Here’s a peek at the characters from The Good Life (coming soon!)…


So, sometimes as a writer you see models or actors who remind you of the characters you have in your head. Here are some who remind me of the characters from the Dom & Kate romances. I hope their agents don’t sue me, that would be sad for them as I’m very poor. ;p

dom4 Dominic Valentini, football coach and PE instructor, former professional football player, loves socializing, sports of all varieties, doing anything with an element of danger, and everything about Kate Anderson. Mama’s boy with a bit of a temper.

~

 kate Katelyn Anderson, archaeologist, works part-time for the Midwest Archaeological Center, and part-time for the Nebraska State Museum. Homebody, loves reading, museums, science specials on TV, and running. The family pacifist and people pleaser, she avoids confrontation “the way everyone else avoids paying taxes”.

~

demi Demetria Valentini, outspoken vegetarian who makes occasional exceptions for cheese and eggs, pagan gift shop owner, created her own body-care line, prides herself on being a professional free-spirit. Loves Star Wars, hiking, and provoking reactions from people just for fun.

~

kyleKyle Anderson, police detective, moderately conservative Catholic, loves bacon, dark beer, hockey, and no drama. Especially no drama. One of five siblings from a family that’s “made an Olympic sport out of having children” as his partner Tommy says. More outgoing than his twin sister, Kate Anderson, but leagues less adventurous than his best friend Dom Valentini.

 

Read how Dom & Kate got together in these FREE short romances:

The Bird Day Battalion (Dom & Kate #1):   thCA82U60G thCACNXHNIthCA2WYIQ9 thCAHYUWN0 thCALCVTPI

The V-Day Aversion (Dom & Kate #2):   thCA82U60G thCACNXHNIthCA2WYIQ9 thCAHYUWN0 thCALCVTPI

 

Then check out this excerpt from The Good Life and enter to win a copy at Goodreads!

Enter to win a paperback copy:

goodlifegoodreads

Preorder a digital copy at:

thCACNXHNIthCA2WYIQ9 thCAHYUWN0thCALCVTPI

Purchase a paperback copy early at:

CreateSpaceLogo   thCA82U60G  thCA2WYIQ9

 

 

Want a peek at The Good Life (coming June 30)? Listen to a scene!


So, you know I am not a professional audiobook person, hats off to those amazing people, but here is me reading part of a scene from the upcoming novel The Good Life.

If you haven’t read my FREE short romances The Bird Day Battalion and The V-Day Aversion, you can grab a copy at all major eBook retailers!

Have you entered to win a paperback copy yet?:

goodlifegoodreads

 

Can’t wait for The Good Life to get here? Listen to the Playlist while you wait!


These are the songs I either referenced in the Dom & Kate shorts or The Good Life, or just songs that I listened to while writing the novel. It’s sort of the soundtrack, if you will, for the novel.

Enjoy!!!

The Good Life Playlist:

 

Have you entered to win a paperback copy yet?:

goodlifegoodreads

 

Silly me! I forgot to tell you V-Day is perma-FREE just in time for The Good Life!


valentinescover

FREE now at these eBookstores!

thCA82U60G thCACNXHNIthCA2WYIQ9 thCAHYUWN0 thCALCVTPI

 
 
Dominic Valentini is a man with a plan. Katelyn Anderson is a woman with her own plan: avoid whatever Dominic’s got planned.
 
It’s two days from Valentine’s Day, and Katelyn’s sister Kandace wants Kate to help her catch her estranged husband cheating. Katelyn’s just fine with this as it gives her another excuse to avoid Dominic, whose only crime is being Practically Perfect in every way possible. Dominic just wants Katelyn to stand still long enough to give her a Valentine’s Day to remember. The only problem is, Katelyn hates Valentine’s Day.
 
Join Dom & Kate, from The Bird Day Battalion, (also FREE!) as they try to navigate the “And then what?” of a Happy Ever After.

~~~~~~

thCA82U60G thCACNXHNIthCA2WYIQ9 thCAHYUWN0 thCALCVTPI

~~~~~~~~

Please consider rating it on Goodreads:

goodreads-badge-add-plus-8aed1006260a5092a7ebb2a64fe3968c

~~~~~~~~

Haven’t read Bird Day Battalion?

No worries, grab a FREE copy at all major eBook retailers!

  thCA82U60G thCACNXHNIthCA2WYIQ9 thCAHYUWN0 thCALCVTPI

And just so you know, both the eBook and paperback version of The Good Life  WILL contain both these shorts as well as the new full length novel. Is anyone excited yet for Kyle and Demi’s love story? I hope you will love them as much as you love Dom & Kate!

Missing Tommy&Ginny from The Downey Trilogy? Here’s a peek at Dom&Kate’s wedding in #TheGoodLife


I’ve put up teasers from THE GOOD LIFE on this website before.

Here’s another one I shared the other day on Facebook featuring Ginny and Tommy from The Downey Trilogy:

THE GOOD LIFE

~~~(Copyright 2014 Genevieve Dewey, subject to editing, all rights reserved, etc):~~~

 

“Man, I love weddings,” Ginny Sommers declared breathlessly as she joined them, all but dragging Tommy behind her. “And this is our third in the last six weeks.”

