Category: Charity Sunday

Charity Sunday: Barstool Sports Fund

Charity Sunday: Dee S. Knight

How Charity Sunday works: for every comment made on this blog post, I will donate money to the charity named. The same promise is made for every blog site listed in the group–click the Linky Links link at the bottom of this post to see the list of participants and read/comment on any of them to see a donation go to that blogger’s charity. We’re all different! Thanks for your help and your participation!

Everyone has been affected by the COVID-19 virus, and small businesses are in the thick of it. It’s not bad enough that businesses have been shut down, but the open-close, open-close circle many have gone through in various states has made the situation even harder. Barstool Sports’ David Portnoy is a small business owner himself and has been as affected as any other business. But he hasn’t stood around scratching his head and wondering what to do, he’s taken action by raising money to distribute to others who really need help to stay afloat. I like someone who takes charge, and this month I am supporting his cause. Please comment on this blog post to help me make a generous contribution to the Barstool Sports Fund!

Today I’m highlighting my book Baer and the Three Goldilocks. Susan Baer is a small business owner who has worked hard to make her life’s work a success. She doesn’t own a bar or restaurant, but she owns a fitness center and that’s in the ballpark of businesses Dave might help if Susan were caught in the COVID trap of destruction.

Baer and the Three Goldilocks by Dee S. KnightBlurb:
Another erotic fairy tale with Princess Katherine and Prince Cole.
Susan Baer, founder of Baer Hugs, health centers for women, longs to find her special someone. Sadly, there are no prospects in sight. Suddenly, three men come into her life. All successful, all gorgeous, all blond. And posing their own unique problems. One is too rough and hard in his treatment, one is too soft and wants her to take charge. The last is…well, let’s just say he’s unavailable. *sigh* Can any of them turn out to be “just right?”

Buy link:
Kindle Unlimited

Excerpt:
Susan came into her office at breakneck speed, talking the whole way. “I know it’s after two and I’ve taken a longer lunch than anyone has a right to.” She threw her purse in the bottom drawer of her desk. With barely time for a breath, she spun around and slammed into Duncan’s broad, solid chest.

He grasped her shoulders to steady her. She stepped back and he dropped his hands.

“Oh! Sorry! I didn’t mean to blow through like a tornado.” Taking a deeper breath, she smoothed the French twist she’d pulled her hair into that morning, then did the same to her skirt. She hoped she didn’t look as flustered as she felt. Gesturing to the guest chair, she said, “Sit. Tell me what’s going on.”

Duncan looked at her for a few long seconds before laying her phone messages on the desk. “Did you have a good lunch?” It was quietly said, and with little inflection. So why did she get the impression he meant more than his words’ literal meaning?

“It was fine, thanks. We drove down towards Williamsburg. How was yours?” Absently, she shuffled through the call slips. Nothing important jumped out at her.

“It was good. The girls and I talked about you.”

Her head snapped up. “Me? What about me?”

He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Curiosity.” Narrowing his eyes, he leaned forward slightly. “Why you’d want to go out with that jerk, mostly.” He paused, and when she didn’t respond he leaned back. “We talked out of concern, not idle gossip. You know he’s made a pass at most everyone who works here.” His mouth hitched into a smile. “Except me, of course.”

That caused her to return his smile. “No, Toby has been pretty clear on that score.”

Duncan held out his hand, casually examining his nails. “You know, it’s been my experience that men who protest as much as he does sometimes have something to hide. Do you know for certain that he’s not more on my team than yours?”

She laughed. “Pretty sure.”

He put his hand down and looked intently at her. “But not certain?”

“Why does it matter to you?” She left a hint of a smile on her face. Was he fishing to find out if she and Toby had had sex? Her heart fluttered a little at the possibility that he wondered.

“Because I care for you. I’m your friend and I hate to see you waste yourself on someone like him. Why do you see him, Susan?”

Friends. Oh. She said nothing. The reasons she dated Toby were rooted so far in the past she wasn’t sure she could explain them in a few quick sentences. And she certainly didn’t want to explain them to Duncan. Her feelings for him were too complicated as it was without adding Toby into the mix.

“Susan, why?”

“Toby and I have known each other a long time. You see him at his worst. He does have good qualities.”

If Duncan had worn glasses, he’d have been staring over them in abject denial, giving her a “Yeah, right” look.

She shrugged in acknowledgement. “I know it might not be obvious, but he does. My relationship with Toby is a long story, and one that’s none of your business, Duncan.”

As though a mask dropped over his face, his expression became impassive. He pushed out of the chair. “You’re right. I’m not going to apologize for worrying about you, though. Meetings are scheduled in Lexington for all day Monday, and our reservations are confirmed for Sunday and Monday nights.” He pointed to the call slips on her desk. “It’s been quiet and that’s all you have to take care of.”

He stopped on his way out the door when she called his name.

“I appreciate the worry, but it’s all right, really.”

Shrugging, he exited, closing the door behind him.

Which left her alone to wonder to herself why she went out with Toby Williams. It was more, she hoped, than proving to Toby that she was different from the overweight girl who’d had a crush on him for three years of high school. She was certain that was how it had started.

“The question is, how did it get to where it is now?” Propping her head in her hands, she considered her situation.

Quite by accident, she’d met Toby about four weeks ago at a business function. She’d scanned the crowd and noticed a distinctive looking, tall tow-head with light blue eyes. Those eyes had met hers across the room and she’d known without doubt who he was, even after sixteen years. By the questioning look he’d given her, she guessed he was confused—as though she was someone he should know, but couldn’t place. That made her smile. And her smile practically guaranteed that he would make his way to her. Which he had, in short order.

In the four weeks since, they’d seen each other only five or six times. It had started well but reflecting on it now, she realized his attitude had worsened with each meeting. While his hands and lips had grown bolder, so had his words. Not in blatant verbal attacks but in snipes and subtle hints regarding her dress, her work, her opinions. None was very noticeable individually. But taken together, as she thought of them now, each abusive comment had worked to make her revert from who she was now, to acting like the shy, embarrassed girl she had been years ago. Wanting to capture his attention, wanting so much to belong.

Author Dee S. Knight:
A few years ago, Dee S. Knight began writing, making getting up in the morning fun. During the day, her characters killed people, fell in love, became drunk with power, or sober with responsibility. And they had sex, lots of sex.

After a while, Dee split her personality into thirds. She writes as Anne Krist for sweeter romances, and Jenna Stewart for ménage and shifter stories. All three of her personas are found on the Nomad Authors website (www.nomadauthors.com). Fortunately, Dee’s high school sweetheart is the love of her life and husband to all three ladies! Once a month, look for Dee’s Charity Sunday blog posts, where your comment can support a selected charity.

Author links:

Website: https://nomadauthors.com

Blog: http://nomadauthors.com/blog

Twitter: http://twitter.com/DeeSKnight

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/DeeSKnight2018

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/265222.Dee_S_Knight

Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B079BGZNDN

Newsletter: https://landing.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/h8t2y6

LinkedIn: http://linkedin.com/in/dee-s-knight-0500749

Sweet ‘n Sassy Divas http://bit.ly/1ChWN3K

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Charity Sunday: World Central Kitchen

Charity Sunday: Dee S. KnightHow Charity Sunday works: for every comment made on this blog post, I will donate money to the charity named. The same promise is made for every blog site listed in the group–click the Linky Links link at the bottom of this post to see the list of participants and read/comment on any of them to see a donation go to that blogger’s charity. We’re all different! Thanks for your help and your participation!

