BLURB:
Melanie Holmes has her
hands full when 15-year-old Keith and 13-year-old Anne, react badly to
Melanie’s impending divorce from their father. Only four-year-old Jeffrey is
his usual sunny self.
Further complicating
her life is her attraction to Sam Hudson, the detective called to her home when
Ken runs off, and Anne is abducted from a strip club.
Sam is forced to
confront his own demons as he contemplates becoming deeply involved with
Melanie’s family after she is seriously injured in the same car accident that
kills her ex-husband. After she returns home, Melanie’s kids tell her they want
to marry Sam, even though he hasn’t uttered the “M” word.
How will Sam react
when her kids do the proposing for him? Can the long-time bachelor commit
himself to her and her children?
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Guest Post
Guest Post
The
next day, Melanie sat on the couch reading a book after a brief walk in the
park, her first without Sam. She looked up when Keith and Anne brought chairs
close to her and sat down. Jeffrey cuddled next to her.
“We’re
calling a family meeting,” Keith stated.
Anne
nodded in agreement.
Jeffrey
echoed his older brother. “A family meeting.”
“What
about?” Melanie asked.
Anne
whispered, “Tell her, Jeffrey.”
“We
want to marry Sam.” He beamed at her.
“Jeffrey!”
Anne and Keith exclaimed in unison.
“You
said it wrong.” Anne frowned. “He meant we want you to marry Sam.”
Melanie’s
pulse picked up speed and she opened her mouth to say something, but Anne
continued.
“He
loves you and he loves us and we love him, so why don’t you two make it
official so he can stay?” She blushed and began pulling at her braid.
Jeffrey
patted Melanie’s hand to get her attention. “He sleeped here the whole time you
were in the hospital and he made dinner and everything. He tucks me in at
night, just like a dad is s’posed to. He made me feel safe, even when I was
scared when you weren’t here.” He wiped a hand across his plump cheek. “And he
even showed me his gun and told me why he keeps it locked up so we can’t be
hurted.”
“Mom,”
Keith said. “We couldn’t have made it without him. He even talked to Evelyn a
couple more times—after I talked to her. One time, it was late at night and I
could tell he was really mad that she wouldn’t help out.”
Melanie
imagined what Evelyn must have said, and how Sam would have reacted. “I need to
talk to Sam about this, kids.” She felt her cheeks warm, pleased that her
children were no longer a barrier between her and Sam. But he hadn’t asked her.
Did he want what the children wanted?
“He
took us to his new house,” Anne rattled on. “It’s really big. Sam said he was
thinking of making this big old attic space into a room just for us to play in.
Crystal says it would be really cool to have a slumber party there, with all
those windows that look out so high off the street.”
Keith
shuffled in his chair, looking like he wanted to talk, but Anne waved him off.
“It’s
got a really neat kitchen, too, and a big pantry. You’d like it. We want to
live there. All three of us. With Sam.” After a brief pause, she appended, “And
you.”
“But
we already have a house, honey,” Melanie replied, her heart in her throat, her
entire body having come down with a case of the battling butterflies.
“But
this is Dad’s house,” Keith said. “We
were thinking you wouldn’t want to stay here.”
The
squeak of the laundry room door closing announced someone’s presence. Melanie
looked toward the kitchen. Sam was leaning against the counter, his gaze
blanketing her in lov-ing warmth. How long had he been standing there? What had
he heard?
“Hi,
Sam,” Keith said. “We’re having a family meeting.”
“Is
it private, or may I sit in?” His voice had that mellow whisky tone that heated
her to her toes.
“We
told Mommy about your new house,” Jeffrey added.
“Good.”
He cleared his throat. “I’m moving my stuff in next week. Would you guys like
to come over for dinner after I’m set up?” His words were for everyone, but his
gaze never left Melanie’s face.
Jeffrey
clambered off the couch and reached for Sam’s hand as he walked closer. “You
sit here, next to Mommy. I told her what we all voted. It was nannamous. It
means we all agreed, even though I got to say it.”
“Jeff,”
Keith warned. “Let Mom talk.”
Sam’s
gaze slid from one child to the next before settling on Melanie’s face again
and remaining there, a wary kind of hope in his eyes. “What exactly did you
guys vote on?”
“Jeffrey—”
Anne said, raising a finger to her mouth, but it was too late.
“We
want to marry you,” Jeffrey declared, his expression joy-ful. “So you can be my
new daddy.”
Melanie
couldn’t stop staring up at Sam.
When
Jeffrey pulled on his hand once more, Sam lowered himself onto the couch, one
knee grazing hers as he sat down. “Jeff. Will you please bring me my jacket?