“Third?” Tommy frowned.

“Your parents, then Kiki and James—”

“My dad’s doesn’t count as a wedding so much as a media circus fused with an inter-agency cluster-fuck.”

Ginny shrugged and grinned at both Kyle and Demi, “Anyway. Never gets old, weddings. The awkward social interplay between now connected strangers, the equally awkward ritual of…” she broke off and cocked her head. “Why don’t you two get up and dance?”

“Might be awkward with the plate full of cake between us,” Kyle joked.

Demi choked a bit on the bite in her mouth.

Tommy chuckled. “Talked to the DJ and the groom, and they’re going to do the official ‘aw, wook at da happy couple’ dance they forgot to do, so that means you guys are gonna have to shortly thereafter.”

“Aw, thanks for that,” Kyle responded with an insincere grin.

“Hey, no problem, partner,” Tommy replied with an equal amount of sarcasm. “But it ain’t about you. Rain man here can’t stand it when the rituals aren’t obeyed.”

“Uh!” Ginny smacked him. “I am not that bad.”

“You and Kyle’s sister—Kate—would get along great,” Demi laughed.

“As it happens, I’ve just finished chatting with the bride. We gave each other the standard anthropologist hand shake.”

Tommy laughed, “Which, near as I can tell, is an alcoholic beverage and mentioning Binford, or Boas, or Goodall…”

“…And other people no one’s heard of,” Kyle concurred.

“Everyone knows who Jane Goodall is,” Demi scoffed. “Anyone who actually cares about the environment and not slaughtering animals does anyway. I wouldn’t expect Mr. I Heart Bacon here to understand.”

Tommy snickered.

“I’ve mentioned Demi’s a bunny-hugging twig-eater, haven’t I?” Kyle teased.

Ginny seemed amused by the exchange, but she didn’t respond beyond a quick clink of her glass with Demi’s. Kyle flashed a grin at Demi who opened her mouth, flushed, then quickly turned back to Ginny.

“It’s nice you could get time off to come be Tommy’s date, Agent Sommers,” Demi said, dusting off that ethereal tone.

As usual it gave Kyle the twin desire to shake her and kiss her. He dropped his hand to slide it between her legs. She stopped it with her own and dug her fingernails into his skin. Interestingly, she didn’t move his hand.

“Call me Ginny,” Sommers protested. “And it’s pretty easy actually; I always schedule visits with work, so technically I’m here to consult on a case. What I do on my off time is my business.” She adjusted the special harness she wore to conceal her sidearm with her dress.

“It helps there’s an actual FBI budget line for ‘spying on Tommy Gates’,” Tommy snickered. He dodged the smack she sent his way.

Ginny hesitated and tilted her head shoulder to shoulder with an endearing sort of grimace, “Actually, that’s sort of the truth.”

They looked at each other and laughed. The love in their gazes was easily apparent and almost made Kyle feel like he was intruding witnessing it. He shot a side glance towards Demi. She was watching them with a wistful hint of a smile.

“We prefer to think of it as monitoring known contacts of fugitives on our Most Wanted list,” Ginny continued.

“Details,” Tommy acknowledged with an eyebrow wiggle.

“Only, I am not paid to watch him—”

“She just does it for free,” Tommy interrupted with a snicker.

“On account of the obvious,” she finished with a laugh, grabbing his hand and interlacing their fingers.

“It must be difficult to live so far from each other…” Demi said absently. She was staring at her plate, moving bits of cake crumbs into formations, looking pensive.

“Mmn, we make it work,” Tommy said with a shrug. “It’s not preferable, but she’s worth breaking my strict no-long-distant-relationships rule. And she’s Aunt Claire approved.”

Kyle chuckled. Claire Anderson-Underwood was a sweet and steady woman who didn’t speak much, but she could ferret out a bad match the way a fox could sniff out a hare, and was never shy about sharing her opinion if she felt someone wasn’t worthy of one of her loved ones.

“It’s great Aunt Claire and Uncle Jack could drive over from Chicago,” Kyle acknowledged. “It means the world to Katie.”

“Oh, she gave Ginny the thumbs up way back when I started working on the Bonanno case with Uncle Jack,” Tommy said.

“You know what I learned from meeting Tommy on that case and getting to know his family?” Ginny said ponderously. Her gaze suddenly locked on Demi’s. “I learned that, truly, some lives are meant to connect. They intersect, ebb away, then reconnect again, defying all logic, or practicality. The joy is in accepting it, and in doing so, we figure out why. And then the practicalities just have a way of working themselves out.”

“Yes, she does always speak in riddles like that,” Tommy joked with heavy sarcasm.

–Copyright 2014, Genevieve Dewey.

goodreads-badge-add-plus-8aed1006260a5092a7ebb2a64fe3968c

3 books for 3 bucks? Say what? YES! The Downey Trilogy is on sale Apr 6-12


DowneyTrilogybanner

ALL the drama, intrigue and romance you could need for ONLY $3!

