GIVEAWAY ENTRY “TROUBLE IN TEXAS” by Katie Lane ENDED

CMash December 18, 2012 36 Comments

DECEMBER 18th to JANUARY 1st, 2013

TROUBLE IN TEXAS
by KATIE LANE

SYNOPSIS:

THERE’S A FOX IN THE HENHOUSE
Inheriting the most notorious house of ill repute in Texas can spell trouble for a girl’s reputation . . . especially when she’s Elizabeth Murphy, Bramble’s prim and proper librarian. Yet when she discovers a buck-naked cowboy handcuffed to a four-poster bed, she forgets all about the town gossips. Elizabeth has sworn off men, but the stranger’s kisses melt her resolve faster than ice cream on a hot summer day.
Waking up in Miss Hattie’s Henhouse isn’t how Brant Cates reckoned on getting to the bottom of his great-granddaddy’s murder. The plan was to solve the centuries-old crime, then get the heck out of Dodge. But after meeting Elizabeth and discovering that the buttoned-up beauty is a sexy siren in disguise, he just can’t pull himself away.
Now Brant needs Elizabeth to finally put his past to rest, but is she willing to risk her future on Bramble’s newest bad boy?

THANKS TO JIHAN, AND THE

WONDERFUL PEOPLE AT GCP/FOREVER

I HAVE TWO ( 2 ) COPIES OF THIS
BOOK TO GIVE AWAY.
HERE IS WHAT YOU NEED TO DO TO WIN.

*USE THE RAFFLECOPTER FORM BELOW
IN ORDER TO BE INCLUDED IN THE GIVEAWAY*
BE SURE TO INCLUDE YOUR EMAIL

ADDRESS IN THE RAFFLECOPTER FORM
SO THAT I CAN CONTACT YOU IF YOU WIN
*LEAVE COMMENT: FROM READING THE SYNOPSIS,
DO YOU THINK ELIZABETH RISKS HER FUTURE?*

*U.S. RESIDENTS ONLY*
*NO P.O. BOXES*

**PER PUBLISHER**
ONE WINNING BOOK PER HOUSEHOLD
PLEASE NOTIFY ME IF YOU HAVE
WON THIS BOOK FROM ANOTHER
SITE, SO THAT SOMEONE ELSE MAY
HAVE THE CHANCE TO WIN
AND READ THIS BOOK.
THANK YOU.

*GIVEAWAY ENDS JANUARY 1st AT 6PM EST*

WINNER WILL BE CHOSEN BY RAFFLECOPTER AND NOTIFIED
VIA EMAIL AND WILL HAVE 48 HOURS TO RESPOND
OR ANOTHER NAME WILL BE CHOSEN

DISCLAIMER / RULES

Giveaway copies are supplied and shipped to winners via publisher,
the giveaway on behalf of the
above. I received a copy of this book, at no charge to me, in
exchange for my honest review. No items that I receive are
ever sold…they are kept by me, or given to family and/or friends.

I am not responsible for lost or damaged books that are shipped
from agents. I reserve the right to disqualify/delete any entries
if rules of giveaway are not followed

YOUR JAVA SCRIPT MAY NEED TO BE UPDATED
IF YOU AR EXPERIENCING DIFFICULTY
USING THE RAFFLECOPTER ENTRY FORM

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Giveaway, Winners

And the winner is……..

CMash December 17, 2012 Leave a Comment

……of Leaving the Hall Lights On by Madeline Sharples

2 Andrew T. Kuligowski Be a Public Follower of ‘CMASH Loves to Read’

An email has been sent to the winner and he has 48 hours to respond or another winner will be chosen. Thank you to all that entered.

GCP/Forever, Guest Author, Showcase

Guest Author Dee Davis

CMash December 17, 2012 1 Comment

Do I have a treat for you!!!! Take a break from holiday shopping, grab a coffee, get comfy. Our friend Jessica, from GCP/Forever, is stopping by with a very special guest, author of 24 books, Ms. Dee Davis!!!

