Tag Archives: dog rescue

Furbaby Friday With Author Katie O’Sullivan


I am pleased to have Katie O’Sullivan here to share her wonderful Saint Bernard and Contemporary Romance My Kind of Crazy, her first Wild Rose Press release.

Katie: Must Love Dogs… Big Dogs…

Beth: I’m laughing Katie because I have a big, medium, and small dog 🙂 And I loved reading about your big baby.

Back to Katie. Four-legged writing companions come in all shapes and sizes. For the last twenty years or so, mine all tend toward the larger side. Oversized, overgrown puppies who think they’re still lap dogs, who like to lie at my feet while I’m writing at the kitchen counter, or snuggled up behind my desk chair when I’m in the office.
Our current dogs are a Swiss Mountain dog mix, and a purebred Saint Bernard. Since our Saint was the runt of the litter, my husband assured me she wouldn’t get too big. We affectionately – and inappropriately – named her Midget. This is her when we first got her at two months:

Saint Bernards grow fast, as we quickly learned. Here she is at six months, with the same kitchen stool:

…And with the exact same stool on her first birthday:

Trust me, though. She’s an oversized baby most of the time, which is still totally true after seven years. Getting her into the vet’s office became a huge issue (no pun intended) and often required assistance from the vet techs or a kind soul in the parking lot to help drag her up the walkway. Her resistance ended abruptly for the six months we fostered a mini Dachshund named Zoe, who had no problem with the vet and told Midget she was being ridiculous.


We haven’t had the problem again, and it’s been a few years. Whatever Zoe said to her made an impression.
When she was a puppy, I’d often blog about the crazy things she did – and how much she enjoyed life at the beach.

People often wondered if I made the stories up. Nope. But they were good stories, and they eventually made their way into my fiction, with a rescue dog named Midget bringing together the two main characters in my novel MY KIND OF CRAZY, the first book I published with The Wild Rose Press. I love stories that incorporate animals into the story line, and was thrilled when the cover featured the puppy along with the couple. Midget doesn’t look as thrilled, but that’s mostly because she’s staring at my son who’s holding her supper dish.
About the Book: My Kind of Crazy
Kendall Roarke is betting everything on making her Harwichport Bed & Breakfast into the premier wedding destination on Cape Cod, despite her recent messy divorce.
Jonathan Reynolds moved back to the Cape to take over his uncle’s business and start fresh after his own marriage ended. He’s not looking for anything complicated – until he meets Kendall, with her big plans and wild mop of curls.
Throw an unruly foster puppy and an uptight new neighbor into the mix and things get a little crazy. Now Kendall has to decide if it’s the kind of crazy that she can live with… for the rest of her life.

Buy Links: AMAZON ~ Barnes & Noble ~ The Wild Rose Press

About the Author:
Katie O’Sullivan is an award-winning writer, whose ten novels include My Kind of Crazy, Ghosts Don’t Lie, Crazy About You, and the Son of a Mermaid series for teen readers: Descent, Defiance, and the forthcoming Deception (available December 15). A recovering English major, she earned her degree at Colgate University and now lives on Cape Cod with her family and big dogs, drinking way too much coffee and inventing new excuses not to dust.
Website ~ Blog ~ Facebook ~ Twitter ~ Goodreads ~ Amazon Author Page

Thanks for stopping by! Please leave Katie a comment.

Furbaby Friday with Author Barbara Edwards!


I’m very glad to welcome fellow Wild Rose Press Author Barbara Edwards to the blog to share her beloved dog, Dixie, and the holiday romance she was inspired to write entitled Dixie’s Gift.

(Dixie, a Belgian Malinois)

Barbara:  “If there are no dogs in Heaven, then when I die I want to go where they went.” ― Will Rogers

Dixie’s Gift, my Christmas novella, is based on memories of my Dixie who spent her days keeping me from becoming a hermit. She’d demand a walk. Taking me out of my house to enjoy the fresh air and get some exercise. She’d sleep on my feet, keeping them warm while I wrote.

We got Dixie from a retired teacher who fostered dogs waiting for a forever home. It was a serendipitous happening. My husband wanted a German Shepherd, but every time I got bitten it was by a shepherd so I said no. I was watching the Westminster Dog show and a beautiful dog called a Belgian Malinois was competing for best of show. They described the breed as being family oriented, energetic, and needing an owner who spent time with them. Since the breed looked similar to what my husband wanted, I checked with several breeders who said their females weren’t bred every season.

My husband and I were having coffee and I was flipping through the Penny Saver when I spotted the ad for adopting her. I called despite the fact we weren’t going to be home the following weekend. It was love at first sight. This beautiful dog had been discarded after a bitter divorce. She’d been kept in a dog cage all day every day. When we got home we didn’t know if she was housebroken and put her in a dog cage. I never heard such a horrible scream from a dog. She vomited and pooped and I let her out promising not to do it again.