For the week of April 6th- April 12th, all three books in The Downey Trilogy have been reduced to $.99 each!

This is a great time to share your love of the Downeys with your friends! Or maybe you’ve been meaning to pick up the last book and just haven’t gotten around to it! Maybe you just thought you’d like to sink your teeth into a new series, and happen to love mafia families, cops, Federal Agents, character based dramas, stories about love, betrayal, and redemption. Maybe it’s a Tuesday.

In any case, I hope you’ll spread the word.

FILYversion413

First, I Love You (Downey #1)

“Love knows no time, or distance, and it certainly knows no reason.”

  thCA82U60G thCACNXHNIthCA2WYIQ9 thCAHYUWN0 thCALCVTPI

~~~~~~~~

SoACoverVersion513

Second of All (Downey #2)

“Oh, the sweet, painful pleasure of anticipation!”

  thCA82U60G thCACNXHNIthCA2WYIQ9 thCAHYUWN0 thCALCVTPI

~~~~~~~~~

ThirdTime

Third Time’s The Charm (Downey #3)

“What makes a family is love and loyalty.”

thCA82U60G thCACNXHNIthCA2WYIQ9 thCAHYUWN0 thCALCVTPI

Oh, you like being teased? So does Demi. Here’s a megatease from #TheGoodLife


I’ve put up a few excerpts from THE GOOD LIFE on this website and shared a few on Facebook, but I thought I’d make it easier on you to find them all at once. Are you excited for the novel? I hope so! I just love those wacky Andersons and Valentinis and their “absurd codependency with each other” as Demi Valentini puts it…

~~~(Copyright 2014 Genevieve Dewey, subject to editing, all rights reserved, etc):~~~

TEASER ONE:

Kandace hadn’t gone but a quarter mile past the gas station before she screeched to a halt. She put her arm out in front of Kate as the seatbelt locked in place. Kate looked down at the redundant restraint.

“Sorry. Mom reflex,” Kandace said sheepishly as she took her arm back.

“What the what?” was all Kate could say as Kandace actually backed the car up half on the side of the road, and half in her lane.

“What are you doing?” she squeaked in horror. She waved awkwardly at the furious drivers screeching around them, honking their horns and waving obscene gestures.

“Look over there!” Kandace pointed to the other side of the street.

“I see… a gas station?”

“No,” she pointed emphatically, “over,” she gritted with another furious jab in the air, “there!

Katelyn’s eyes scanned the parking lot south of the gas station and finally caught the sight of a long legged, stylish looking woman with luxurious honey-colored hair laughing with a dark-haired, middle-aged man next to a silver and black Bugatti Veyron. The woman turned her head enough for Katelyn to get a full view and finally recognize her.

“Huh. Speak of the devil,” Katelyn whispered. She wondered if the high-end sports car was Isabel’s or belonged to the Italian guy she was flirting with.

“What are the odds?” Kandace whispered back.

“Fairly high,” Kate managed to reply drolly. “We’ve established she’s here for a long visit and Omaha and Lincoln are practically attached at the hip these days. It’s not like we ran across her in York or some place.”

“Actually, York would make more sense. I read an article once in one of Steve’s law journals that said it’s a huge crossroads for truckers and drug traffickers,” Kandace argued, nodding her head up and down, eyes bulging.

Kate’s mouth worked a few dumb-struck times, then she shook her head to clear it.

“Holy spurious conclusion, Batman! How did we correlate Isabel with truckers and drug runners?”

“Katelyn,” Kandace sneered, turning Kate’s head back towards the window, “that is a million dollar car. At the frickin’ Kum and Go. Do I have to spell this out to you?”

Kate moved her eyes left and right, then slowly pried Kandy’s fingers from her jaw.

“I guess you do. First of all, it’s a Phillips 66; there aren’t any Kum and Gos in Lincoln anymore.”

“Oh my God, who freakin’ cares what it’s—”

“And so what, she knows a rich guy,” Katelyn continued with shrug. “Or maybe it’s her who’s rich. Don’t you have to be at least a little bit flush in the pockets to get married at the Heinz chapel? That’s where she and Dom got married, remember?”

“It’s not hers,” Kandace nudged her head towards the window again.

Kate watched the man get in the car on the driver’s side and Isabel on the passenger’s. The man pulled out of the parking lot and headed south on 84th.

“Her third full day in Nebraska and she’s meeting a Mafia kingpin,” Kandace clucked, shaking her head in derision as she pulled out after it.

Katelyn’s laughs filled Kandace’s mom-mobile. She laughed so hard that tears escaped and she actually had to gasp for breath.

“Kandy, that’s so stupid I don’t even know where to begin! First, there are no Mafia kingpins in Nebraska, and second, speaking as someone who is about to marry a man of Italian-American descent, it is extremely offensive that you assume he’s some sort of mobster just because he’s Italian.”

“Excuse me, I did no such thing! I assume he’s a criminal because he has a car that costs more than my wealthy husband’s house—”

“By a few thousand dollars…”

“A few hundred thousand dollars. At a gas station people only go to for Pick 5 tickets and drugs—”

“And gasoline and food.”

“And he’s hanging out with a woman half his age from where all the mobsters live in Pennsylvania.”

“She’s from Pittsburg, not Philly.”

“Same difference!”

“Yes, that’s why they put them right next to each other and named them the same thing,” Kate retorted sarcastically. “Besides, if he was a wealthy drug lord he wouldn’t actually be doing some drug deal at a gas station, you know that, right?”