DEE DAVIS

Dee Davis has a BA in Political Science and History, and a Masters Degree in Public Administration. During a ten-year career in public relations, she spent three years on the public speaking circuit, edited two newsletters, wrote three award winning public service announcements, did television and radio commercials, starred in the Seven Year Itch, taught college classes, lobbied both the Texas State Legislature and the US Congress, and served as the director of two associations.

Her highly acclaimed first novel, Everything In Its Time, was published in July 2000. Since then, among others, she’s won the Booksellers Best, Golden Leaf, Texas Gold and Prism awards, and been nominated for the National Readers Choice Award, the Holt and two RT Reviewers Choice Awards. To date, she has sold twenty-one books and four novellas, including the A-Tac Series and Set-Up in SoHo.

She’s lived in Austria and traveled in Europe extensively. And although she now lives in Manhattan she still calls Texas home.
Visit Ms. Davis at her website, Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest and GoodReads.

GUEST POST

So one of the things I hate most in life is starting over. See, I’ve moved all off my life. Every two years when I was a kid. My dad turned down a commission in the army because my mom didn’t want to move so much. So we think he went out immediately and found a job that meant moving more than the army. I definitely get my passive aggressive tendencies from my father. But I digress. The point is that I always thought that when I found that perfect someone (and I did) that I’d get married, find the perfect house and settle down FOREVER. No more moving.

But life has a way of turning proclamations like that on their ear. And I am hear to tell you that in twenty-three years of marriage, I have moved six times. Which is a much better average than my youth, but still…it’s a lot of new houses and apartments. So you can just imagine when my husband announced that he thought we should leave Manhattan and move to the country. (Suburbs really, but in this part of the world it feels like the country). The soundtrack of Green Acres started playing in my head as I tried to picture myself in Hooterville.

Well, of course that turns out to have been a drastic overstatement. I’ve seen nothing but beautiful villages, most with fabulous shopping and entertainment options close-by. And the houses are to die for. Beautiful turn of the century Victorians. Mid-twentieth century homes that have been beautifully maintained on graceful tree-shrouded lots. And most exciting of all, antique homes built when people like Thomas Jefferson were president. Imagine living in a home with that kind of history.

But the idea, although definitely more palatable, still scares the heck out of me. Did I mention that I don’t like change? But I also know, thanks to all the moving around over the years, that every place has something amazing to offer. And that if you can survive the actual house-hunting, moving period, then only great things await as you explore your new environs. But standing here at the beginning of the quest, I’m still a little panicked. And all I’m talking about is moving house.

What if you found yourself completely adrift? What if the career you’d worked your whole life to be a part of suddenly was taken away. Ended by something completely out of your control? That’s the kind of change that can shake you to the very core. And something so many Americans have had to face of late with our economic challenges.

And that’s exactly where the hero of my latest A-Tac novel, Double Danger, finds himself. After a mission gone horribly wrong, Simon Kincaid finds himself injured, and as a result unable to continue as a Navy S.E.A.L. Not only that, men under his charge were killed during the same mission—one of them his best friend, Ryan. Trying to regroup, and redefine himself, Simon lands a job with A-Tac, a black ops arm of the CIA using the cover of a bucolic NY college as cover. But finding his place in the tightly-knit unit hasn’t been easy. And when all hell breaks loose and he’s reunited with Ryan’s widow, he is forced to face not only his failures in the recent past, but also those from long ago, when he chose to walk away from the only woman he ever loved.

Change is never easy. But sometimes out of great trials come amazing things. All we have to do is open our hearts and embrace the future. (And in my case—give up Times Square!)

ABOUT THE BOOK

Ignoring his instincts once cost Simon a vital op-and the life of his best friend, Ryan. Now as escalating, violent attacks hit A-Tac, another person he loves is in danger. Homeland Security agent Jillian Montgomery’s investigation has suddenly brought her back into Simon’s life, and unless they can learn to trust each other, their dangerous mission will fail.

After her husband Ryan’s death, Jillian dedicates herself to saving others. She can’t afford to be tempted by Simon, even though his every touch reignites the desire they once shared. But in the last desperate minutes before disaster strikes, their second chance at love might be the most lethal trap of all . . .
Purchase links: Amazon B&N IndieBound

THANKS TO JESSICA, AT GCP/FOREVER, I HAVE ONE (1) COPY
OF THIS BOOK TO GIVE AWAY. U.S. RESIDENTS ONLY

CLICK HERE TO BRING YOU TO
THE GIVEAWAY ENTRY PAGE.

