Excerpt Wednesday – Maggie Quinn

Patrick Quinn, a thin, handsome, dark haired boy of fourteen, squared his shoulders as he looked over the soggy field. He was dressed in a tattered shirt and soiled trousers; his well-worn shoes wouldn't last much longer, but he didn't worry about himself. His family depended on him. His nostrils, filled with the nauseating stench of rotting potatoes, made his stomach lurch. This year he'd hoped for a crop. Anything to sustain them. Now it was gone. He felt the weight of the world come crashing down on him.

He stooped down, surveying the field, and then picked up a rotted potato. He studied it carefully for a few seconds, and then stood and holding it tightly in his hand, thrust his arm toward the sky.

"Why!" he cried as he dropped to his knees in the putrid field. Tears streamed down his cheeks.
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A cottage with a thatched roof and walls made of stones sat almost obscured by the brown countryside, seeming to blend into the landscape. Once it had been a beautiful cottage with lush green grass surrounding it, but now it had fallen into disarray. Still, it was home to the proud Quinn family.

Catherine Quinn, the matriarch of the family, lay in her bed, gravely ill. She was a frail woman in her late forties, who looked much older. She'd been a beauty in her day, but now her once dark silky hair had turned gray. The past few years had taken a heavy toll on her, and now she was succumbing to the fever that had claimed so many of her loved ones. Her feeble hands clutched at her threadbare nightdress. She struggled to speak. Her once bright eyes were now dull and almost lifeless as she tried to focus.

The inside of the cottage was sparsely furnished, with many of its possessions sold long ago. The main room contained Catherine's large bed, which had been brought out of the room she'd once shared with her husband and placed in the main room to provide more warmth for her. The other two rooms belonged to her children. Next to the bed where Catherine laid, the family Bible and a bowl of water sat on a little table. The opposite end of the room contained a small wooden table with four chairs. On one wall was a long shelf where food and dishes were stored. All of the furniture was crudely made. A large window stood at the front of the room, and a smaller one at the opposite end. The walls were bare except for some religious pictures. The floor had no covering, and many of the boards were rotting. A large fireplace took up almost one entire side of the room, and was used for cooking as well as heat. The home used to be filled with fine furniture and two couches and comfortable chairs. They were gone now, having been sold to purchase food for the family and pay the ever increasing taxes. But it was never enough, and money was as scarce as food.

Catherine shifted in the bed. She opened her mouth and again struggled to speak. Her words were faint and garbled.

Maggie Quinn, a beauty at the age of twenty-two with flowing dark auburn hair, looked up from where she sat at the table quietly mending her brother Patrick's shirt. Around the village, Maggie Quinn was known for her determination and strong willed feisty character. It took a lot to break her spirit. Not even this desolation could break her pride in her beloved Ireland. The land would come back, she was sure of it, and voiced it to whoever would listen. Soon the fields would be prosperous, and there would be enough money to purchase proper food and clothing once again, she would say. But friends were long gone, and the family rarely had a visitor…not even Maggie's fiancé Ian O'Malley. But she knew that he had his own family and crops to deal with. His family hadn't fared any better than hers. The lazy days of strolling through the meadows were gone, but she prayed every day that they would soon return. When they did, though, she knew nothing would be the same. Those taken due to the fever would never return. A pang pierced her heart.

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Excerpt Wednesday – Sparks And Cabin Fever – Sparks

Before Stefani could answer, Harper came out of nowhere and sashayed up to the bar. She was dressed in a short denim skirt, a low-cut light blue blouse which showed ample cleavage, and navy heels. Deacon's eyes were immediately drawn to her like a magnet.

Stefani's heart fell. She hadn't been enough to keep Deacon interested once Harper entered the picture. Even though Deacon claimed he loved the outdoors, when he was indoors, Harper would be his preferred partner.

"I'm sorry I'm late," she said throwing her arms around Stefani's neck. "Forgive me?" She turned her head and noticed Deacon sitting next to Stefani. She immediately stepped back from Stefani and with hands on hips beamed at Deacon. "I'm surprised to see you here," she said with a phony accent.

Stefani's eyes narrowed. What a liar! She shot Harper a steely look. Harper lifted an eyebrow slightly. The only reason Harper asked her out tonight was to pretend they were having a girls' night out and then act surprised if she ran into Deacon. She'd obviously planned to come in late then feign surprise at seeing him. Stefani fumed, but she had no one to blame but herself for allowing Harper to use her to serve her own purposes. What did it matter? Deacon hadn't shown anything more than a friendly interest in her. She'd
made it out to be more than it clearly was only because that was what she so badly wanted. Deacon had shared some friendly chitchat, nothing more. She couldn't even blame him for leading her on because he hadn't.

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Excerpt Wednesday – Weekend Swap

Kay smiled. "My fantasies definitely don't take me that far."

Tyler's eyes narrowed. "Mine do and I'd like to make them a reality," she stated bluntly.

"You're joking aren't you?" Kay's jaw dropped. "You'd sleep with another man?"

She studied the shocked look on her friend's face and flashed her a bright smile. "No. I'm not kidding, I'm serious."

Kay picked up her coffee cup and held it between her palms. "Come on, you're teasing, right?"

"No, I'm deadly serious." She sighed deeply. "Sometimes it's good for a marriage."

