Sam and Penelope’s story is speedily coming along and will be available this fall. Once Upon a Page is the first book in the new Shadowing London Series, which takes place at the conclusion of the Spy Series Short Stories.

Haven’t read the short stories?

Here they are in order so you can get ready!

To Be a Spy – Samuel must decide if he’ll be a spy like his father or choose his own path. Both are likely to give his mother chest pains.

To Be a Duke – Alec faces the realization that one day he will be duke.

To Be a Lady – Baby Jane is all grown up and given a mission of her own. A mission she fears she may not be able to complete.

To Be a Debutante – We meet Lady Emily Black, Alec and Sarah’s eldest daughter, and well, you’re just not going to like her.

Each short story is only 99 cents, so download them all today and get ready for Once Upon a Page coming this fall.

Let’s start with the lady, because she arrived first.

The hubby and I were married in 2011. We bought a house in August 2012. I gave my husband a task. I said, I want a dog by Christmas. Go. It was really that simple, because my husband is the shopper. He is good at finding things, and he’s good at finding the one that’s right for us.

We knew we wanted a Basset hound. I had had many dogs throughout my life, but a Basset hound found us. It was late on 4th of July, and we were walking back from the river when a tinkling noise came out of the darkness, attached to the romping Basset hound it belonged to. The poor guy had gotten spooked from the fireworks and broke out of his yard. His name was Cory, and he sauntered up to us, plopped his rolly butt down at our feet, and proceeded to love us eternally. We knew a Basset was the right dog from that moment on.

So in the fall of 2012, my husband went in search of a Basset hound. Turns out, Basset puppies are hard to get. Have you seen a Basset puppy? I mean seriously. There is nothing cuter on the PLANET. We could probably solve all of the world’s problems just by handing out Basset puppies. But perhaps that’s why there’s so many problems. Basset puppies are very hard to find.

In fact, in the hubby’s search of the entire New England area, he only found one. This one.

He sent me this photo while I was at work. It was a Tuesday afternoon in October, and the text said, we’re going to pick her up on Saturday. She’s in New York.

I looked at the photo, and I said, Her name is Lady Josephine, and we will call her Josie. We went and picked her up, and that was that. She was our baby girl from the moment she ran up to me and put a single paw on my knee, her big eyes searching my face as if to say, are you my mom?

It turns out I was her mom, whether she liked it or not, because her puppyhood from that moment on would become the adventure no one expected. We took her to Western New York to meet her grandpa. Only when we got there, we found Grandpa had to have his gallbladder removed, and the lady spent an odd week in the car in Erie, PA, encountering a swarm of dead fish, loud, smelly traffic, and a lot of walks around a hospital park. She was praised when she peed on the hotel bathroom floor. Remember she was a puppy. Potty training was still a new thing to her, and when she went on the tile of the hotel bathroom floor instead of the carpet, she was the best puppy in the world! She didn’t care. She just wanted a carrot.

It didn’t get much more normal after that. There was a big scary yard, and a dog hidden behind a fence that parked at her when she peed. So she just didn’t pee. That was until she found her voice. That other dog doesn’t bother her anymore. But the scary yard and the dog who barked at her when she peed meant she didn’t pee anywhere except one spot in her yard. It was a lot of walking and a lot of hot dogs that finally got her comfortable peeing outside of that one spot.

And then there was puppy school. In case you haven’t figured it out, the lady is very food driven. School was her jam, man. There was so much food! And all she had to do was what I told her to do, and she’d get hot dog and cheese! School was the best thing ever. She skipped puppy school because she was too smart. Went right into Adult 2. She fell asleep during the final exam and still passed. So then it was on to Canine Good Citizen training. She was the queen of the school and pranced around with all of her neat tricks.

Until something terrible happened.

The lady was in a car accident with my mother. She was in the front seat, and that likely saved her from a lot of trauma. My mother was rear-ended, and the lady fell off the seat. The vet explained that she wouldn’t understand that that is not supposed to happen. She now thinks that can happen at anytime. The lady became anxious. Terribly anxious. She was afraid of the remote control, she was afraid of any noise. She was terrified of the car. We had to give her a tranquilizer if we had to go anywhere long distance. She was no longer the confident, demanding puppy she had been. She was broken.

We talked to the trainer. We talked to the vet. We talked to the breeder. Everyone said the same thing.

Get another dog.

I said no. I actually said hell no. We just finished potty training this one. We just finished puppy school. We had already done all this work, and she had been so perfect. She largely was still perfect. But the anxiety. The anxiety broke this mommy’s heart. I knew what she had been like. The bossy, sassy princess of the house. And now she hid in fear.

So I made the call. I called the breeder and said we’re looking for another puppy to help our lady. The breeder said, we don’t have any puppies but…

We have this guy.