DISCLAIMER
I received a copy of this book, at no charge to me,
in exchange for my honest review.
No items that I receive
are ever sold…they are kept by me,
or given to family and/or friends.
ADDENDUM
I do not have any affiliation with Amazon.com or
Barnes & Noble. I am an IndieBound affliate.
I am providing link(s) solely for visitors
that may be interested in purchasing this Book/EBook.

GCP/Forever, Giveaway

GIVEAWAY ENTRY “DOUBLE DANGER” by Dee Davis ENDED

CMash December 17, 2012 28 Comments

DECEMBER 17th to DECEMBER 31st, 2012

DOUBLE DANGER
by DEE DAVIS

SYNOPSIS:

Ignoring his instincts once cost Simon a vital op-and the life of his best friend, Ryan. Now as escalating, violent attacks hit A-Tac, another person he loves is in danger. Homeland Security agent Jillian Montgomery’s investigation has suddenly brought her back into Simon’s life, and unless they can learn to trust each other, their dangerous mission will fail.After her husband Ryan’s death, Jillian dedicates herself to saving others. She can’t afford to be tempted by Simon, even though his every touch reignites the desire they once shared. But in the last desperate minutes before disaster strikes, their second chance at love might be the most lethal trap of all . . .

THANKS TO JESSICA, AND THE VERY

MERRY ELVES AT GCP/FOREVER

I HAVE ONE ( 1 ) COPY OF THIS
BOOK TO GIVE AWAY.
HERE IS WHAT YOU NEED TO DO TO WIN.

*USE THE RAFFLECOPTER FORM BELOW
IN ORDER TO BE INCLUDED IN THE GIVEAWAY*
BE SURE TO INCLUDE YOUR EMAIL

ADDRESS IN THE RAFFLECOPTER FORM
SO THAT I CAN CONTACT YOU IF YOU WIN
*LEAVE COMMENT: FROM READING THE SYNOPSIS,
WHAT DO YOU THINK THE “DISASTER” MIGHT BE?*

*U.S. RESIDENTS ONLY*
*NO P.O. BOXES*

**PER PUBLISHER**
ONE WINNING BOOK PER HOUSEHOLD
PLEASE NOTIFY ME IF YOU HAVE
WON THIS BOOK FROM ANOTHER
SITE, SO THAT SOMEONE ELSE MAY
HAVE THE CHANCE TO WIN
AND READ THIS BOOK.
THANK YOU.

*GIVEAWAY ENDS DECEMBER 31st AT 6PM EST*

WINNER WILL BE CHOSEN BY RAFFLECOPTER AND NOTIFIED
VIA EMAIL AND WILL HAVE 48 HOURS TO RESPOND
OR ANOTHER NAME WILL BE CHOSEN

DISCLAIMER / RULES

Giveaway copies are supplied and shipped to winners via publisher,
the giveaway on behalf of the
above. I received a copy of this book, at no charge to me, in
exchange for my honest review. No items that I receive are
ever sold…they are kept by me, or given to family and/or friends.

I am not responsible for lost or damaged books that are shipped
from agents. I reserve the right to disqualify/delete any entries
if rules of giveaway are not followed

YOUR JAVA SCRIPT MAY NEED TO BE UPDATED
IF YOU AR EXPERIENCING DIFFICULTY
USING THE RAFFLECOPTER ENTRY FORM

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Mailbox Monday, Meme, Monday Memes, Musing Mondays

Monday Memes

CMash December 17, 2012 2 Comments

Hosted by Miz B at Should Be Reading

This week’s question:
This week’s musing – courtesy of http://www.kwizgiver.com – asks…
Is there a particular book that is your nemesis–the book you’re determined to one day finish?

My response:
Hmmm…good question.