We decided to take a chance and took her inside. She was housebroken, but wouldn’t answer to the name they provided. My son came over and started calling her by dog names until he laughingly called Dixie, a reference to our Civil War reenacting. She perked up and went to him so Dixie it was. Dixie loved re-enacting and went with us to events, she loved riding in the car, sleeping in the tent and watching the horses. Dixie went with us to Yellowstone.

I didn’t really think about my companion passing away and when she was diagnosed with cancer, it broke my heart. She was in terrible pain, but I didn’t want to let her go. It took me a week but I finally made the wrenching decision to send her over the rainbow bridge.

This story features the ghost of a dog who doesn’t want to leave her mistress alone and writing it helped me through those first lonely months. I still miss her. Dixie is buried in my flower garden next to our house.~

Beth: This is deeply touching, Barbara.

Blurb for Dixie’s Gift: Ellen Carter deeply grieves for her husband Dan, but at least she still has Dixie, her beloved Malinois. However, soon Dixie leaves her too. But the faithful dog cannot rest easy in heaven while her mistress is unhappy. Dixie pleads with the Archangel Michael to let her send help, and intercedes for Ellen in the only way she can. But will Ellen get the message, and more importantly, will she accept Dixie’s gift?

Sexy newcomer Michael Burke can barely take enough time from his successful restaurant for a decent night’s sleep, let alone romance. Still, he is intrigued by the beautiful widow and can’t resist entering her shop. Sparks fly, and when Ellen has an accident in a snowstorm, he comes to her rescue. Trapped by a blizzard and aided by Dixie’s Gift, Ellen and Michael find more than shelter–they find love.

Cover artist: Debbie Taylor

Story Excerpt:

He brushed a wisp of her hair from her cheek. It clung like spider silk to his fingers.

He rubbed the strand and his heart raced. When her lips parted, he bent forward to taste their soft curve.

Sweet, so sweet, he thought as her mouth melded with his. His hands slowly slid from her slender shoulders to her waist. Soft as a feather, she sighed. Her curves fit against his hard chest like matching puzzle pieces.

The lights blinked, dimmed, and then flared back on.~

 Reader Comments:

Dixie’s Gift tugs at your heart, and though the snow threatens, you can’t help but be warmed by this sweet story. A must read! — Kara O’Neal, Author

“Dog lovers, do not read this book . . . without a box of tissues nearby. A touching story of love and compassion.” – Diane Burton, author of the Outer Rim series.

“Delightful…Barbara Edwards weaves a heartwarming holiday tale of rediscovering love after the death of a spouse and the loss of a beloved pet. It’s a refreshing story with a theme of joy and peace and filled with engaging characters. And who can resist a romantic winter setting with lots and lots of snow?” ~ Judy Ann Davis, Author and Educator

Dixie’s Gift by Barbara Edwards is a gift of a read. Sweet, romantic, poignant, and touching, it will bring a lump to your throat and satisfaction to your heart. If you don’t shed a tear, you’re a robot.” ~ Award winning author Alicia Dean

***Purchase Dixie’s Gift from The Wild Rose Press: https://catalog.thewildrosepress.com/all-titles/3671-dixie-s-gift.html?search_query=Dixie%27s+Gift&results=1

In Kindle at Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Dixies-Gift-Barbara-Edwards-ebook/dp/B017OJGVIY/

From Barbara: Please follow, friend, or like me. I love to hear from my readers.

Blog http://barbaraedwardscomments.wordpress.com/

Website http://barbaraedwards.net

Facebook  https://www.facebook.com/BarbaraEdwards.Author

Twitter  https://www.twitter.com/Barb_ed

Amazon Author’s Page http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B003F6ZK1A

GoodReads http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/496095.Barbara_Edwards

Thanks for stopping by. Please leave Barbara a comment!