It’s on the bench near your cubby in the laundry room.”
“’Kay.”
Jeffrey retrieved the garment and trotted back with it.
“Thank
you, son.” Sam shoved a hand into the jacket pocket. “I guess this is a good a
time as any, since you all voted. And it was unanimous.”
Sam
grasped Melanie’s hand. “You know what I told the doc-tors and, you know why. I
should have asked you first. I’m sorry I didn’t. Lou said I got things
backward.”
He
pulled out a small black velvet box. He opened it, slid off the couch, and went
down on one knee, no longer caring that the children were present.
“Sam,
did you hurt your leg?” Jeffrey asked.
Anne
shushed him, pulled Jeffrey onto her lap and slid a hand over his mouth.
“I’ve
been carrying this around with me since that Fourth of July party.” Sam gave a
wry little chuckle. “And I was going to do this later tonight without an audience”—he
glanced briefly at each of her children—“but they’re part of you, your family,
too. And they voted.” He cleared his throat, and his eyes seemed to glow as he
gazed at her. “And, who am I—” he choked, his voice suddenly husky— “to
challenge a unanimous vote?”
His
eyes had that heated quality that turned her insides into gooey chocolate.
“Will
you marry me, Melanie? I love you and want to live with you and take care of
you and be your husband—”
Jeffrey
clapped his hands. Anne clamped his hands between her own. “Ssh!”
“I
love your kids. I want to help you raise them. Can you see your way clear to
allowing me that privilege?”
Melanie’s
throat was so tight she wasn’t sure she could speak. Instead, she squeezed his
hand and nodded. Then, she swallowed and croaked, “I’d like that a lot.”
Jeffrey
slid off Anne’s lap. Both stood up and gave each other a high-five.
Keith
beamed. “Way to go, Sam.”
Melanie
looked at the ring that sparkled up at her in its black velvet nest. “Will you
put it on my finger, Sam?”
He
nodded and kissed her.
“This
is so romantic,” Anne crooned.
“Yippee!
Yippee!” Jeffrey shrieked as he bounced in circles around the room.
“Let’s
go see your house again,” Melanie murmured when Sam reached over and hugged
her. “Our house. Where we’re all going to live.”
“As
soon as we’re married.” Sam finished her thought.
BIO:
Kate Vale lives
in the beautiful fourth corner of northwestern Washington state. She enjoys the
slower pace of a small city located between Vancouver BC, and Seattle WA. Her
stories reflect the many different careers she has experienced and the crises
that confront real men and women. Helping her characters get to a
happily-ever-after is a continuing goal.
Awards
received:
2014 Great Beginnings* 1st prize for DREAM
CHASER (the first novel I published) – in cozy mysteries for Romantic Fiction
2014 Great Beginnings* 1st prize for HER
DAUGHTER’S FATHER (this comes out on Feb 10, 2014!) – in Romantic Suspense
category
Previously, PACKAGE DEAL won 1st prize in
Romantic Suspense Category for books published in 2012
In addition to the 2013 1st prize for
Contemporary Romance for CHOICES
*All four of these awards were given by Chanticleer Books and
Media. The Great Beginnings contest was for the first up to 1500 words only.
According to the people running the contest, their intent was to identify
titles whose beginnings “captured” the reader, urging them to want to read
more. The other two contests required submission of the entire novel.
ONLINE LINKS:
BUY NOW LINK:
Excerpt:
Ernie
pried open the locked door of the grocery and he and Cal entered. Keith
followed them. Ernie headed straight for the cash register. Cal detoured to the
front of the counter and began stuffing candies in one pocket.
“You
guys should just leave. It’s not right what you’re doing.” He’d have to call
the cops now. Maybe he’d leave a message, an anonymous tip. But when he turned
around, the black detective stood in the doorway, his bulk blocking the light
from the outside motion detector, his gun drawn. “Hold it right there, boys.”
Calvin
jerked at the sound of the detective’s voice, looked over his shoulder at the
tall black man and dashed for the front door, opened it and took off running
across the street. Keith froze, stunned at how quickly the big police officer
reached him. Ernie ran after Calvin, still holding the crowbar, but a white
detective grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him to an abrupt
halt just outside the front door.
“Drop
it, kid,” Sam Hudson ordered. The crowbar Ernie had been holding clattered onto
the sidewalk. He stuttered, “Wasn’t my idea.” He pointed at Keith. “He told me
to do it—he knew no one was here.”
“Hey!
