The historic hotel in Boonsboro has endured war and peace, the changing of hands, and even rumored hauntings. Now it’s getting a major face-lift from the Montgomery brothers and their eccentric mother. As the architect in the family, Beckett’s social life consists mostly of talking shop over pizza and beer. But there’s another project he’s got his eye on: the girl he’s been waiting to kiss since he was sixteen.
After losing her husband and returning to her hometown, Clare Brewster soon settles into her life as the mother of three young sons while running the town’s bookstore. Though busy and with little time for romance, Clare is drawn across the street by Beckett’s transformation of the old inn, wanting to take a closer look… at both the building and the man behind it.
With the grand opening inching closer, Beckett is happy to give Clare a private tour – one room at a time, in between blueprint meetings and kindergarten pickups. It’s no first date, but these stolen moments are the beginning of something that could arouse the secret yearning that resides in Clare’s independent heart – and open the door to the extraordinary adventure of what comes next….
My Thoughts
Okay this is an author that I almost always love the books in. I borrowed the kindle edition of this trio from the library and devoured three books in three days between major amounts of sleep.
This is my work in progress list… and how I keep track of my word count.
Due to getting used to a new med I slept two days this week and spent a lot of time reading. I didn’t even try to make the daily writing goals. Still, I don’t think I did too badly.
The Deadline for Stolen skins is approaching fast. I am going to be digging in and finishing it this week.
Because I feel lazy – and I really wasn’t – I am likely to be doing more writing this week. Mental health is a bit fun like that sometimes.
I am going to be doing the art corner instead of Tuesday Tunes this week. I did some resin work and I really want to share it.
The rose is for the beauty. I need that right now. I am AWAKE. Thanks to a very vivid nightmare. I rarely remember my dreams, for which I am often thankful. I have nightmares and night terrors. I have most of my life. When I was younger I would seek out the light when I woke from one like that. Today I seek beauty and music. To me that’s growth.
The dream was nothing special until the end. In the dream my boyfriend, myself, and two of my sons were looking for some Halloween hijinks. We found a weird mall that had this throw things at a Nazi memorial thing. I was really good in my dream at finding the things that had been thrown and at throwing them. My boyfriend asked me to gather him some, so I did. The items were mostly broken metal. When I went to give the items to him I accidentally scratched a girl on her leg. Now mind you it was a shallow scratch. Still the people in my dream decided that deserved punishment. I was made to walk through a pheromone loaded substance that smelled so strong that I was ill. I found myself wanting to walk through fire in my dream to get rid of the lingering smell. I wanted to burn my own skin off. That is when I woke…feeling like I had been through HELL.
As I type out the dream it feels like my mind made more of it than there was, but the emotions and extra mental pressure cannot be described adequately. Sensory additions in dreams just add to the feelings so when I wake I feel even more in need of normality.
I don’t often submit my poetry unless it is requested. The reason is I end up getting rejection notices more often than not. It makes my thoughts about my poetry sour. I realize that everyone gets rejection notices and they don’t mean anything about my poetry but they make it harder to put the poetry out there. Part of my own mind on this is I have likely chosen the wrong one to send.
I know that they were not my readers, my readers enjoy my poetry. still rejection stinks. so I will likely either hesitate or decide to push it until I find someone that takes my work.
Cigarettes and alcohol I could smell you down the hall And know which one of you that I would get Pictures of us on the wall Fist mark from the last close call Couple hundred second chances left
You broke me down and stole my innocence You said I’d never get out but I did
You hate that you can’t control me You say that you wanna hold me You hate that I know the real you Hollow, shallow, see through You hate that I took the power It makes you feel like a coward You say that you’re gonna save me But you fucking hate me
Use me up just like a drug Held me down and called it love I thought that I had so much to lose Another fight, another fuck Another never good enough You hate me ’cause I’m better without you Without you
You hate that you can’t control me You say that you wanna hold me You hate that I know the real you Hollow, shallow, see through You hate that I took the power It makes you feel like a coward You say that you’re gonna save me But you fucking hate me
But you fucking hate me Oh
You broke me down and stole my innocence You said I’d never get out but I did, I did
You hate that you can’t control me You say that you wanna hold me You hate that I know the real you Hollow, shallow, see through You hate that I took the power It makes you feel like a coward You say that you’re gonna save me But you fucking hate me
My 2 cents –
This has been my earworm lately. it is a powerful song.
