Maddie James, Romance Author Web site

2010-04-02T21:05:00.048-04:00

Welcome to the world of romance author Maddie James

Hello! So glad you stopped by.

I'm Maddie, and I write romance. Over the years, I've written quite a bit of it, as you'll see if you poke around long enough on my Web site. Like romantic suspense? Got you covered. Time-travel? That, too. Contemporary? Oh, a bunch of those. What about a cowboy? Pirate? Businessman? Werewolf? Alpha hero? Yes, yes, yes. All there. Got 'em.

A Maddie James book can be of many different romance sub-genres but they all have one thing in common -- they are all romance with a capital HEA -- they all have a happily-ever-after ending. I hope you find one or two that suit your fancy.

Not interested in chasing the happily-ever-after? Well, don't go away, because I can point you in a couple of other directions. Like things a little hotter between the sheets? Check out my sexy little side-kick, Mia Jae. Looking for something a little more mainstream? Watch for a Madeleine James novel coming in 2013.

Whatever your pleasure, I hope you can find a satisfying read here.

All the best,
Maddie

p.s. If you are looking for Social Media info, my Twitter page, Facebook, and the like, click on the Blog/Social tab above and you'll find all of those kinds of things there. I hope to connect with you!

Now Available! Murder on the Mountain

2010-03-30T00:07:00.000-04:00

Murder on the Mountain

A Ladies of Legend Romantic Suspense Novel

I'm so pleased to be able to have Murder on the Mountain re-released in all digital formats and available at your favorite retailers!

You can now find this story at:

TMPress Bookstore . Amazon Kindle . Barnes and Noble Nook . Smashwords . All Romance Ebooks . Bookstrand

Only $1.99!

Kate Carpenter thinks her Tennessee State trooper husband is dead.

ATF Agent Michael Lehman knows he is not.

When Michael goes undercover into Kate's elementary classroom for a few weeks, posed as a school drug cop, his mission is to find out what Kate knows about her husband's supposed death, and to determine if she has any involvement in hiding away the AWOL trooper turned drug runner.His mission is to get answers. Get into her life. And not into her panties.But somehow things go haywire....

Also New! (and something different)

2010-03-08T17:13:00.001-05:00

Family Stories, Family Recipes is a cookbook that combines a love of food, stories, and family in one package. Throughout time, families have brought a rich culture of stories and favorite foods to the table. Part cookbook, part real-life family anecdotes, Family Stories, Family Recipes is a book to warm both your tummy and your heart.

Now available exclusively at Amazon -- Kindle Format $0.99

Now in Print!

Coming Next!

2010-02-16T00:18:00.000-05:00

Broken
Western Contemporary Romance Novel

Coming Spring, 2012

Rodeo took him from her once. Will it take him again?

It’s been a decade since Garth Nash left the Triple R ranch to become a bull riding rodeo star. Now he’s back home to pay his final respects to the man he’d loved like a father, and to console the pesky tomboy he'd loved like a little sister--and had left behind, heartbroken.

But there’s nothing pesky or boyish about Amarilla Ray now. She’s a gorgeous, gutsy barrel-racing cowgirl who knows exactly what she wants--to preserve the family ranch by winning big at the Cowgirl Classic. With Garth's help, she might be able to pull it off, but at what risk? She'd loved Garth like a big brother all those years ago but today, her feelings for him are taking turns in a whole new direction...

Rodeo took him from her once. She knows he's bound to leave again. And when that happens, will he once more leave her...broken?

Coming Next!

2010-02-05T03:51:00.003-05:00

Home to Wind Ridge
A Novel

Coming Spring, 2012

When Rebecca McCauley left her Kentucky home to pursue a degree in art, she never dreamed she'd return ten years later to raise her child in the same rural atmosphere. Living in New York with a man who controls every aspect of her being, she escapes him and her high-pressure magazine career to settle into a life of solitude in the country on the family farm--Wind Ridge--with little knowledge of sullen neighbor and fox hunter, Kaulin Kramer, who has settled into the horse farm on the other side of the stone fence.

As a child, Kaulin was passionate about animals, especially his horses and dogs, and dreamed of one day becoming a veterinarian. His father, a ruthless man with no time for children or family, lived and breathed Kramer Bloodstock, the family business. The summer before vet school, Kaulin’s father dies, changing the rules. Kaulin is expected to take over the agency, and support his mother and sisters in the Kentucky Bluegrass lifestyle to which they are accustomed. As much as he hates it, he does so, and over the years loses not only the dream, but himself, turning into a mirror image of the one man he didn’t want to be--his father.