“Why are you being so difficult?”

“Why are you being so insane?”

Kandace didn’t answer, instead she just kept following the Bugatti when it turned west on Havelock.

“I thought you had to pick up the kids?”

Kandy tapped an icon on the screen on the dash of her car. “Carm? Can you tell Steve I’ll be running late and he’ll have to take the boys to peewee football?”

“Sure thing, Mrs. Cheney.”

Katelyn smacked her forehead for what felt like the twentieth time this afternoon. “You are seriously going to make your lawyer husband take time off to pick up your kids when you’re a stay-at-home mom?”

“I am a business owner now. We share duties.”

“Translation: Steve is back to overindulging your whims and fancies. And you are not currently giving me whiplash and breaking traffic laws for business purposes,” Kate said, white-knuckling the Jesus-handle over her door.

“Carmela would have said something if he had a conflict. And Steve likes pampering me. You should consider letting your man do the same every once in a while or you’ll end up as puckered as Kel.”

“Uuuugh! How is it possible you can be so talented at baking and finances, yet be such a flighty idjit all at the same time? I’m telling you, Kellie was right, and I was worrying for nothing.”

“And I’m telling you she has a hidden agenda!”

“Please stop following them. Please.”

“Nope.”

“If you get us arrested or killed I will seriously hurt you.”

“Exactly how could you hurt me if you’re—”

Katelyn’s phone belted “Ring of Fire” and she gave her sister the ‘talk to the hand’ gesture.

“Hey Dom,” she answered, still gripping the ceiling handle and closing her eyes so she wouldn’t have to watch the traffic.

“Whatsa happenin’ hotstuff,” Dom answered, Sixteen Candles style.

“My sister’s trying to kill me. What’s up with you?” she answered shakily.

Dom’s deep chuckles tickled her ear, “Speaking of Andersons with a death wish, your brother said we could come over to watch the game at his house. That’s three date nights in a row, in case you’re counting. Don’t say I don’t know how to treat my laaaday,” he drawled in a comical deep voice.

Kate laughed at his smug, goofy tone. “Which game?”

“Do you care?”

“No,” she admitted with a little shrug. “It’s not a Monday so it has to be baseball you’re watching and I’m sorry, but baseball is reaaally super boring. You know I only watch it with you for the foot rub you give me.”

“And I only give you the foot rub for the gratitude you display later.”

Kate giggled a little, “Alright. Who all’s coming?”

“Mmn, his partner for starters.”

“Wuuuut? No,” she whined.

Tommy Gates was always so broody and quiet. And if she was going to be forced to watch a sport in which there were no periodic bouts of violence, unlike hockey or football, well, she needed someone to chat with. But getting conversation out of Tommy was like squeezing blood from a turnip. She far preferred the daring, brash extrovert type like Dom. Well, obviously.

“And who else?” she asked, thinking it was odd that Kyle would invite Tommy when he was inviting Dom. The two never hung out together.

“Well, Kyle said Izzy was going to stop by.”

“Isabel?”

“Yeah, so I said, hey, why don’t you invite Tommy? To even things out,” Dom replied in a rush.

“How is that even? Three guys and two women who don’t know each other?”

“I just mean, you know, one of my exes, one of yours… maybe they’d hit it off…” he trailed off.

“I’m pretty sure Tommy’s involved with someone, and surely you would not be so clueless as to compare one chaste date with Tommy with a marriage to Isabel. In which sex was involved.”

There was pointed silence on the other end.

Kate plowed ahead to cement the point. “And did you consider maybe Kyle wanted Isabel to come over to spend time with him alone? Unlike Tommy, Isabel is not currently involved with someone.”

“I doubt that’s it,” Dom continued, tone still infuriatingly oblivious. “I mean, why would he?”

She wanted to argue the point, but she couldn’t very well admit that Kyle was supposed to be schmoozing Isabel because she asked him to.

“Besides,” Dom continued, “Kyle said Izzy was originally planning on spending the whole day and evening with her great aunt in Papillion baking for some charity thing, but when she heard we’d be there she insisted she could stop by for the game. I guess she has something she wanted to give me.”

“Reaaally,” Kate drawled. She opened her eyes to look over at a smirking Kandace.

“Papillion?” Kandace mouthed.

“I mean we don’t have to go…” he said, his voice finally seeming to catch a clue something was wrong.

“Nope, it’s fine. Sounds like fun,” she chirped.

“Kaaay,” Dom replied doubtfully.

“Loveyoubye,” she said quickly and tapped ‘end’.

She tossed the phone in a drink hole on the console and met her sister’s grim and smug countenance with narrowed eyes.

She’s going down.”

Kandace laughed and floored the gas pedal.

–Copyright 2014, Genevieve Dewey.

 

TEASER TWO:

Katelyn’s face remained set in a stony, furious glare. Just when he thought it’d last forever, it relaxed a bit into a tired, defeated expression.

She stared at the floor as she released a long heavy sigh. “Why do you love me?” she asked softly.

Dominic studied the top of her head, her wild curls headed in odd directions.

“I honestly can’t think of one thing that isn’t worth loving about you,” he replied with the utmost sincerity.

Her head slowly lifted and she shook it. She looked annoyed, frustrated, and pleased all at once.