Runner was the lady’s actual brother. From the same litter. He’d led the life of a show dog while the lady had been busy being a pampered princess. I had a lot of weird emotions all at once. I was worried about bringing a second full-grown dog into the mix. Would his personality fit with our lady’s? Was he a good boy? (The lady was perfect, and we were not going to mess that up.) Would he like us?

But the lady was too frightened, and my heart was too broken to say no. We went and picked up the dude in Rhode Island after a field trial. And we brought him home, and our lives would never be the same.

The first week he was here he ate a rock and had to have major surgery. MAJOR. They opened him up from chest to boy parts to find the rock that had wedged in his intestine. We got to keep the rock. The lady realized this new guy was in trouble. She realized he was in pain. And suddenly, magically, unbelievably…

Lady Barks-a-lot was back!

It was like someone had flicked a switch, and the lady realized she was really a bad ass. She was strong and confident and smart and no one – NO ONE- was going to mess with her brother while he was hurt. It was a long, slow recovery for the captain because he kept peeing on his incision. The vet recommended slow, long walks to get him moving.

One night we were out in the hood, and a Great Dane broke out of his yard. (I can’t make this stuff up.) A big, scary Great Dane that charged at us, barking and yapping. I need to point out here that it was a GREAT DANE. The lady and the captain are like six inches tall. This was a GREAT DANE. The captain was still wrapped in a bandage from his incision, and the lady was having none of it. She attacked. I mean that literally.  She went full throttle on this Great Dane, and the poor dane didn’t know what hit him. I was holding the lady’s leash, and of course, I should have pulled her off. I should have made her stop. But I was too stunned. This dog who only weeks before was afraid of the remote control was suddenly ripping into a Great Dane. Finally, I realized what was happening and pulled her off, but by then the Great Dane had relented and his owner had come to get him.

The lady was still riled as we walked away, and the captain? The captain turned around and went woof. (Subtext: yeah, don’t mess with me or my sister will get you!)

And so began the adventures of Lady Barks-a-lot and Captain Licky.

I didn’t think I could love another dog the way I love the lady. Especially one that I hadn’t raised myself. But let me assure you. If you ever meet the captain, you will understand. Runner is a dog that dares you not to love him. He’s not perfect. Far from it. He’s caused this momma a lot of grief and many tears. But if that Great Dane ever shows up again, you’d better believe I’m going to give him hell. The captain is the goofiest part of our family. He’s a lover. He’s a cuddle bug. He’s a Basset hound.

We got him to save the lady. But he really saved us all.

And that is the story of a lady and her captain.

Download your copy from Audible or iTunes.

Visit the book page for more format options.

Want to know more about what it’s like to produce an audiobook? Check out my visit to Alicia Dean’s blog where I talk about finding Rachael and producing the Spy Series for audio.

To Save a Viscount: Book Four of the Spy Series

I know, some people do still read paperbacks, and more, some readers collect them.  So I’m happy to report you can now get your copy of To Save a Viscount in trade paperback.

From the back cover…

When an assassin threatens England’s spy network, Lady Margaret Folton must find the killer before it’s too late. Hardened from being forced to witness the murder of her British spy parents by French revolutionists, Margaret approaches this mission like any other, with steely determination and a resolute focus on the necessary outcome at the cost of all else.

Commodore John Lynwood, newly returned from the Mediterranean, finds himself granted the title of viscount in honor of his service during the war. Plagued with a string of good luck throughout his life, the title serves as another reminder that Jack has done nothing to earn the glory and prestige that comes with his position, and he’ll be damned if he’ll enjoy such an honor.

But when Jack is accidentally granted a title meant to be used as bait to lure the assassin into the War Office’s trap, Margaret must face the tragedy of her past and decide which is more important: the assignment or love?

For more buying options, visit the book’s page.

Happy reading!

Get your copy today from Audible or iTunes.

About To Be a Spy…

Samuel Black must make a decision: to be a spy like his father or follow his heart.

Either is likely to give his mother chest pains.

For Samuel is no longer a lad with the ambitious and noble wish of being a lamplighter to keep the seedy streets of London safe. About to embark on university, his mind stirs with the thoughts of creating a policing force in London to safeguard its citizens. Held back by his family’s legacy as spies, Samuel does not make his ideas known.

But when he stops a would-be purse-snatcher, his path unexpectedly veers into that of one Miss Penelope Paiget, and suddenly, Samuel must make a choice.

To Be a Spy picks up seven years after the conclusion of the Spy Series, a historical romantic suspense series following the adventures of a family of spies during the Napoleonic Wars.

