Tag Archives: dog rescue

Furbaby Friday with Marie Tuhart


I’m happy to have fellow Wild Rose Press author, Marie Tuhart, here to share her darling little dog and contemporary western romance.

Marie: Hi Everyone. I’m here to share my furbaby. As you’ll see its hard to get a good picture of her not lying in her bed. Penny is a four pound toy poodle. She is a rescue. Penny came into my life by accident. I’d taken my mom to a pet expo at the fairground so she could look at the dogs available and we could adopt one at a later date. We stopped at the first rescue and my mom sees this cream/apricot poodle lying there and asks if she can hold her.

Mom sits down and one of the helpers put Penny into my mom’s arms. Yes, that was it–we were done. Penny cuddled right up to mom. So the next 45 minutes I spend filling out paperwork and being interviewed, and I have a dog. Now mind you, Penny was already 4 years old – she’d been in a puppy mill and was found in a corner of a barn on the property. Poor thing only had 5 teeth. But she was so cuddly but frightened. Got her home, after stopping at the pet store. Three days after we got her home, she suddenly started howling at night.

I couldn’t figure out what was going on, she was in her bed on the floor in my mom’s room where she’d been sleeping at night since we brought her home. I went in to check on her. She looked fine, stopped howling. I go back to bed. Five minutes later howling commences once again. Go back into mom’s room, pick Penny up cuddle with her, talk to her. She promptly falls asleep.

Okay, maybe she heard a noise of something. Put her back in her bed where she goes right back to sleep. I go back to bed (mind you it’s after midnight by this time.) Ten minutes later, howling starts again. I go back to mom’s room again, we’re both perplexed why she’s like this. So, since both my mom and I want to sleep, I take Penny and her bed into my room for the night.

Well, for some reason from that night on, Penny bonded to me. She would let my mom hold her but that was about it. In a way, looking back, it was a good thing because my mom passed away a little over a year after Penny came into our lives. On her first vet visit, Penny lost 3 of her 5 teeth. But let me tell you, only having two teeth doesn’t stop this little one from eating.

Now, Penny is 9 years old (she’ll be 10 this November as I use the date I got her as her birthday). She’s still 4 pounds, and a puppy. She enjoys lying outside in the sun, and being my companion as I write.

Hope you enjoy all the pictures.

Beth: I love the pictures! Penny is darling.

Author Bio: Marie Tuhart lives in the beautiful Pacific Northwest with her muse, Penny, a four pound toy poodle. Marie loves to read and write, when she’s not writing, she spends time with family, traveling and enjoying life.
Marie is a multi-published author with The Wild Rose Press, Trifecta Publishing and does some self-publishing. To be alerted on new releases on Amazon or Book Bub. Also you can join Marie’s newsletter where she gives her group advance information on her books, runs contests and does giveaways just for newsletter readers. Marie can also be found on Goodreads, Pinterest, Twitter, and Facebook. And her website: http://www.marietuart.com

Her latest release is Billionaire Cowboy’s Conquest.

Buy link: books2read.com/billionairecowboysconquest

Blurb:

Sidelined from his rodeo career by an injury, billionaire Texas rancher Hunter Knight returns to home to find the staff overworked and the office a mess. He hates paperwork, so he’s pleased to hear his sister has hired an office manager. But when he finds out it’s Jessica Sinclair, his sister’s party-girl best friend from college, he’s not happy and wants her fired. Even worse than her partying past, he’s attracted to her. Burned once by his gold-digging, city woman of an ex-wife, he has no interest in playing with fire.

Dogged by a past that won’t let her go, Jessica arrives at the ranch with a plan: excel as an office manager, stay away from the bulls, and no cowboys. Her father died when thrown from a bull when she was a kid, so avoiding them is key. Cowboys, well, they’re just as dangerous as the bulls. Then there’s Hunter Knight, part owner of the Double K ranch. This stubborn cowboy can ruin everything by sending her away before she can earn a single penny. Buying time with a proposal solves one problem but leads her straight into riskier territory, fighting an attraction to the bull-riding billionaire boss.

Can this city girl and cowboy survive the wildest ride of their lives?

Excerpt:

He’d caught a glimpse of those slim ankles and silky skin. He went over to the rack of boots they kept for clients and selected a pair.
“The boots here are for clients to use. There are hazards on the ranch and we don’t want anyone getting hurt.” He gestured at the bench and Jess sat. Hunter snagged the small stool, put it in front of her, and sank onto it. He reached for her leg.
“There’s no need, I can put them on.” She turned away from him.
“I’m sure you can, but I want to make sure they fit.” He cupped her heel in his palm, then lifted her leg until her calf rested on his thigh. He unlaced her sneaker, slipped it off and set it on the bench next to her.
Hunter slid her jeans up to her calf. Her shiver almost had him smiling. Picking up the boot, he worked it over her toes and ankle until it was seated before he smoothed the denim back into place.
His fingers lingered on her calf, massaging the tense muscles there. Jess shifted and their gazes collided. Amber eyes blazed as his fingers caressed her through the fabric of her pants. He was playing with fire and didn’t mind getting burned.~

Purchase Billionaire Cowboy’s Conquest in Kindle: 

https://www.amazon.com/Billionaire-Cowboys-Conquest-Marie-Tuhart-ebook/dp/B07BR5GPBV/

Thanks for stopping by! Please leave Marie a comment.

Furbaby Friday with Jennifer Wilck


I’m happy to welcome Author Jennifer Wilck to share her lovable rescue dog and contemporary romance release, A Heart of Little Faith.

Jennifer: When you want someone to do something, there are many ways to accomplish it. You can beg, plead, yell, instruct or just give “the look.” Midnight is our rescue dog—part Border Collie, part Lab and lots of other unknown parts. She’s smart, she’s loyal and she has trained the entire family to do her bidding. Her method of choice? Leaning and staring.

She’s been with us eight years, and has decided that I’m the alpha and the rest of the family are hers to herd. Must be the Border Collie in her. Every morning, she waits at the bottom of the stairs until I come down. I’m not the first to come downstairs, but when I do, she looks at what I’m wearing. If she recognizes my “workout clothes,” she jumps around until I take her for a walk.

