Decisions, decisions, decisions !!
Do you remember the decisions that shaped your life? The decisions you yourself made, not the ones fate forced on you? Sometimes they stick in your memory forever, and often you don’t even notice their importance at the time.
I made one when I was sixteen, in high school and thrilled to pieces when a handsome hunk (hereafter known as HH) asked me to a school dance. You don’t really want to know how long ago that was, do you? I’d secretly drooled for weeks over this guy, and could hardly believe my good luck. Then, only a week before the big dance, my very favorite aunt died suddenly. She’d always been the mainstay of our small, fatherless family, coming to visit whenever her teaching job allowed her to help out. I quite simply adored her.
On top of the sorrow of her death, I learned her funeral would be the weekend of the prom. Services were to be in another part of the state, and in order to attend, you guessed it, I would miss the dance. My mother, bless her, left it entirely up to me. So I had to decide on my own what to do.
You can imagine how I was pulled in opposite directions. Finally, after much agonizing, I chose to attend the last services for Aunt Ella. HH took the news with polite acceptance, and you guessed it, I never heard from him again, except to pass him in the school corridors.
Was I surprised? No. Was I devastated? Pretty much. Although even underneath my regret I was proud I’d made the right and hard decision. Ella had changed my life for the better in so many small ways. I do think that decision helped shape me for the better. I’m so glad I didn’t go the selfish route, although at the time it was hard, hard, hard.
Now I’d love to have you tell me if you can remember your first difficult decision. How you responded? How old were you? Did you make the same choice you’d make today?
Come on, I’ve told all, now you tell me about yourself.
Do you remember the decisions that shaped your life? The decisions you yourself made, not the ones fate forced on you? Sometimes they stick in your memory forever, and often you don’t even notice their importance at the time.
I made one when I was sixteen, in high school and thrilled to pieces when a handsome hunk (hereafter known as HH) asked me to a school dance. You don’t really want to know how long ago that was, do you? I’d secretly drooled for weeks over this guy, and could hardly believe my good luck. Then, only a week before the big dance, my very favorite aunt died suddenly. She’d always been the mainstay of our small, fatherless family, coming to visit whenever her teaching job allowed her to help out. I quite simply adored her.
On top of the sorrow of her death, I learned her funeral would be the weekend of the prom. Services were to be in another part of the state, and in order to attend, you guessed it, I would miss the dance. My mother, bless her, left it entirely up to me. So I had to decide on my own what to do.
You can imagine how I was pulled in opposite directions. Finally, after much agonizing, I chose to attend the last services for Aunt Ella. HH took the news with polite acceptance, and you guessed it, I never heard from him again, except to pass him in the school corridors.
Was I surprised? No. Was I devastated? Pretty much. Although even underneath my regret I was proud I’d made the right and hard decision. Ella had changed my life for the better in so many small ways. I do think that decision helped shape me for the better. I’m so glad I didn’t go the selfish route, although at the time it was hard, hard, hard.
Now I’d love to have you tell me if you can remember your first difficult decision. How you responded? How old were you? Did you make the same choice you’d make today?
Come on, I’ve told all, now you tell me about yourself.
Blurb for The Third Rose:
When Sara Coverly hides in Lord Wolverton’s bedroom to avenge him for the rape of her friend, she is determined to shoot him so he can never ruin another female. Instead she finds herself wondering if she’s picked the wrong man! Wolf decides he needs a token fiancée to cover his tracks as he searches for a spy, and soon Sara finds herself helping him. And falling deeply in love.
Wolf’s espionage duties bring danger to them both. When he decodes a message threatening the assassination of Wellington at Waterloo, they both set out for Brussels to catch the villain.
Can their growing love endure through war, a desperate villain who is out to stop them, and Wolf’s determination to save Wellington at any cost?
Excerpt:
At last. The bastard had come home. He must have lit more candles, as the room became brighter. She could see a large man, elegantly dressed, stride across the room. Double drat! He moved out of her vision, and she did not dare part the draperies any further. She waited, breath suspended, as he re-appeared and sat on the bed. He arched one long muscled leg, bending over to tug at his boot. His face was in shadow, but his build was powerful, that of a more than adequate sportsman. His size didn’t worry her. A gun was a great equalizer.
He meant to take his boots off himself? She was surprised he didn’t require his valet to wait up for him. An unusual bit of consideration for a servant, one she’d not expected. She’d thought she’d have to stay hidden until the valet had come and gone. Perhaps this was better, since at least he was decently clothed. Not that she’d let any missish tendencies deter her. Actually seeing a large nude male might be educational.
Now was the time.
She cocked the gun and stepped out in front of him, the barrel pointed directly at him.
“You will please rise, my lord. I do not intend to shoot a seated villain.” She felt pride in the composure of her voice. She’d worried a little about that.
Wolverton did not appear unduly upset, although his eyebrows arched upward. He bent the long leg stretched on the bed and clasped both hands around his knee.
“A woman. How interesting. I admit you make a very fetching young man dressed in those breeches, but your voice is definitely female. Might I inquire why you have your gun pointed at me?”
She had to give him his due. His tone seemed as cool as hers, and she certainly must have been a nasty surprise. Although come to think of it, he probably often found women accosting him in his bedchamber. But surely for more pleasurable purposes, cad that he was.
“Stand up, my lord.”
Neither her voice nor the hand holding the gun on him wavered, as Joshua Sinclair, Earl of Wolverton, slowly placed both his boots on the luxurious Aubusson carpet and rose to his feet.
“Is there anything I can do for you, madam?” he inquired, as politely as if he were asking her if she took milk with her tea.
She shook her head slowly, carefully lowering the gun a trifle. What a shame he was such a handsome devil, but then she should have expected no less from a despoiler of virgins.
She was pleased to see him blanch a little as he realized where she aimed.
“Can I persuade you to raise your gun a little? I don’t mind being shot in the chest nearly as much as if you hit the most valued part of my anatomy.”
Accolades for Jean's previous work:
Druid Redeemed. Fallen Angel Reviews. Five angels: A fantastic novel. Stewart deserves praise for delivering this superb treasure.
Kiss of a Druid Bard. Love Romances. Five hearts: Another great story, full of adventure and emotion. This reviewer will be first in line to get Stewart’s books.
Damien’s Destiny. The Romance Studio. Five hearts: Ms. Stewart weaves bits of history to help keep us interested. Fascinating and well-crafted. Her word power in building pictures of places and characters is exceptional.
Druid in Flight. Love Romances and More…4.5 hearts: A fabulous story, interwoven with adventure and a sensual love story. Characters leap from the pages…the story had me captivated until the last page.
6 comments:
Thanks for having me, Nicole. Love your website and blog and it's fun to be here.....Jean
What a touching story, Jean. I lost my father when I was thirteen, to alcoholism. I vividly recall vowing to do my best to always let those I love know how much I love them. And to appreciate life. It's fleeting.
Thank you for sharing with us.
Amber. thanks for commenting... I lost by father when I was six, which has doubtless influenced my whole life. Ant thank to Nicole for having me. Isn't hers a beautiful site? Jean
Thanks for being on my blog, Jean! The Third Rose sounds like a must-read.
Hi Jean :)
Such a touching story, thankfully I havn't had to make a decision that hard. Taking a job at a MR Center (Center for Developmentally Disabled people)was about the hardest decision I ever had to make. My Grandmother Sadie and my Father were dead set against it but left the decision up to me.
29 years later I'm STILL working for the state and have been assigned to 3 different centers as previous centers closed.
I still love my job!
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