Furbaby Friday with Author Dee Gatrell


I am happy to welcome fellow Wild Rose Press author, Dee Gatrell, to Furbaby Friday to share her wonderful dogs and humorous romantic fiction novel, Sweet Sunset.
 (Icarus)
Dee: Icarus was a 12-year-old, schnauzer. We had him since he was 6 months old from a breeder going out of business. He was an alpha male, and had the eyes that drew  you in. He got along with dogs outside, but wasn’t crazy about them being in the house. After they were here a while he adjusted and just belly growled.
My one daughter had a deaf white boxer. It ticked him off because the dog couldn’t hear him, but sometimes she could feel his growl and get nasty back. Then when that dog died, daughter got a pitbull she named Fireball. Icarus would sit on my husband’s lap doing his Elvis imitation of the lip curl. Fireball laid on the floor in front of them. When Icarus would growl, she’d pick up her head, and toss it back and forth with a big grin. Ticked him off that the pitbull didn’t get angry at him.
A month or so ago we noticed Icarus  had days when he didn’t feel good, but by afternoon he was better. The day came when we noticed him shivering and he pooped black. And two days later he couldn’t get up. Alarmed, I called the vet, and we took him in. She said she expected it to be Zeus, not Icarus. She did x-rays and blood work. His spine had deteriorated and his blood work was off. She said  he was in pain. We made the heartbreaking decision to put him down. We held him and kissed him goodbye. Our vet cried with me. My husband saved his tears until he was home and we didn’t see him.
My husband has cancer, and Icarus was a comfort dog, sitting and sleeping on his lap or stomach. We had him cremated and have his ashes on the bookshelf in a pretty box. My husband admits to talking to him at times, or saying a prayer over him.
 (Zeus and Icarus)
We know Zeus won’t be with us for long. He falls a lot and isn’t eating as well. But he’s still our sweet boy.
I recently decided to get another dog, a rescue. I applied for a dog named JoJo from a rescue shelter. I didn’t really think I’d get him as he had a lot of applications wanting him. He was at a shelter about 40 miles from us. He’s a Maltese and only 10 lbs.
I said I wanted a dog between 1 and 3 years old. They say he’s four. He was found on the street. He has no voice, just makes little noises, and thinks he’s barking at our rescue lab mix. And he has issues with food. They said he was starving when they got him, so now he has anger issue when he sees other dogs with food. We’re working on that, too. But he is sweet. Zeus is nice to him, and that’s good. Poor guy falls down in the house on tile floor, but  he can run in the yard.

(JoJo)

Zeus takes long naps these days. He likes to be with me in the office sleeping on the pillow beside me, where Icarus used to lay, or Ellie. They have lots of pillows, but always want the same ones.
The first two days Icarus was gone, Zeus wouldn’t sleep in the bedroom. I’d find him in the kitchen sleeping on the rug in front of the refrigerator. Now he’s back to the bedroom at night, but not on Icarus’s pillow.

Zeus usually has a happy face. Well, except for this time when he got groomed. I don’t think he was happy with the results. Generally, when I go to pick him up from the vets he’s happy to see me. I swear he snubbed me. At home, it took him a while to warm up to me. OK so he reminds me of my dear Aunt Mildred with the round body and skinny legs. Shhh, if she’s listening from above, she won’t like that description.

(Zeus after his haircut)

When I wrote Sweet Sunset the editor kept saying I had too many folks whose name started with whatever letter. So I changed the main man in the story over and over. Finally I named him Zack. Hey, no one else’s name started with a Z. Then I realized I had Zeus in the story. I decided no one would mix up the man and the dog.

Beth: I love hearing about your dogs, Dee. They are such characters. I’m very sorry about your loss of Icarus. Sweet Sunset sounds great.

Blurb for Sweet Sunset: Myrtle Sue Henderson, widowed, didn’t count on her mother-in-law moving in with her when her husband passed over. But Myrtle Sue’s loopy in-law troubles aren’t her only family baggage-she’s ailed with three adult children who use her like a pair of Depends. With a daughter and two grandchildren attempting to escape an abusive husband, a second daughter who is pregnant with twins, and a son who refuses to grow up, she’s at her wits end.

Myrtle Sue didn’t figure she’d ever meet another man she’d care for, until she went to church to get away from her troubles, only to find more when her mother-in-law causes chaos and hits an elderly man with her cane and helps herself to money out of the collection plate. That’s how she meets Zack. She figures once he meets her dysfunctional family, he’ll run as fast as he can-away from them.

Favorite passage from book:

June finished her food, and pushed her plate away. She gave Hazel a look of pity. “Ya know somethin’, Hazel? You’re full of shit.”

“Huh! You’re just jealous.”

Norma had been pretty quiet, when suddenly it was like she became possessed. Her hands began shaking and her drink sloshed onto the table. She leaned on the table and hissed at Hazel. “Evil, evil! You are soooo evil!”

“Who you calling evil?” Hazel said.

“You are eeeeeevvilllllll!”

“Mother, hush!”

I glanced at Lynn. She glared at her mother. I thought for a minute she was going to stuff her napkin into her mother’s mouth.

Something about my book:

There was a day when I thought only my relatives were dysfunctional, until later when I realized most of us have dysfunctional families. After many years of listening to people talk about their families, Sweet Sunset was born.

I was asked to move my mother from a senior apartment complex. They feared she would burn the place down. She caught her food on fire, exploded cans in the microwave and her doctor suggested I put her into an assisted living facility.

As I grew older, I took a closer look at my own children and friends. Presley was married to a man who broke her eye socket, Sonja is kind and an enabler, Terry looks for love in all the wrong faces. Hmm. Yep, I realized we all have dysfunctional families.