After we walk and I feed her, she does her own thing for a while until she decides it’s time to see the world. She walks over to wear I’m sitting and leans against my leg until I get up and open the door for her to look outside and watch the neighborhood critters, dogs, walkers and cyclists.

When she wants to be let outside, she will come over to me or my daughter and lean against our leg. If we ignore her, she’ll lean harder or fall into us until we respond. For my husband, she’ll sit and stare at him.

She’s trained us well. We know exactly what she wants without her barking or making a single noise.

I like to think that if she were a person, she’d be one of those people whose quiet way about them demanded respect and obedience. A woman or man with a presence. Kind of like the hero in my upcoming self-publishing release, Gideon, from A Heart of Little Faith.

Gideon is the strong, silent type. He knows what he wants—and what he doesn’t—and he lives his life on his terms, even from a wheelchair. When he meets Lily, a widow with a six-year-old daughter, his life is turned upside down. Still, he manages situations with a look, a glance or a caress. He’s never going to be the loudest or most boisterous in the room. He won’t cut you with an insult, although he can be brusque and grumpy. But his quiet presence draws everyone to him.

A Heart of Little Faith was the first book I wrote and published with a small indie press. When that press went under, I sold it to another small press. That one went under too. I love everything about this book, and I didn’t want it to languish hidden on my computer, so I decided to self-publish it—I’ve always wanted to see what that was like, so it was a perfect opportunity. After extensive content editing, copyediting, and a new cover, it’s up for preorder on Amazon and will release on June 1. I hope you’ll consider taking a look at it.

Blurb:
Lily Livingston is a widow raising her six-year-old daughter, Claire, in New York City. Devastated by her husband’s death three years ago, she’s in no hurry to fall in love again. Besides, trying to balance her career with motherhood leaves her little time for romance.

With a wheelchair instead of a white horse, and a vow against falling in love again as his armor, Gideon Stone is the last person Lily expects to sweep her off her feet. But when a business agreement forces the two of them together, that is exactly what happens. As they navigate the minefield that fast represents their relationship, can either of them overcome the obstacles to find true happiness in each other’s arms?

Excerpt:
“What’d we miss?” Mark asked as he slid along the row into the empty seat next to his wife. Lily and Kim stared blankly at each other.
“Um…” Kim started to reply.
“Somebody pitched and someone else hit,” Lily said as she attempted to be helpful. Mark and Gideon groaned and shook their heads.
“Pitiful,” Gideon hid a smile. “That’s the best you could do?”
“Well, you didn’t tell me I was supposed to report back to you,” Lily squeaked as she tried to justify her actions. “Besides, Kim and I were busy talking.” She reached over and took a bite of Gideon’s hot dog. The smoky, spicy taste made her mouth water. He grabbed her wrist.
“Wait a minute,” he spluttered. “Are you crazy? First, you don’t pay attention to the game, and now you think I’m going to share my hot dog with you?”
“Yup.” She licked a speck of spicy mustard off the corner of her mouth.
He raised an eyebrow, entranced by the glimpse of her tongue. “And what makes you think that?”
“Because I’m so darn cute,” she retorted. Gideon pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, shook his head and with a sigh, handed over his hot dog.
Lily giggled, took another bite, albeit a small one, and returned it to him as the others laughed. She put her hand on his arm. She made circular motions with his fingers in the hairs curled above his wrist. When he covered her hand with his, she smiled and returned her focus to the game.
Soon it was time for the seventh inning stretch. As everyone else stood up, Lily leaned over and kissed Gideon on the lips. Her gaze trained on his face, he raised his eyebrows in surprise at her unexpected move. His eyes changed from amber to chocolate brown as her lips pressed against his. His lips tasted slightly salty. She wrapped her arms around his neck and his shoulder muscles contracted as he pulled her closer. She longed to taste him more fully. Their kiss deepened and a soft whimper escaped from deep in her throat. Shuffling feet and snapping chairs sounded as everyone took their seats, and Gideon and Lily pulled apart. Joe let out a whistle.
“What was that?” Gideon asked as his gaze remained locked on hers.
“My own seventh inning stretch,” she replied. “Like it?” Here goes nothing. She caught her breath. She’d thought about kissing him all day. Without a chance to discuss their relationship, and fearing he’d brush it off anyway, she decided to take the plunge. Tony said she had to make her feelings clear. She’d fantasized about kissing Gideon, but nothing had prepared her for the reality. His lips had been firm, yet yielded to the slightest pressure of her mouth. He brushed through her hair, caressed the nape of her neck like he owned her. His kiss held the promise of tomorrow; as if all she was required to do was lock her lips to his, hold on, and all her wishes would come true.
Gideon growled, leaned over and brushed his nose against hers. “Oh yeah.” He pressed his lips to hers again. This time it was firmer, more confident, a take-no-prisoners kind of kiss. Lily’s head spun and a joyful sound burbled from deep within her throat. “What’s funny?” He leaned back in his chair, a frown creasing his forehead.
The crack of a bat, the announcer’s comments, the shouts and yells of the fans, as well as the rustle and shuffle of his friends around him came into focus.
“Oh you know, first base, baseball game. You know…” Her voice drifted off and heat flooded her face and chest.
“Guess I’ll have to get tickets to some more games.” He winked at her.

Buy Link:

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Heart-Little-Faith-Jennifer-Wilck-ebook/dp/B07D3BNZG9

Author Bio:

Jennifer started telling herself stories as a little girl when she couldn’t fall asleep at night. Pretty soon, her head was filled with these stories and the characters that populated them. Even as an adult, she thinks about the characters and stories at night before she falls asleep or walking the dog. Eventually, she started writing them down. 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 her 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 in the first place. She believes humor is the only way to get through the day and does not believe in sharing her chocolate.

She writes contemporary romance, some of which are mainstream and some of which involve Jewish characters. She’s published with The Wild Rose Press and her books are available through Amazon and Barnes & Noble.

Social Media Links:
Website: http://www.jenniferwilck.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Jennifer-Wilck-201342863240160/
Facebook Readers Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/2055470311366345/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/JWilck
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authorjenniferwilck/
BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/jennifer-wilck
Newsletter: http://www.jenniferwilck.com/contact.html#newsletter

Thanks for stopping by! Please leave Jennifer a comment.