He smiled gently. “I mean, even your annoying habits make me want to kiss you or laugh—whether at, or with you—and I’ve seen you at your worst. Even better, you’ve seen me at my worst and we’ve stayed friends through it all. Who cares why I fell in love with you? I just did. Period. Skate, if it were possible to choose who we fall in love with, no one would ever get it done, because we’d all be chasing after this ideal person who doesn’t even exist.”

Katelyn frowned a bit then tilted her head slightly shoulder-to-shoulder as if she was mulling over the idea.

“The fact is, I’ve loved you so long it’s just as ingrained a habit as brushing my teeth,” Dom continued with a shrug. “I have no intention of stopping even if you stopped loving me. Which I would hate. It would totally kill me, but I’d deal… while hating it. Completely. Just putting that out there.”

She released a short, weak laugh. “I’ll just ignore the being compared to teeth brushing and focus on the fact that you’re an amazing man. I’m not trying to be falsely modest here, and I’m not being self-deprecating when I say I honestly don’t understand what a sexy man like you is doing with me. I know I’m not ugly. I’m intelligent, and I’ve a good work ethic. I have a pretty good sense of humor, and I can cook a mean tater-tot casserole—”

“Your tater-tot casserole does bring all the boys to the yard.”

“And I can even see why you would love me,” she continued, laughter in her voice, “but to have fallen in love with me, to be as attracted to me as you obviously are… I’m sorry, it’s just… some days I can’t help but think such an amazing man deserves better, even though I’m pretty awesome myself.”

“You are, yes,” Dom answered, trying not to laugh at her incoherent and contradictory babbling.

“Ugh, honestly, I don’t even know why I’m acting this way. All I know is I’m beginning to annoy myself with it. How stupid is it to feel something when your brain is screaming it’s completely illogical? I wish I could tell you why I’ve been so jealous and insecure lately. It’s like my moods are just all over the damn place. Oh my God!” Kate stopped and clapped a hand over her mouth. Then she cupped her cheeks with her palms, her mouth suspended in a pretty pink ‘oh’.

–Copyright 2014, Genevieve Dewey.

 

TEASER THREE:

“Shit! I’m sorry, I—gah!” Kyle covered his eyes with his hand and started backing up to the door. He had about gotten the door shut when he heard her riotous giggling.

“Would you like to stay and watch?” Demi asked.

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, don’t be such a stick in the mud. Everyone does it. I’m sure even a tight-ass like you has done it once or twice.”

“Ok, first, that has got to be the first time in my entire life someone has called me a tight-ass, and second, when and if I spank the monkey is none of your business.”

“Spank the monkey. Nice. A little outdated, but always fun to say.”

He opened his eyes. She had closed her legs but she continued to be unapologetically naked. She trailed one of her painted nails along the base of her stomach and smirked at him. He was starting to get irritated at her lack of embarrassment. Here he was trying to apologize and express common decency, and she was mocking him for it.

“Gee, I’m sorry,” he sneered. “It’s the middle of the day and you’re naked and rubbing one out in your mother’s guest bedroom. If expressing surprise makes me a tight ass, so be it. Exactly what would you have done if I had said yes, I want to watch?”

She rolled on the bed to prop her head on her hand. She looked like a Rafael painting, still-damp hair caressing her hour-glass curves, body adorned only with an enigmatic smile. She moved her free hand to push her chestnut hair back, exposing more to his view and sending a few rivulets of water down to her nipples. It was physically painful to move his eyes back to hers.

“I’ve never really done the voyeur thing before,” she eventually said in a ponderous manner, “but I might like it, who knows? There’s a first time for everything and no one’s expected home for a few hours.”

There was a look in her eye somewhere shy of cynicism but definitely containing that special provocateur’s blend of humor at another’s expense he recognized from his years of interrogating suspects.

“And, as usual, you go trolling for the shock factor,” Kyle sneered.

“No, I said it to be funny. It’s called having a sense of humor. You might get yourself one. I think you’ll find your life easier.”

“Again with you implying I’m repressed with no sense of humor. I don’t even know where to begin with how off-the-mark that is…”

Gee, I’m sorry,” Demetria mimicked him in a taunting manner. “You’re the one walking into my mother’s home and my bedroom without knocking. If joking about it makes me a troll, so be it. Why should I put up with you judging me, but you get a free pass?”

He pinched his nose and took a deep calming breath. He waited until he had turned around to face the door to open his eyes.

“Look, I’m not trying to be a jerk here—”

“And yet, you’re succeeding so admirably,” Demi interrupted.

“I apologize for entering unannounced. I heard—I thought—never mind. If you could turn off the music and get dressed, I need to speak with you about the wedding. I’ll just wait in the kitchen.”

He turned the handle on the door but paused when he heard her voice in his ear and felt her body right behind him.

“Super-secret option B, you get undressed and we have the conversation right here. I have some oils I could use to align your chakras while we chat.”

