A little sweet, a little spice...

Month: September 2018

My orange belt

If you follow me on Facebook, Instagram, or Twitter, then you already know that I started taking Taekwondo a few months ago. For three years, I spent twice a week there with my kids, and I’ve been interested ever since. I was a dancer, once upon a time. But ever since having kids, I’ve wanted to kick some butt. The time was finally right.

It’s been an interesting journey. I’m no spring chicken. I’ve had pulled muscles in my thighs and back. I’ve felt excruciating pain in my chest, shoulder, and arm, and the tops of my feet from roundhouse kicks and my hands from punches. I’ve endured humiliation, getting winded, and being slower than the teens. But it’s also been a ton of fun.

In June, I survived my first belt test. I earned my yellow belt but I wasn’t able to break the board. I’d gone into it feeling really confident about my front kick. I’d spent hours practicing that kick, and had broken multiple practice boards. But when the board didn’t break after the first few kicks, I guess I lost my confidence. After several more tries, the instructor had me try to break the board with a hammer fist. Something I’d only done on a practice board twice and hadn’t prepared for the test. No surprise, that didn’t work.

So, I went into last week’s test feeling pretty nervous. In addition to my anxiety about whether I’d be able to break the board this time, my back had been bothering me for three or four weeks. I’d been icing it, taking hot baths with Epsom salt, using peppermint oil and arnica gel, and alternating between stretching my back and not stretching my back. My back had improved, until four days before the test. The last class before my test, every single thing we did was excruciating. I didn’t know if I could physically make it through the test.

But I did. And I broke the board – on the first try! The proof is below. And above is a picture of me with my new belt – orange.

Anthology to raise funds for breast cancer

Shades of Pink 2018 cover

I’ve been lucky that my family hasn’t been touched by breast cancer. But, when I was in my 20s, I worked with a remarkable older woman who was a breast cancer survivor. She was sweet, kind, dedicated, and a hard worker. Hildie volunteered at the organization where I worked once a week until the breast cancer returned. She happily stuffed envelopes or collated mailings for us, always with a smile and kind words for all. Her death hit us all hard. At her funeral, her oldest grandchild, a college student, spoke about how wonderful his grandmother was, barely holding himself together. I went through multiple tissues.

So, I dedicate my story, Waking Her Wolf, to Hildie.

You can find this story in the Shades of Pink (Vol 3) anthology, a collection of new short stories by more than 30 Romance authors who want to support breast cancer research. The anthology will only be available during October 2018. If you make a donation, of any amount, you’ll receive the anthology as a thank-you. If you preorder the story this month, you’ll receive download instructions on September 30th.

My story, Waking Her Wolf, is the prequel short story to a new series set in the world of my Shifter Hunters Ltd. trilogy. It introduces new characters and reacquaints readers with some characters from my book, Wolves of Paris. I hope you enjoy it, and I hope you get a sense of relief and accomplishment from supporting this worthy cause.

WIP Wednesday: Saving Their Wolf excerpt

Short excerpt from Saving Their Wolf (Book 1 of the Paris Harem series)

So, my friends, this is an unedited excerpt taken out of my WIP (work-in-progress). I’d love to hear what you think, but please be kind. I still plan on running this through multiple critique partners, beta readers, editors, and proofreaders. For now, however, I haven’t even finished the draft (I’m about three-fourths of the way through).

Excerpt of Saving Their Wolf

Catherine placed a plate of Tunisian salad on the table in front of an older gentleman with tan skin and graying hair. “Here you go,” she said with a smile. “Can I get you anything else?”

“Another glass of beer, please.”

Catherine whirled around and strode to the bar. “Another beer for Mr. Hassine, please, Abdul.”

The chef-owner handed her a glass of beer without a word. Abdul wasn’t a chatty sort, but at least he didn’t hit on her. She’d worked here as a teen, before moving to the south of France. And he’d happily—well, as happy as Abdul ever showed–taken her back now that she’d moved home to Paris.

She’d become friendly with another waitress, Charlotte, a petite blonde, who always wore her hair in a high ponytail, like some kind of American cheerleader. And Charlotte had worked here for several months and claimed Abdul had never hit on her either.

This was a trait Catherine appreciated in a boss.

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