Furbaby Friday with Louisa Cornell


I’m happy to have my friend, Louisa Cornell, here to share her precious rescue dog and her fabulous Regency Romance novel, Stealing Minerva.

Spanky

A little over eight years ago, a coworker of mine told me of two young miniature dachshunds, less than a year old, who had survived an explosion and fire in a meth house in our county. They had both suffered smoke inhalation and some burns. I have always had a soft spot for dachshunds of any size as the first dog I remember of my childhood was a standard red dachshund named Fritz. It didn’t take much for my coworker to convince me to take the little survivors home with me.

Not long after they came home they began to suffer seizures. My veterinarian knew their histories and after a few tests it was her diagnosis that Spanky and Chester suffered seizures due to damage caused by their being raised in a meth lab for the first ten months of their lives. Gradually the seizures tapered off and until several months ago only occurred once a month or so. Several months ago, Chester’s seizures became more frequent and more violent, and after a few weeks we lost him to those seizures. Spanky continues to have seizures every now and then, but so far, we have been more fortunate with him.

Spanky is a happy, slightly spoiled little fellow. He has a blanket he drags with him everywhere – a combination Linus and Pigpen is my little red sausage dog. I have learned a great deal from Spanky. When he has a seizure, he does his best to find me if I don’t find him first. All I can do is hold him, but that seems to be enough for him. And sometimes that really is all any of us needs – to know someone is there. And when his seizure is over, he looks around, does a full body shake, and runs off to his next adventure. I think that is the best way to handle the problems life sends us. Find someone to stand by you, ride it out, do a full body shake, and be off to the next adventure.~

Pics of Spanky with his brother Harvey, the grey black dog,
who looks as if he was put together by a committee, and Boudreaux, my 17
year old basset hound.

Stealing Minerva BLURB

Colonel Sebastian Brightworth has a reputation for seduction. He seduces money into his hands and never lets it go. He seduces women into his bed and never lets them stay. Seducing his best friend’s latest betrothed into jilting him days before the wedding seems an easy task. Especially with a thousand-pound purse in the offing. That is, until Sebastian discovers his friend is engaged to the one woman in England he cannot possibly seduce. Again.

After seven years in a less than perfect marriage and two years as the Perfect Widow, Minerva Faircloth is engaged to the most eligible earl in England. Their amiable marriage will keep her son safe from his uncle’s cruel plans and her heart safe from disappointment. Everything goes according to plan, until her betrothed’s closest friend arrives. Sebastian Brightworth stole her heart nine years ago. What thievery is he up to now? And how will she ever survive it?

Excerpt From Stealing Minerva

“Don’t shout at my mother!” A reedy childish voice penetrated Sebastian’s haze of pain and indignation. A tirade of ear-splitting barking erupted from beneath the bed.

“I wasn’t shouting.” Sebastian shifted himself onto one knee. “What the hell!” A long reddish sausage with fur latched onto his forearm. The more he tried to shake it free the harder it bit. Ferocious growls emanated from deep in its chest.

“Precious, let the man go.” Minerva set to pry the creature from his flesh. “I am so sorry, Colonel.” He’d have believed the sincerity of her apology had it not been delivered whilst laughing. Oddly enough, he didn’t mind. Her laughter enthralled him. “Edward, take her before she bites me.” A fate she narrowly missed as “Precious?” turned her toothy attentions to her once her snout was made to let go of Sebastian.

He tugged a relatively clean serviette from the wreckage of Master Edward’s dinner and wiped at the blood on his arm. It appeared the dog had few teeth. Mercifully the ones it did have were either small or dull or both. His new shirt had taken the brunt of the attack.

“You did better than Lord Creighton.” The boy stood, shoulders hunched and hands in pockets, a look of grudging respect on his face. “He had tears in his eyes after Precious bit him.”

“Creighton? She bit Creighton and he wept?”

Minerva rolled his sleeve up away from the wound and took the serviette from him. “She bit Lord Creighton in a somewhat more delicate portion of his anatomy.” She tied off the makeshift bandage and let her eyes fall to Sebastian’s crotch.

“I’d have wept too.”

“Quite so.”

Buy Link: http://a.co/iVmr2e5

Get Stealing Minerva in Kindle at: 

Author Biography:

Louisa Cornell is a retired opera singer living in LA (Lower Alabama) who cannot remember a time she wasn’t writing or telling stories. Anglophile, student of Regency England, historical romance author—she escaped Walmart to write historical romance and hasn’t looked back. A two-time Golden Heart finalist, three-time Daphne du Maurier winner, and four-time Royal Ascot winner—she is a member of RWA, Southern Magic RWA, and the Beau Monde Chapter of RWA. Her first published work, the novella A Perfectly Dreadful Christmas in the anthology Christmas Revels, won the 2015 Holt Medallion for Excellence in Romance Fiction. Her first full-length published novel, Lost in Love, was a Golden Heart finalist. She lives off a dirt road on five acres in the middle of nowhere with a Chihuahua so bad he is banned from vet clinics in two counties, several very nice dogs, and a cat who thinks she is a Great Dane and terminates vermin with extreme prejudice.

Social Media Links:

Louisa’s Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/Louisa-Cornell/e/B00PYZQOA6/
http://numberonelondon.net/ 
https://twitter.com/LouisaCornell

http://www.louisacornell.com/

https://www.facebook.com/RegencyWriterLouisaCornell

Thanks for stopping by! Please leave Louisa a comment!

Furbaby Friday with Diane Kelly!


I’m glad to have dog lover, Diane Kelly, here to share her Furbaby, Reggie, and novel Enforcing the Paw, the 6th book in her mystery Paw Enforcement Series.

Hi, Beth. Thanks for inviting me to be on your blog! My featured fur baby is Reggie. She’s one of three dogs who share their home with me and my husband, along with six cats. Reggie was a pound puppy and our best guess is that she’s part Dalmatian and part American bull terrier like Spuds McKenzie or the dog from the Target commercials. She’s deaf but very smart, and she responds to hand signals. She also closely watches the faces of humans around her to judge their moods. She’s very sweet and friendly, and she loves to take a dip in the neighborhood pond when we got for a walk. This photo is of her playing in the packing paper when we moved back to Texas a couple of years ago after a three-year stint in Nashville. She had so much fun playing in the pile!