My mom wasn’t Hazel, but she did and said a lot of what Hazel says, like talking about her dead father and how he visited her. How she broke handles off glass cups. To this day none of us can figure out how she did it. June did tell us about her neighbor’s cheap jewelry party and the pole. She was funny.

All writers know we only need to look around us and we’ll find stories everywhere.

I do hope you enjoy Myrtle Sue and her family and friends. Come sit a spell and eat some of the good food they imbibe in.

***Get Sweet Sunset in Kindle at: https://www.amazon.com/Sweet-Sunset-Dee-Gatrell-ebook/dp/B01M3QJT75

Twitter: Twitter@deegat41

Blog link: http://deesnews.blogspot.com/

Website link: http://dgatrell.wix.com/author

Thanks for stopping by! Please leave Dee a comment.

Furbaby Friday With Author Claire Marti!


Welcome fellow Wild Rose Press Author Claire Marti, here to share the beloved furbabies in her life and her newly released contemporary romance,  At Last in Laguna (Finding Forever in Laguna Book 2)

(Oreo)

Claire: So many amazing creatures, who to select? Growing up, we always had cats and I can’t imagine life without at least a few cats and a dog. I’ve volunteered with cat rescues for decades and I was Managing Director for a non-profit animal rescue in Los Angeles.

Currently, we have two hilarious, eccentric cats, Lola and Beau and a giant mutt named Josie. All three are rescues and fill me with love and joy on a daily basis.

I’d like to write a tribute to a cat named Oreo, who I rescued back in 2001. Oreo was a handsome tuxedo with a unique habit of head butting you right in the forehead when he was happy. He loved to sit on your lap for petting sessions and he’d lean his forehead against yours, and then gently or not so gently, bonk your head. He immediately became best friends with my shy big black kitty Jake.

(Oreo and Jake)

In January 2010, I was diagnosed with Stage 2 breast cancer and embarked on an unpleasant journey of two surgeries, six rounds of chemotherapy, and radiation. Suddenly, I was home most of the day and taking naps each afternoon. Jake and Oreo were thrilled to have convinced their mom of the wisdom of daily naps. Their sweet warmth and cuddling comforted me immensely.

In a devastating twist of fate, Oreo was diagnosed with lymphoma in April. The vet gave him three months and we treated him with a series of steroids. Having more time to spend with him, regardless of the circumstances, was a blessing.

I completed treatment in October 2010, and Oreo still valiantly battled his disease. He made it until March 2011, when he let me know one afternoon that he was ready to leave me. I know he waited those extra months to ensure I didn’t need his support any longer.

All of my furry children were and are special and unique, but Oreo and I shared solidarity in battling cancer together. I know he’s in cat heaven, basking in the sunshine and head-butting everyone he meets.~

Beth: What a moving story and a wonderful cat, Claire. I’m sure you will touch all who read this.

Blurb from Claire’s new release At Last in Laguna:

Alyssa Morgan has secretly been in love with her older brother Nick’s best friend, Brandt Dempsey, since she was an awkward, lonely teenager. When she catches the bouquet at Nick’s wedding, she throws caution to the wind and propositions Brandt to a two-week fling. He’s tried to ignore how Alyssa has blossomed into a strong, talented, gorgeous woman because as his best friend’s baby sister, she’s off limits.

After they share a mind-blowing kiss, Brandt struggles to fight their undeniable chemistry. His tragic childhood scarred him, but he pushes it deep inside, only allowing the world to see a wealthy, carefree entrepreneur. Forced to work together on Brandt’s latest charitable venture, Brandt and Alyssa’s passion cannot be denied. Alyssa knows he’s the one. Can she convince him they belong together?

Excerpt:

What was his deal this morning?

She’d give him the cold shoulder if it killed her.

And it just might.

He’d rejected her, so why was he opening doors, hovering, and acting like a pest? Practically breathing down her neck. She could swear he’d sniffed her. Sniffed her. He couldn’t conceal his awareness. If he were so attracted to her, he would’ve agreed to her proposition, right? Since he’d shot her down in flames, he could at least have the decency to ignore her today. Rude, infuriating man.

Inhaling a deep cleansing breath, she forced herself to concentrate on the center. Sunlight streamed through the abundance of windows and along with the high ceilings imparted a feeling of freedom and space, perfect for the planned occupants. Because they’d decided to wait to obtain her input for the more specific room layout, the building’s interior remained a shell. She’d add to her brother’s amazing design and ensure Tearmann House’s beauty and serenity.

Serenity. What a concept. Ha.

