Making Plans
It was a long, ugly week last week, and the weekend has flown by much too fast. The best part of it so far was visiting with a friend yesterday. Today, I'm looking forward to the veggie curry currently in the slow cooker while hubby is waiting for the sloppy joes in the pot on the stove to be ready for him. I'm hoping the week ahead is better (and less expensive! By the way, if you're missing any of my books, now might be a good time to pick them up, hahaha!). Plus I have a four-day weekend to look forward to next weekend, so I'm starting my list now, and it isn't all chores. Some of it is just because I want to, not because I have to. Of course there are things on it that are must-dos--the usual weekend chores, and going up to the boys' to do some garden clean-up before winter arrives, and I have an appointment one day. But I'm aiming for one day to be a do-nothing day, as in no errands to run, none of the weekend chores waiting, and only things on it for pleasure, like reading, like writing, like hanging out with the cats and playing good music, maybe watching some movies I enjoy or some I have on my to-watch list. We'll see how that goes.
In the meantime, I have a snippet for you this week from Protecting Medusa.
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Philomena parked beside her mother’s house. She’d arrived first, and she needed to get dinner on in a hurry. Once Jason got home, she’d be too distracted to focus on cooking.
She went in the back door, balancing a grocery bag while she reset the alarm, then hit the light switch with her elbow as she continued into the kitchen.
She took her mother’s cast iron skillet from its hook over the counter and put it on the stove, turning the heat to high and dropping in some ground beef before she shed her coat. As she put away the rest of the groceries, the meat began to sizzle.
She rolled up her sleeves and dug a spatula out of the utensil drawer, but froze when she heard a creak from upstairs. She waited, then shook her head. It was a hundred year-old farmhouse.
She stirred the beef in the pan, adding chopped onions she’d picked up at the store--not out of laziness but because she knew she needed to move quickly after three days away and with an excitable six-year-old on his way home. She could take time tomorrow to do her own prep work for dinner.
The sound came again from upstairs. She set the spatula on the spoon rest and turned the flame under her pan down to low, then tugged up the hem of her long skirt to pull her dagger from its leather sheath on her thigh.
A loud thud reached her ears, and her heart beat faster.
Dear Gods, someone really was in the house.
She crept up the back steps, keeping to the edges where she knew her weight wouldn’t make the stairs creak, the smooth handle of her long knife comforting in her sweat-damp hand.
More thumping, accompanied by running water.
She frowned when she got to the top of the steps, wincing as something hit the porcelain bathtub, followed by muffled cursing.
She stuck her head around the corner, but the partially-closed bathroom door at the other end of the hall blocked her view. All she could see were shadows.
Two people? In her mother’s bathroom? She wished she’d grabbed the phone on her way up so she could call the police. No, she should’ve called before coming upstairs. Too late now.
More thumping and a crash.
Her jaw clenched, and she stepped into the hallway, her pulse pounding in her ears.
“I’ve called the police,” she lied, moving slowly along the hall. Frigid air drifted toward her. Either the bathroom window was open, or something was seriously wrong with the furnace. She frowned, holding tighter to her knife.
A dark blur went out the window, and her eyes widened. It was quite a drop to the ground, even with all the snow mounded below from the big storms so far this winter.
When a large, naked man with a gun went to look out the window, she froze in the middle of the hall, her dagger shoulder high.
Naked.
She swallowed, and then he turned around. Her lungs stopped working.
“Hello, Philomena. Have I ever told you how much I love a woman who can handle a blade?” He caught the edge of the door and pulled it wide open.
She’d know that voice anywhere, and that face, even if she’d only seen him in photos. Ryder Ware, Jason’s father.
And wow, was she seeing him in person.
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Before I go stir up my veggie curry and start the rice, I have one more thing I wanted to mention today...The Yuletide Bookish Market on Saturday, November 21, 2026 in Reading, PA. I have more info on the Events page here on the site (you can find the link at the top of the page). We're only six weeks out now, and I've gotten my prep list started. I can't wait to see everyone, and I hope if you're close enough, you'll come out to see us!
Here's hoping your week ahead is smooth sailing, I know I'm hoping for the same this week to make up for last week. Are you finding some reading time this week? I'd love to hear about it!
Until next week, happy reading!
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