Book Info:

Enforcing the Paw is the 6th book in my Paw Enforcement series. The books feature a female cop who is paired with a female K-9 after things go sour between the cop and her human partner. While neither Megan (the human) or Brigit (the K-9) are thrilled about their partnership at first, they learn over time to respect each other and eventually become best friends. I’m a big dog lover, and I’ve had so much fun writing this series! The chapters from the dog’s point of view are my favorite. She’s definitely got some tough K-9 attitude!

 

Book Blurb:

A TAIL OF TWO LOVERS

When relationships go south, some people just can’t—or won’t—let go. When Fort Worth Police Officer Megan Luz and her pawed partner Brigit investigate a series of stalking incidents involving a couple who recently broke up, their detective powers are put to the test. Is this a case of a controlling creep who refuses to accept rejection—or one about a woman scorned whose fury has been unleashed?

EXCERPT FROM ENFORCING THE PAW – Diane Kelly
(Book #6 in the Paw Enforcement Series)
Fort Worth Police Officer Megan Luz
On a Monday night in early August, my shepherd-mix partner Brigit and I were out on patrol, working the night shift. Well, at least I was working. Brigit snoozed away on the carpeted platform in the back of our specially equipped K-9 cruiser. A human officer would have been fired for sleeping on the job, but K-9s? They could get away with it. Lucky dog. She wasn’t quiet about it either, snoring loud enough to wake the dead. Way to rub it in.
Her snooze came to an abrupt end when a vandalism call came in over the radio. She snuffled and raised her head from the comfy cushion I’d bought her, casting me a bleary-eyed look that said she was none too happy about her sweet dreams being interrupted.
“We’ve got a report of a broken window,” the dispatcher said. “The victim reports she believes her ex-boyfriend tried to break into her home.”
Ugh. Domestic violence is the worst.
The victim’s address was on College Avenue in the southern part of the Fairmount neighborhood, only a few of blocks from our current location. Brigit’s unique K9 skills could be especially helpful in a situation like this, where the perpetrator would have left a scent trail.
I grabbed the microphone from my dashboard and responded to the call. “Officers Luz and Brigit on our way.” I slid the mic back into its holder and punched the gas. Off we go!
Three turns and less than thirty-eight seconds later, my cruiser rolled to a stop in front of the address. While the historic Fairmount neighborhood boasted some beautifully restored homes, many of which were quite large, this single-story white house was among its more modest dwellings. My brown eyes took in the place, while the brain behind them performed some quick computations of its own accord, estimating the home to be approximately 1,200 square feet given its width and depth. White oleander bushes flanked the front porch and spanned the width of the house. Hmm. You’d have thought the owner might have planted pink oleanders to add some color, but who was I to judge? There was no garage. The house had been built long before cars were common and the owner had apparently decided not to add one, though there was a short paved driveway in which a beige Hyundai Accent was parked. The porch light was on, as were lights inside the front room, the glow visible around the edges of the slatted wood blinds in the windows. The broken window must be around back.
I climbed out of my car and opened the back door to let Brigit out. After allowing her to take a quick tinkle in the grass, I clipped her leash onto her collar and led her up the single step to the front door. While many of the other houses in the area sported cheery floral wreaths on their front doors, a large sign that read NO SOLICITING was plastered across this door. Even the welcome mat wasn’t very welcoming. Instead of greeting visitors with a simple WELCOME or funny phrase—the one at our house read WIPE YOUR PAWS—it looked more like a torture device, all stiff and bristly.
I raised my hand and knocked. Rap-rap-rap! A moment later the door was answered by a pretty and petite Latina woman. Being of both Mexican and Irish descent, my skin, like this woman’s, was slightly darker than most Caucasians, though mine bore a scattering of freckles while hers was more uniform in color. The woman appeared to be in her early thirties, giving her a six- or seven-year lead on me. She stood a couple inches shorter than my five-feet-five inches, putting her around five three. As long as we were talking in numbers, I might as well say she’d be around an 8 on the attractiveness scale. As for myself, I’d let others be the judge of that. The number I was more interested in was my IQ, which was above average, thank you very much.
The woman wore a drab gray bathrobe over sleepwear, slippers, and no makeup. Her dark hair was messy from sleep, loose curls playing about her head, much unlike the taut bun into which I’d pulled my dark locks. Her eyes flickered down to Brigit, who was sniffing at something through the wooden boards of the porch, but she responded with neither interest nor fear.
“He’s at it again,” she snapped without preamble. “I hope y’all can put a stop to it this time.”
Her eyes seemed to be looking at a spot over my shoulder rather than directly at me. I wasn’t sure if she had an ocular issue or if she was avoiding my eye. I decided to find out by shifting slightly in the direction she was looking. When I did, her eyes moved along with me, remaining a little off target. Hmm.
“I understand someone attempted to break into your home?”
“Not someone. It was my ex-boyfriend.”
She could very well be right. But she could also be jumping to conclusions. I’d learned early on in my law enforcement career not to take everything at face value. “What’s your name, ma’am?”
“Adriana Valdez.”
I mentally repeated the name to commit it to memory. “And what happened exactly?”
“I was in bed sleeping a few minutes ago when a loud crash woke me up. I turned on my lamp and found one of my bedroom windows broken and a brick lying on the floor.”
“Did you see anyone?”
“No. I didn’t look out the window. I was too freaked out.”
Funny, she didn’t seem so freaked out. To me, her emotions seemed more along the lines of irritation and anger. But maybe that was because she’d had time to calm down since I’d arrived, to gather her nerves and wits, and was now realizing that replacing the window would be both a hassle and an expense. “What makes you think it was your ex?”
“It had to be him,” Adriana said to the spot over my shoulder. “Nobody else had a reason to do something like that.”
Juvenile delinquents did things like this all the time without a reason, but no sense arguing with her. “Can you show us?”
“Us?” She glanced down at Brigit. “Is the dog coming with you?”
“I’d planned on bringing her in, yes.” She was my partner, after all.
Her lips pursed and her nose twitched. “Does she shed?”
“Shed?” Brigit was a furry, hundred-pound shepherd with approximately eighty-billion active hair follicles. She shed enough hair each day to stuff a sofa. So, naturally, I said, “Not much.”