World Central KitchenI’m sad to say that my charity of choice this month has to do with helping our fellow citizens put food on their tables. This past year has devastated many households—mostly by loss of jobs or by striking down those who could work. World Central Kitchen helps folks get nutritious meals all over the world, but this year, during the trials of COVID-19, they have worked within the U.S. Their mission is: “WCK uses the power of food to heal communities and strengthen economies through times of crisis and beyond.”

WCK has a top rating in Charity Navigator. The organization started with two people and an idea—an inspiration to all of us who wonder if “I” can make a difference! You can. WE can! I hope you will comment below and help me make a good donation to World Central Kitchen.

The Cinderella Curse by Dee S. KnightFor my book this month, I’d like to introduce you to The Cinderella Curse, on sale now as pre-order. In it, one man makes a huge difference in Charlotte Gambrell’s life by showing her her own beauty.

Blurb:
One evening, in a land far away, a wife spins a story for the amusement of her husband. Like the original tale, this contemporary Cinderella is definitely for those who love romance and a HEA. However, she adds a few touches of the erotic. For her husband, you understand.

In this tale, Charlotte dreams of her prince, James, but learns about beauty and love from her fairy godfather, Cooper. She might not lose a glass slipper, but her heart is in danger of being left behind. One thing for sure, by the time our Charlotte arrives at the ball, she’d sure like to know which man is her real Prince Charming.

Buy link:
Kindle Unlimited

Excerpt:
When they finished eating, Charlotte started rinsing the dishes for the dishwasher. Cooper took a plate out of her hand and put it in the sink. “Leave that. I’ll get it later.” He dried her hands with the dishtowel and looked intently into her eyes.

She backed away and lifted the ends of her mouth slightly, suddenly very nervous. “No, I don’t want to leave all of the clean up to you. I’ll help.” She turned back to the sink. Cooper leaned against the counter with his arms crossed.

“Charlotte, don’t be scared of me.”

She looked at him in amazement. “Scared of you? I’m not scared of you, I’m scared of myself.” She looked down into the sink where she rubbed the dishcloth over the same spot on a glass. Cooper took the glass from her and put it in the dishwasher.

“I think this is clean enough,” he said. He gently pushed her out of the way and finished rinsing the dishes in the sink. When he was done, he turned to look at her as she stared out the patio door, into the dark.

Charlotte had put the kettle on for tea while Cooper was busy at the sink, and the whistle abruptly blew, shattering the quiet that had fallen over the kitchen. When Charlotte turned to get the kettle, she ran into Cooper’s broad chest.

He put his hands on her arms to steady her, then before she could move away, bent his head for a light kiss. “There’s no need to be scared of either one of us,” he said, raising his lips a whisper above hers. “We’re friends, aren’t we?” He brushed his lips gently over hers. “And friends shouldn’t be so nervous around each other.”

Nipping at her lips he pulled her with him to turn off the kettle, diminishing the whistle to a muted burbling noise. “Do you really want tea?” he asked, his voice suddenly deeper. She shook her head, never moving her eyes away from his. A faint smile crossed his face. “Good.”

Cooper stood back from Charlotte. “Here’s your first lesson,” he said. “Look at me and tell me what you see.” Charlotte gazed into his face, intently searching for some hint of what he meant. Her brow puckered as she studied him.

“Your eyes look darker than normal, and a little…intense.” He smiled and nodded his head.

“Right.” He kissed her quickly, running his hands up and down her arms. “Anything else you notice about me that’s different?”

“Your voice sounds funny.” Cooper winced slightly. “I mean different. Deeper, kind of hoarse,” she added lamely.

“That’s okay. Those are both signs that a man is getting turned on. Usually they’re accompanied by lots of touching like I’m doing now. And then there’s the obvious indication.” He glanced at his fly and Charlotte followed his look. Her eyes widened as she saw the thick, long bulge straining against his jeans.

“Being turned on often happens just through touch and sight, but real seduction happens using all of the senses. Smell is really important, not just with perfume but also a person’s normal scent, soap or shampoo, and certainly the scent that comes when a man and woman are ready for each other or after they’ve just been together.” He leaned forward. “Your hair smells like fresh air right after a rain. Now I’ll always associate that with you.”

He leaned away to look into her eyes. Charlotte was staring intently at Cooper, concentrating on all he was telling her. “Sound lets your partner know when something feels good, or when it isn’t exactly what you want. Little whispers of how you feel are something I like, although not everyone does.” Leaning in again he put his mouth against her ear. “Will you let me know when I do something you like, Charlotte? For instance, do you like it when I run my tongue along the edge of your ear?” As he did, she inhaled sharply, then let out a ragged sigh. She nodded.

He leaned back to see her face and smiled. “Good. I liked it, too. Did you know that the tongue is incredibly sensitive and that it’s covered in taste buds? That lets me taste you, Charlotte, and sampling your flavor is very erotic, both in your mouth and in other places.” He nipped at her lips, but didn’t push her to go farther.

“I didn’t know it was so complicated.” She sounded breathless.

He laughed low in his throat. “It isn’t really. I’ve probably explained it badly. Much nicer to learn from experience. Come on.” He took her hand and flipped the light out in the kitchen.

Author Dee S. Knight:

 

A few years ago, Dee S. Knight began writing, making getting up in the morning fun. During the day, her characters killed people, fell in love, became drunk with power, or sober with responsibility. And they had sex, lots of sex.

After a while, Dee split her personality into thirds. She writes as Anne Krist for sweeter romances, and Jenna Stewart for ménage and shifter stories. All three of her personas are found on the Nomad Authors website (www.nomadauthors.com). Fortunately, Dee’s high school sweetheart is the love of her life and husband to all three ladies! Once a month, look for Dee’s Charity Sunday blog posts, where your comment can support a selected charity.

Author links:

Website: https://nomadauthors.com

Blog: http://nomadauthors.com/blog

Twitter: http://twitter.com/DeeSKnight

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/DeeSKnight2018

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/265222.Dee_S_Knight

Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B079BGZNDN

Newsletter: https://landing.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/h8t2y6

LinkedIn: http://linkedin.com/in/dee-s-knight-0500749

Sweet ‘n Sassy Divas http://bit.ly/1ChWN3K

 

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Charity Sunday: The Idaho Food Bank

Charity Sunday: Dee S. KnightHow Charity Sunday works: for every comment made on this blog post, I will donate money to the charity named. The same promise is made for every blog site listed in the group–click the Linky Links link at the bottom of this post to see the list of participants and read/comment on any of them to see a donation go to that blogger’s charity. We’re all different! Thanks for your help and your participation!

