Good morning! Laura Scott here celebrating an amazing milestone in my 20 year author career. My new July release - Guarding His Secret Son is my 70th book with Harlequin!
Earlier this year, over the span of five weeks, I was in seven different states. Four graduations, a new birth, and other family and friend events took me from Michigan to Hawaii and several points in between. That meant spending time in a number of airports. I have now realized that airports are like the Land of Oz in at least three ways.
Nothing in an airport is as it seems. In the Las Vegas airport, I purchased what was described as barbeque with pork, cabbage slaw, a pickle, and a brioche bun. I'd eaten barbeque in an airport before and $18.33 seemed a fair price for a plate, so I placed my order. What I got was a sandwich four inches across with a couple of tablespoons of pork bbq (the edges dried to crispy), two more tablespoons of chopped cabbage, and a couple of pickle slices. It had sat so long on a warming table that the sandwich bottom rang when I thumped it with my fingernail. The only attendant had disappeared, so there was no one to hear my complaint. Since it was midday and I hadn't eaten, I choked down my bbq. It was my own fault, after all. I've been in other airports. I should have known.
As in Oz, there is somewhere a wizard, a "man behind the curtain," who makes decisions that affect dozens or hundreds of travelers at a time. Was your flight delayed, and delayed again, and then finally canceled? Some faceless, nameless soul made that choice. Was your gate changed at the last minute requiring you to run like mad, swinging your carryon, as you moved from an A gate to a C gate or even to a different terminal and a possible second trip through security? Whose decision was that? I picture someone in a booth watching the camera images of that mad dash and chuckling maniacally.
You can sit down next to a person you've never seen before. The two of you are waiting for the same delayed flight and both have time on your hands. You may learn all about that person's recent divorce, the wedding they're traveling to, the funeral they're returning from, or when the doctor wants to operate on their failing knees. A few minutes later, you're on the plane in different rows and you'll never see that traveler again except, perhaps, at baggage claim. As Dorothy said, "People come and go so quickly here."
Yes, in a few ways, an airport is much like the Land of Oz. Though I see the problems, I plan to travel more and I expect to be in many more airports. What amazes me more than anything is the engineering and organizational brilliance that keeps such places running. Given the numbers of airlines, airplanes, flights, and travelers who are accommodated every single day in airports all around the world, it's astonishing that so many of us get where we intend to go and arrive more or less when we expect to be there. Hats off to the man, or the woman, behind that curtain.The list of bad actors disguising themselves as good neighbors is endless. We've had our share of early morning wake-up calls from barking dogs—ugh. The neighbor who won't shovel snow to their door, rake leaves, or do exterior repairs? There always seems to be one who won't follow the rules.
My story isn't about neighbor nightmares. I've lived in a cul-de-sac for more than 30 years, and I love my neighbors. If there is death in a household, my neighbors are on top of it, coordinating food deliveries, monetary gifts, attending funerals, and writing resolutions.
These are the types of neighbors who have keys to your house in case of an emergency, will pick up your child from school or an event, or cut your grass when you’re sick. We have gotten together to celebrate each other's birthdays, anniversaries, and game nights.
Priceless.
I live in a suburb of St. Louis, about twenty miles from the city limit, so I’m not in a rural area.
Some of us are now empty nesters, while others are young married couples with expanding families. I guess it's time to think about downsizing, but what about the neighbors? If I can take them with me, I won't hesitate. Healthy living includes surrounding yourself with people you can depend on—that's my neighbors.
I guess I should mention that our house is a must-hit for fundraisers—I still have cookies and pizza in my freezer that probably need to be thrown away. It is the designated safe house for their children to run to in case of an emergency. That is an honor I don’t take lightly in an era where people can't be trusted because we don't know what goes on behind closed doors.
I can't say enough about good neighbors because sometimes, they are really hard to find.
Pat holds a B.S. in mass communications from Emerson College in Boston, Massachusetts, and has worked in radio, television, and print media for over twenty years. She is on the Christian Book Lovers Retreat (CBLR) board as a publicist. Visit her at www.patsimmons.net.
