Unlimited reading

plus a stolen Uber...

I’ve talked about Kobo Plus here before - it’s an unlimited reading program, much like Kindle Unlimited (on Amazon). Kobo plus is cheaper (7.99 for eBooks only, 9.99 for eBooks and audiobooks), and will only have books that KU does not. The two programs are mutually exclusive.

Lots of readers on a budget subscribe to both, and add in a library card to catch any books KU and Kobo Plus might miss. You can do that for under $20 a month and get allllll your needs met.

Reading needs, that is. ;)

If you have a subscription to Kobo Plus already, you’re in luck: 600 titles are being featured by Kobo this week, and my book Fluffy is included!

Just scroll a bit until you get to Romantic Comedies - see Will and Mallory on the cover? Click and start reading.

ALL of my books on Kobo are in Kobo Plus (except for free eBooks, but just go download those for free). You can binge read to your heart’s content. <3

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Never Fall for the Bride’s Father

We’re getting closer - February 29 is around the corner (ish…).

Here’s a sneak peek of Chapter One (UNEDITED, so forgive typos and errors):

“Hello, Kitten.”

Regret flooded through Katie Gallagher’s veins with as much force as the torrential downpour outside. Why had she ever answered the phone?

“Hello, James,” she said in the most neutral voice she could muster.

“How about Jackson Hole for dinner tonight?”

Synapses fired quickly, connecting neurons to facts in her mind as she realized Wyoming currently housed the highest concentration of billionaires and millionaires in the world. Private masterminds like the one James was hinting at were once-in-a-lifetime opportunities for someone like her.

And she was about to say no.

“Sounds wonderful, but -- ”

“Excellent. I’ll have Nell book it.”

Typical James McCormick, founder of Fortune 500 conglomerate Anterdec, and seventy-something self-made billionaire who only heard what he wanted to hear.

The first two words.

Not the third.

“But,” Katie said loudly, squaring her shoulders with resolve, fighting the voice inside that told her she was making an enormous mistake, “I can’t.”

A soft, annoyed chuckle shot straight through her bones into the marrow. “What could possibly be more important than Jackson Hole right now?”

She bit the soft skin inside her lip and tried to force her heart to stop galloping.

One second passed.

Two.

Three.

He cleared his throat.

“Kitten, I’m not asking twice.”

“I have a life, James. A business. I’m partner, and -- ”

“This is about a wedding?” Scathing contempt radiated through the phone. “Whose wedding?”

“It’s not about a specific wedding, James. It’s that I can’t just drop my life to fly across the country on a moment’s notice.”

“Most women would be on their knees in awe at this kind of invitation.”

She knew he equally enjoyed the “on their knees” part as well as the “awe” part.

Maybe he enjoyed the awe even more.

“I’m not most women.”

His turn to be silent.

For years, Katie and James had an on-again-off-again relationship, more off than on these days. With a thirty-plus year age gap, and James McCormick’s need to date ever-younger women, she’d assumed he’d bore of her one day.

Clearly, today was not that day.

Tired of being treated like an object kept on a shelf, pulled down and played with when it amused James, she’d begun to turn him down.

That only made him pursue her more.

“You’re serious,” he finally said, the words cold, like a cryo-freeze spa machine. “This is the third time in a row.”

“I appreciate it, James. Truly. Maybe we could catch lunch here in town next week?” Working hard to continueletting him down, and genuinely fond of him – mostly – she fumbled at the end, her resolve diluting by the minute.

And given the rain outside, it was ablout to wash away if she wasn’t extra careful.

“Hmph,” was all he said. Then:

Beep.

Call ended.

Her lips made a funny sound as a whoosh of air rushed out of her, the call surreal. How did the man expect her to forsake all her responsibilities so she could get on a private jet to be wined and dined at an excuslive event? She was just an ornament to him.

A thirty-six year old ornament she thought he’d have traded in long ago for two eighteens.

“You did it,” she murmured, a wan grin making her face feel tight. “You said no again. Good girl.”

Good kitten, his voice echoed in her head.

Katie pushed open the front door to her office building and stepped out into the cold, driving rain of November in Boston. She pulled her scarf higher, hitched the straps of her bag and her presentation case up on her shoulder, and began struggling to unfurl her umbrella. If she was going to turn James down, she might as well go about her life and do the duties that really did prevent her from going places spur of the moment.

Rain be damned.

It had seemed like a good idea to order a dozen of these huge, golf-size umbrellas for the office, with white Wedding Protectors logos printed on them–a nice little amenity for their staff, and good advertising on the street.

And it was a good idea from, say, May to October. But the wind whipping the waterfront in late fall and winter made them more of a menace than any kind of protection. If the wind was gusting in the wrong direction, it was entirely possible that she could find herself airborne in downtown traffic, a blonde Mary Poppins in much better shoes.