Idaho Food BankI’d like to make a huge donation to the Idaho Food Bank this month. This 4 star charity (according to Charity Navigator) has a mission to: “To help feed, educate and advocate for Idaho’s hungry through collaborative partnerships to develop efficient solutions that strengthen individuals, families and communities.”

Idaho, for all its beauty and being nice place to live, is not a wealthy state. We value our way of life here, though, and want to care for our own. Please comment and help me help!

My book this month is one that is coming soon, The Cinderella Curse. Here’s a preview!
The Cinderella Curse by Dee S. KnightBlurb:
One evening, in a land far away, a wife spins an adult, erotic fairy tale for the amusement of her husband. Like the original tale, this contemporary Cinderella is definitely for those who love romance and a HEA. As Charlotte dreams of her prince, James, but learns about beauty and love from her fairy godfather, Cooper, will she lose a glass slipper or her heart? One thing for sure, by the time our Cindy arrives at the ball, she’d sure like to know which man is her Prince Charming.

Excerpt:
Katherine walked into her daughter’s bedroom with a warm smile for the little girl. “And who do I find here?” she asked. “Is it a rock star, a fashion model or an award winning actress?”

“Oh, mommy, you know who I am,” the girl said with a giggle. For just a moment Katherine’s breath caught and her heart overflowed with love for this four year old person. She and Cole had made this child, had conceived her in love, trust and respect, but it still seemed incomprehensible that she was as beautiful as she was, as sweet and wonderful as she was. Katherine could so clearly see Cole’s eyes and her mouth reflected in their daughter’s face, but there was more there that was a combination of them both, and therefore all Alyssa’s. Katherine had to remind herself that probably all parents felt their children were perfect and wonderful, but with their little Alyssa, she knew it was true beyond any doubt.

“Yes, I know who you are, my little love. You are queen of my heart, princess of my mind, ruler–”

“–of all I hold dear.” Alyssa finished the oft heard phrase in triumph. She had bouncy curls of brown hair that hung down to her chin, gleaming blue eyes and a pert nose. Her mouth was most often formed around a smile.

“You’re getting too smart for me, Munchkin. What story would you like to hear?” Katherine settled her daughter under the covers, and positioned herself at the head of the bed next to Alyssa’s pillow, so that the child could see the pictures in the book and also be in place to fall asleep.

“Cinderella!”

“Okay, Cinderella it is.” Katherine reached for the book from the stack of those on the bedside table and opened it to the first page.

“Once upon a–”

“No, mommy. You’ve got to start with the title.”

With a small smile Katherine turned to the title page and started over. “Cinderella.” She flipped back to the story. “Once upon a time…”

Minutes later, long before the clock had struck midnight and the glass slipper had been lost, Alyssa was sleeping. Katherine stood and moved her slightly, so that she was in the center of the bed. She smoothed Alyssa’s hair from her face and kissed her forehead, making sure that her stuffed bunny was firmly secured in her arm and that she was warmly covered. As Katherine turned, she saw Cole leaning against the doorjamb, watching her with a tender expression.

“You know that I think you’re the most beautiful woman on the face of the earth, but when I see you with Alyssa, it’s almost too much. You two are the most important things in my life.”

Katherine turned out the bedside lamp and walked into Cole’s arms, stretching into him as he stroked her back and nuzzled her hair.

“As the two of you are to me,” Katherine responded. “Let’s go downstairs.” With Cole’s arm wrapped around her shoulders they made their way to the living room.

Cole had started a fire and the room was warm and softly lighted by the flames; crackling of the burning logs and popping as sap hit the heat of the fire were the only sounds.

Cole poured glasses of wine and they rested, Katherine against his chest in the circle of his arm, Cole leaning against the rounded arm of the sofa. They sat peacefully for several moments, staring into the fire. With his hand over her shoulder, Cole caressed Katherine’s breast; she rested her hand on his leg, with her elbow covering and lightly putting pressure on the bulge in his pants.

“Are you going to tell me a bedtime story now?” asked Cole.

“Would you like one?” He kissed the top of her head and nodded.

“Okay, do you like Cinderella, too?”

“Sure. The adult version, however. I didn’t mind the children’s version when I was a child, although I always thought the prince was too much of a sissy. I thought she should find a good warrior to marry.”

“You would, you blood-thirsty man.”

“Now, I think the prince would be looking for a bit more in a wife than simple beauty and strange taste in shoes.” He looked at Katherine’s platform shoes. “Although unusual taste in footwear isn’t always a negative.”

“Thank you,” she said smartly.

He chuckled. “So make sure that Cindy has all the requisites to be the wife of a prince.”

“And what might that entail, do you think?” Katherine sat up and turned so that she could see her husband.

“Make her like you.” Katherine gave her husband an appreciative look as he continued. “Definitely she has to be a sexy number. The dress is okay, but it’s what’s under it that counts. She has to know things. Even if she’s hot in bed, you can’t spend all your time in bed, right? And she should be a good cook.”

“Good cook? And why is that m’lord? Hasn’t the prince cooks aplenty?”

“Sure, but when they’re finished having sex late at night after the little princess is asleep, who will get up to fix him something to eat if not his wife?” Cole looked at his wife through his long, thick lashes, with just a hint of a smile. “She has to know her way around the castle kitchen. That’s a must. You wouldn’t suggest waking the kitchen staff for a ham sandwich, would you?”

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Charity Sunday: Hire Heroes USA

Charity Sunday: Dee S. Knight

How Charity Sunday works: for every comment made on this blog post, I will donate money to the charity named. The same promise is made for every blog site listed in the group–click the Linky Links link at the bottom of this post to see the list of participants and read/comment on any of them to see a donation go to that blogger’s charity. We’re all different! Thanks for your help and your participation!

Hire Heroes USA

This month I’d like to highlight Hire Heroes USA, an organization that helps military separated from the service find jobs. Wounded warriors often worry about how they will support their families as much as their getting well. And members who retire from the service sometimes find what they were trained for and excel at, are skills not suited for civilian needs.

One of the things I really like is that they also help military spouses find work. I remember the years when my mom was unable to find a decent job as we moved from base to base because in military areas it’s well-known that the service member will be transferred after 2-3 years. It’s hard to blame employers because who wants to train someone who has a good chance of leaving in a short time. Yet, often the military spouse is the one left at home during deployments with the responsibility of being main support for the family. It’s hard to do that without a job.

The mission of Hire Heroes USA is this: “Hire Heroes USA empowers U.S. military members, veterans and military spouses to succeed in the civilian workforce.” The story of how Hire Heroes USA started is inspiring. This charity has earned a four-star rating from Charity Navigator four years in a row, so I know it’s a safe bet that our donation will reach the intended people. Please comment and help send me send the best donation!

My feature book is Burning Bridges (Anne Krist). In it, Paul Steinert left the Navy but he didn’t need a job—he returned to the family farm when his dad got sick. He didn’t regret going home, but he did love the Navy, and he can hardly be farther from the sea and ships than in Iowa! In this excerpt, Paul has discovered he has a gown daughter he never knew in South Carolina and he’s decided to move there in order to get to know her. He’s just told his brother and his wife.