***At Last in Laguna is out in kindle at: https://www.amazon.com/Last-Laguna-Finding-Forever-Book-ebook/dp/B075CDMRDJ/

Claire’s Social Links:

Follow Claire’s Amazon Author Pagehttps://www.amazon.com/Claire-Marti/e/B01N9VOWLL/ref=dp_byline_cont_ebooks_1

Website:  www.clairemarti.com

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

 Twitter:  @clairepmarti

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8203678.Claire_Marti

 Author Bio for Claire Marti:

 Claire Marti started writing stories as soon as she was old enough to pick up pencil and paper. After graduating from the University of Virginia with a BA in English Literature, Claire was sidetracked by other careers, including practicing law, selling software for legal publishers, and managing a non-profit animal rescue for a Hollywood actress.

Finally, Claire followed her heart and now focuses on two of her true passions: writing romance and teaching yoga. At Last in Laguna is the second book in her Finding Forever in Laguna series from The Wild Rose Press.

Thanks for stopping by! Please leave Claire a message.

Furbaby Comfort in Times of Grief


When the going gets tough.

(Cooper licking my elbow as I type)

Furbabies don’t understand when someone dies. They carry on as usual, but sense something’s wrong. Maybe with cats, it’s because our purr is off, or our auras are. With dogs, it’s our demeanor. They know, without being told a thing. No explanation required. I need that kind of empathy. My younger brother, Chad, died suddenly this past weekend. He’s had immense challenges for years after a tragic skiing accident as a freshman in college left him with a severe head injury. There were close calls since then, accidental overdoses of his seizure med, and choking incidences. But we always got him back, a little worse for wear, but still with us. This time, we didn’t get him back. He’s with God now, freed from his earthly bonds, but my, oh my, how we miss him. Chad was one of the good ones. His challenges didn’t diminish his inner light. It burned brighter.(Image of my sister, Catherine, Beth, brother John, and Chad in glasses)

Chad insisted on living his life as fully as he could after the accident and was an inspiration to many. His warmth and gentle spirit touched all who knew him, as did his love of nature. He spent his last hours (weeks, months) laying stone around the beautiful water garden at his and my parent’s home, a project that brought him much joy. Now, the water garden is his memorial. Chad’s Pond. Stones with inscriptions from friends and family will be laid beside this lovely site. I will help mom plant bulbs and perennials around it–a memorial garden. We found a plant order form he had already filled out, likely with this in mind.

I have admired that water garden often this week. Each time I return home from these bittersweet visits, I’m greeted by an exuberant puppy, ecstatic to see me. After circling the room/house/yard like he’s been shot out of guns,  Cooper calms down and sits not only with me, but on me. This is new. Normally, Kitty Cream sits by my head. Last evening, when I was very sad, he sat on my middle and snuggled close. He’s nearly three and has never done this before. Kitty Peaches hugs me. Jilly sits by my side. Kitty Pavel isn’t a Cooper fan, so he perches overhead on the couch. I am not alone. Furbabies see to that. Where I am, they are.

(Cooper and Jilly)

‘We long for an affection altogether ignorant of our faults. Heaven has accorded this to us in the uncritical canine attachment.’~George Elliot

(Peaches and Cream as kittens)

‘What greater gift than the love of a cat?’ ~Charles Dickens

Furbaby Friday with Author Jennifer Wilck


I’m glad to welcome fellow Wild Rose Press Author Jennifer Wilck who shares about her special furbaby. her family, writing, and exciting new release.

Jennifer: Our dog rescued my family and me when she was approximately two years old. We count her birthday as her adoption day, April 10.

After my two daughters argued over approximately thirty names, they settled on the extremely non-creative name of Midnight. As an author, I’m a little embarrassed about that, and swear my character names are better—I hope!

I have no idea why her original family gave her up, because she is the smartest, most well behaved dog, I’ve ever known.

She learned her name within three days.

We don’t let her upstairs because of my allergies, and not only did she learn not to go upstairs within the first day at our house, but she transfers that training to my parents’ house as well.

She can tell, based on the clothes I wear when I come downstairs in the morning whether or not I’m taking her for a walk (even my kids don’t do that!).

She only eats food if you tell her to, which means when you drop food on the floor, she looks at you first before going after it. An awesome trait, except that I STILL have to vacuum up crumbs.

(Midnight at the vet hoping for a treat)

She likes people better than animals. When we walk, she goes up to the human while their dog goes up to her. However, her best dog friend is Chester, a 90-pound hound. She’s 30 pounds. And she thinks she’s the alpha. She makes him walk behind her and she barks at any dog that tries to come near him. She’s fickle in her affections, though, and if she’s not in the mood for him to sniff her, she runs through his legs. Or she turns her head away and refuses to look at him. Poor guy.

I spend a lot of time at my computer—I’m a writer, after all. When she wants attention, she sits at my feet and leans against my legs. If I don’t notice her, she bangs against me. So I stop, rub her back and give her the attention we both need. Sitting all day would otherwise be boring and unhealthy.