Buy links:

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Enforcing-Paw-Enforcement-Novel-ebook/dp/B01N6DJ914

Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/enforcing-the-paw-diane-kelly/1124362830?ean=9781250094865#/

Walmart: https://www.walmart.com/ip/ENFORCING-THE-PAW/55258530

Social Media:

Website: www.DianeKelly.com
Twitter  @dianekellybooks
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/DianeKellyBooks/

Author Bio:

A tax advisor and former assistant attorney general for the state of Texas, Diane Kelly is no stranger to white-collar crime. When she realized her experiences would make great fodder for novels, her fingers hit the keyboard and thus began her award-winning Death and Taxes series. Of course her fictional heroine’s life wouldn’t be complete without a couple of rescue cats! A graduate of her hometown’s Citizens Police Academy, Diane also writes the hilarious Paw Enforcement series, which features a female K-9 team. Soon she’ll launch her Fixin’ to Flip home renovation series. You’ll be surprised to see what Sawdust, the cat featured in the series, drags in! Diane lives in north Texas with her husband, three dogs, and six cats.

Thanks for stopping by! Please leave Diane a comment!

Furbaby Friday with Christie Craig!


I am delighted to have animal lover and NEW YORK TIMES BEST-SELLING author Christie Craig here to share her wonderfully touching dog friends with us, and her new Young Adult romantic thriller, This Heart of Mine. Christie writes YA under the pen name C. C. Hunter, and she is giving away the eBook of This Heart of Mine, so leave her a comment!

(Christie and Jake gazing at her with the ‘You’re my person look.’)

Christie: One cold November day, a big black, mixed lab dog followed my son home from school. I’d only recently lost Bosco, a misbehaving and totally lovable Boston Terrier whom I’d had the terrible misfortune of seeing get run over. I was in the “Don’t-Want-Another-Dog” stage because it hurt too much. I was actually out of town on business. Hubby called and told me about a big black dog with a gray snout. I didn’t want a dog, but I especially didn’t want a big dog. Nope, I did little dogs. And I’d heard how much black labs shed. Nope, Hubby needed to find who owned the dog and get him back home. Not a problem, my hubby said, the dog had a collar with two dog tags. 

Unfortunately, one tag was for Chihuahua, and one was for a Great Dane. Hubby put out signs, but no one came to claim my son’s newest find. “He’s sweet, Mom,” my son told me over the phone. “He’s smart, too.” He tells me how the dog would follow all the basic commands of sit, shake, and roll over. But my heart was so broken, and I still had flashbacks of seeing Bosco run over, seeing the crazy dog that brought us so much pleasure, take his last breath.

“Don’t get attached,” I told my son. “When I get home I’ll find his owner.” Well, I was wrong. I didn’t find his owner, but that dog found his. He took one look at me, and I saw it in his big brown eyes. “You are my person!” Even hubby and son were shocked at how the dog ignored them and was all about me.

“Nooo,” I told him and left the room, but he followed. He followed me to the bathroom, to the bed, to my office where I spent hours writing my novels. Hubby would try to coach him away from me with food. Even bacon wouldn’t get this dog to leave my side. I relented to keeping him. How could I take him to a shelter when he was old and probably wouldn’t find a new home. But I still didn’t want to be his person. “Choose the boy,” I told him. “He’ll play ball with you. Or choose the hubby, he’s going to be the one to feed you. All I do is sit in my study and write, you don’t want me as your person.” But that big black dog, then named Jake, wouldn’t hear of it. I didn’t get a choice. I’d been chosen. I had a shedding, big, black labish dog as my sidekick.

Jake liked the boy, he liked my hubby, but Jake was one of those one-person dogs. And from the moment he looked at me, I was it.

I tried not to love him, but when someone, even a dog, loves you that much, when he looks at you with such devotion… When you can’t help but think how anyone could have abandoned a dog so sweet. Well, it was inevitable. I fell madly in love with Jake. The vet said he was probably around eight years old. He lived another six. For six glorious years, I had a big best friend who left a trail of black hair whenever he walked, a best friend who thought I walked on water. A best friend who broke my heart when he died with his head in my lap.

To this day, I miss my best friend. Yes, it took a while, but eventually hubby went to the junkyard and came home with Falcon Ranchero and a dog. A very sick dog. The vet said she wouldn’t have lasted another few days. She gained nine pounds in one week. Lady is not your normal junkyard dog, she’s sweet, sassy, and I love that girl. But Jake will forever have a special place in my heart.

(Lady)

(Lady and best friend Maggie)

I’ve always heard and believed that animals make us better humans. For that reason, almost every book I write has either a dog or a cat. This Heart of Mine, my latest Young Adult release, under my pen name, C.C. Hunter, stars a golden lab puppy, named Lady. (Wonder where I got that from?) Matt, Lady’s owner, had lost his father and now his identical twin brother. Lady offers Matt love, loyalty, and a lot of laughter.

‘A new heart saved her life—but will it help her find out what really happened to its donor?”
C. C. Hunter’s This Heart of Mine is a haunting, poignant tale about living and dying, surviving grief, guilt, and heartache, while discovering love and hope in the midst of sadness.

Seventeen-year-old Leah MacKenzie is heartless. An artificial heart in a backpack is keeping her alive. However, this route only offers her a few years. And with her rare blood type, a transplant isn’t likely. Living like you are dying isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. But when a heart becomes available, she’s given a second chance at life. Except Leah discovers who the donor was — a boy from her school — and they’re saying he killed himself. Plagued with dreams since the transplant, she realizes she may hold the clues to what really happened.
Matt refuses to believe his twin killed himself. When Leah seeks him out, he learns they are both having similar dreams and he’s certain it means something. While unraveling the secrets of his brother’s final moments, Leah and Matt find each other, and a love they are terrified to lose. But life and even new hearts don’t come with guarantees. Who knew living, took more courage than dying?