He shook his head at the door. Why did he even bother to try to reason with this woman? She clearly got her kicks off being outrageous and scandalous, emboldened with an arrogant sense of entitlement that everyone would be too polite to call her bluff.

He turned around abruptly. She smiled in a smug, challenging manner. He returned it with a leer and enjoyed the rapid blink of her eyes and look of confusion that it elicited. He reached up and started unbuttoning his dress shirt.

“Sure. I got a little extra time, and I’ve been told I’m a good multi-tasker. Might as well let you help me loosen up some of this tension from work,” Kyle said.

She started backing up and her face became a marble of emotions: shock, consternation, nervous humor, and trepidation. Her eyes widened to saucer-like proportions as his hands undid his belt. Had no one ever called her on her bullshit before? Maybe it was the swanky music, maybe it was his chubby taking precious blood supply from his brain, but he hadn’t enjoyed calling someone’s bluff this much since the rat squad threatened him with an inquest if he didn’t spy on Tommy’s Mafia connections for them.

“What about Isabel? I thought you two had plans again tonight…” Demetria trailed off, her chin rising in an obvious effort to regain her composure.

“Hey, why don’t I call her and ask her to join us? I mean, you’re all about free love and all that, aren’t you? First time for everything, right?” Kyle mocked.

“I suggested we talk! I never said—” Demi cut off with a flush and a suspicious glare.

She stopped backing up and reached out to pull his belt free of his pants. His gaze never left hers. He tried not to respond any more than he already had when her hand found its way inside his pants.

–Copyright 2014, Genevieve Dewey.

 

TEASER FOUR:

As soon as Demetria heard their car doors slam, she locked the door, poured herself a glass of wine, and tapped Isabel’s icon on her phone contacts.

“Yeah.”

“Oh, sweet baby Jesus, I just did the most fucked up, stupid thing I have done since I dared Janice Pickering to go down on me.”

“Well, that’s a helluva start to a phone conversation,” Isabel replied. “I like it.”

“Oh my Gooood,” Demi wailed.

“We’ve covered the supplications to a deity you no longer worship. Can I get a clue here? Buy a vowel or something?”

“I just had sex with Kyle.”

Silence. Then, “Like…. Kyle Anderson? The guy who is very unsubtly dating me just to placate his sister? That Kyle Anderson?”

“Ugh. Do you hate me?”

“No. Nooooo. Nope,” Isabel replied. “But I am going to need details.”

“Haha! I love you.”

Isabel sighed, “If only that were true.”

“Iz…”

“No, come on, tell me. How’d this happen?”

“I was just… sort of… and then he came in, and we argued, and then…”

“Suddenly your vagina fell on his penis?”

Demi sighed, “Yeah, it was almost that weird and bizarre.”

“Hmmn.”

She could picture Isabel tilting her head shoulder-to-shoulder. “Well, he is pretty good looking,” Izzy continued, “and he’s got that very mid-western, ‘I got this handled, ma’am’ solid, dependable sort of guy thing going on. Not as hot as Dominic, but still, definitely high on the Tingly List for Girls.”

“But… since when have I ever gone after the solid, dependable guy? He’s a cop, for Pete’s sake!”

“Yeahhhh, I knew that already.”

“Omigod, and I had sex with him while he’s dating you and before you have. I mean… before you have, right?”

Demi’s ear filled with Isabel’s loud, exasperated sigh. “Shortcake,” she said, using the nickname she’d given her in college, “sex between Kyle and me was never ever to the ever-never going to happen.”

–Copyright 2014, Genevieve Dewey.

 

TEASER FIVE:

“Demi…”

“Mmnn,” was all she could manage. Soporific didn’t seem strong enough to describe the delicious sense of repletion she was feeling.

“So you’ll stay?”

The only answer she could give was a long, slow exhale. She opened her eyes as his words caught up to her. “What?”

His gaze dipped a little to stare at her chest. “You agreed to give us a try…”

“I know. I know I did, but…”

“Demi. Just a few more days so we can start to get to know each other all over again as adults. You can pretend I’m a stranger. If that’s what you need,” Kyle’s silver-grey eyes were soft and earnest.

Her heart clutched a little. “Kyle, I…”

“Hi, I’m Kyle,” he plowed over her. “I have three sisters and a brother. I’m a detective. I like hockey and football and boiling my brats in Guinness before I grill them. You own a tourist shop, you’re an even bigger Star Wars fan than I am, you don’t eat meat or drink dark beer. Which is fine, more bratwurst for me anyway. You can have the sauerkraut.”

She choked a little laugh out, “That’d be a stranger who’s been stalking me.”

“Admit it. Just admit it, please. You want me as much as I want you.”

“Wanting you isn’t the problem, Kyle,” she said. Her stomach felt like it was inside her heart right now. She pushed herself off his lap and straightened her dress.

–Copyright 2014, Genevieve Dewey.

goodreads-badge-add-plus-8aed1006260a5092a7ebb2a64fe3968c

This Blog Sucks


OMG! This man said exactly everything I feel. So um, yeah, what he said. *muah*

xuemertie's avatarThe Ravings of a Sick Mind

I’m going to be brutally honest here: I don’t really get blogs.

1245227615_colin_farrel

I’m only doing this because I want to sell you books. According to popular wisdom, blogs create a platform, which supposedly translates into sales. I’m not quite sure I buy that. Most of my friends and family who really know me and care about me don’t buy my books, so why should I expect you to just because I wrote some snappy article and posted it on a blog?