Burning Bridges by Anne KristThe moment Paul dreaded most had just passed, explaining to Mark and Becca why he had to leave. Mark had been shocked speechless. Becca had surprised Paul with her calm acceptance, almost as though she’d expected him to come home with such news.

“Are you sure about this? I thought you just needed a break to clear the air between you and Sara, get the past out of your system. I didn’t really think…” Mark looked confused.

Paul knew how he felt. The last couple of days had proven to be life changing and he hadn’t been prepared, himself. Taking the farm responsibility fully onto his shoulders would certainly be as life altering for Mark.

“The restlessness you noticed in me wasn’t just Sara’s visit, although that’s what set it off. Seeing her made me remember being young and having dreams. I was never cut out to be a farmer, Mark, never wanted to be one. You know that.”

Mark nodded. “You always had an over-defined sense of duty. We needed you when Dad got sick and you came.” He looked down to smooth his thumb across a worn spot on the table, evidence of all the years that same place had been rubbed. “I’ve always been grateful to you. I know you gave up a lot, and I don’t know what would have happened otherwise. I guess I just thought you stayed because you wanted to.”

“I never resented being here, never. But when you and Becca got married—” he smiled at his sister-in-law, “—I should have left. I always found some excuse not to, but it’s time now. It won’t be long before Luke brings home a girl and starts the next generation of Steinerts. I don’t want to wait until it’s too late and I have no choice but to hang on here.”

“If I’d known you were unhappy—”

“I wasn’t, not at all. I was too damn lazy, or too much a coward maybe, to do what I knew I should have. Now I’ve been pushed into making a decision, and there’s only one right choice.”

He stared hard at Mark. “I don’t want you to think I went to bed every night thinking about Sara or woke up every day wishing I was someplace else. That’s not the way it was at all. I haven’t been unhappy, not like you mean. I’ve loved the years working with you and Luke. I really have. And I think we’ve done Dad proud.”

Without a word, Becca got up and went to the living room.

Paul spoke to his brother in a low voice. “You said that I had a sense of duty. That’s not true, Mark. I probably should have stayed home instead of joining the Navy. You were too young to handle much, and I knew Dad wanted me here. But I wanted to go and I found a way that no one could get too angry about. I used duty to country as a way to escape duty to family.”

“Paul, that’s not the way Dad or any of us saw it, you know that. He hated that you went to Vietnam, but he was proud of you. God, you should have seen his face whenever a letter came.”

Tears filled Paul’s eyes, but he quickly blinked them away. “I tried to make up for it by coming home when he asked. Tried to clean up the mess I’d made of my life for him, when I wouldn’t do it for myself. But Mark, I failed the woman I said I loved. I had an obligation to Sara and myself to find out what happened, to make sure she was all right. Because I didn’t, Paula grew up without knowing who I am, who she is. I can’t let her live the rest of her life like that. But I hate like hell leaving you with everything so suddenly.”

Mark’s face filled with determination. “Don’t worry about it. Luke and I can handle things, and that Lintz boy has been asking about whether we have any work. Maybe he’ll hire on when we need extra hands.” He gave a soft chuckle. “On the bright side, Luke’ll miss you like hell, but he’ll love moving out of the house and into your place. It’s just out back, but to him it’ll be like living in town.”

Paul laughed too, then studied his hands, folded on the table. When he looked up, it was to find his brother silently examining him.

“You might not have been unhappy exactly, but you were lonely, weren’t you?”

“What kind of question is that to ask?” Paul squirmed in his seat, his face flushed with embarrassment. “I’ll tell you this. If I was lonely, it was for something I didn’t even realize. I want you to know, Mark, I’ve never envied you, except maybe in the general sense. That you had a good wife and family, sure, but I never begrudged you Becca or Luke.”

He snorted a soft laugh. “In fact, I never truly understood what you must have felt, having a child, holding him, seeing his features change to resemble your own, being proud. No one on the outside can understand it. But when I looked up and saw Paula—”

His voice broke and it took a beat for him to continue. “It’s irrational, but true. I didn’t even know her and I loved her. For one moment, my heart broke. I was a father, and finally I knew some small part of what you must feel when you look at Luke. Except I’d missed it all, her whole life. I have so much lost time to make up for. So much of her to learn.”

“While you’re getting to know your daughter, you might remember that you once loved her mother. Maybe she hasn’t changed so much as you think. You’re not old, Paul. There’s no reason on God’s green earth for you to be alone.”

Paul nodded. “I know, but I think too much time has passed. Sara’s a bridge I’ve already burned. This move isn’t about the two of us.”

He recalled the night they’d shared, when he thought he’d grabbed a piece of the past and things could be worked out. When what mattered in life could be found in her arms.

Maybe two nights were all he’d ever have with her. One night to create a daughter and another to discover her. Two nights weren’t much, but they’d been more than enough to set the world spinning in new directions.

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Charity Sunday: Help the children of the Lakota Sioux

Charity Sunday: Dee S. KnightHow Charity Sunday works: for every comment made on this blog post, I will donate money to the charity named. The same promise is made for every blog site listed in the group–click the Linky Links link at the bottom of this post to see the list of participants and read/comment on any of them to see a donation go to that blogger’s charity. We’re all different! Thanks for your help and your participation!

St. Joseph's Indian School

This month, I’d like you to know about St. Joseph’s Indian School. I probably never would have heard about St. Joseph’s except for my mother and aunt. They both contribute to the school as part of their tithing, and for years I’ve heard about what a good job the school does to help children of the Lakota Sioux nation. Maybe Mom and my aunt feel a kin to the Sioux because they live in Sioux City, or because they have family in Yankton, South Dakota, where we once attended a Sioux pow-wow, or maybe because Mom has genealogical records showing she has an ancestor who was Sioux. Whatever the reason, Indian children in the U.S. deserve our help. If you have doubts, just read any article about life on the reservations and you’ll see.

St. Joseph’s has taken on no small mission:
“St. Joseph’s is a Native American school dedicated to improving the quality of life for Lakota (Sioux) children and families. As an apostolate of the Congregation of the Priests of the Sacred Heart, St. Joseph’s mission is to educate Native American children and their families for life — mind, body, heart and spirit. This mission drives our organization to educate and provide housing for over 200 Lakota (Sioux) children each year.

Child poverty and abuse are serious issues on Indian reservations. By supporting St. Joseph’s Indian School, you are helping Native American children in need reestablish pride in their culture by learning the Lakota language, studying Native American culture and healing the broken family circle from which they come.

Our organization provides an opportunity for Lakota (Sioux) children to escape extreme poverty and abuse when they attend St. Joseph’s Indian School.”

I hope you will comment and give your support to my support of this special Charity Sunday!

Maire, the SIsters O'Ryan by Jenna StewartMy ménage historical book, Maire, tells how a Hopi Indian and his best friend save Maire O’Ryan from a long and painful death on the desert—and how she steals their hearts.

Blurb:
Maire O’Ryan, an independent Carolinian bent on living life as she sees fit, is hurt on the Arizona desert, alone and miles from her colleagues. Her only comfort is the presence of an circling eagle above and the sense of a warm fur wrapped around her at night. After two days, delirium keeps her from knowing whether her rescuers are real or dreams. Either way, they’re delicious.