However, as I look around my office/reading room and see the 3 over loaded bookcases and 2 EReaders, I can’t say there is one particular book. What I can say, is that I hope one day in the near future, I would and could be able to read at least ~~1/2~~, ~~1/3~~, 1/4 of the books that are stuffed into these bookcases and transferred into the “read” bookcase. And as I look around, and see books shoved into these bookcases, I realize that I have a problem, a very BIG problem. I am definitely addicted to books and need to restrain myself from bringing any more into my house, but I so love being surrounded by them.

What about you? Is there a specific book that you want to finish? Or are you like me and just want to dwindle down your stacks?

December is being hosted by Suko’s Notebook

Mailbox Monday was created by Marcia of A girl and her books and is now on tour.
According to Marcia, “Mailbox Monday is the gathering place for readers to share the books that came into their house last week. Warning: Mailbox Monday can lead to envy, toppling TBR piles and humongous wish lists.”
Click on book for synopsis via IndieBound (I am an Indiebournd Affliate)

Shop Indie Bookstores
Tuesday: Friendfluence by Carlin Flora~ARC from Doubleday for PBP

Events, Misc

Memorial

CMash December 16, 2012 1 Comment

I am heart broken as I’m sure millions across the world are. And feeling at a loss of what to do, other than pray for those who tragically lost their lives, their families, the survivors and their families, I wanted to pay tribute to them and those that live in CT.

Ever since this horrific tragedy took place on Friday, one of the images that I keep vividly remembering is when my boys were that age, kissing them goodbye as they walked into their school. How many of those families did the same but never thinking it would be the last time. I am Blessed because I can still kiss my, now adult, sons.

My oldest son, who lives in CT, called me as soon as he got home from work on Friday, and is devastated. Asking me questions I could not answer.

I know we are not to ask why, just know it is to be God’s will. We may never know why and how this could happen to innocents, 20 babies, 6 adults doing their job and a mother of a very troubled young man. Twenty little angels possibly drawing pictures of Christmas or making Christmas cards, with excitement that Santa would be arriving in a couple of weeks, and instead, an evil “bad man” arrived.

I can’t even begin to imagine what these families and the residents of Newtown CT are going through. I have a very heavy heart and have shed tears since this unimaginable event took place. Am at a loss at wanting to do something but not knowing what to do, except praying for all those that have been affected and remembering those that were taken much too soon.

Please pause, read the names above, remember and please pray for them and their families. Dear God, please take these families in your loving arms, give them strength, protect and heal them and let them know that their loved ones will not be forgotten. Amen.

Giveaway, The Book Trib/Media Muscle

And the winner is…..

CMash December 15, 2012 Leave a Comment

………of The Spanish Revenge by Allan Topol

11 Maureen Carol Tweet about the Giveaway

An email has been sent to the winner and she has 48 hours to respond or another winner will be chosen. Thank you to all that entered.

Guest Author, Partners In Crime Tours

Guest Author CJ West

CMash December 15, 2012 Leave a Comment

Today I have the distinct honor to introduce you to a very busy, talented and author of 7 novels, as he kicks off his virtual tour with Partners In Crime Tours. Please help me give a warm welcome to Mr. CJ West!!!!

CJ WEST

C.J. West is the author of seven suspense novels including The End of Marking Time and Sin and Vengeance, which was optioned into development for film by Beantown Productions, LLC (screenplay by Marla Cukor).
Connect with CJ at his website, blog and Facebook.

GUEST POST

Does This Label Make Me Look Sexy?

My research for Dinner At Deadman’s took me to some places that might make you feel queasy and to some estate sales where people love to browse, but some can’t bring themselves to buy because they feel icky buying something from a dead person. My hero, Lorado Martin, has made a hobby out of spotting the treasure in heaps of old junk and he’s pretty darned good at it in real life, too.

A great example is the brown jacket in my Facebook profile pic. It’s my favorite jacket and I wear it often to conferences and signings. It feels lucky after I’ve worn it so much. You’ll have to judge if it’s sexy or not. My brother Lorado (yes my protagonist is created based on my brother), bought that same jacket from a charity called GiftsToGive. Same color. Same label. Much bigger size! But the price was the big difference. I paid $70. He paid $3.