She gave up on the umbrella and retreated under the portico, huddling close to the building. The Uber driver was thirty seconds away, according to the app. She peered down the street, looking for a… what was it again?

A green Prius. Of course it was green. What other color would a Prius be?

She wished her business partner were here, but Kari was coming straight from another meeting with a different client. Since she married Caleb two months ago, Kari didn’t work 24/7 anymore; she had an actual life, and Katie missed her more than she would admit. Work conversations now took place more or less during normal work hours. Katie probably could call her at ten p.m. if she wanted to–like the old days–but she just didn’t feel right about it.

She sighed. She thought about James McCormick, without really meaning to.

She sighed again.

They were friends, just like they’d always been, but the friends-with-benefits part was over. And there had been some pretty good benefits, without a doubt. But she couldn’t waste her whole life on a relationship that was never going anywhere, right?

Right?

Katie was never going to meet someone her own age–a nice guy who wanted to have a couple of kids, maybe even a dog, maybe buy a big old house and fix it up–if she was spending her limited free time sitting around the pool at the Four Seasons on Nevis, or Bali, or the Seychelles, drinking cold rosé and waiting for James to finish a Zoom meeting, or listening to him rant about how none of his sons wanted to be CEO of the Fortune 500 company he’d founded.

But she wasn’t meeting anyone sitting around by herself in Boston, either.

If only there was a YouTube video on How to Make Difficult Life Decisions...

She was very good at following instructions, if she just knew what they were.

A gust of wind knocked her sideways, and she staggered, pulled to the left and exposed slightly, cold rain hitting her neck. Time to give up on the umbrella.

As promised, a green Prius pulled up to the curb, and she ran forward, relieved.

She yanked open the rear passenger door and slung her presentation case inside, just as the opposite door opened and a stranger climbed in.

To her Uber.

For a brief moment, she was nonplussed. Then a cold raindrop landed on her nose, and she jumped in, butt on the seat as she pivoted.

“This is my Uber,” she said to the interloper, holding up her phone, eyes forward. Her right hand was busy managing the stupid umbrella.

“Are you sure?” the stranger asked as she set her phone in her lap and used both hands to wrestly the unwieldy beast into submission, the cloth and wire finally folding enough to shove inside onto the floor.

“I’m positive,” she snapped. She looked at the driver, who was conveniently consumed by Candy Crush on his phone.

“I’m pretty sure it’s mine,” the guy continued. “My driver is stuck in traffic, so I had my assistant call for a cab. Although I had no idea that it would be so small. Is this legal?” He shifted his knees and grimaced.

That last comment sounded exactly like something James McCormick would say, and Katie looked up at him sharply, her gasp unintended. This mas was older than her, but not as old as James, with a full head of thick silver hair, punctuated by pepper, and dark blue eyes. Devastatingly good looking, he was now smiling at her with the kind of charm that said he knew he was going to win this... this...

Whatever this fight was.

This Uberfight.

Hostility edged into her tone. She did nothing to dampen it.

“Yes, I’m sure! See?” She waved the phone again. “Green Prius. You are in my Uber and I am going to be late for my meeting if you don’t get out. Please get out.” Mollifying big egos was a savant skill she possessed, but she wasn’t on the clock right now.

And this guy wasn’t her date.

"Sir," the man said to the driver, who looked confused to be called by the honorific. "Can you clarify? Are you my cab or hers?"

The guy wore a blue Red Sox cap backwards, smelled like he spent every morning in the drive-thru of a Dunkin Donuts while smoking a Marlboro, and looked at them through the rearview mirror.

"I'm ‘whoever tips me the mosts’ driver. You two figure it out."

Angry heat shot through every one of Katie's wet pores.

"It's my app! My order! Green Prius, right here!" Her voice went up an octave, into I Hate Everyone territory. Soon she'd reach Mariah Carey high notes.

The car thief looked toward the driver as he reached into his front jacket pocket, a fine leather wallet coming into view. “Where’s your meeting, Miss --? Maybe it’s near mine–Boston’s not that big. We can share. I think there’s even a word for that.”

“No,” she said firmly. “I mean, yes, there’s a word for it, and no, we’re not doing that. I’m going to be late for my meeting. You need to get out. I’ve asked nicely. Now I’m telling you.” She glared at the driver. "And you're no help."

He held his hands up. "I am not getting into the middle of a lovers spat."

"Lovers what?"

The Uber stealer chuckled. "I haven't had one of those in a long, long time."

The driver showed signs of life as he casually stretched his arm across the top of the front seat and looked at him. "You're lucky." He nodded at Katie. "She's a fun one to manage, huh?"