Blogs are supposed to let readers get to know you and feel a connection, but that doesn’t always make sense to me either. I read Stephen King, Jim Butcher, P.N. Elrod and others because I love their stories and characters. I don’t give a shit what Stephen King bought at the grocery store today or any of the other random garbage that pops up in blogs. I’ve never understood…

View original post 242 more words

That one post in which Gen answers @laDEEda51’s questions about The Writing Process


So, my friend Deidre at The Red Velvet Chair  asked me to be a stopping point on a blog hop about The Writing Process. I told her I am the chainmail killer. I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve actually tagged forward on one of these things. She was all, ‘pssh, don’t care, whateves’. So I agreed to answer the questions, on the off-chance you were curious as to the answers. It totally wasn’t hard and I’m not sure why I was whining in the first place (story of my life).

Gen’s Writing:

1. What are you working on?

I am currently writing The Good Life, a full length Dom & Kate novel. It features the characters in my popular free short romance The Bird Day Battalion  set in Nebraska. Even though Dom and Kate’s love story is still a major part of the plot, as it centers around their wedding (Ooops! Spoiler! LOL), the main romance is between Kate’s twin brother Kyle and Dom’s sister Demetria. It’s a funny, quirky romance with a strong emphasis on the bonds of family and friendship, a recurrent theme in all my writing. Fans of Bad Penny and Caroline in the V-Day Aversion (Dom&Kate#2) will be happy to know they both make an appearance.

2. How does your work differ from others?

Hmmn, that’s a tough one I guess in that we all write differently. All my stories are told 3rd person, in that manner in which the prose is narrated by the character, thus prone to vernacular. Also, Bird Day Battalion is the only book I’ve written in which there is only one point of view (Kate’s). All my other books have at least two points of view. First, I Love You  has six, (seven if you count the epilogue!) Some like that sort of “head-hopping”, others don’t, however it is not the same sort of head-hopping you would find in a Nora Roberts novel in which you are privy to the thoughts and feelings of more than one character in the same scene, omniscient style. In my books when it is Kate’s point of view, for instance, it is constrained to her and what she knows and feels like in Harry Potter. I also make it a point to include sex scenes from both the female and male point of view which is not always found in romance or family dramas, it’s usually one or the other.

3. Why do you write what you do?

Well…I don’t know. I write what I love, I guess. Family dynamics, love and loyalty, romance, cops and mobsters. I wrote  The Downey Trilogy set mostly in Chicago because I love that city; it is where my family is from. Likewise, I set Bird Day in Nebraska because that is where I was born and raised (mostly).

4. How does your writing process work?

I let ideas and scenes mull around in my head for a while before I write them down. Usually I type them up without writing them on paper, but sometimes I simply have to get them out and then if I am not near my computer, I’ll write them down on whatever I have nearby. I don’t usually write in sequence, or rather I do, but will leave out entire blocks if a later scene is just vivid in my head. Then I go back and bridge to it. I’ll write a scene, flesh it out, then rewrite it a bit, then edit, then edit, then edit. It’s a very circular or ebb and flow process. I try not to force myself to write if the mood is not with me. On those days I edit or proofread or block chapters out (meaning I write down who is in each chapter and what happens, so I can make sure it flows, and there are no major anachronisms or gaps). Oftentimes in the course of doing that, I will end up writing anyway. If all else fails, I strap my inner Hemingway on and fix myself some whiskey. ;p

Thank you, Dee! *smooches*

Goodbye hearts, hello shamrocks. I’m ready to let my inner Irish out.


There are lots of parts to me (and my family), but I’ve always been proud of the Irish bits and pieces. Why? Because I associate these parts with laughter, love, loyalty and perseverance. Is this exclusive to Irish folk? Nah, of course not. But every March when everyone becomes a wee bit Irish for a day, I smile and think it’s funny people think of drinking and parades. Because to me it’s always been about family and faith… that wee part of me.

Alright, enough of the pointless blither blather. I’m dusting off a Letter From Mickey that contains the sort of wisdom my grandpa was fond of sending me in HIS letters:

 

Dear Tommy,

First, I love you and I hope you are well!

