I mean that literally, because as I write this, it's 69 degrees here in my backyard. On March 3rd. I won't complain about seeing my flowers in the next few weeks, but our winter has been less than satisfactory again this year. The pussy willow bush is in full bloom right now, and the forsythia is starting to show hints of yellow on the tightly furled buds. I haven't been up in a couple weeks, but I feel pretty confident that some of the many daffodils at the boys' house are blooming already, too, since they were budding last time I was there.
I always have trouble deciding if I like spring or fall best, and honestly, in the moment, it's probably that season. But never summer. Haha.
The new month means setting new goals. Which, right now, are the same goals as last month. I am hoping by the end of the month to have a release date to share with you for Freeing Medusa, cross your fingers! And hopefully not too long after that, a series starter for a short contemporary series as well.
Today, I have a snippet for you from Light the Way Home.
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Lucie didn’t argue when Nate refused her help with the dishes. Her insides still quivered from the realization that he was attracted to her.
“I’ll see you in the mornin’, Lucie!” Hayden shouted, hopping on one foot.
She smiled as she put her sweater on. “Yes, you will.” They’d already decided Hayden would join her after breakfast so Nate could cram in a few hours of work before he headed to the hospital to see his dad–and try to get his mother to come home rather than sleep on the less-than-ideal pull-out chair-bed in his dad’s hospital room again.
She wasn’t sure that was a battle he would win, but she understood his concern.
Hayden gave her a quick hug and then ran back to his book in the living room.
“I really do appreciate this, Lucie,” Nate said from where he stood at the sink.
“It’s nothing, Nate,” she said lightly. “Keeps me from having to spend endless hours on job search sites and getting more depressed than I already am.” She kept her head down as she buttoned her sweater up to her chin.
“It isn’t nothing to me.”
His firm, quiet tone snared her attention, and her mouth went dry. The shadows in his brown eyes made her curl her fingers around the edges of her sweater to keep from reaching out.
“I’m not accustomed to asking for help.” He cleared his throat. “I appreciate it.”
She swallowed. “It’s no problem,” she whispered. Dammit–hot, attracted to her, and vulnerable. Shit, that was trouble. She took a slow breath. “I’ll see you in the morning then.” She inched toward the door.
A hint of awareness darkened his eyes, but he stayed where he was. “Good night, Lucie.”
She took two more steps, clearing the doorway to the mud room, and a little relief sank into her belly. Until she heard footsteps behind her.
Within reach of the back door, she whirled. He stood at the open doorway of the kitchen, undisguised desire in his eyes this time. Her heart skipped a beat, and she felt a quick rush of excitement that she tried to squash as he stepped into the mud room. She held her breath as he took another step. One more. Until he stood a foot away, and her breath rushed out.
He studied her face for a long moment, and she wondered what he saw, what he was looking for. Impulsively, she moved closer to him, noting the way his eyes rounded, and she stretched up to brush a kiss on his mouth, lingered for a second, then stepped back.
“Good night, Nate,” she whispered, reaching behind her for the doorknob.
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One of the things on my to-do list for this week is prep for the next booksigning event on my calendar. If you're in New Jersey, northeastern Pennsylvania, or New York, I hope you'll check this out. Two days, so many authors and books, plus wine!
I'll be talking about it a lot in the next two months, so if you're not nearby, I apologize in advance. This event was so much fun last year, I can't wait to do it again.
Has spring arrived where you are? Are you happy about it, or disappointed winter seems to be done already? I'd love to hear about it!