Excerpt from This Heart of Mine:

Matt gulps fear down his throat and stares at Leah’s front door. Lady, on her leash, is trying to chew herself free. Matt can relate. With what happened last night, and not knowing what her parents know, it was hard to show up this morning. Even harder to come back the second time.
A phone rings behind the door.
Nerves gnaw on Matt’s sanity.
If her father opens the door and says Leah’s still asleep,
Matt’s gonna know the truth. Leah is refusing to see him. And then what?
Damn it. She said she’d help. And with his mom riding his
ass, he could really use some help.
Why would Leah turn her back on him? Seeing him with
Paula?
Matt had explained that Paula wasn’t . . . his girlfriend, hadn’t he? Then again, how could she be upset about Paula when she was attached at the hip to Trent Becker, and all snug and warm wearing his coat?
Matt pushes that whole bitter thought aside. Leah and he are just friends.
Yeah, they kissed and it was awesome, but that was then.
An uncomfortable thought hits. What if Leah told her parents she has Eric’s heart? Maybe it’s her parents who don’t want him here?
Footsteps sound behind the door. He stands straighter. The door swooshes open. Mr. McKenzie, holding a phone in his hand, in a at-footed stance just stares.
“Sorry, I had a call.”
Matt waits to be sent packing.
“She’s getting ready,” her dad says. “You want to come in?”
Not really. But does he have a choice?
Matt remembers Lady. Maybe he does have a choice.
“I’ll wait. I have my dog.”
Mr. McKenzie stares at Lady. A jolt of nerves skateboard down Matt’s spine. The meeting-the-dad-of-the-girl-you-like kind of nerves. Not that this is a date. Does Leah’s father know that?
“Is he housetrained?” Mr. McKenzie asks.
“She.” Matt hesitates. “Sort of, but—”
“Then come in. The shower’s going. She might be a while.”
He pushes open the door.
Matt barely crosses the threshold when Mr. McKenzie looks back at Lady and says, “But if she’s the sort that poops and pees, you clean it up.”
“Of course.” He scoops up the squirming puppy. Her big yellow paws tread the air and her pink tongue is busy trying kiss his face.
Leah’s dad leads Matt into the kitchen. “Have a seat.”
Matt’s unsure if the man is being nice or is about to interrogate him. Matt pulls the chair out from the table, leaving room for Lady in his lap, then drops in the seat. Mr. McKenzie remains standing and staring. The dog starts twisting and turning, right along with Matt’s insides.
Her father finally speaks. “Want a Coke?”
“No, sir.” He remembers his manners. “But thank you.”
“How do you know Leah?” Mr. McKenzie settles in a chair.
Here comes the interrogation. “At school.”
“You tutored her once, right?”
“Yes, sir.” Lady barks, wanting down. She starts the whimpering. Matt sits her on the ground, but holds her leash and hears her sniffing around for table crumbs.
“You’re a senior, too?” Mr. McKenzie asks in a non- interrogation tone.
“Yes, sir.” Matt wishes he could drop the “sir,” but when you had a father in the army, “sir” is ingrained in you.
Her dad runs his hand over the edge of the table. “My wife mentioned you’re a twin?”
Was a twin. Matt’s nod is small.
“You two close?”
Matt nods again, this one slower. He’d done a lot of nodding with people who didn’t know. It hurts less than explaining.
“It’s Matt, right?” Mr. McKenzie asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“What’s the last name?”
“Kenner.”
“Kenner?” Her dad tilts his head slightly to the right as if . . . His eyes round. Instant pity turns his blue eyes a shade darker.
“Your brother, he . . . passed away?”
Matt nods. This one hurts. Thank God, he didn’t say killed himself.
“I’m sorry. My wife hasn’t kept up with the news. And I didn’t put the twin thing together.”
“It’s okay,” Matt offers the hated pat answer and thinks shit. Then he smells it. Shit. Dog shit.
He ducks his head down and moans. Lady’s in full hunched
mode doing her business.
Mr. McKenzie leans sideways and peers under the table. Their frowns meet.
Effing great! “I’ll get it, sir.” Matt loops the leash around the chair, bolts up. “Paper towels . . . ?”
“On the counter.” Mr. McKenzie’s voice is muffed from covering his nose.
Matt, paper towels in hand, crawls under the table. “Not ladylike,” he scolds Lady, using his mother’s words and tone. The puppy plops down in a poor-me pose. Matt scoops up the crap and is attempting to crawl on three limbs when he hears footsteps.
Still under the table, he glances out and up. Leah’s standing in the kitchen doorway. She’s wearing soft-to-touch-looking faded jeans that aren’t tight but hug her every curve. The red sweater she’s wearing does to her top what the jeans do to her bottom.
“Where is he? You told him to wait, didn’t you?” Disappointment slides off her words. Matt almost smiles realizing she wants to see him.
Lady, past the pathetic mode, dashes from under the table, taking down a chair as she goes.
Leah squeals, jumps, then stares at Lady. “What . . .” She slaps a hand over her nose.
“He’s . . . uh, under . . . there,” Mr. McKenzie’s tight voice echoes from above.
Leah squats down. Their gazes meet, hold, then her focus shifts to his hand holding . . .
Damn! Of all the ways a guy didn’t want a hot girl to see him, down on his knees holding a towel of dog shit has to top that list.
Matt frowns. “Lady shi . . .”—he corrects himself—“had an accident.”
Leah’s surprise fades into something softer, sweeter. A sparkle lights up her blue eyes. They crinkle at the corners with humor, and her face transforms into one big, so-damn-beautiful smile. He’s captivated.
She giggles—falls back on her butt. Lady rushes her with puppy excitement.
Leah’s laughter is like a song you want to sing along with. One he hasn’t sung in a long time. He wants that back. He wants to be able to let go of the pain he’s felt since his father died, since his brother died, and laugh like that. Laugh so free—free of grief.
Then Mr. McKenzie’s laughter roars above. Even Lady makes happy puppy sounds. Then it happens. A light feeling swells in his chest and his own laughter spills out. He can’t remember the last time he’s laughed so spontaneously. But for these few seconds, he doesn’t want to think about it.
He just wants to enjoy it. He knows it won’t last long, because in just a minute his heart is going to remember everything he’s lost.~

Get This Heart of Mine in Kindle at: https://www.amazon.com/This-Heart-Mine-C-Hunter/dp/1250131650/

Christie: Thank you for having me today. I love reminiscing about my furbabies.