A little birdie told me your hockey team didn’t make it to the finals. I am sorry to hear this and I know it is not from any lack on your part. You are quite talented, I am sure. Defeats are a part of life’s lessons for us I am afraid. Sadly they only get harsher as life moves on. But it is how you handle these disappointments that makes the mettle of a man. But I have no worries there, even as a young child you always brushed off disappointments with only a minimal fuss. A trait you get from your mother, no doubt, as it couldn’t have been easy raising you alone but she never complained. Even in the end shortly before she left, for as many arguments as we had she still was as loving and patient as ever. Every day I was able to spend with you, she always had a smile on her face and no matter the struggles she had, she could always find a way to spin a positive out of it. I remember one time when you were only about 2 years old, she had been ill all week with the Flu and had lost her waitressing job from the missed work. I brought her roses and the rent for the remainder of the year expecting to have to comfort her. But you know what she did? She smiled wide, handed you to me, and said, ‘I’m only sad I can’t smell these roses.’ I fed you dinner (spaghetti-os were your favorite) and I even got to give you your bath, something your mother usually did herself as I apparently made too much of a mess playing battleship with you. It was my habit each night I got to spend with you to rock you to sleep telling you stories your great grandfather, Seamus O’Malley, had passed on to me. Now, there is a man whose veins run with pure steel–he never met a disappointment he couldn’t turn into a blessing! He is a full 45 years older than I, yet he can still run circles around me in a spirited argument and still carves every day. If I possess even half of his vigor at his age I will truly be blessed. Anyway, this story was one of your favorites, or I should say, sent you to sleep the fastest, which in retrospect might be saying the opposite. You’ll have to tell me which case it is upon hearing it at an older age: 

Finnegan had been a hard working man, if the work you were speaking about was finding ways to do the least amount of work to gain the most. One of his favorite things to do was trick people in to buying his tales of magical healing wells. Now back then people had heard of Brigid’s Well but few knew where to find it. Finnegan would spin a yarn about how he had thrice been cured by it himself and he knew the secret path to get there. They would pay him in food and shelter and other such comforts to show them where the well existed. But wily Finnegan would lead them around in circles until they were good and dizzy then leave them off at the nearest spring he could find. By the time they discovered the water was just ordinary water, he would be long gone. One night he was sleeping in a barn and a Wee One appeared before him.

“Finnegan,” she said. “It just so happens there is such a well in Kildare as to make a sick man healed. Would you like to know how to find it?”

“Oh, yes, very much,” Finnegan replied, thanking his good fortune, but suspicious of it just the same. “What is it you would want in exchange?”

“You must agree never to trick others again. And, I must warn you, you can only drink the water if you truly seek healing.”

“Of course,” Finnegan agreed, while crossing his finger behind him.

The Wee One told him the well’s location and Finnegan began searching for it, out of curiosity and avarice. But every time he would get near where the well was supposed to be, he would find he was right back where he had started. But he would always begin again thinking this would be the time he would find it. He began to waste away from obsession and lack of food. One day as he was resting on a low wall along came a fair maiden. She gave him some warm bread and he told her of his quest. He figured he had been tricked by the Wee One just as he had tricked others because even now, when he was truly sick, he still could not find the water.

“You poor dear,” the girl said. “I’m afraid Morrigan left out the most important part. You must truly want to get well to find the water in the first place.”

“What foolishness is this?” Finnegan asked. “Of course I want to get well!” And he did, for she was quite beautiful and he could see himself raising goats and children with her as a good and honest man.

“Then drink,” Brigid said and waved her hand. Behind her apace was a small circle of stones with a bucket suspended atop. He drank the cool, mossy water and suddenly felt no desire to wander anymore.

He settled down and made a good life with her. But one day his past came to haunt him as these things tend to do. One of the people he had tricked in the past came seeking justice. When Finnegan offered to let him drink from their well, the man thought he was being tricked yet again and absconded with Finnegan’s bride. Enraged, Finnegan armed himself and his children and swore vengeance upon the man and all who would aid him, vowing he would not stop until he was reunited with his fair love. But he did not know Brigid had sacrificed herself rather than be used by his enemies. So, endlessly he searched, killing all those who dared try and stop him. After each battle, those who would come to claim the bodies of their kin would swear Brigid’s ghost would wander about the dead, crying for their souls, and singing: ‘Until we meet again, my love, until we meet again’.

Then one day, wearied unto his soul from his searching, Finnegan laid down his weapons and gathered his children and grandchildren near and said, ‘enough’ and breathed his last breath, thus finally being reunited with his eternal bride. But his children did not weep, for there is nothing so perfect as a thing with no ending and no beginning, such as a family of souls intertwined.

My dear boy, I think of this story often when I think of you and your mother, not just because it reminds me of when we were together, but because it gives me comfort knowing that eventually, we will be a family again.

Your loving father,

Mickey.

FILYversion413   SoACoverVersion513   ThirdTimePreReveal