Everything is mind-numbingly out of whack for a city girl displaced in the icy North…until the East Coast Syndicate comes looking for a missing traitor and the quietly weird little town of Weemeetwa comes to shocking life.

Follow the link at the top of the post to get your copy of the Kindle edition :)

tag list below the cut

Hey! It's funny, every time I start thinking okay she's for real dead this time, you pop your head up and I have to cancel the condolence flowers. Which is good, because those things are stupid expensive.

New chapter tonight! I just got home so I'm doing stuff, but keep an eye on this spot.

The bunny ears...actually nobody knows what that's about except @texmexdarling, and that's only because I can bear to share the really humiliating stuff with just one person at a time and she was online when it happened lol - suffice to say there are strangers in this town who probably think one of two things right now: I either drink too much or I went to a costume party as a Playboy Bunny on Wednesday night. Spoiler: it's neither, my kids are just asses.

I let my gaze drop to Dowd’s fingers, wrapped around the bars of the cell, and god help me it was a struggle not to reach out and slide a fingertip across his knuckles just to see where his eyes would go.  I was still mad at him despite the little foray into flirtation, but it was getting more and more difficult maintaining the rage with him standing there looking at me like that.  "Fine, I’ll get the book.   What’s the key code again.“

"9116.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

I turned and walked to the door, suddenly painfully aware of the fact that he might be watching my backside as I did so…and when the Officer stepped aside to let me exit I turned back around to ask him one last thing.  His eyes quickly came up to my face and a shiver hit the base of my spine at the realization that I was right, he was definitely looking.  I cleared my throat and pretended he wasn’t affecting me.

Not an easy lie.

*chapter 4 of The House Next Door is up*

*chapter 4 of The House Next Door is up*

I tensed up, visibly I guess, because Dowd paused the playback again.  "Do we need to stop?“

“Naw, I’m good.  It’s just weird hearing it all after the fact…I had an insane amount of adrenaline that night that is sadly not present today.”

The sympathy in his eyes was sincere, I could see it.  And I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to being touched by it.  Thomas Dowd was known for his high-emotion courtroom ethic but I’d never really believed it was genuine beyond a theatrically fervent zeal to win the case - but this was real.  It was real and it was warm and it held all the gentle concern of…

…of a lover waiting for consent.

Geezus.

Instagram reels convinced me I have ADHD, hubby thinks I’m hypochondriac, and the kids brought a Norovirus from school this week. Happy to report it only got 3 out of 4 and I’m not in the 3!!!! FUCKYEAH!!!!! I’m also the pride maker of 2 new linen dresses with pockets and tiny scandinavian thumbless mittens for my brother-in-law’s future baby. The two brain cells left can’t stop thinking about fabric and patterns for baby quilts.

And Little with 2 pairs of underwear stuck in his butt crack is a gem.

Love ya!!

At least you’re not dead!

See ya next time?

Not sure if it's something you're into but here is a pic of the baby mitts for the curious:

I tensed up, visibly I guess, because Dowd paused the playback again.  "Do we need to stop?“

"Naw, I’m good.  It’s just weird hearing it all after the fact…I had an insane amount of adrenaline that night that is sadly not present today.”

The sympathy in his eyes was sincere, I could see it.  And I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to being touched by it.  Thomas Dowd was known for his high-emotion courtroom ethic but I’d never really believed it was genuine beyond a theatrically fervent zeal to win the case - but this was real.  It was real and it was warm and it held all the gentle concern of…

…of a lover waiting for consent.

Geezus.

Instagram reels convinced me I have ADHD, hubby thinks I'm hypochondriac, and the kids brought a Norovirus from school this week. Happy to report it only got 3 out of 4 and I'm not in the 3!!!! FUCKYEAH!!!!! I'm also the pride maker of 2 new linen dresses with pockets and tiny scandinavian thumbless mittens for my brother-in-law's future baby. The two brain cells left can't stop thinking about fabric and patterns for baby quilts.

And Little with 2 pairs of underwear stuck in his butt crack is a gem.

Love ya!!

He leaned forward and clasped his hands on the desk in front of him. His eyes slipped for just a moment, dropping down for a brief second to somewhere around the vicinity of my throat before slowly coming back up to my face.  But despite the potential for lascivious intent, absolutely nothing about it felt out of line, and the fact that those eyes were on me at all was something of a thrill…he tended not to look at me much for some reason and I’d be lying if I claimed it didn’t disappoint me just a little bit.

But he was definitely looking at me now, and my god, it shook me.

Chapter 2 is up!

I’d never actually seen him outside of a TV screen announcing his latest public display of shitty behavior and felt myself suck in a breath when I realized who he was.  Tall, hair a bit shaggy, needed a shave, didn’t look much like a respectable lawyer if I’m being strictly honest.  Definitely not the poised and well polished image he’d presented when the local news was shoving cameras in his face asking how many days he’d earned in lockup this time, but there was something in the shape of his jaw that made my fingers grip the steering wheel a tiny bit harder than necessary.  He was standing on the curb reaching up to hook a sign onto an awning attachment while a young woman watched disinterestedly from an open doorway.

  Thomas Dowd, Attorney At Law

We were stopped at the red light about fifteen feet away from him and for some reason he turned and looked straight at us.  My littlest, CJ, waved to him from the back seat.

He didn’t wave back.  Just sort of tilted his head a little bit, maybe offered up a halfheartedly bemused smile, then stood back and looked up at his sign.  The woman in the doorway shrugged and disappeared inside the building, and the light turned green in front of us.

That should have been the end of our association with Thomas Dowd.  But as the dirty minded and even dirtier tempered fates would have it, it ended up being nothing less than a beginning, and that sign swinging creakily in the cooling breeze of early Autumn wasn’t just a sign telling the small world of Bendale that the infamous Tommy Tantrum Dowd was back in business.  It was a sign, period.

Unfortunately that day isn’t today…today I’m surrounded by boxes and piles of my family’s belongings, sorting and packing and throwing things out and donating things we still need but can’t take with us.  I’m covered in bruises and scrapes from hefting furniture and crates.  I’m tired.  I don’t want to do this anymore.  But I have to, thanks to the hateful hearts of other people that I have no control over.

I want to be writing, but I sat down to take a 30 minute break and found myself just staring at the screen, scrolling past cats and fandom gifs and the occasional tasteful bit of black and white erotic photography, too tired and uninspired to do much more than just scroll.  I opened AO3 and closed it.  Opened it again.  Closed it again.

Take care of yourself and your family! You've shared your situation and if anyone can't understand or is demanding any stories from you then screw them. We'll wait.

I refuse to age him down - he’s staying where he is, at every minute of 57, and yes he’s in the band.

KEANUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Author page at Amazon.com