Beth: I loved hearing about them!

***Thanks for stopping by! Please leave Christie a comment and remember, she’s giving away an e-copy of her new Young Adult release, This Heart of Mine.

Furbaby Friday with Gerri Bowen


I’m very glad to welcome animal lover, Gerri Bowen, here to share her furbabies and her paranormal romance, Discovery and Love In Gettis (the second of three novels set in Gettysburg). She writes ‘Stories with Humor, The Impossible, and Love.’

Gerri: I’ve always had cats or dogs in my life. Bundy was my first adult dog. She was a puppy when I got her, and I spent the first couple of nights sleeping on the kitchen floor with her. She cried otherwise.
Sushi was a small kitten when found in a hedge and slept in my armpit the first night. The vet said he was about 99% Siamese. He was the best cat, almost like a dog. Smart and greeted me at the front door when I came home. Iggy was a little grey cat. Sweet and shy. Bree came after Bundy passed. The three kittens came along although one had to be put down. She ate a string and, sadly, it didn’t pass but wrapped around her intestines.
Tawny is my dog now, a red heeler mix. She and the cats, Sally and Loupie sometimes sleep together.

(Tawny and kitty friend)

Our pets sometimes display what I think of as human characteristics, a look, a cocked head. I can almost hear what they’re thinking. Which got me to thinking about having a character in an animal body, but with a human or a human-like brain inside. So in my novel LOVE’S BLOOD, I had a Raven, a Cheetah and a Dog discussing events and helping to move the story along with their actions. In DISCOVERY AND LOVE, I have 2 dogs, and two cats, three of them the same characters from the LOVE’S BLOOD and also in the first book in the LOVE IN GETTIS series, ESCAPE TO GETTIS…AND LOVE. They also appear in the third book, SERENITY: ACCEPTANCE AND LOVE…IN GETTIS.

Excerpt from Discovery and Love In Gettis:

Daisy put her head between Laurels knees and looked up at her.
Laurel slowly petted her. “I know you’re a smart dog. Not always sure about Splitter.”
“He’s smarter then he pretends.”
Laurel’s hand stopped in mid-air. She looked closely at Daisy. “I could have sworn I heard you say he’s smarter then he pretends, but in my mind.”
Daisy’s head came up and then cocked to the side.
“But that’s silly.”
“No it isn’t. I’ve been trying to talk to you people for ages. You’re mother and Joren are too involved with each other to listen to small voices. Helen is a challenge, but we’ll get to her yet. Dromo, whom you know as Splitter, has been trying too, and for far longer then I. I’m Koozie, by the way, but I’ll answer to Daisy.”
Laurel stared at Daisy and wondered what she’d ingested that was causing her to have a psychotic break.
“You aren’t having a psychotic break, I assure you. I’m actually Queen MariV1, last of the true Amazon Peacekeepers. Dromo is Dromo the Magnificent, once a great and terrible ruler, and Loki’s real name is Port, because Dromo never remembered his real name, but Port was Dromo’s amanuensis when Dromo ruled his bit of the universe.”
Laurel stared at Daisy. She could hear the dog talking to her, but only in her mind. Such things could not be, therefore she was having a psychotic episode. Her first. Hopefully her last, but she knew it didn’t work that way. If you had one you could count on other episodes to follow. Although…what the little voice in her head told her was rather interesting. If she was going insane she would have some interesting stories to think about.

(Bree)

“Listen to me, you are not having any psychotic break or episode, nor are you going insane. Dr. Brad hears us as does Gaspar. Ask them what our true names are and see what they tell you.
“But to get back to the important matter at hand, Dromo, Port and I know not to scare off Sammy or her children when they come tomorrow. We want Maggie to look at Sammy’s aura and Joren to heal her. We don’t have an opinion on Dr. Merriweather yet. Once we meet him we’ll let you know what we think. Is that settled for you?”
Laurel just stared at Daisy. The voice had sounded reasonable. But if it was she herself who produced the voice, of course it would seem reasonable.
“Call Dr. Brad and ask him what our true names are.”
Laurel pursed her lips. She could do that and see what the man said. The question didn’t sound too outlandish. She picked up her cell and found his number and called.
“Yes?”
Laurel almost hung up.
“Something wrong at the house?” His voice sounded annoyed.


“This is Laurel, Dr. Brad. This might seem like a strange question to ask you, but do you know Daisy’s true name?”
Silence. Laurel could feel her face heat. He probably thought she was crazy.
“Who wants to know?”
“I do. I want to know her true name.”
“Why’d you call me to ask that?”
No matter what she said he’d think she was crazy. “Just humor me. What is Daisy’s true name?”
“Also ask about Splitter and Loki. Go on, ask.”
“And you might as well tell me Splitter’s and Loki’s true names.”
Ten seconds of silence. “I’ll be right there. Back porch.”
Laurel met Dr. Brad on the porch, Daisy at her heels.
Dr. Brad bent down and faced Daisy, and then stood tall with a grin on his face. “So you can hear them now? Daisy is Koozie to her friends, but is really Queen MariVI, the last true Queen of the Amazon Peacekeepers. Splitter is Dromo the Magnificent, and Loki is Port, although I believe Port is a shortened form of the word, Porto.”

From Gerri: I love to write. I love to read. Typical writer. I love to discover new authors, and will read just about anything, but unless I’m researching, my first choice is fiction. Fiction with a HEA or Happily Ever After. If I want to be depressed after I read a story, I can read the newspaper.
I was born and raised in Maryland, but moved to South Central Pennsylvania in 2006. Lovely countryside. Wonderful people who always wave to you when you pass by. There are times when the main road has no traffic! Wonderful!
Traveling to other countries is a great joy of mine, but it’s been many years since I’ve been overseas. Soon, I hope. I still have all the photos I took.
I’m a dog lover first, and a cat lover second. (***Bundi on the steps above)

Follow Gerri’s Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/Gerri-Bowen/e/B002BLL6ZE/

DISCOVERY AND LOVE IN GETTIS is available in Kindle at:

https://www.amazon.com/Discovery-Love-Gettis-Gerri-Bowen-ebook/dp/B01LX0F60B

 

Thanks for stopping by. Please leave Gerri a comment.