Kay's eyes narrowed. "It's cheating plain and simple. How can that be good for a marriage?" She gazed uncomfortably at Tyler. "You of all people, Tee, I would never imagine as a cheater. You and Will have such a rock solid loving relationship."

She tossed her head. "No, it's not cheating if your spouse is a part of it. And Will and I do have a strong committed relationship. I could never imagine being apart from Will. He's the love of my life."

"Then you mean wife swapping?" she choked. "Or swinging? Whatever it's called."

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Interviewed By My Hometown Newspaper

I was recently interviewed by my hometown newspaper Salamanca Press. If you'd like to find out how Maggie Quinn came about, the interview is at: Salamanca Press.

Excerpt Wednesday – Hidden Desires

After her hair was dry, she clicked off the hairdryer and set it on the counter. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply as she thought about her last one-night stand. Chas had the most intense eyes she'd ever seen and a wide, sensual mouth. She'd made eye contact with him all night and when he'd made his way over to the table where she and Debbie were enjoying their final drinks of the night, Debbie patted her on the shoulder and excused herself.

A soft moan escaped Heather's throat and her pussy became wet as images of Chas' long, hard cock thrusting in and out of her as her nails dug into his back, consumed her. She kept her eyes closed as she slipped a finger inside of her now-dripping pussy and rubbed her clit, quickly bringing herself to an orgasm.

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Excerpt Wednesday – Hearts On Fire

Her hand trembled in his. Was she dreaming? Was she really with him all alone in the middle of nowhere? She was certain that she'd wake up any moment. He put a tender hand on her shoulder. She smiled. No, this was real and she was here with him. Anything was possible tonight. "I'd love to stay."

"Good." He turned his head until he was staring into her eyes then bent his head tilting it down to hers.

Her breath momentarily caught in her throat as his lips touched hers sweetly at first, then with a hungry need. She responded to his need with her own. She put her arms around his neck, pressing into his body. She never wanted to let go. His firm lips clung to hers as his tongue found its way into her mouth. A soft moan escaped from her as his hands slowly caressed her back, then gently traveled to her chest where he expertly fondled her heaving breasts with his hands.

His mouth moved from hers and planted soft kisses on her neck and throat. "I want you so badly," he hoarsely whispered.

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BAM

Excerpt Wednesday – Maggie Quinn

Maggie glanced at Paddy. His eyes revealed that he was as frightened as she was at their mother's worsening health. She didn't know how to help her mother and did the only thing she could do, which was to offer up another silent prayer for her healing. But she had to face the truth. The Lord would soon take her beloved mother the same as He'd taken Da and her brothers and sisters. She wanted to scream and pound her fists. What had they done to deserve this? She drew a deep breath. No, her faith was being tested. She had to hold on. She had to accept whatever burdens the Lord had placed on their family. She couldn't forsake everything Ma had taught her.

"Maggie, you remind me so much of your father. You have his love for the land. You have his courage and strength of character."

"And Da's red hair and stubbornness to match," Patrick said in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Catherine laughed weakly. "My sweet Paddy. The man of the house. So much laid on your young shoulders. I'm sorry, my son."

"I have strong shoulders, Ma," Patrick replied. "Please take some broth now."

"I'm not hungry. Save it for yourselves." She sank back into the pillows and immediately began coughing again.

"Ma!" Patrick said, alarmed at the strangling sounds coming from her throat. He put his arms around her and raised her to a sitting position. The coughing slowly subsided.

Maggie looked at Patrick. His eyes were filled with sorrow, but became brighter as Maggie began rubbing her mother's back and her breathing became less labored.

"Rest now, Ma. Please?" Patrick pleaded.

"There'll be time for that later." She swallowed.

Maggie noted how difficult swallowing seemed to be. "Have some water, Ma. You're parched. Let me get you a cup."

"No," she said in the same raspy hoarse voice. "Tell me about the crop, Paddy. Is it good? Tell me the truth. I hear you and Maggie whispering. Don't lie to me, Paddy."

Maggie's eyes pleaded with Patrick. She shook her head and Patrick nodded. She knew her mother couldn't take the bad news.

Patrick came around the bed and seated himself in the chair next to the bed. He took his mother's frail hand in his and sighed heavily. "I won't lie to you, Ma." He looked at Maggie and shook his head. "The crop is gone."

Maggie had misinterpreted his nod to mean he wouldn't tell her. If she was going to leave them, let her go with peace. She couldn't bear for whatever time her mother had left to be fraught with worry. Maggie anxiously watched her mother's face. Why had Paddy told her? Why couldn't he let her believe they would be fine? She saw the hopelessness in her mother's eyes. The will to fight to live was gone. Ma had no reason now. She could do nothing to protect her children.

"All of it? There's nothing left?" 

Paddy blinked and bit his bottom lip. "Yes, Ma. We have nothing left," he replied quietly. "The fields are in ruins. As they were the year before. Now worse."

"All hope's not lost, Ma," Maggie quickly said. "The next crop will be good. We still have five potatoes I put away." She looked confidently at her brother. "We'll survive, Paddy. We need to hang on until next year."

Patrick's forehead furrowed. "No, Maggie. Even if we could find enough food to see us through, there will be no crop next year or the year after that. Don't you see?"

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