Let me sign your Kindle books!

2010-02-03T15:29:00.004-05:00

Crazy For You

2010-01-12T22:07:00.000-05:00

Crazy For You
Amazon Bestseller in Contemporary Romance

Price: $0.99
Length: Novel

Available from: Turquoise Morning Press Bookstore
Smashwords . Nook . Kindle . All Romance Ebooks . Bookstrand

Who knew getting naked could be so funny?
"...a wacky comedy with humorous scenes, good character development and snappy dialogue." --RT Book Reviews

She’s Tofu

A lovely nineties-style flower child, Tasha Smith enjoys her laid-back life at the shop where she sells organic fruits and vegetables, even though lately she’s been in a funk over a broken engagement. Determined to shake her blues, she heads down to a resort in sunny Jamaica, and along the way, hooks up with a most unlikely companion—a workaholic salesman who has no idea how sexy he looks in his Brooks Brothers suit!

He’s Beefsteak

Andrew Jacob Powel III reluctantly heads to Jamaica after winning the trip for high salesman of the month. He figures while there, he’ll handout business cards and make some new connections. But when he connects with Tasha, his professional poise begins a slow unraveling. She is at turns enchanting and exasperating—and adorably determined to tease him out of his conservative shell, not to mention that Brooks Brothers suit.

Even as a sultry passion takes them both by surprise, Andrew and Tasha know they’ll have to return to their very different lives—but their hearts keep telling them they belong together. And hearts never lie…

Falling for Grace

2009-12-01T17:22:00.002-05:00

Falling for Grace
A Contemporary Romantic Comedy Novel

Digital eBook - $2.99
Amazon Print - $10.99

B&N Nookbook . Kindle

...heartwarming and tender, this novel will brighten many dreary afternoons in small town America. James shows special talent for traditional romance. Expect more from this author. Affaire de Coeur, 4 stars

An All Romance eBook Best Seller!

Gracie Hart, the owner of a successful, sophisticated boutique called Romantically Yours, is known as the local Diva of Romance. Who could have guessed that having once loved and lost, she has no intention of ever falling in love again, no matter how loudly her biological clock keeps ticking? Until, that is, her new tenants, Carson Price and his six-year-old daughter Izzie, arrive on the scene and proceed to wreak havoc in her life—and her heart!

Excerpt:

This had all the makings of a very bad idea....

“Please let this work out,” she whispered and sent up a small prayer. “I need this to work out.”

Stopping briefly in front of the door, Gracie inhaled deep then exhaled long, twisted the dead-bolt, and opened the door fully. She extended her hand without even really looking. “Mr. Price, I assume?”
Then she did look. Up. And up some more. Her eyes met the most unbelievable sea-blue eyes she’d ever seen. Finally something touched her palm.

“Oh!” She dragged her gaze away from his and glanced downward to her hand, now in his. His hand was warm, his handshake firm.

“Grace Hart?”

“Oh, yes.” She looked back into his face. “Yes, I’m Grace Hart. Mr. Price?”

He nodded and she took in more of his features. Dark brown hair, chiseled, high cheekbones, and those eyes....

“Yes,” he answered. He stepped inside and she closed the door behind her, then felt it push open again against her rear.

“Forget something, Dad?”

Carson Price turned and so did Gracie. An imp of a child stood in the doorway, staring past her. The little girl’s head held a mass of light brown curls which, if left loose, would most likely tumble halfway down her back. Oh my, what she would have given, as a young girl, for curls like that. Oddly enough though, this child’s locks were caught up in a dusty, Louisville Cardinals baseball cap, which contrasted sharply with the Sunday-best frill she wore.

Gracie bent slightly to look the girl more closely in the face. “Well,” she finally said, pushing out her hand, “I’m Grace. What’s your name?”

“I’m Iz—”

Carson Price bolted forward. “Isabella,” he returned, grasping the child’s hand. “Ready?” He snatched the ball cap off his Isabella’s head. Gracie registered a sharp glance of annoyance from the child and the stern, warning stare back from the parent as he quickly stuffed the ball cap into the back pocket of his khaki pants. “We’ll take a look at the shop first, then the apartment,” she continued.

“That’s fine,” Carson Price replied.

“Unless, of course, you’d rather wait until your wife.”