 

 

Furbaby Friday with Kristy McCaffrey


I’m happy to have Kristy McCaffrey here to share a very touching dog story, and her new adventure romance, Deep Blue.

Marley The Rescue

By Kristy McCaffrey

(Kristy and her dog Lily)

I’ve always been a dog person. My heart is forged with memories of my canine companions throughout my life: Rommell, Raquel, Buckwheat, Chaco, Shiva, Sparky. Gone but never forgotten. One thing I had never done, however, was rescue a dog in jeopardy. I’d thought about it, of course. I’m an empathic person, which is probably why I like to write stories, but it was that very trait that always filled me with anxiety just thinking about visiting the pound or a rescue shelter. The suffering of so many is a crushing reality that is difficult to bear some days.

(Ranger)

Last October, my family and I lost our beloved chocolate Labrador, Ranger. Although he’d had health issues for a number of years, his loss was still sudden and devastating. One week after his 13th birthday, we were forced to put him down from a broken leg due to bone cancer. I wasn’t prepared for the grief that hit me. I had lost dogs before; I knew how it went. But Ranger had been different. I had promised him I would take care of him. In the end, though, I couldn’t. Something happens in your soul when you must break a promise—a terrible schism of guilt.

My husband and I had long talked of rescuing older dogs, knowing how difficult it was for these animals to find a loving home, but it’s a bittersweet goal—just when you bond with them you’re likely to lose them. But if I’ve learned anything while raising four children, it’s this: you must do what is best for them, not what’s best for you. I knew this was also true when it came to helping a dog in need.

At the beginning of January, my husband traveled to Finland to help our oldest daughter move to Helsinki for a semester abroad. While I was home on my own, I watched the news one evening, and a very brief story about several dogs needing a home caught my eye. The owner was about to be evicted and the animals would be sent to the pound. The prospects for an older male Labrador mutt weren’t good. The next morning, I called the man trying to help re-home the dogs. He ran a local animal rescue in the Phoenix area, but this wasn’t a normal rescue situation. If I could come immediately to pick up the dog, he would give him to me. I jumped into the car and went, feeling trepidation at driving alone into an unknown neighborhood in downtown Phoenix, but something compelled me.

When I met Marley, I knew he had a strong will to live. The woman who had previously owned him had died ten months prior, and it was her daughter who was desperately trying to find a home for him. Her mother had had such a soft spot for animals that she’d regularly picked up strays off the streets. Marley had been such a stray, born somewhere on the streets of Phoenix, so his age was unknown (the estimate was between 9-12 years old). The daughter had had 24 canines to find homes for, and Marley was one of the last. She’d been doing the best she could to care for him, but Marley was undernourished with overgrown toenails and hadn’t been to the veterinarian in years. I put him in my car and drove him home.

That first week was tough. Marley was sweet and quite affectionate, but it was a new home with a new routine and I had to work diligently with him. I got him to the vet immediately and we addressed the most pressing issues (the toenails, bloodwork, vaccinations, etc.). But he was too weak for a tooth cleaning. He also wasn’t neutered, although at his advanced age I wasn’t certain I would proceed with it anyway. I also sobbed frequently because bringing Marley home had triggered a new wave of despair over losing Ranger. It took me a bit to work through that. I also sent my husband—still in Finland—a long and heartfelt email explaining what I’d done and begging him not to be upset with me. His response was so supportive that I wept over that, too. I married the right guy.

It’s been almost three months now that we’ve had Marley. He’s gained weight and has embraced a life of freedom (he’d been crated for much of last year, and possibly longer). We have a dog door, so he can go into the backyard whenever he wants. He has arthritis, but he’s gained stamina with frequent short walks. He enjoys treats and toys, although he doesn’t have much interest in playing with our other dog, Lily. Still, my husband works with him and tries to get the two of them interacting. Speaking of my husband, Marley has become quite attached to him.

I don’t know how much time we’ll have with Marley, but I’m content knowing that we’re giving him a peaceful and secure life in his twilight years, filled with fresh air, sunshine, plenty of food, snuggles and kisses.

(Marley)

Kristy McCaffrey writes historical western romances brimming with grit and emotion, and in 2018 she will branch out into contemporary adventure stories packed with smoldering romance and spine-tingling suspense. Her work is filled with compelling heroes, determined heroines, and her trademark mysticism. Life is a wondrous endeavor, and she strives to bring that sense of awe and joy into the tales she weaves, along with in-depth research into settings and time periods. Kristy holds a bachelor’s and master’s degree in mechanical engineering, but writing has been her passion since she was very young. Her four children are nearly grown and gone, so she and her husband frequently pursue their love of travel to the far corners of the world. Kristy believes life should be lived with curiosity, compassion, and gratitude, and one should never be far from the enthusiasm of a dog. She also likes sleeping-in, eating Mexican food, and doing yoga at home in her pajamas. An Arizona native, she resides in the desert north of Phoenix. Sign up for Kristy’s newsletter to receive her latest book news as well as subscriber-only content.

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Kristy’s New Release
In the deep blue ocean lives an ancient predator…

When a photo of Dr. Grace Mann freediving with a great white shark goes viral, the institute where she works seeks to capitalize on her new-found fame by producing a documentary about her work. Underwater filmmaker Alec Galloway admires Dr. Mann and jumps at the opportunity to create a film showcasing the pretty biologist. But can he keep her safe when her passionate focus on the sharks repeatedly leads her into danger?

“…a compelling dance between two very likeable characters…” ~ Midwest Book Review

Excerpt from Deep Blue

“We’ve got three sharks in the water,” Tony yelled from above Grace.

Sweet. She did an imaginary fist-pump in her head, and then indulged in a little side-step shuffle, lifting her arms up and giving a boogie-shake of her hips.

“She dances,” Alec said from behind her.

Startled, she gasped and spun around. Alec’s wetsuit molded his body and showed every sleek, muscular contour.

“Just burning off some nerves.” The words tumbled out in a breathless rush.

“It’s good to know you have nerves.”

“I never claimed to be superwoman.”

He grinned. “That’s a relief.”

Copyright © 2018 K. McCaffrey LLC

Learn more and read Chapter One at http://kmccaffrey.com/deep-blue/

Thanks for stopping by. Please leave Kristy a comment.