That started me thinking about how much we pay to feel sexy. The only difference between my jacket and his is the store where it was purchased.

My sneakers are another example. I paid about $30. Kids spend a hundred for the cool brand of sneakers so they can fit in on the playground. Luckily at my age I know I’m cool. I don’t need the right pair of sneakers to tell me so. That doesn’t stop the kids (and even some grown women) from scoffing at the label on mine.

Now I’m going to tell you a secret that could crash the American economy. So keep this to yourself… My brother sells ladies handbags for twenty-five cents. They open at the top. They zipper. And they have a strap to make it easy to carry things around. Still, my daughters both have bags that cost $300 and scream status. (Thanks to their mother. I’d never spend that much money on something so frivolous.)

So why do we spend so much money on things when we don’t need to? According to The Economist, it’s all about sex.

I wonder if we’ll ever evolve to a world where labels don’t make us special. Where frugality reigns and men select women who buy a $10 bag instead of wasting $300. Wouldn’t that be a lifelong recipe for happiness? Men continually complain about how much money their wives spend. Why not pick one who is frugal from the beginning?

Ladies, would you be caught dead with a twenty-five cent handbag? Or would it make you feel smarter than the average mom?

ABOUT THE BOOK

Lorado Martin has loved junk since his grandparents took him bottle digging in the backwoods of New England when he was a boy. The search for antiques and collectibles led him to a unique hobby: digging through the estates of the newly deceased, arranging the sale of goods for the heirs, and keeping the leftovers for himself.

To make a living he builds and maintains housing for recovering addicts and along the way he’s employed a number of his clients. The men wrestle with the siren call of drugs and teach Lorado about the difficult struggle to stay clean one day at a time.

When these two worlds come together, Lorado learns that not every elderly person dies of natural causes and that some estates are sold to benefit a killer. His latest project hits close to home. A woman he’s known since childhood haunts him from a fresh grave. Her grandson, an affable addict who has fallen off the wagon, stands to inherit a considerable sum whether he deserves it or not.

Read an excerpt:

Chapter One
February 17th. Nineteen degrees on a Friday night and I was tucked in a dead lady’s bed trying to convince myself the pressure in my gut wasn’t worth risking the cold oak and then the bathroom tiles. Sound miserable? Not for me. I wasn’t thinking about the punk heir or how silly I looked in a pink comforter covered with big red roses. I was a pig, belly deep in mud. No part of me wanted to move because I’d been treasure hunting all day. Everything was sore, especially my right elbow, but I wouldn’t change a thing.
You’re probably laughing. Picturing a fat guy in a pink blanket who fancied himself a pirate. I was no swashbuckler. Unwanted treasure was my specialty. New England might not have had gold or oil, but it was packed with loot.My ancestors were either cowards or laggards. They landed on the Mayflower and walked inland far enough to get away from the Atlantic storm surge, but not so far they couldn’t run back to the boat if the Indians attacked. I couldn’t run back. I could walk if I lost a few pounds. Okay, probably not.
Every winter New Englanders dreamed of moving to Florida or South Carolina. Adventurous souls picked some island the rest of us had never heard of like Turks and Caicos. Not me. The South Coast was exactly where I belonged. New Bedford was the whaling capital of the world. Every old geezer who croaked had some scrimshaw or an oil lamp or something that had been around a few hundred years.In the old days people had a bottle dump at the back corner of the foundation. Old timers scoured the woods and picked through old homesteads that had rotted into the ground. My grandparents took me along sometimes. They built tiers of wooden shelves in their cellar, a spooky mildew-coated place that had one of the last stone foundations built in the area. They collected thousands of bottles from two-toned brown jugs to tiny blue medicine bottles. One day I found a Fairbanks & Beard soda bottle and my grandfather gave me ten bucks for it. Ten bucks for something I dug out of the ground! I was hooked.I didn’t wait for houses to fall down and their foundations to fill with leaves like my grandparents did. Yuppie kids called me even before their last parent was buried. They saw a house worth two hundred thousand, some cash, and investments. They browsed the jewelry and they were done. The rest of the stuff was just in the way. A bunch of junk that kept them from the big score. They wanted everything gone so buyers could start looking at the house.That was my domain. All the stuff they didn’t want. Some of it was worth a whole lot more than that old F & B bottle with the green glass and jagged top. My last thirty years were dedicated to learning the difference.
At forty miles per hour I could spot a barrel of Lincoln Logs in somebody’s trash and slam the brakes in time to swing around and pick them out before the garbage truck got there. Put me in an old lady’s house and I was in heaven.Everyone had some useless crap that never should have been made in the first place. Once that was gone, every single thing left was useful to somebody. The trick was matching them up. Every fork, can opener, end table, and cheesy 1970’s lamp was dying to make someone happy.In about a week I could have a house open for sale. Posted on Craigslist. In the Standard Times classifieds. A cardboard sign on every main road.