Friday, 25 May 1900

These are real trees. They grow in the ground and sway in the air. They don’t grow out of cobblestone and sway in the smog. They chose to grow here. They were not placed here.
My window overlooks them at the back of the house, and I stand and watch them talking to one another. One will dip to whisper in the ear of another while another moves away, repulsed by what he’s heard. I wonder what they’re talking about.
“Supper is at five o’clock. I’m making meatloaf and potato salad, Miss Bell.”
The crooked woman might have smiled at me, but she looks too old and too worn to smile at anyone.
“Thank you, Mrs. Utz.”
She nods and closes the door behind her.
The trees are still talking when I turn back to them, but their conversation has lost its appeal. The lace of the curtains makes patterns of sunlight on the floor. I walk over to my carpetbag, destroying the neat rows of spotted light. One of my bags has not made it up and neither has my pelisse. They must still be in the foyer, but I don’t want to go down and get them. The bed looks smooth and soft. The quilt rests gently across the bed, and I don’t want to wrinkle it. I sit in the chair by the window.
Down in the yard I see two men, one long and thin, the other more thick and slightly shorter. They are working on a motorcar. What kind I cannot say. The shadow of the carriage house blots out the rear end and most of the body. It’s a pleasant green though, and the brass headlamps glint in the sun. The windowpane stops their conversation from reaching me. I’m too tired to unlock the glass and lift the panel. I pretend I know what they are saying.
I have started the chair rocking, and my eyes are no longer open. I remember how he did not touch me after I told him.

He sits there as I tell him.
The kitchen is warm and smells like soap. My hands smell of sulfur from the well water. I have just washed our plates. I do not know how to cook.
He thanks me for the soufflé and rolls.
I say he is welcomed.
I tell him again.
He thanks me for the nice fire.
I don’t know how to make a fire.
He tells me of the chores that need to be done. The fence in the outer pasture is down again. Coyotes maybe.
I nod in understanding.
He is wearing the charcoal pinstripe suit he wore to the station.
What is a coyote?
Will I milk the cows?
Of course, I shall.
Good. He stands up.
I tell him again, and he nods that he’s heard me.
How do you milk a cow?
I help him with his coat and hat.
He leaves the kitchen as I add wood to my fire.

I wake up, and my hand settles across my stomach. Something was wrong in the dream. He had been wearing a blue suit when I had first told him.
I feel better now, strong enough to go downstairs and bring up my pelisse and bag. I get up and lift the window to hear the men in the yard. It doesn’t help for the man is speaking German, and I don’t know what he’s saying. He’s angry at the motorcar.
The long man straightens and rubs the top of his head where his thinning hair tickles his scalp in the wind. He turns around as if he knows that I’m standing here. He sees me. He nods but does not call out. He’s of society then. The other man is not. He is still angry at the motorcar and mostly himself.
There’s water in the ewer on the dry sink, and I pour it in the bowl. The leaves etched into the porcelain fracture with the water lying over them. I splash my face and neck, dabbing it with a towel. The leaves are still broken when I hang the towel on the rod above the basin.
I look in the mirror. I don’t know why. I know what I’m going to see. Why do I still think someone else will look back at me? Because sometimes someone else does. I don’t like her. I don’t like the fear I see in her. I lock her in the closet and swallow the key.
The breeze from the window moves the hair against my neck. I get goose bumps and look around. I feel him watching me, but I know he’s not here.
I go back to my carpetbag on the floor by the bed. I remember my other bag has not made it up. I feel like I could get it now. I take my hairbrush from the bag and go back to the mirror. I look at myself as I smooth the strands into the knot.
You cannot tell just by looking at me.
My eyes are the same brown and my lips the same pink. My nose is still straight and small. My cheeks are still smooth and round. My jaw is still sharp, and my chin is still pointed. My neck is still long and too white.
You cannot tell. Why do I still squirm when someone looks at me too long?
The brush slips from my fingers and hits the wood of the floor. I bend to retrieve it but stop. I am afraid to look under the bed. There may be a monster lurking there.

1. I prefer potato chips with my ice cream.  Thank you, Ben & Jerry’s, for realizing this is a thing.
2. All I ever wanted to be when I grew up was Indiana Jones.  Check out the dedication to my first book, Son of a Duke, if you don’t believe me.  It made college seem really pointless.
3. I’m afraid of stairs and swamps.  Because of a muscle deficiency in my right eye, I don’t have depth perception.  Every time I walk down a flight of stairs, I take my life into my hands.  And swamps.  Really?  Do I need to explain that one.  Hello, totally creepy.
4. I learned all of the words to Barenaked Ladies’ “One Week” when it first came out, and I can still sing all the words today.  And yes, I still don’t have any friends.
5. I first saw Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany’s on Thanksgiving Day back in the 90s.  And I’ve adored her ever since.
   

So there you go.  Those are really the important things to know about me.   Stay tuned for this week’s newsletter: cover reveal for Inevitably a Duchess as well as the release date.  Eek!  I’m so excited!