Walking her in the morning provides me with inspiration. We live on a lake and it’s 3.5 miles around. She loves it because she gets exercise and a chance to sniff everything. I love it because it gets me moving, gets my creative juices flowing and wakes me up.

We’re a good team, she and I. And I think I might be a better writer because of her.

Beth: What a touching story about Midnight rescuing you and your family, Jennifer. I agree, that’s often the way with our ‘rescues.’ They actually rescue us.

Jennifer: Addicted to Love is my first contemporary romance with The Wild Rose Press. It’s the first book in an anticipated three-book series. While the story is a mainstream romance, the characters are Jewish, which I think adds some spice and variety to the story, especially the meddlesome-yet-loveable grandma and the food! The setting is Hoboken, NJ and New York City. And, like many of my other books, there is a child. In this case, she’s a teenager. As the mom of two teen girls, I have a lot of experience in this area, and it was fun creating a relatable character that showcases the best side teenage girlhood (and, of course, a few eye rolls, because, you know, teenagers!). I hope you enjoy it!

Blurb: Dan Rothberg struggled after an accident killed his wife and he nearly lost custody of his daughter. He can no longer allow himself to get attached to anything or anyone. Until he meets Hannah.

Hannah Cohen is a young executive with a meddlesome grandmother and a troubled brother. She’d like nothing better than to find her own Mr. Right, after too many Mr. Wrongs. A sexy older man with a teenage daughter was never in her plans.

As they navigate their relationship through adolescent attitudes and grandmotherly interference, they realize age is just a number and love can be right in front of them. But when the terrible truth of Dan’s former struggles is exposed, Hannah must decide if she can get past his deception and allow love to conquer all.

Buy Links:

The Wild Rose Press: https://catalog.thewildrosepress.com/all-titles/5133-addicted-to-love.html?search_query=jennifer+wilck&results=2

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Addicted-Love-Serendipity-Book-1-ebook/dp/B071HZQS4S/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1499096714&sr=8-1&keywords=jennifer+wilck

Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/addicted-to-love-jennifer-wilck/1126454796?ean=2940157486310

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/addicted-to-love-13

Biography: Jennifer started telling herself stories as a little girl when she couldn’t fall asleep at night. Her favorite stories to write are those with smart, sassy, independent heroines; handsome, strong and slightly vulnerable heroes; and her stories always end with happily ever after.

In the real world, she’s the mother of two amazing daughters and wife of one of the smartest men she knows. When she’s not writing, she loves to laugh with family and friends, is a pro at finding whatever her kids lost in plain sight, and spends way too much time closing doors that should never have been left open. She believes humor is the only way to get through the day and doesn’t share her chocolate.

She writes contemporary romance, some of which are mainstream and some of which involve Jewish characters. All are available through Amazon and Barnes & Noble.

Social Media:

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Jennifer-Wilck-201342863240160/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/JWilck

Website: http://www.jenniferwilck.com

Blog: http://jenniferwilck.blogspot.com

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/jenniferwilck/

Furbaby Friday with Author P.L. Parker


Friend and fellow Author P.L. Parker is sharing about her amazing childhood friend, a little dog with a big heart who didn’t know he was small, and giving away a copy of her featured romance. More on that below.

…And then there was Spike

(Spike with Patsy’s brother)

He was already 2 years old when Grandma and Grandpa found him for us. Scrawny and ugly, dirty brown and unkempt, he was a far cry from Sandy, our beautiful little Chihuahua who’d recently died of kennel cough. He had the large soulful eyes and a baby face and his name was Spike, a strange name for a little part Chihuahua/terrier who barely weighed in at 5 pounds. He was scared and mean, having spent the first two years of his life beaten and tied up in a dark basement, maturing without anyone to train him or give him love.

The first few days, he hid under a chair and as we walked by, he’d jump out and bite our ankles and then dive back into his hidey-hole. Finally, my dad got disgusted, put on a pair of leather gloves and dragged him out biting and squealing. Dad sat him on his lap, talked soothingly to him, petting his back until he settled down. One by one, Dad had us come over slowly, put our hand out so Spike could smell it and then, if Spike was willing, we could pet him. After we’d all introduced ourselves, it was if Spike said “okay, these are my people.” He got down off of Dad’s lap and found his food bowl. That was the beginning of our life with Spike. Once the good food and lots of love kicked in, Spike’s coat turned into a beautiful light golden blonde.

He was gutter smart, not the fancy trained pet who did everything we wanted, but he was so smart—and he adored us kids. I could dress him up in my doll clothes and he’d wear them proudly for as long as I wanted.

I had a special connection with him. I could just tell him things and he would do it. I had a pet hamster once and we were playing in the back yard. Mom called me in to do something. I told Spike to keep the hamster in the back yard, went in the house and promptly forgot about them. Hours later, near dark, Mom asked: “Anybody seen Spike?” Oops.  I ran outside and there was Spike still herding the hamster around the back yard. I apologized and picked the hamster up. Spike glared at me as if to say “you idiot,” and then marched into the house and ate his dinner.

