by Leigh Morgan
William shoved his face closer to his cereal bowl. “My condo’s almost done.” He muttered.
“You have to leave William. This isn’t doing either one of us any good. I don’t mind if you stay here awhile, just make sure you’re out of here before school starts. I want a fresh start.” Rhia finished her coffee wondering why they hadn’t shared breakfast together while they were actually married.
William looked into his cereal bowl as if he weren’t certain what he was supposed to do with its contents. He’d stopped eating when Rhia said she wanted him out of her house. She studied her ex with the eyes of a woman no longer tainted by hurt and expectation.
With his athlete’s body and silver streaked dark hair William was still a fine looking man; better looking at forty than he had been at twenty-two when she married him. Being one of Milwaukee’s most successful litigators hadn’t hurt his appeal either. Rhia didn’t know how many women he’d fallen into bed with over the years, and she no longer cared. She had a second chance at life and she was going to take it, without looking back. Looking at William no longer filled Rhia with regret for what might have been, she was too busy looking forward to her independence.
“I’m comfortable here. I like it. I like you too.” William sounded like a little boy who had just been told he couldn’t keep an old toy he hadn’t played with in years.
“If you wanted to keep the house, you should have bought me out.”
“It’s not the house.” William’s pleading brown eyes held hers, Rhia remained unmoved.
Rhia got up and put her coffee cup in the dishwasher. Her bags were packed. She’d kissed Ethan and Hunter good-bye before they went on their annual pilgrimage to their grandparents’ ranch just west of Yellowstone. They both had summer jobs lined up when they got back. They wouldn’t even know she was gone.
“You can’t have a family and be single at the same time William. It doesn’t work that way. You made your choice a long time ago. I made the choice to move on. Let’s stick with that.” Rhia kissed the top of his head and grabbed the keys to her minivan.
“I’m willing to sell you the house if you still want it. If not, I expect to pick up the kids at your condo at the end of the summer.”
Rhia left feeling lighter than she had in months.
Sometimes being a history professor on sabbatical really rocked.
and just in case you missed it:
SPARRING PARTNERS
BOOK 1 OF THE DOJO CHRONICLES
by Leigh Morgan
Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere. They are in each other all along.
Rumi ~13th Century
CHAPTER ONE
“You need a husband.”
Those four words, if ever appropriate, belonged in a different century: one where traitors were still drawn and quartered. They didn’t belong echoing off the marble floors of a twenty-first century courthouse where doing the right thing should be synonymous with helping those who have no legal voice of their own, namely children.
Unfortunately for child advocate and all around idealist, Reed Mohr, those four words, a mere five syllables, meant the difference between getting fourteen-year-old Jesse Bane out of his tenth foster home in four weeks, or consigning him to hell until the system spat him out at eighteen.
Unacceptable every way Reed looked at it. If the most expedient way to adopt Jesse was to get married first, so be it. She could remedy that after Jesse was safe.
Losing her single status was one thing. Losing her livelihood in the process was quite another. Reed Mohr hadn’t considered that the judges she ultimately answered to, would strip her of the one thing she poured her heart and soul into doing well, representing the least powerful among us, the young and the elderly. But she should have, Reed thought, mentally kicking herself.
Reed knew the drill in Judge Meen’s juvenile court. Single parents didn’t adopt. Child advocates don’t take their clients home.
Children aren’t puppies, Reed.
Three words this time, bouncing in her hyper-charged brain.
Really, Reed thought? Fourteen-year-old boys who witness their heroin addict fathers inject their mothers with enough dope to kill an elephant aren’t puppies? Who knew? Apparently not Reed who, if she wanted to keep her job, would do as instructed, which amounted to shutting up and letting this one go. Only she couldn’t do that. This one wasn’t a cause or a whim or another of the rag-tag animal misfits she dragged home. This one happened to have a name: Jesse. And she wasn’t about to let him get swallowed by the system and flushed away like waste.
“You know you cannot adopt in this county without being married.” Judge Meen said from his perch behind the formidable oak bench in juvenile court, looking down at Reed over reading glasses he didn’t actually need.
“The juvenile code does not prohibit a single person from adopting, your honor.”
“How long have you practiced law in Radkin County, Reed?”
“You know the answer to that, judge.”
“Remind me.” Judge Meen said.
“Twelve years.”
“Are you willing to piss all that away for a kid you don’t know? A kid with two junkies for parents? A kid who at fourteen is already damaged goods?” Judge Meen’s voice continued to escalate bouncing off the marble floors and oak walls as it gained momentum and smacked into Reed with the tangible force of a slap to the face.
“Jesse Bane isn’t a puppy, Reed. You can’t just take him home and train him to love you. He’ll just piss all over your house”.
Reed couldn’t control the shiver that ran down her spine at the judge’s words. She was afraid that she might be making a huge mistake. What was it about Jesse that made her think she could be a mother to a damaged fourteen year old boy?