John Eagle and his best friend, Gus Brannigan were led to the white woman on the rock by John’s totem, the eagle, but he doesn’t know why. He understands only that he’s now responsible for the green-eyed beauty. When a crisis erupts, John is surprised by Maire’s determination to come with him and Gus as they cross the desert in search of a murderer. Long before their search ends, the men commit their hearts and bodies to the woman. But does she reciprocate?

Excerpt:
John Eagle had known when he followed his spirit that he would find something unexpected and special at the end of the flight. That’s the way it always happened when he flew with his totem. But he had never imagined he would find a woman, a beautiful white woman about to die from thirst and snakebite.

Augustus Brannigan, Istaka, Coyote Man, as John thought of him, was John’s best friend. He knelt beside the woman and felt her wrist. “John, we have to get her some help.”

John stilled his mind so he could feel what was right. Looking up, he caught sight of his kindred spirit, the golden eagle, soaring high in the sky.

Gus sat back on his heels and pushed his hat back with his thumb. “I wonder how long she’s been out here.”

“Days.”

Gus looked up, brows raised. “How do you know?”

John shrugged. He couldn’t explain it to a non-Indian. Even a man as close to him as a brother, like Gus, wouldn’t understand that an eagle had appeared in his dream last night and indicated that he should come to this spot on the mesa. Just now he sensed that the eagle had watched the woman for two days. Why she was so important, he didn’t know. But coming here and rescuing her meant he assumed responsibility for her. On some basic level, they belonged to each other because of his act. He wasn’t at all sure he wanted that. Life already held enough complications.

“We’ll take her to Bacavi,” he said.

Gus expressed surprise. “You don’t think we should take her to that group of researchers? That’s probably where she’s from.”

John looked up at the sky again. The eagle swooped toward the ground and then reversed course to fly up and toward the north, toward Bacavi.

“No.”

It was time for Gus to shrug. “We can send word to them. And your village is a mite closer.”

John strode to where they’d left their horses and brought his back to where the woman lay, still unconscious. He jumped astride the saddleless horse. “Hand her up, will you, Gus?”

His friend slid one of his arms under her shoulders and the other under her knees and scooped her off the rock surface. Turning, he lifted her to John, who fit her in front of him.

“She’s a tiny thing, and light as a snowflake,” Gus said. “She wouldn’t have lasted out here much longer.”

John agreed. The woman’s head fell onto his chest, and his arms surrounded a body so slight he hardly noticed she sat there. He nudged his horse into a walk. Augustus went to his animal and climbed into the saddle. Without another word, the two slowly rode off the rock and away from the slot canyon where they’d found the nearly dead white woman.

Once on the desert floor, they turned north and broke into a trot and then a gallop. Bacavi lay about two miles away on the third mesa of Hopi land. They had given the woman a little water and hopefully released the venom from the snakebite. She should be fine until the shaman could look at her. Then his sister and mother would care for her until he could figure out why his spirit guide had led him to her.

“Don’t worry, little one. You’re safe now.” She stirred only a bit, snuggling against his chest. Was it her breathing he felt on his chest or the rapid beat of his heart, having her near? Either one thrilled him. Either one scared the shit out of him.

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Charity Sunday: Gi Go Fund

Charity Sunday: Dee S. Knight

How Charity Sunday works: for every comment made on this blog post, I will donate money to the charity named. The same promise is made for every blog site listed in the group–click the Linky Links link at the bottom of this post to see the list of participants and read/comment on any of them to see a donation go to that blogger’s charity. We’re all different! Thanks for your help and your participation!

To often, when our troops return home from duty, they have a hard time adjusting. Veterans sometimes need help beyond what their families can provide, or maybe they don’t have a family. In those cases, the Gi Go Fund can help. Their mission: To assist “veterans, active-duty personnel, their family members, veteran supporters, and all members of the military community with finding employment, connecting to their benefits, and accessing housing opportunities.”

“GI Go Fund was first founded to show veterans gratitude and support. Originally designed as a small community effort to provide veterans with days of relaxation, the organization quickly expanded to serve as a one-stop place for veterans to receive. Since the organization’s founding, they have helped tens of thousands of veterans with unique and innovative services, gaining nationwide recognition and changing the way people think of supporting our veterans.”

What a worthwhile cause! I hope you will comment and allow me to support this group as best I can. Thank you!

Ihope you enjoy this excerpt from a novella, Perfect to the Corps.

Perfect to the Corps by Dee S. KnightBlurb:
The powerful attraction between Lisa and Bran is like a lightning strike, sizzling hot, heart-stoppingly fast, incredibly right—until she discovers the truth behind their chemistry, and his deception.

Excerpt:
“He’s still looking at you.”

“He, who?” Lisa Adamson feigned ignorance of her friend Donna Parker’s reference. In fact, she had been trying to keep from staring back at the drop-dead gorgeous man sitting at the end of the bar for the past half hour. What she had gleaned from the corner of her eye was that he wasn’t making the same effort to hide his interest in her. When she turned her head once to catch a peek, he’d caught her eye and smiled, and for a brief, heated moment, she had wanted to smile back. She’d had the urge to pretend she was twenty-five again, unworried, unmarried. Unwidowed.

“Yeah, right,” Donna said before taking a sip of her mai-tai. “I wish I could even imagine he was staring at me like that.”

“You’re married.”

“Don’t I know it.” Donna huffed a laugh and then sighed. “I’d give a lot to be lusted after by a guy like him. Hell, I’d love it if Sam would just look at me like that now and then. Unfortunately, my body not only feels like I’ve had three kids, it looks it.”

Grinning, Lisa said, “Such Is the curse of an English teacher who has thousands of papers to grade while sitting at her desk. You should have gone in for phys. ed., like I did.”

“Don’t be smug.” Donna grumbled.

“I have reason. Phys. ed. has few tests that have to be graded and no essays,” Lisa said, laughing. “And don’t give me that hang-dog look. You’re only a size larger than you were in college, and you know it. Are you sure the Hot Hunk isn’t staring at you?”

“Two sizes, and let’s just test that theory, shall we?” Donna turned to face the man fully, smiled like the beauty queen she used to be and held up her mai-tai in a welcoming salute.

“Oh, god,” Lisa groaned, closing her eyes and slumping down in her seat. But she cracked open one eye enough to see him fix his gaze on her. Her heart stopped. For a moment—for one breath-taking moment—she thought Mark sat at the bar, sending that cocky, sure smile her way. She used to melt under the power of that smile and then do anything he asked to make him happy.

And she had. Or rather, they made each other happy, for six years and five months, through one rough deployment to Iraq and a second even rougher one, when he didn’t come back.

“He’s coming over. And yes, I’m sure he’s not staring at me.”

Lisa snapped out of her daydream. “What?” Sure enough, tall, dark and handsome ambled their way, balancing another mai-tai for Donna and two beers. “What have you done?”

“Something we should have done twenty-seven minutes ago. He’ll liven up this dreary, rainy day. Good thing we decided to stay inside instead of going to the outlet mall.”