The people would fill the place shoulder to shoulder. Browsing. Smiling and sharing reminders of their childhood. Kids would pick up useless junk and laugh. An hour later an old lady would buy the very same piece. Young and old alike were struck with a combination of nostalgia and bargain fever, but every person who walked through the door had one problem. They were all trying to forget someone died in that house not long ago.
Death never bothered me much.

There’s nothing wrong with dead stuff. Road kill could make a great hat if the bumper didn’t poke a hole in the pelt. It was awful hard to mess up a raccoon’s tail with a car and those rings looked pisser dangling down the back of your neck. When you were seventeen anyway. Or maybe twenty. The raccoon didn’t care. He was gone.
People were different. They knew death was coming and didn’t want to entertain the thought any longer than necessary. Sometimes they got angry when they died. Sometimes I could feel it. That night working in Mrs. Newbury’s house I swore the old lady was watching me. And she wasn’t happy about me rummaging through her stuff.

It wasn’t like she didn’t know I was coming. My parents had known her a long time. They went to school together back when Rochester kids went to New Bedford High. Decades ago.

A year ago she’d hired me to replace her kitchen cabinets. And she walked me through the house when I was done. Showed me her treasures. Pieces of scrimshaw squirreled away in the attic. Plates I had to Google to find out what they were worth. Mrs. Newbury had some great stuff. She knew her grandson, Newb, wouldn’t appreciate any of it. Her telling me was a sign she wanted me to make sure the valuable pieces weren’t thrown away.
Sometime between showing me her house and dying, she’d gotten angry and decided to take it out on my stomach. Maybe I was sleeping on Mr. Newbury’s side of the bed, but that shouldn’t have mattered. They were together in Heaven. Or at least they should have been.

Maybe she’d changed her mind about me selling her stuff to strangers. The closet cramped with fifty years of floral dresses and skirts. Two bureaus overflowing with scarves and socks and underwear. Boxes, purses, and shoe trees pressed into every available space. The clutter slumped against the walls parted just enough to reveal the oak flooring along the weaving path Mrs. Newbury followed to the bathroom. The night light’s glow gleamed off those precious few boards and my gaze fell there as I struggled to sleep in spite of being haunted.

Old people got out of bed to pee a lot. Well, they couldn’t pee a lot, that’s why they got up so often. Anyway, the thing they feared most was a fall at night when no one could hear them and come to help. If you’d seen my big blue coffee cup you’d know I needed to get up a time or two myself. And at three hundred twenty pounds, when I fell there was damage. So I left the night light on even though I wasn’t keen on anyone seeing me wrapped in the old lady’s pink comforter. I’d have been under the pink sheets and rose-patterned blankets, too, if I wasn’t so worried about bedbugs. The look wouldn’t have changed. Only the temperature.

It’d be just like Roxie to swing by for a little action and snap a picture from the doorway. She was a whiz with the Internet. She’d email it to all our friends before I could get dressed and chase her home.
Giving her a key to job sites was a risk, but who knows what’d happen in those old neighborhoods. Junkies read the obits. They’d hack out every length of copper from the cellar if they thought no one was home. If they caught me sleeping and roughed me up, maybe she’d call the cops and save my ass. More likely she’d come by to give me a piece of hers. Sadly, three days after Valentine’s my stomach hurt so much I hoped she wouldn’t come.