No! That’s not right,” Keith protested, but the black officer snapped handcuffs
around his wrists.
“Wait.
No. I just …” Keith’s pulse raced and he felt like he had to pee. What was his
mom going to say? She’d been so proud of him getting his job, his first-place
science project. Espe-cially after he’d apologized for being so nasty ever
since his dad had left. Would Tamara fire him? What if he went to jail? But he
hadn’t done any-thing. Why had Ernie accused him?
The
black detective placed Keith in the back of the squad car. Ernie crouched on
the other side of the back seat, his cuffed hands behind his back.
Keith
looked over at Ernie, who was sniffling. He was crying? Keith turned away from
the boy, disgusted. “Shut up, Ernie. Stop acting like a baby.”
But he
didn’t shut up. As soon as the detectives climbed in the front seat, Ernie
began babbling about how it was Keith’s idea to break into the grocery, that he
knew what was in there, that Ivy had told him.
“Got
anything to add, Keith?” The black detective asked from the driver’s seat.
“It’s
not true. Ivy didn’t tell me a thing.” No way was he going to put the blame on
her. He slumped next to the door, debating with himself about telling the
detectives about Calvin, that it was all Ernie and Cal’s doing, breaking the
motion detector light and robbing the store. But he didn’t dare rat on the
bigger boy, especially after what he’d said about Anne and Ivy.
The
ride downtown was punctuated by static-interrupted radio pronouncements Keith
couldn’t understand. The black detective escorted him inside while the white
detective kept his hand on Ernie’s arm as they approached the building. The
white detective motioned to two men. Their name tags identified them as
detention officers. They followed Keith and Ernie into a room. “Come on in
here, you two,” a pudgy man with sparse sandy hair said.
“One
of you at this end of the table,” the skinny man with red hair pointed.
Keith
sat down, glad the man removed his cuffs. He rubbed his hands where the cuffs
had bitten into his wrists. Ernie glared at the stout man who sat down across
the table from him and ran one hand over his head.
“Hey,
Archie,” he asked Ernie. “How long has it been since you were here last?”
“You’re
thinking of my cousin. It wasn’t me. Someone who looks like me,” Ernie whined.
The man’s double-chin wiggled when he laughed. “Right, and I’m not Santa Claus
at Christmas-time. Sam, what’s the charge this time?”
Detective
Hudson rubbed his neck before replying. “Breaking and entering, theft, and
malicious mischief. Maybe more, but that’ll do for now.”
“It
wasn’t me! Go talk to Archie—he’s always in trouble.” Ernie’s voice rose into a
whine. “You’ve got no proof. We didn’t do nothin’!” The whites of his eyes gave
his face a skeletal look that made Keith want to puke.
“Since
Archie’s been here before, he probably told you how it works down here, Ernie.
I’m gonna call your folks. Give me their numbers.”
“Only
got one.”
“Which
one—your dad or your mom?”
“My
aunt.” Ernie muttered. “But she don’t care about me.”
“Does
she feed you?”
“Yeah.”
“Then
she cares. What’s her number?”
Ernie
mumbled it and the detention officer helped him out of the chair. “Okay. I’ll
call her. Time to find you a bed.” Keith looked over his shoulder as Ernie was
led out of the room and disappeared down a hall, continuing to complain loudly
that they had the wrong person.
The
other detention officer rapped his knuckles on the table. “Pay attention,
Keith,” he said after checking the brief report the white detective handed
over. “Look at me.”
Keith’s
pulse raced. “Do I have to stay here? I didn’t do anything.”
“You
were brought in with Ernie. That means you did plenty.”
“Yep.
Ol’ Ernie sang like a canary in springtime,” the black detective confirmed.
“Your
first time here?” the detention officer asked.
Keith
nodded. “Don’t I get a phone call?”
“You
watch too much TV. This isn’t a police station. You’re at the county detention
center. I’ll do the calling. Give me your parents’ number.”
Keith’s
stomach clutched. “If I tell you, can I go home?”
The
man’s grin did not extend to his eyes. “That’s not how this works. You’re a
guest of the county until Sunday afternoon, when you get out on bail—assuming
your folks pay. Not before.”
“How
much is it?”
“Depends
on the charge.” The detention officer seemed to be rubbing the creases in his
forehead again, as if he had a headache. Keith couldn’t take his eyes off the
scar that began between the man’s thumb and first finger and ran past his
wrist, disappearing into the cuff of his shirt sleeve.
“Sam,
enlighten me here.”
“Same
as the other kid for now,” the detective replied, his eyes on Keith’s face.
“Okay.