His walk seemed casual but he was controlled, very controlled. Lisa watched carefully. He appeared to be totally focused on her, but with a small turn of his head he took in everything and everyone in the bar. Something about the way he managed to know what went on around him and yet made her feel the center of attention was sexy and flattering. Her pulse pounded. Who was this man, and why was he headed straight for her?

“Oh. My. God,” Donna whispered. “He’s even more gorgeous up close.”

Lisa concentrated on nothing but biceps bulging beneath a light blue tee, broad shoulders, jeans hugging narrow hips. He must have been six feet at least, and all of him, from slightly shaggy brown hair and chocolate brown eyes to well-worn sneakers was nothing short of perfection.

“Ladies,” he said. “I took the liberty of bringing refills.”

“And not a moment too soon,” Donna said, pushing aside her empty glass as she accepted a fresh mai-tai.

“And an indy brew for you.” He placed a brown bottle in front of Lisa.

“How did you know this is what I like?”

Before answering, he raised his brows and pointed his own bottle toward one of the empty chairs.

“Please, join us,” Donna said. “Any god who brings drinks to thirsty ladies is welcome.”

“Thanks.” He slid into the chair nearest Lisa. “I don’t want this to sound spooky, but I have been sitting over there for quite a while. I saw when you got your last two orders.”

“And you paid attention,” Lisa said.

“I did.”

He smiled, a crooked little smile that showed one deep dimple. It washed over her like sunshine, pushing the darkness of the last two years away. Lost, she blinked, trying to remember Mark and how he’d filled her life, indeed how they’d started filling each other’s lives right here on this beach, in the hotel room up the hall from the one she and Donna shared this week.

But right here, right now, she couldn’t tear her gaze from this man.

“You two are making me horny,” Donna said, taking a healthy gulp of fruity rum.

“Donna!” Lisa gasped out on a laugh. Perfect Stranger laughed, too.
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Charity Sunday: Hurricane’s Heroes

Charity Sunday: Dee S. KnightHow Charity Sunday works: for every comment made on this blog post, I will donate money to the charity named. The same promise is made for every blog site listed in the group–click the Linky Links link at the bottom of this post to see the list of participants and read/comment on any of them to see a donation go to that blogger’s charity. We’re all different! Thanks for your help and your participation!

What happens to military and law enforcement dogs who are retired? Some of the lucky ones are adopted, maybe by their previous partners. But due to the services they provided when on duty, they often need specialized care. Hurricane’s Heroes help with that. Hurricane’s Heroes “…provides ‘retired law enforcement and military dogs’ with subsidized veterinary care so they can live a long and healthy life. Often these incredible dogs are the unsung heroes behind the operations put in place to keep us safe.”
Dog handlers and the rest of the team depend on the skills of these remarkable animals. I’m looking forward to contributing to their chance to retire and be “just dogs.”

I can’t think right off of a book I’ve written that has a dog, but I have one that features a horse, so that’s what I’m featuring today.
Regan, Book 1 of the Sisters O’Ryan series

Regan by Jenna StewartBlurb:
Joining in the westward migration, Davey and Regan O’Ryan Stone bought an Oregon farm sight unseen, hungering for adventure. Davey regretted the impulse far past the point of no return, and then he died. Now, unskilled and alone on her farm, Regan fears going home a failure—as a daughter, a wife and a farmer. With money quickly running out, she gladly accepts the offer of help from Seth Pratt, an acquaintance from the wagon train, and his friend Haywood Lawrence.

One-armed Seth seeks work at the remote farm at the end of an Oregon trail with low expectations. When he finds Regan, alone and widowed, he tamps down desire. She deserves better than a man handicapped in war, searching for his soul. She’s worthy of someone like his Shakespeare-spouting, best friend, Hay. Nothing could have prepared Seth for Regan’s simple solution—that both men stay. On the farm and in her bed.
“I might not have recognized her right off, but I sure haven’t ever forgotten her, Koda,” he whispered. “She’s alone out here, and she needs help.” The horse nodded his head and then whinnied. “You’re right,” Seth conceded. “It’s too much to think there’s a place for me here.”

Book links:
Amazon
B&N

Excerpt:
Koda stomped his front left hoof and shook his mane, before calmly munching on another mouthful of hay.

Seth clicked his tongue. “I know. There’s no need my arguing with the notion.”

“So you do carry on conversations with your horse, Mr. Pratt.”

Seth spun around, dropping the brush. “Mrs. Stone. I didn’t hear you.”

She smiled. “I only came down to make sure you found everything to your satisfaction.”

“The bunkroom is nice, and Koda is very happy with his stall.”

She stepped forward and stroked the Appaloosa’s nose. “He’s beautiful. What does Koda mean?”

“It’s Sioux for friend.”

“Well named.” Regan took a carrot from her pocket and fed it to the horse. She gestured toward the pinto in the neighboring stall. “That’s Twinkle. It’s Carolinian for she makes my eyes shine. At least according to my daddy. He says when he gave her to me for my fifteenth birthday, my eyes lit up. He named the horse on the spot.” She strolled over to feed Twinkle a carrot, too.

Hay came around the stall and leaned on the post. Seth didn’t care at all for the familiar way his eyes followed Regan Stone’s every movement. Then Seth leaned against Koda and gave in, watching her graceful walk. Her voice fell on his ears like a melody. Auburn tendrils escaped from a loose bun and framed her small, round face. Her father had named the horse aptly. Her eyes did twinkle, but not just when she looked at the pinto. Her height lent her a regal air. He longed to hold her against him. With her slender frame and unusual height, they would fit perfectly.

Don’t think about it. It will never happen. Daydreams aside, the differences in their social stature and culture leapt out at him. Still, arousal struck just watching her stroke her horse’s nose. He imagined her stroking him and gasped at the flame of desire that struck. When she swung back toward him he thought she must have heard.

“I almost forgot!” She smiled over Seth’s shoulder to the next stall. “Here’s a carrot for your horse, too, Hay.” Then she walked to the end stall where another horse stood quietly. “And one for you, Jethro.”

Seth didn’t think to wonder about the fourth horse in the barn. His conscious thought stopped when she called Hay Hay. Seth knew her first, or knew of her, more accurately, and that scoundrel had worked his charm on her to the point she already used his nickname. Good thing he was leaving. The knowledge that Hay would soon be far from Regan took the sting out of the fact that he, too, had to go now that there was no job.

“…I’ll see you then,” she said.

What had she said? His indignation over her use of Hay had waylaid his mind. “All right,” he replied, hoping he wouldn’t end up making a damn fool of himself.

With another smile, she strode from the barn leaving Seth in more emotional turmoil than he’d known in years.

“Now there’s a nice lady,” Hay said.

“She’s awright.” Seth vigorously set to work on Koda’s coat, not wanting to talk to Hay about anything right now, but especially not about Regan.

“All right? Bullshit, my taciturn friend. Too bad there’s no job after all. I might have considered staying on for awhile myself.”

“Right, too bad.”

Hay’s laugh came through the wooden slats. “I think she likes you.”