He shook his head. “No wife, just us.”

Gracie nodded. “Oh. Well, right this way then.” She extended a hand toward the front door.

Carson Price led the way, daughter in tow, and Gracie found herself watching those nicely fitting khaki’s from the rear until he opened the door and held it for her to pass through.

No wife. This wasn’t a good sign.

No indeedy.

She decided right then and there, that renting to Carson Price was a bad idea.

A very bad idea.

Freshly Dead - the Dead Guys Still Want It series

2009-12-01T16:27:00.000-05:00

Freshly Dead
Book One, the Dead Guys Still Want It series

Amazon Top 100 Bestseller in Ghosts!

Now Available at Amazon Kindle Bookstore - $0.99!

Three sisters, Southern-fried born and bred, and the ~~men~~ ghosts who love them.

All Mitzi Winston wants is enough money to pay this month’s mortgage payment. That’s the only reason she even considers the phone sex job. Ever since her husband’s disappearance, she’s held things together quite nicely—until recently. And now, well, she just needs the money.

So, she bites the bullet and goes for the interview, only to find that the phone sex job isn’t real and she’s too late—not for the interview, but to save her husband. For there he is, dead on the floor, a bullet to the back of the head. To make matters worse, his ghost is hovering around and chiding her for being late. Not to mention he’s horny as hell and trying to cop a feel.

Which only begs the question, “Do dead men still want it?”

Booksigning at The Country Heart

2009-11-27T00:29:00.000-05:00

Book Signing Poster 2 (1)

Coming Soon

2009-11-07T07:26:00.033-05:00

Coming in 2012

Coming in 2013

Amazon

2009-09-03T15:48:00.006-04:00

Smashwords

2009-09-03T15:45:00.002-04:00

Turquoise Morning Press Books

2009-09-03T15:34:00.004-04:00

My $0.99 Books!

2009-07-15T07:05:00.001-04:00

Got a dollar? Get a book!

Here is a list of my ebooks priced at $0.99.

Books are available at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Smashwords, All Romance Ebooks, Bookstrand, and other online retailers

(clicking the cover will take you to book description at Amazon)

Romancing the Scone, Chapter 1

2009-06-17T21:37:00.001-04:00

Romancing the Scone, Chapter 1

Want to read the rest? Romancing the Scone is now available for purchase at Resplendence Publishing and for your Amazon Kindle.

Falling for Grace

2009-04-12T14:55:00.004-04:00

Falling for Grace
by Maddie James
(this title was previously published in 2000 by Kensington Books, now available for Kindle)

Blurb:

She wasn't looking for love...

The owner of a successful, sophisticated boutique called Romantically Yours, Gracie Hart's nickname is the Diva of Romance. Who could have guessed that having once loved and lost, she has no intention of ever falling in love again, no matter how loudly her biological clock keeps ticking? Until, that is, her new tenants, Carson Price and his six-year-old daughter Izzie, arrive on the scene and proceed to wreak havoc in her life--and her heart!

...but it found her anyway!

Excerpt:

“Please let this work out,” she whispered and sent up a small prayer. “I need this to work out.”

Stopping briefly in front of the door, Gracie inhaled deep then exhaled long, twisted the dead-bolt, and opened the door fully.

She extended her hand without even really looking. “Mr. Price, I assume?”

Then she did look. Up. And up some more. My, he was a tall man. She gulped. He had to be tall for her to look up to him. She was nearly five foot ten, herself. Her mouth and lips went incredibly dry.

Her eyes met the most unbelievable sea-blue eyes she’d ever seen. Finally she felt something touch her palm.

“Oh!” She dragged her gaze away from his and glanced downward to her hand, now in his. His hand was warm, his handshake firm.

“Grace Hart?”

“Oh, yes.” She looked back into his face. “Yes, I’m Grace Hart. Mr. Price?”

He nodded and she took in more of his features. Dark brown hair, chiseled, high cheekbones, and those eyes...

“Yes,” he answered.

“Please come in,” she returned politely.

He stepped inside and she closed the door behind her, then felt it push open again against her rear.

“Forget something, Dad?”

Carson Price turned and so did Gracie. An imp of a child stood in the doorway, staring past her. Gracie guessed her to be about six or seven years of age. There was a frown on her face as she eyed her father, the doorway still framing her. Slowly, she crossed her arms over her chest and tilted her chin to look at Carson, a small look of defiance on her face. Her right foot repeatedly tapped the floor.