"WE ARE NOT LOVERS!"

“Full disclosure,” the man replied, in that infuriating tone men used when they thought a woman was being unreasonable. Which she wasn't.

This was an unreasonable situation. Her reaction was completely rational.

“I do have a meeting to get to, but it’s personal. I mean, it’s for my daughter. I have to be there, but basically just to sign the check.” He smiled again, and his eyes crinkled at the corners. “You know how that goes. You strike me as a businesswoman? Lawyer?”

“My business is none of your business, and I have a very important meeting I'm late for, too. Your meeting is not more important than mine, and you're stealing my planned-for Uber. Your failure to organize your life is not my problem.”

“Hey,” the driver called back. “Are you two in the middle of a divorce? Is that it?”

“WHAT?” Katie gasped. “God, no. He’s sniping my Uber! Are you comatose?”

The stranger held up one finger to buy time. It worked on the driver.

He turned to Katie, those warm blue eyes triggering a tingling throughout her that only fed her anger. She knew what he was doing. Charm.

He was turning on the charm.

Guys like this were accustomed to talking their way out of anything they didn’t like, and into anything they wanted.

As if on cue, he said:

“Would you by any chance be free for a drink after both our meetings? I know you don’t know me, but I promise I’m perfectly respectable, and it would really improve my day.”

Her eyes moved from his grey Norwegian Wool coat to his navy ball cap to the Patek Philippe Aquanaut watch peeking out from his cuff. A red-hot ball of anger ignited in her chest and began radiating out to her fingertips and up to her scalp–another overprivileged jerk with an ego the size of his investment portfolio.

How did they find her?

“Are you seriously hitting on me while stealing my Uber?”

"I am so confused," the driver muttered. "This tip better be worth it."

“If I say ‘yes,’ is that bad?” The man's chuckle boiled her blood, but some of her anger, she knew, came from attraction.

Which just made her angrier.

“Get out.”

“Please. I really do need to get to my meeting. I apologize if I offended you. I’m really bad at this.”

“Bad at being a decent human being? Yes.” Katie leaned forward to talk to the driver. “I am the one who reserved this Uber. I'll report you if you don't help me. And I'll tip well if you do. Can’t you make him get out?”

The Uber stealer’s hand slid right past her jaw, a hundred dollar bill in between two fingers. The driver plucked it from the man’s hand with a practiced grace.

“That should cover us both, Miss – Ms. - I hope not Mrs...?” Silver Fox gave her a grin designed to melt panties, and damn if it wasn’t working.

No way was she going to let it work.

"I'll take you to Fenway for a Benjamin. Thanks, man. Lady, what's your offer?"

Katie knew what she had to do.

She scooped up her bag and shoved the door open.

“No, no!” the man called out, voice going down as if he cared, but the undertone of amusement just pissed her off even more. “This really isn’t necessary. It’s pouring! I’m not a monster. I don’t bite. I have references -”

Slamming the door in his face was cathartic.

The easy-to-bribe Uber driver peeled out like a NASCAR pro as the asshole started opening the back door, the car pitching slightly to the left. The door closed quickly.

A tiny, not particularly moral sliver of her wished they would crash into a trash can or something.

The green Prius made a hard, fast right at the light and poof.

Gone.

It wasn’t until she was standing on the sidewalk in the rain, makeup running, hair turning to frizz, fumbling for her phone to call another Uber – and leave a 1-star for that driver -- that she realized she’d left her umbrella in the car.

A rumble above, followed by a sudden doubling of rain, made her groan.

Perfect.

Just perfect.

Read the rest on February 29, but preorder now:

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Ornaments and Tote Bags

Don’t miss the new sale. 25% off all tote bags :

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Walter No Crashes Our Stand Up

My husband, Clark, is an AI developer, and our older two kids work for him now. Every day we have a “stand up,” a meeting where we describe what we did the day before, and what we’re doing this day. It’s a quick 10 minute gathering that helps us set priorities, and teaches our older 2 kids how to function more appropriately in a business setting (even if Dad is their boss!).

Walter crashed our meeting today.

We take the meeting on our big old leather couch.

His report:

“I peed on the trash can. I barked at the Plow Monster and saved your sorry a$$es from certain doom. I warmed “your” chair by the fire for you all day long and you never thanked me. Just scooched me off with a loud, ‘MOVE WALTER!’ So I peed on the trash can again. I have learned witchcraft, but have you noticed? Noooooo. I can turn white into yellow. See? Magic! I just pee outside on the snow. It was a busy day and now I deserve a treat. And I’ll be speaking to my union rep, because Heartgard medicine is NOT a treat, even if I gobble it down like it is caviar.”