“Sure. Talk about bullshit.” Since coming home from the war, Seth made a habit of not meeting people’s eyes. Pity filled others’ expressions all too often and he didn’t like dealing with it. His heart had stuttered when he took a good look at the woman standing at the foot of the porch steps. Regan Stone had made an impression that one, brief time they’d met, but he’d kept his distance after that.

“She remembered you. She didn’t remember me. We were on that wagon train together, weren’t we?”

She had remembered him, hadn’t she? “Not hard to recollect a man with one arm. As for you, too bad you’re so damn forgettable.”

Hay laughed again. His laughter was one reason Seth enjoyed his company so much. Though he rarely engaged in the activity, he couldn’t help thinking his soul benefitted from the sound.

“You and I both know too many ladies along our path who disprove that theory,” Hay taunted.

“You have left quite an impression on the women of the west. Not all of it favorable, I might add.”

“Still, I wouldn’t mind rolling around the bed with our lovely widow. I wonder if she would consider—”

Before he could utter another word, Seth had Hay pinned to the stall. “You will not touch her in a frivolous manner. She’s no light skirt, you bastard.”

Hay’s face split into a wide grin. “I knew it. You like her, too.”

“She’s a widda, for God’s sake. Not even out of mournin’.”

“I know,” Hay said softly. “I was only shittin’ you.”

Seth huffed and let Hay go. “Yeah, well, go to hell.”

Hay slapped Seth’s back. “I think you have a touch of lovesickness, man. Maybe you should give up this idea of settling down and come with me to the coast. There’s bound to be something exciting for a couple of troublemakers like us that will take your mind off the beautiful widow.”

“I think I’ll stick it out around here for a while. Maybe look in town for a job.”

Hay shook his head. “She has you flustered, I can tell.”

Seth went back to finish Koda. “How?”

“You rarely talk to a person this much.” Hay chuckled and picked up his jacket.

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Charity Sunday: Homes for Our Troops

Charity Sunday: Dee S. KnightHow Charity Sunday works: for every comment made on this blog post, I will donate money to the charity named. Thanks for your help and your participation!

Homes for OUr TroopsWelcome to this month’s Charity Sunday! This month I’m highlighting Homes for Our Troops https://www.hfotusa.org/ . The mission of Homes for Our Troops is this: “To build and donate specially adapted custom homes nationwide for severely injured post-9/11 Veterans, to enable them to rebuild their lives.”

Even if you’ve had only a broken leg (or hip or arm or had knee surgery) you can appreciate the barriers posed in our homes. If your home has steps, for instance, think of the handicap injured or wounded folks have in getting around. Homes for Our Troops takes into consideration not only steps, but height of a stove or sink, whether a shower is handicap accessible, etc. These can be priceless accommodations for the man or women who wants to be independent. I hope you will take a look at their website and see what all they do.

Burning Bridges by Anne KristI’d like to share an excerpt from Burning Bridges, where the hero is a sailor on his way to the war in Vietnam.
Blurb:
Letters delivered decades late send shock waves through Sara Richards’s world. Nothing is the same, especially her memories of Paul, a man to whom she’d given her heart years before. Now, sharing her secrets and mending her mistakes of the past means putting her life back together while crossing burning bridges. It will be the hardest thing Sara’s ever done.

Buy link: Kindle Unlimited

Excerpt:
Sara stared at the letters arranged before her in numerical order. The moment in time she and Paul shared was long ago, yet her dream had conjured his presence as though she’d just seen him. In her mind, his blue eyes darkened with passion before his lips captured hers, and he moaned his appreciation when their tongues met. She tasted his sweetness and knew the steel of his arms as he held her. How many nights had she put herself through hell reliving those memories? Too damn many.

After the concert, they’d met clandestinely on weekends, mostly at Sandbridge, where they could walk and talk undisturbed. With each meeting, stirrings built deep in Sara that pushed her to want more, but Paul insisted they restrain themselves because of her age.

Then the weekend before he shipped out, she’d planned a surprise and her life changed forever.

The kettle screeched, bringing her back to the present. Sara prepared a cup of tea and then picked up the envelope marked twenty-eight. At one time, she would have given her right arm to hold this letter. Now, curiosity and the desire for a brief escape drove her more than the passion of youth. Blind love had faded when she’d had no word to bolster her during the long weeks after the ship left.

First had come the waiting. No letters arrived, even though she wrote him daily. There were no phone calls, no notes, no anything, for days that dragged into weeks then crept into months.

Anticipation morphed into anxiety. She worried he was sick or hurt and unable to write.

One day she admitted that Paul must be afraid to write for some reason, and she feared what he would say if she did receive a letter. That their time together had been a mistake, that she was too young to be in love. That he really loved someone else and Sara had been only a stand-in while he was in Virginia. Perversely, she began to sigh with relief when she arrived home and found no word.

Now, knowing why she hadn’t received mail, what would she feel if she opened this letter and her old fears proved to be true?

“Nothing,” she murmured. “Paul’s dead. He can’t hurt me anymore.” At the very least, his letters might allow her to put his ghost to rest. For that reason alone, she had to read them.

She slid her thumb under the flap and ripped the envelope open. A single sheet held his hurried scrawl.

Charity Sunday: Alternatives to Violence of the Palouse

Charity Sunday: Dee S. KnightHow Charity Sunday works: for every comment made on this blog post, I will donate money to the charity named. Thanks for your help and your participation!

This month I choose a charity close to home for my donation. It’s the Alternatives to Violence of the Palouse. Violence in the home can happen at any time, sadly, but it seems even worse during additional times of stress—like holidays and during this horrible time we’ve been going through lately, with the virus. We’ve been stuck inside. All of us. Not everyone knows how to handle such situations, made worse by worry about jobs and money, and schools, etc.

ATVP has stayed open, recognizing that victims of domestic violence may have nowhere else to go if they are closed. Their mission is: “ATVP provides 24 hour emergency and supportive services to family and sexual violence victims and survivors and their children. Services are available for concerned, supportive family members, friends and community members.” I like that they also have an education component that “…focuses on increasing understanding, awareness, and ultimately on preventing family and sexual violence.”

I appreciate your comments!

My book this month is Only a Good Man Will Do (Book 1 of the Good Man series)

Blurb:
Seriously ambitious man seeks woman to encourage his goals, support his (hopeful) position as Headmaster of Westover Academy, and be purer than Caesar’s wife. Good luck with that!

Daniel Goodman is a man on a mission. He aims to become headmaster of Westover Academy. For that he needs a particular, special woman to help him set high standards. Into his cut and dried life of moral and upright behavior, comes Eve Star, formerly one of Europe’s foremost exotic dancers. Her life is anything but cut and dried, black and white. Daniel is drawn to her like a kid to chocolate. Nothing good can come of this attraction. Or can it? He is after all, a good man.

Buy links:
Amazon Kindle Unlimited: https://amzn.to/2q7ovi4

Excerpt:
“Daniel, am I talking to myself, here?”

“Oh, no, I’m…” He chuckled an amused admission. “Tell me what you said again.”

He could almost hear Eve smile. “I said, you called at four-thirty on Saturday and Sunday, so I took a wild leap that you would today, too.”

