I’m happy to have my friend, Louisa Cornell, here to share her precious rescue dog and her fabulous Regency Romance novel, Stealing Minerva.
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?
“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.”
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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.
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Louisa’s Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/Louisa-Cornell/e/B00PYZQOA6/
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