Gracie was not quite sure what to make of the child. She glanced quickly to Carson, who returned a hesitant smile, then to the child.

The little girl’s head held a mass of light brown curls which, if left loose, would most likely tumble halfway down her back, Gracie thought. Oh my, what she would have given, as a young girl, for curls like that. Oddly enough though, this child’s locks were caught up in a dusty, Louisville Cardinals baseball cap, which contrasted sharply with the Sunday-best frill she wore.

Gracie bent slightly to look the girl more closely in the face. “Well,” she finally said, pushing out her hand, “I’m Grace. What’s your name?”

“I’m Iz—”

Carson Price bolted forward. “Isabella,” he returned, grasping the child’s hand.

Gracie stood tall again and looked Carson in the eyes. It was nice looking directly into a man’s eyes and not looking down at him for once. “What a beautiful name.”

“Thank you. Isabella is my daughter. There was no school today. I hope you don’t mind. My babysitter is out of town.”

Gracie shook her head. “Oh, my no. It’s not a problem.”

She dismissed the issue of the child for a moment, then headed for the cash register. “Just give me a second to grab the keys and I’ll take you next door.”

An awkward silence filled the shop as Grace fumbled with the cash register drawer, her thoughts nowhere near where they should be.

Carson Price was not the kind of man she expected. No indeedy. He was much too—

No, she refused to think about it. After all, the man had a child. Most likely there was a wife in the picture somewhere.

Gracie sighed deeply.

With that thought, she retrieved the key from the secret drawer inside the old cash register. Gracie glanced up to see Carson crouched down on eye-level with the child, faint mutterings of conversation going on between father and daughter.

“Ready?” She stepped up behind them and Carson rose quickly to his feet, snatching the ball cap off his Isabella’s head on his ascent. Gracie registered a sharp glance of annoyance from the child and the stern, warning stare back from the parent as he quickly stuffed the ball cap into the back pocket of his khaki pants. “We’ll take a look at the shop first, then the apartment,” she continued.

“That’s fine,” Carson Price replied.

“Unless, of course, you’d rather wait until your wife could come to look at the apartment.”

He shook his head. “No wife, just us.”

Gracie nodded. “Oh. Well, right this way then.” She extended a hand toward the front door.

Carson Price led the way, daughter in tow, and Gracie found herself watching those nicely fitting khaki’s from the rear until he opened the door and held it for her to pass through.

No wife. This wasn’t a good sign.

No indeedy.

There was a brief tingle as she brushed passed him and Gracie wondered from just where that tingle sprang. She’d not felt anything like that in—oh, in quite some time. Years, if she cared to admit it.

And she didn’t want to admit it.

She decided right then and there, that renting to Carson Price was probably a bad idea. A very bad idea.

He was much too handsome and much too charismatic for her own good. He had an adorable little child. And no wife.

Two strikes against Mr. Carson Price.

No. Strikes two, three, and four.

Falling for Grace is now available for Kindle! Coming soon in print.

Red: A Seduction Tale

2009-04-02T21:04:00.002-04:00

Red: A Seduction Tale

The Blurb:

Garnet Boudreaux is going home. Not back to her nice little apartment in New York City, but to her childhood home in the bayou. She doesn’t want to go, and isn’t certain what will be waiting for her when she arrives. But standing there in the voodoo shop on Bourbon Street, in the middle of one helluva party, she’s told by Madame Madeleine Dupuis that she has no choice. She presses two pouches into Garnet’s hands, wraps a red cape around her, and tells her she must go—and go now—to see to her grandmother.

Max LeBlanc spies the lovely red-head across the street and knows in a heartbeat she is the one. A rougarou always knows when he’s met his mate. Some may call him a lycanthrope, a werewolf if you will, but in Cajun bayou lands he’s known simply as The Rougarou. He’d waited several hundred years for this moment, and for her. There is nothing left for him to do, but mark her and claim her as his mate. Soon.

Excerpt:

The French Quarter, New Orleans, 10:39 p.m.

“Come closer, Red,” he rasped. “I want that burning-hot body next to mine.” The wiry stranger threaded his hot fingers through her hair at the nape, and his steamy breath snaked around her neck.

A carnival spun in Garnet Boudreaux’s head, and for once, she did not want to get off the ride. Was she drunk? Yes, somewhat. But it was okay, she was with her girlfriends, and they watched out for each other.