“Ah.” Smiling to the empty room, he squirmed to get into a more comfortable position. “A woman of logic.”

“Absolutely. You don’t want to play me in chess. I think five or six moves ahead.”

“I’ll remember that. There’s nothing worse than seeing a guy cry when he’s been beaten at chess by a girl. Now tell me why you’re upstairs. I know you don’t have a lot of help this time of day.”

“I’m paying Jed extra to come in a bit early.” Her voice was low, as though she didn’t really want to tell him. The words struck his heart.

“You don’t have money to be paying Jed extra, Eve. I’ll start calling later, after dinner and before I grade papers.”

“No, don’t. It’s quiet this time of day and I want these few minutes to myself. Jed doesn’t mind, and he can use a few extra bucks.”

“Well, okay.”

“Besides, you won’t be calling forever. Soon you’ll be head of the school and won’t have free time for the likes of me.”

Daniel hadn’t promised her on Friday that he’d call. He’d simply felt the desire and acted on it. Then, by unspoken agreement, they hadn’t mentioned what might happen next in their relationship. They’d spent time sharing that day in their respective worlds.

Today, he’d discovered the desire to talk to Eve wasn’t an “at loose ends” feeling that sometimes came over him on weekends. After his dorm assistant had arrived, Daniel had locked his doors, put his books and papers away, and picked up the phone. Only after they’d been well into the fantasy did he remember he hadn’t even removed his gown and jacket before pressing her number. He’d wanted to hear her, find out what her day had been like and communicate his own. He felt seventeen again, with an infatuation about to drive him crazy. Except men his age didn’t have infatuations. They had obsessions.

“Hey,” Eve charged, “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded, like I was hunting for compliments or reassurances. I was simply stating a fact, the way we both know it to be. I want this to be short term as much as you do, so don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried.”

But he was. How long did obsessions last, anyway? Daniel had never allowed himself to be distracted by a woman or anything that might waylay his goals.

Until now.

Charity Sunday: Fisher House

Charity Sunday: Dee S. KnightHow Charity Sunday works: for every comment made on this blog post, I will donate money to the charity named. The same promise is made for every blog site listed in the group–click the Linky Links link at the bottom of this post to see the list of participants and read/comment on any of them to see a donation go to that blogger’s charity. We’re all different! Thanks for your help and your participation!

Hello! I hope you all are surviving this most unusual time in our lives!

If you have been hospitalized or have a family member who has been, you probably know the difficulties that arise when you want to be close to the patient and can’t be. And that’s when the hospital is close by. Being close by is often difficult when a service member is in a VA or military hospital. Wounded members only have so many places they can be treated for severe trauma. Having families present can make a huge difference in how quickly our service members heal from their injuries. Fisher House provides a way a family can stay for extended periods and be near their loved one.

“Fisher House Foundation builds comfort homes where military & veterans families can stay free of charge, while a loved one is in the hospital.
These homes are located at military and VA medical centers around the world.

Fisher Houses have up to 21 suites, with private bedrooms and baths. Families share a common kitchen, laundry facilities, a warm dining room, and an inviting living room.

Since inception, the program has saved military and veterans’ families an estimated $500 million in out of pocket costs for lodging and transportation.
Fisher House Foundation also operates the Hero Miles program, using donated frequent flyer miles to bring family members to the bedside of injured service members as well as the Hotels for Heroes program using donated hotel points to allow family members to stay at hotels near medical centers without charge. The Foundation also manages a grant program that supports other military charities and scholarship funds for military children, spouses, and children of fallen and disabled veterans.”

Jack and I have contributed to Hero Miles in the past. Many don’t know that when a service member comes home from overseas, they might come back to the States on military transport, but from there, they pay their own way. Hero Miles helps the get the rest of the way home.

Naval Maneuvers by Dee S. KnightYou know the military is a near and dear thing to my heart. Here’s an excerpt from my book, Naval Maneuvers.

Carie made her way around the side of the building and nearly ran into Todd, who lounged against the weathered wood siding. He looked better than good in a pale blue polo shirt and jeans. Top-Sider boat shoes with no socks gave him that naturally casual look that no model could successfully carry out.

“I was hoping you’d come,” he said.

“You were pretty obvious,” she said dryly.

“I knew you were smart enough to catch the hint. I just didn’t know if you’d follow it.”

How could she not? The moment she noticed him she’d remembered the feel of his being deep inside her. But that didn’t change a damn thing. They shouldn’t be here, not together.

She held her head high and tried to look down her nose at him—nearly impossible since he was taller than she, but she had perfected the attitude long before meeting Todd Baxter. Senior Chief Todd Baxter. “I wanted to walk the beach while I was here, that’s all.” Todd grinned and Carie melted inside.

“Lucky for me, I wanted to walk the beach, too,” he said. “Quite a coincidence, huh?”

She snorted in disbelief and slipped off her sandals. Brushing by him, she was glad he didn’t try to kiss her or hold her. But then she frowned. Why didn’t he try to kiss her? She’d wanted to jump his bones right there in that Norfolk hallway. They had to maintain propriety then, but here, no one would see them. What held him back? She knew an unfamiliar sense of self-doubt. Had she mistaken his feelings before?

Nonsense. Carie knew what they’d had was more than mere lust. It had been lust of stupendous proportions, far beyond a few days of burning out. Then what held him back? Knowing the military regulations preventing officers and enlisted personnel from having a relationship, you idiot.

Damn. She finally found someone she clicked with, and he had to be an enlisted man in the Navy.

The sand felt good between her toes, cool and squishy. Gulls screeched overhead and on the sand, where they snatched up sand crabs and poked around for scraps sunbathers might have left. Surf pounded to the shore and then surged forward, the sharp white of its foam sharp against the dark, wet sand before the water was absorbed. The sun beat down, making her wish she’d worn her bathing suit under her jeans and tank top so she could take a quick dip, and remembered to bring a floppy hat to shield her face.

Suddenly, something was plopped on her head. She dragged it off to look at it. SFC Baxter was stamped on the inside of a white sailor hat, brim folded down.

“I kept it for sentimental purposes when I made chief,” Todd said. When she raised her brows, he continued. “I brought it in case you came without a cover. I remember you were sensitive to the sun when we went to pick up your clothes.” He smiled. “And I know you’re quick to freckle. Not that I don’t like your freckles a great deal. Ma’am.”

She cringed at his use of “Ma’am,” though it was the proper term for him to use when a superior officer was a woman. But she smiled inside that he’d remembered such a small thing like the sensitivity to the sun suffered by all redheads. Chagrined, she put the hat on and pulled it forward, shielding her eyes from the sun.

“After all that time in North Carolina, how in hell did we never mention what we did for a living?” She couldn’t believe her stupidity. Martha had nothing on her for not asking the right questions.

“In Carolina we had lots of other things on our minds. I knew you’re a lawyer. When I thought of you, I never wondered how you spent your time at work. I just thought of how you spent your time with me.”

“That’s pretty shallow.”

Todd laughed. “Not to a man.”

Stupid answer. But it had been his very maleness that captivated her. Well, and orgasms. Who’s shallow now?

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