My gut rumbled and I pulled the comforter tighter. Damned unromantic.
Wind whistled against the toothless exterior and found its way in through gaps around the windows. I’d pitched the kid a siding and window replacement job, but the only thing the vulture wanted was his grandmother’s place gone in a rush. Forsythia slapped the shingles and tickled the glass. The bushes could have been cut back enough in a day so you could see the street from the windows. The briars and scrub out back mowed with a brush cutter in three hours. Two hundred bucks to triple the yard and jack up the sale price at least three times that. No deal. No cash was going into grandma’s house. He wanted me to wring out every penny. Every cent he could get without lifting a finger or spending a dime.

Thankless cheapskate I worked for. Even worse when he worked for me.
A knot in my gut twisted so tight I forgot my annoyance with the kid.

The cramps forced me to wrestle out of the comforter and lumber down the path, hunched over in the dark, cradling my gut in my arms. On my second step, something jabbed the meat of my right foot. It pressed in so deeply, I hopped and crashed my right shoulder into the doorframe.
I swiped at the sole of my foot, feeling for blood, expecting a staple or a tack. A bit of broken plastic was all I found. It bounced into a corner for me to step on again later. The jostling hurt so much I thought my stomach was going to erupt horizontally. I wished I’d just kept walking and let the plastic burrow its way in. It would have been a lot less painful.

Four hobbled steps carried me through the hall into a bathroom that had been designed for tiny old people. Her toilet was wedged in a corner between the closet and the window. I leaned against the wall. Ignored the ceramic toilet paper dispenser digging into my knee. The cold air rushing through the window. Balanced there in the dark, the pain radiated lower.

Giving birth had to feel like this. It hurt too much to push. It hurt too much not to push.

The contents of my bowels willed themselves free with a liquid rush that went on far longer than should have been humanly possible. Stuff I’d eaten days ago freed itself from my body in a torrent that released so much pressure it felt as good as any orgasm.

Then my entire body seized in a cramp that folded me in half.

Women complain about cramps like it’s the end of the world. If this was what having a period was like, I’d take back every menstrual joke I ever told.

Forty minutes later I was still sitting there with the seat jammed so firmly into my backside the impression wouldn’t fade for a week. I’ll spare you the details, but stuff kept squirting out of me until I swore my intestines were inside out, hanging down there in the bowl getting a rinse.

I hate doctors almost as much as I hate health plans and the government sponsored socialist crap that forced me to pay for something I didn’t want so some lowlife could get free healthcare. My right elbow had hurt for two years before that night and I hadn’t seen a doctor yet. I’d rather wake up wincing in pain than pay some rich boy two hundred bucks to talk with me for seven minutes.
That night it hurt so badly I might have called an ambulance if I could have gotten my pants back on. Might have driven myself in if I could have taken a step away from the porcelain throne, but I was tethered by unrelenting cramps and the fear of my insides splashing all over everything if I stood up.
I clutched my gut and leaned forward, praying that somehow the pain would pass and I’d make it back to bed. Sleep would set me right. Little did I know sleep was coming in a rush. A nasty cramp hunched me right over forward and my foot slipped.

The bolt of pain in my groin erased any memory of the cramps. Blinding, mind-erasing pain that only men experience. My arms shot down to catch myself on the seat and free my crushed testicle.

The toilet seat broke free under my weight and I leapfrogged forward. The sharp edge of the vanity creased my forehead. That was the last pain I felt that night. My vision faded like an old tube TV, closing in from the outside to a point of light. As I lost consciousness I had the distinct feeling the old woman was cackling with delight.

Purchase Links:

AMAZON link
Barnes & Noble link

GoodReads link

Follow CJ’s tour here where you can enter to win a copy of Dinner At Deadman’s.

DISCLAIMER
I received a copy of this book, at no charge to me,
in exchange for my honest review.
No items that I receive
are ever sold…they are kept by me,
or given to family and/or friends.
ADDENDUM
I do not have any affiliation with Amazon.com or
Barnes & Noble. I am an IndieBound affliate.
I am providing link(s) solely for visitors
that may be interested in purchasing this Book/EBook.