Sweat began to run under her arms, behind her knees and at the small of her back, causing another involuntary shiver. Her heart beat painfully as it slammed against her ribs.
Was she really ready to lose her job?
Could she stomach being married to anyone long enough to adopt Jesse?
Could she afford to start her life over again at thirty-six?
Could she turn and walk away from Judge Meen and everything that was wrong with the juvenile justice system and pretend she couldn’t have made it better for at least one child, if she’d only found her backbone behind the twisted snake-like mass her insides had become?
No. Not today. Not tomorrow. Never again.
Reed pushed all five foot three and one quarter inches of her frame upward, standing as tall as she could, and forced herself to take a deep, calming breath, until time slowed to its natural pace again.
This was her moment. With a clarity Reed Mohr didn’t question, she knew what she did next would define the rest of her life. She took another breath and stepped forward realizing that she was too damn old to pretend she couldn’t make a difference if she chose to.
She took another step closer to the bench and then another, thanking the spirits above that she had the foresight to put on the one pair of heels she owned instead of her usual flats. The extra two inches helped feed her inner giant.
“You’re right, judge. Jesse Bane is not a puppy.” Reed’s chin shot up and she forced her voice not to quaver as she looked up at the judge without blinking. “I’ll have a husband tomorrow. You’ll have my petition for adoption on your desk as soon as an adoption study can be completed. Since Jesse has no family, and I know you hate burdening the foster care system, I’ll expect you to sign the order.” Knowing she was dangerously close to contempt of court Reed added, “Your honor.”
“I’ll sign it, Ms. Mohr. But the second I do you’ll never work as a child advocate in this county again. You won’t be sending the kid back either. I’ll throw your tail in jail if you try.”
Reed gave a quick nod and swallowed past the dry knot at the back of her throat. “I understand. No refunds. No returns. No job. Thanks for clearing that up for me, your honor.” Reed smiled. It was a small smile
at first, but as it gained distance, the clenching in her stomach began to ease and swallowing became easier. Her heartbeat returned to normal and the clammy feeling she’d felt earlier disappeared.
“Get out of here, Mohr, before I have you incarcerated for pissing me off, and good luck. You’re going to need it”.
It wasn’t contempt that had Reed humming her way out of the courtroom, it was a feeling of lightness that came with knowing she’d made the right call, the only call, she could have made. Now all she had to do was propose to the only single adult male she could stomach living with for more than a week and hope he didn’t laugh in her face.
Charlie wouldn’t laugh at her, he never laughed at any of the crazy notions she got in her head. Charlie wasn’t a laugher, Charlie was an instigator. Charlie would understand her need to give Jesse a real home where he was loved. Jesse would be well loved at Potters Woods. Reed would just have to learn about parenting as she went. Charlie would help her as he had from the moment she’d walked into his class as an undergraduate student with fear in her eyes and trepidation in her heart.
Reed graduated with a degree in history at the top of her undergraduate class with the support of Charlie and her aunt, Finn. Charlie pushed her to stop talking about injustice and start doing something to change it when she could; like today. Charlie was the reason Reed went to law school. Charlie and Finn were the only family Reed acknowledged since the death of her mother, at least until now. Now, she would have Jesse too. All doubts that Reed had walking into the courtroom fled. She’d done the right thing. Now, all she needed was a husband.
Charlie was her man. Ardent Democrat, Jimmy Buffett fan, sixty-two year old college professor. And, he had one other thing going for him that no other man Reed respected and cared for had. Charles Renee MacIntyre the third was Flaming-rainbow-flag-flying-gay.
Reed wouldn’t want even a short term husband any other way.
About the author:
A native mid-westerner from South Eastern Wisconsin, Morganne MacDonald (writing as Leigh Morgan) a member of RWA and WisRWA since 2005, has been writing since pre-school (with crayons) and is still in training (although she now uses a netbook).
Morganne is currently working on a series of stand alone contemporary novels, The Dojo Chronicles, with a tie to the martial arts. Adventure, romance, and themes such as ‘what constitutes a family’, and ‘living by a personal code’ all wrapped up in a tail-kicking package that will make you laugh, cry, and feel good about the world and your place in it.
A graduate of The University of Wisconsin - Milwaukee, her studies included: History, Philosophy, and Comparative Mythology. Morganne graduated from Marquette University Law School in 1991.
Morganne has practiced nearly all areas of law, and now focuses on Child Advocacy and Elder Law with a primary focus on family mediation, putting children’s needs first.
Morganne is a fourth degree black belt in Okinawan Shorin Ryu karate. She has continuously trained over a twenty year period, actively training with Master Daniel Schroeder in Hales Corners, Wisconsin. She also holds a fourth degree black belt in Matayoshi Okinawan Kobudo; weapons training. Morganne has taught self-defense for women and practical defense sequences for writers.
Morganne is an avid motorcycle enthusiast. (There’s nothing like a TRIUMPH!) Most summers (when she’s not out riding) you can most likely find her in Highland Gear walking her Scottish Deerhounds and promoting Macski’s Highland Foods at local Scottish Games and Festivals.