There was a human trapped inside that little body. He was a hunter, a protector and from his point of view, a German Shepard. There wasn’t a dog in the world he wouldn’t take on, much to our dismay. I can’t count the amount of times he’d slip out of the house and come back so chewed up, we thought he was dead for sure. On one such event, we didn’t think there was any hope. Spike crawled under a chair for days, not eating, not drinking. (I should mention here that Spike’s favorite food was chocolate and back then we didn’t know how dangerous it was for animals.)  Worried about the little guy, Mom went out and bought him a whole box of chocolates and hand fed him. He gobbled them down and then he was fine.

He always went everywhere with us. He would sit over the front seat so he could watch out the window and even when Dad had to slam on the brakes, he never fell off. Our female Siamese cat Tammy was his close companion and she went on vacation with us as well. We never worried about her running away, she was always two steps behind Spike. On vacation to northern Idaho one year, it was so hot, we stopped along the river and we all piled out and into the water. Spike waded in and right behind him was Tammy. They flopped down in the water next to us for as long as we stayed in. Tammy was Spike’s baby and when she died we all, as well as Spike, mourned her for a long long time.

(Spike with her father)

As I said, he loved us kids. One year at the lake in Yellowstone Park, my sister and I were about waist high in the water. Spike was on the beach with Dad so we started bobbing up and down, acting like we were drowning. Spike grabbed Dad’s pant leg and tried to drag him into the water. Finally, he jumped in and swam out, to save us I am sure. When he got to us, we jumped up and laughed saying “Ha Ha Spike, we fooled you.” He was so mad. He swam back to shore, shook himself off and then stalked to the camper where he stayed the rest of the day.

He loved to hunt and no one can tell me a Chihuahua isn’t a hunting dog. If Dad got his shotgun, Spike was on his tail begging to go. We were out pheasant hunting one day and two hunters came by with their fancy, expensive hunting dogs.  They’d just come through a field and hadn’t flushed anything. Dad laughed, told them their dogs were worthless. Didn’t make them happy. He put down Spike and told him to flush. Spike ran to the brush, paced back and forth and then froze, looking over his shoulder at Dad.  Dad gave him the go to flush and the little guy dove in.  Three pheasants flew up. Spike bit on the tail of the rooster and wouldn’t let go. Needless to say, the other two hunters loaded up their dogs in a huff and drove off.  The rooster was so big, he flew off with Spike on his tail. We thought we’d lost him, but he ran back a little bit later.  Even when he was so old he couldn’t keep up, Dad would put him in a front pack and take him along.

My oldest sister moved out but came home to visit and when she did, she had this nasty part Siamese cat who was really mean. One day I was sitting on the couch and Spike was next to me and the cat was ripping at a chair, biting people as they walked by and just being a brat. I looked at Spike and said, “Go over there and shake the crap out of that cat.”  He looked at me as if to say “really?” Then he got down, went over to the chair, hopped up, grabbed the cat by the scruff of the neck and shook the cat hard as he could. He got down, came back, sat by me and yawned.  Across the room, my Dad was sitting there with his mouth hanging open. He said, “How’d you get him to do that?” I said: “I told him to.”

I have so many memories of that little dog.  You might think these stories are fabrications, but believe me they’re not and these are just the tip of the iceberg. As I’m sitting here writing this, I begin to cry, for the loss of the little friend of my childhood and for the wonderful times gone by.  He lived to be 18 years old and by that time, he’d lost an eye to a tumor and was somewhat senile, but he never failed to get excited when one of us kids would come home.  Somewhere out there, a little dog is just waiting for us to come home—and he’ll be so happy when we do.~

***Wonderful story. I loved learning about this amazing dog, Made me tear up.

A pic of what Spike might look like in color. He was a Deer head chihuahua.

A bit from the author:

I am a dreamer, an avid reader of fiction, a sometimes gardener and an inept crafter. I live in Idaho, with my husband, three sons, daughter-in-law and little granddaughter. I love to travel, but always return to my beloved Idaho. For many years, I performed and taught dance but as time passed, I decided to try my hand at a new endeavor – writing. I enjoy life and all its promises

***PL Parker is giving away a copy of The Breeder Slave to one of the visitors leaving a comment.

Blurb for Science Fiction Romance Novel Breeder Slave:

He was her salvation…or her destruction.

The galactic war between the Chiagan-Se and the treacherous Deg’Nara wages on. The human females Leah and the Irish lass Moira are captured and then abandoned, forced to fend for themselves on a barren planet light years from all they know. Their only hope is Sulas, a fugitive breeder slave, who wants nothing to do with them. Survival is chancy at best, but together, the three embark on a perilous journey to rejoin the Chiagan-Se rebels. But can they survive?