Were they watching his hands glide over her ass, too?

Hell, did she care?

Eyes the color of dark honey with flecks of gold pierced hers and held as he pressed closer. His lips scraped over her cheek, sending a shudder of want from the curls on her auburn head straight down to her scarlet toenails. Neon swirled as he led her out the door of the Cat’s Meow, spilling into Bourbon Street’s static currents, taking the lead as they dirty-danced their way into the crowd.

“My friends…” she breathed, wincing as he nipped her neck, his teeth clipping at the tender skin beneath her ear lobe.

“Back in the bar,” he growled.

Oh Damn. She shouldn’t leave Tiana and Kathleen behind. They needed her. Didn’t they?

Or did she need them?

Like a cat lapping at milk, his tongue laved her neck to cheek. “Give me your tongue,” he commanded. His hands rested under her armpits, cradling the sides of her breasts, thumbing her nipples through the red satin dressed she’d borrowed for this decadent Mardi Gras-type party on Bourbon her company insisted they attend.

Her mask. Had she lost it?

She glanced behind her. He caught her chin between his fingers and forcefully turned her face back toward his.

“Me. I’m the one you are with. Forget the others.”

Her brain said no. The tingles racing up her spine and the heat gathering in her panties cried yes.

Yes.

His hips gyrated against hers and his dance swept her into a spiral of lights and hands and lips and skin on skin. He dipped his tongue deep into her cleavage and she resisted the urge to clasp his head against her chest and keep him there. He was hard against her abdomen.

Ready.

Waiting.

Primal.

Had he growled?

***

CATEGORY: Contemporary, Paranormal, Erotic
HEAT LEVEL: Garnet
Length: Short Story
FORMAT: E-BOOK

Buy Link

Newsletter Archives

2009-04-02T21:01:00.001-04:00

asdfdsfdas

Alter Egos

2009-04-02T21:01:00.000-04:00

Maddie sometimes masquerades as other characters. Who knew?

Erotica Author, Mia Jae

Non-fiction Author, Kim Jacobs

Book Trailers

2009-04-02T21:00:00.002-04:00

The Legend of Blackbeard's Chalice Trilogy

Blue

maddie james | MySpace Video

Books by Maddie James

maddie james | MySpace Video

Ladies Of Legend Video

Memories By Bloom | MySpace Video

Books by Maddie James

2009-04-02T21:00:00.001-04:00

The Ladies of Legend Series

www.legendtennessee.com

The Matchmaking Chef Series

www.suziecooks.com

The Legend of Blackbeard's Chalice Series/Time-travel

www.legendofblackbeardschalice.com

Romantic Suspense

Romantic Suspense/Futuristic

Paranormal/Werewolf

Complete book list

Social Networking

2009-04-02T21:00:00.000-04:00

Maddie James, Romance Novelist

Promote Your Page Too

Complete Book List

2009-04-01T23:49:00.001-04:00

Complete List of Maddie James Titles

Bio

2009-04-01T22:15:00.002-04:00

Romance novelist Maddie James bounces between contemporary, historical, and paranormal worlds, as she pens stories within, and frequently crossing, a variety of romantic genres. She's landed on a few bestseller lists and gathered an award or two throughout her career.

With 30+ titles in print, under three pen names, she feels fortunate to spend her days working with some of the quirkiest characters around—those in her head, and in her life. She lives quietly with her muses, Calliope and Clio, who most days masquerade as four-legged furry creatures. She often laments that her cats have become her children, and she has become her mother. (Which as it turns out, is a wonderful thing! )

Such is life. And life, such fodder for books. Que sera, sera.

Among her work, she pens the popular Matchmaking Chef series and is a co-author for Ladies of Legend books.To learn more about The Matchmaking Chef series, visit www.suziecooks.com, or the Ladies of Legend books, visit www.legendtennessee.com.

She also owns a little publishing house called Turquoise Morning Press. Come by and visit, won't you?

Blog

2009-01-27T19:05:00.000-05:00

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2009-01-26T01:19:00.001-05:00

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2009-01-26T00:56:00.004-05:00

Dead Guys Still Want It

2009-01-25T22:45:00.003-05:00

Freshly Dead

All Mitzi Winston wants is enough money to pay this month’s mortgage payment. That’s the only reason she even considers the phone sex job. Ever since her husband’s disappearance, she’s held things together quite nicely—until recently. And now, well, she just needs the money.