Bail will probably be five hundred.”
Keith
sucked in his breath. His dad didn’t have that kind of money and he wasn’t even
sure his dad would get him out. The last two times they’d talked hadn’t been
pleasant. Then he’d been a no-show for the Science Fair. His dad had warned him
not to get into trouble. He had to be a good example for Jeffrey, he had to
help his mom take care of Anne. And his mom? She was going to f**king freak.
“Can
you call a lawyer instead? I’m a minor. Aren’t I supposed to have a lawyer present
for questioning?”
Lou
snorted.
Keith
had forgotten the detectives were still in the room.
“Don’t
you listen?” The man grimaced in a way that fed Keith’s anxiety. “This is not Law and Order. Give me your parents’
number.” He sat back in the chair, crossed his fat arms over his chest and
waited.
When
Keith showed no sign of talking, he continued. “Okay. Time for the facts of
life. I’m going to call your folks and tell them where you are. Then you’re
going to be fingerprinted.”
“Already
been. And I didn’t do anything,” he replied, flexing his fingers in his lap.
“Doesn’t
matter. After that, you’ll have a shower and we’ll give you some clothes to
wear—not quite as nice as yours, but they’ll do. Then we’ll take you to a cell.
You’ll sleep here tonight, or if you don’t want to sleep, you can think about
what you’ve done—”
“I
told them to stop. They wouldn’t listen. Ernie’s wrong. He’s the one who did
it, along with—” He caught his breath, afraid to say anymore, remembering
Calvin’s threats.
“Along
with who?” The detectives seemed to perk up where they lounged against the wall
on a bench near the door.
Keith
said nothing.
The
other man repeated, “Give me your folks’ phone number.”
“You
can call my mom.” He took a deep breath. “Will you tell her I’m not bleeding or
dead or anything so she doesn’t go crazy?”
“I’ll
tell her you’re fine. She can see you on Sunday—before she posts bail.”
“Not
till then? What if she doesn’t have the money?”
“Then
you’ll stay here longer—until you go to court.”
Keith
groaned under his breath. Why had he gone out the back way instead of the
front? Why had he decided to see what those guys were doing instead of going
home? If only he’d minded his own business.
The
man reached for the phone on a nearby table and dialed the number. “Mrs.
Holmes? This is Garth Laudenbach. I’m at the County Detention Center. Your son,
Keith, was brought in this even-ing. No, he’s not hurt, but the police—” Keith
could hear sounds but not the words she must be saying—“yes, the charge is
breaking and entering and theft.”
His
mother must have interrupted him with questions, because the man glanced over
at Keith before continuing.
“You
can see him on Sunday during visiting hours. One to three.” He stopped talking
again. “No, you can’t talk to him. Let me explain. His bail will probably be
set at five hundred dollars. You can get him out by paying ten percent of that
amount when you see him on Sunday. Then he’ll have to come back for his court
appear-ance—” He looked like he’d heard whatever she was saying many times
before. “No, he’s not hurt. He’s fine. He’ll be in a cell by himself. Thank
you, Mrs. Holmes.”
“She
freaked, didn’t she? I’ll bet she’s really mad.” Keith felt like he was going
to hurl.
“You
didn’t exactly make her day. Come on. Let’s get things started.”
Keith
rose and was escorted to a room where a man finger-printed him. Then he was
walked down a long hall.
Keith
felt numb with fatigue and the shock of all that had happened in the past hour.
He wasn’t surprised when they took his cell phone, emptied his pockets into a
plastic bag and placed it and the rest of his clothes into another bag. The
officer, sounding bored, told him it would be placed in a locker, that he would
get his possessions back after bail was paid. The clothes he wore after the
shower didn’t fit very well, but what made him shiver more than the cold water
of the shower was the way the officer had watched him after he’d stripped. He
clutched at the waistband of his pants, a bit too short
but much too big in the waist. If he didn’t hang on to them, he was sure they
would fall past his knees. The bed didn’t look all that comfortable and, when
he lay down, all he could think about was what his mother would say to him when
she saw him on Sunday.
He
knew he’d never fall asleep in this place with the concrete block walls and the
weird sounds that came from other cells along the hall. He didn’t know where
Ernie was. Cal had run away before the cops could grab him. He was free even
though he’d been the one who’d really done everything. It wasn’t fair.
Keith
pulled the roughened woolen blanket around his shoul-ders. His mom had said she
would take him downtown to get his learner’s permit next week. For sure that
was never going to happen. His life was over. He rolled onto his side and faced
the wall, ignoring the tears that puddled under his chin.
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