Excerpt:

“He wants one of us to find his pet,” Leah grumbled. “Like we haven’t got better things to do.”

“Well, I cannae leave my post,” the petite redhead retorted. “I need to keep track of any emissions from the Deg’Nara encampment.”

“I wouldn’t even know what to look for,” Leah grumbled. “Could be a two-headed dog for all I know.”

Sulas regarded them with curious intensity, as if he understood their conversation, which was ridiculous since he didn’t speak English.

“You will need to search for the creature,” Sulas nodded in her direction. “I don’t trust Eschel. He needs watching and Moira has her duties.”

Leah snorted, disgusted. “And what kind of creature am I looking for? I don’t recall him mentioning that.”

Eschel favored her with a wide grin. “She’s a Zostarian….”

Sulas coughed and then turned away.

What’s with that?

“…a young female, practically an infant,” Eschel continued. “I call her Zozzi though she answers to anything. She’s very affectionate and sweet but she hates the Deg’Nara. I suspect she is hiding in the rafters of the storage compartments.” He turned back to the command console. “Just call her name and then say dostia ka.”

Looks like I’m elected to lead the hunting expedition! “And what does dostia ka mean if I might be so bold as to ask?”

“Come here…close enough. She’ll understand.” He spun on his chair. “She’s been hiding for some time and probably hungry by now. I suspect there wasn’t much for her to eat in the cargo hold.”

“Any chance she’s a meat eater…like maybe human meat?” Better get that cleared up before I find out the hard way.

Sulas ignored them, staring at the holographic star chart as though his life depended on it.

            “Zozzi eats what I eat,” Eschel said. “But she prefers plants and bugs.”

“Oh great, plants and bugs.” As an afterthought. “What kind of bugs?” Bugs came in all sizes and she herself might be considered a bug in the right environment.

“She will not hurt you,” Eschel grinned again. “She’s a female and much less aggressive than the males can be.” He whistled, the shrill sound long and annoying. “You don’t want to mess with the males.”

Leah sighed, a scrap more relieved but still nervous. “So all I do is go into the cargo hold and call her name and say dostia ka? And then she’ll come to me and it’ll be fine?”

“It will be fine,” Eschel agreed. “But hurry, she’s probably scared…”

Sulas coughed again, the sound suspiciously akin to a chuckle.

“Okay, okay,” she groused before switching to English. “Moira, I’m depending on you to save me if anything happens. I have a weird feeling about this little episode and I don’t trust these two as far as I can throw them.”

Sympathy etched Moira’s baby face. “I willnae fail you,” she vowed with solemn resolve. “If you scream, I will come.”

“Just you remember you said that!” She inhaled a deep breath. “It can’t be that bad. Here I go. Dostia ka Zozzi! she trilled as she strode down the passageway towards the cargo hold. “Dostia ka!”

The panel to the cargo hold slid open. Leah hesitated, allowing her eyes to adjust to the murky dimness of the cluttered space as the musty smell of old storage bins wafted through the door. She took a cautious step forward. “Dostia ka Zozzi!” she called.

Nothing.

Zozzi. Dostia ka! Woohoo!”

            Still nothing. Wonder if I’m getting treated to a good old snipe hunt—Chiagan-Se style!

She inched forward, noting the dark corners and concealed areas where the creature could secrete itself.  She shivered as tremors of anxiety traveled up her spine. It’s just too dark and quiet in here!

“Dostia ka, Zozzi!” she sing-songed. “Dostia ka!”

Her voice sounded tremulous even to her. “There better be something in here or someone is in sooo much trouble!”

Overhead, she heard what sounded like the flutter of wings. Did the creature fly?

“Zozzi, dostia ka!” Head tilted back, she scanned the darkness beyond the rafters.

Another flutter of wings. “Come out, come out, wherever you are!”

A soft chirrup—like a squirrel.

“Come on, baby,” she crooned, making smoochie noises. “I won’t hurt you.”

A black shadow erupted from the darkness. She caught a glimpse of bat-like wings and a wide open mouth lined with a double row of needle-sharp teeth before the creature landed on her head. Hissing and growling the mini-monster attacked entangling itself in her hair.

She screamed like a banshee, tearing at the little bastard. Leathery wings covered her face sticking to her skin like strips of psychotic Velcro. If she pulled one wing free, the creature clutched her with tiny claw-like feet as it wrapped the other wing around her. It’s trying to suffocate me!

She screamed again, rotating in a stumbling spin as she grappled with the hellish fiend. It wouldn’t let go!

Amidst the screaming and growling, she heard the cargo door slide open.

Lord save us!” She heard Moira yelp. “I’ll go for help!”

NO!” Leah screeched. “Don’t leave me!”

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