You may visit Leigh at: www.leighmorganauthor.com
For speaking engagements and martial arts seminars, please email Leigh at: [email protected]
For the best tasting Scottish foods and custom Highland Gear this side of the big pond please visit: www.macskis.com
here are short blurbs and excerpts from two of my friends’ latest novels:
STARDUST MIRACLE
by Edie Ramer
A miracle is going to happen
Becky Diedrich is the cheesemaker’s daughter.
The minister’s wife.
The good sister.
What she’s not is her own woman.
What she can’t be is a mother.
And then she catches her husband with another woman.
And she moves in with her sister.
And she starts to see sparkles.
And this is just the beginning...
Excerpt:
Becky ran across the grass and laughed at her brashness. She wore her tan trench coat – her church coat – over her red negligee. Tonight she felt free. With a sexual appetite and playfulness she hadn’t felt for a long time.
She couldn’t swear that what she planned had never happened in the church, people being what they were. But it had never happened in the church before with her and Jim.
Laughter spilled out of her mouth again, and only stopped because she was breathless from an overload of excitement. The need to experience something more with her husband had been building inside her for a long time. Now it was finally boiling over – leaving her lightheaded and unlike her usual self.
She liked these feelings. Liked this side of her a lot.
Something happened to her tonight when she’d stepped out of the car and looked up at the stars. For so long, she’d been carrying a dark weight around with her. Going through the days and nights trying to say and do all the right things, when inside something had felt all wrong.
She’d lost the joy of life. Not fully living...just going through the motions. At only thirty-six, she’d felt old and dried up.
Now she felt young again. Free.
Jim wouldn’t know what happened to his proper wife.
She reached the church’s back door, using it instead of the front doors because she didn’t want anyone passing by to see her. Not that there was anything wrong with going to see Jim. But if anyone mentioned her late night visit, her face would probably turn the color of a ripe tomato and give away what they’d done.
She slipped the key into the lock but it turned easily. She stepped inside. Jim must’ve come in this way and forgotten to lock the door behind him. He was always preoccupied with his work and his parishioners.
She admired that. She did. But once in a while, she wanted his mind, plus a few body parts, to be on her.
And not just when her body temperature was right.
She started toward Jim’s office, and her heels clicked on the linoleum floor. Laughing under her breath, she stopped and took them off. She wanted to surprise Jim with a good surprise. No. A wonderful surprise.
His door was closed. Habit, she supposed, since no one was here except him. She heard him speaking. Couldn’t make out the words. Just his voice. Probably saying lines from the sermon he was preparing. Then his voice stopped, and she imagined him frowning at his computer screen while he wrote the next line.
She started to undo the buttons of her coat, then decided it would be sexier to do it inside with him watching. Kind of like a stripper.
Stifling a giggle, she turned the handle and threw open the door.
“Surprise!”
You may visit Edie at: www.edieramer.com
BLACK DIAMOND JINN
(A Hot SF/Fantasy Novella)
Copyright © 2012 by Mary Hughes
Have sex, avert doom, save the world.
The Mayan Doom is real. Government witch Amaia Jones has the spreadsheet to prove it.
Amaia is a desk-bound research wizard, living uncomfortably in the shadow of her famous Venus-magic parents, when she discovers the world is ending. Tonight. But her bulldog of a boss not only refuses to believe her, he won’t give her the secret to calling the one force powerful enough to help—the jinn. Amaia turns to her mental guardian angel, Rafe, the darkly handsome presence who has comforted her since her parents died.
Rafe has a secret of his own. He’s a black diamond jinn, one of the deadliest and most powerful of his kind. He’s detected a ruthless enemy using blood sacrifice and
stoking Y12 public panic in order to summon the nightmare gods. Rafe needs to get into the human realm to stop the Doom. But when Amaia finally calls him, she’s threatened by his scorching sensuality.
Amaia’s guardian angel is a stunning jinni and suddenly her job is way more complicated. Jinn are known for taking their pound of flesh in exchange for magical help, but the only flesh Rafe wants is hers, taut with delight. Venus magic is the very thing that drove a wedge between Amaia’s parents, but her alternatives are rapidly dwindling. With four hours to go on humanity’s darkest night, the only alternative to surrendering her flesh may be surrendering her life.
This title contains explicit sexual language and may not be suitable for all readers.
Excerpt:
December 21, 2012
7:45 p.m. Eastern Standard Time
“The Mayan Doom is real, Chief. I have proof!” I shoved the stack of papers under my boss’s nose, spreadsheet on top. Not because I’m a dick (just the opposite, in fact—unless you counted Mervyn’s opinion that my lady parts clanked when I walked) but because I was trying to save the world and Chief Wizard Arnie Wenkermann was as nearsighted as a myopic bull dog and twice as stubborn.
“Damn it, Jones!” The Chief jerked back. “Your job is to reassure the public, not fan the nonsense higher.”