Reportedly, the Christmas in July tradition started in 1993 in Brevard, North Carolina at a girl's summer camp. The camp celebrated Christmas that July 24 & 25th, including a Santa, Christmas tree, and gift exchange. Since that time, Christmas in July has become a staple in pop culture.
So, what are your thoughts on Christmas in July? Are you a fan or someone who is indifferent, or someone who thinks it's silly?
As for me, I love Christmas and don't mind celebrating it every single day. I mean, what's not to love about peace on earth and good will to all? But, I get why some might not enjoy this middle of the year celebration.
WRAPPED UP IN CHRISTMAS LOVE is coming November 2024 from Tule Publishing
There are a lot of things I like about summer: the flowers, the warm weather, and the freedom to eat ice cream whenever I want. At the top of the list is reconnecting with friends.
Many of the stories I write, like what I'm sharing in this week's sneak peek from Cottage Cove New Beginnings, were inspired by adventures I shared with my friends.
This year's fun began with all of us renting houses on a Scottish estate, setting the stage for trying things we'd never do on our own. We explored historic sites, hearing tales that far surpassed anything we could have imagined. Truly, there were several "life can be stranger than fiction" moments in history.
Our escapades didn’t stop there. I tried my hand at archery—you'll see this story in Cottage Cove New Beginnings too. The fiction story deviates a bit from reality—let's just say I won the “person most likely to miss the target” award. It was a humbling and humorous experience.
They’re there to support us when life feels overwhelming, and they’re equally powerful in encouraging us to grow. The companionship and encouragement of friends add a special layer to our lives and our stories.
It'll be a couple of months until Cottage Cove New Beginnings is available. So I'm sharing a snippet of a chapter inspired by this summer's fun.
When she settled her hands on her hips in the classic mom-you-need-to-start-with-the-facts pose, Ivan laughed. “If you’d have asked, I’d have told you.”
“Are we close to the finish?”
Ivan felt the delight of being with Jess on the edges of his lips. The weight of hiding it was getting heavier than he could carry. He slowly shook his head.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“When you’re in a relationship—be it friendship or romantic, it’s better to share the ownership of the choices. Regardless of the outcome it weaves the personalities into how the people will hear the story. Instead of I was right and you were wrong. It’s a you and me versus.” He waved at the greenery around them. “The maze.”
“Are we lost?” she asked, jumping as though seeing the tops of the bushes would open her eyes to the lines they needed to follow.
Except for when he played basketball with Jamie and Clark, people told Ivan what he could do to fit in with their plan—or Ivan worked hard to fit in. With Jess, he could just be. She held no expectation of him. They were in the maze because he had brought her to it, and she went along with it. It was a freeing feeling—like he belonged. Ivan said, “I feel like we’re in a good place.”
**This is where the sample ends. You can use the link below to preorder your copy Cottage Cove New Beginnings.**
| Link to Preorder Cottage Cove New Beginnings |
This is the kind of barn I often saw when I lived in South Dakota as a kid. I have one book set in South Dakota.
Nothing much had changed in ten years on the farm where Rachel Charbonneau had grown up. The faded red barn sat against a backdrop of fields newly planted with grain and alfalfa. A gentle breeze rustled shiny green leaves in the cottonwoods lining the creek. The peaceful picture didn’t tell the whole story. Despite its appeal, she hated this place.
The barn in this story is neither bright red or weathered brown. The red has faded, and so has the heroine's love for the farm where she grew up.
I'll share a few paragraphs from the other books I have that mention barns. A Match to Call Ours and Hometown Cowboy
The following Wednesday afternoon, Brittany tromped across the snow-covered ground as she tried to match Parker’s long strides. Rose and Jasmine, bundled up in hooded coats, mittens, and boots, skipped ahead toward the one-story house with bright blue shingled siding. It sat between the big house, as Parker called it, and the gray pole barn on the right. Outbuildings and a couple of other small houses with roofs covered in snow dotted the nearby acreage.
Hometown Cowboy even has a barn on the cover.
Three stories and three different barns. Have you ever been in a barn?