So, she bites the bullet and goes for the interview, only to find that the phone sex job isn’t real and she’s too late—not for the interview, but to save her husband. For there he is, dead on the floor, a bullet to the back of the head. To make matters worse, his ghost is hovering around and chiding her for being late. Not to mention he’s horny as hell and trying to cop a feel.

Which only begs the question, “Do dead guys still want it?”

Three sisters, Southern-fried born and bred, and the ~~men~~ ghosts who love them…

Excerpts and covers coming soon!

Novella 1: Freshly Dead

Novella 2: Seriously Dead

Novella 3: Gratefully Dead

matchmaking chef (2)

2008-06-13T20:17:00.000-04:00

FEATURED BOOK

2000-12-01T07:31:00.000-05:00

Bed, Breakfast and You
A Ladies of Legend Novella

Bed, Breakfast and You finally gets its own ebook!

Originally published in the print and ebook anthology, Ladies of Legend: Finding Home, this novella, along with the other three novellas in the book will soon be available as stand-alone ebooks, published by Turquoise Morning Press.

The revised Finding Home novel, will release the following month, in March, 2011.

The premise: Suzie Schul finds home only when the "fling" she had many months earlier shows up on her B&B doorstep with a plan. Thing is, will his plan give her the happy ever after she's been searching for? Or, will it tear apart her business and her happy little existence in Legend, Tennessee?

Here's an excerpt from the book:

What in the world did I forget?

Flour.

Eggs.

Cinnamon and nutmeg.

Sugar.

Blueberries.

Butter.

One by one Suzie Schul lifted the items out of her cotton grocery bags and placed them on her kitchen island. She’d forgotten something. What was it?

Darn it. Why hadn’t she made a list? She always made a list. Why didn’t she make a list today? Why not this time?

Seriously, she had to get over this bad habit lately of second-guessing herself. Mentally she ticked off the recipe items needed for her famous Legend Mountain Blueberry Muffins. Flour, check. Eggs, check. Spices, check and check. Sugar, check. Fresh blueberries, check.

Butter, check.

Damn. Milk.

She’d forgotten the stupid milk.

And she was bone-dry out. She frowned in disappointment. Tonight was the night she wanted to perfect the recipe for her new cookbook—At Your Leisure: Recipes of Legend’s Landing Bed and Breakfast. Thinking about the new title her editor had just approved, she smiled but then immediately frowned as she glanced toward the groceries on her kitchen counter.

It wasn’t that the grocery store was that far away, or that it would take her hours to go back and get it. It was, however, the simple fact that getting back into the car, driving the ten minutes to the local Piggly Wiggly, working her way to the very back corner, grabbing the milk, and making her way to the checkout aisle would be another damned exhausting trip down memory lane. One she didn’t want to take again today. She’d already been there an hour or so ago, much to her chagrin.

Their voices still nagged at her….

“Suzie, honey, so sorry to hear about...Cliff.” Cluck, cluck. Old Mrs. Wilson. Her dementia had set in about a year ago and she recalled everything that happened exactly one year ago, over and over again. Whenever she saw Suzie, all the genteel older woman ever thought about was how Cliff had left her.

Poor, poor Suzie.

Pat-pat on her hand. “You feeling better, dearie? You look a bit peak-ed.” Mr. Wilson moved his hand up her arm. Suzie knew better than to turn her back on the old man because he’d be pinching her backside before you could say, “Howdy do.”

Then there was Betty Jo. Grocery clerk. Scowling across the melons. “That sister of yours should have known better. She wasn’t raised that way.” She violently shook her head. “You need to get out and find a man, sweetie. It’s time. Want to go to Knoxville with me Saturday night?”

Ummm...no.

Tsk tsk. Geraldine Wisemueller. Obviously on her way home from her daycare job as she had baby spit and some sort of green goo on her shoulder. Geraldine sidled up beside her. “Now, tomorrow evening you are to come over for dinner and we’ll have meatloaf and pie and lemonade. You’ll forget all about the terrible man who left you and that little...um, and your sister.”

Best meatloaf in town. At least she thinks so. Suzie begged to differ.

Sympathy run amok.

She didn’t need any more sympathy run amok, thank you very much. Or any more hand patting. Or clucking after her ex-husband. Or tsk-tsking her sister. Or meatloaf.

She didn’t need any of that.

Or a man.

No.

Definitely didn’t need a man.

She needed milk.

Dammit. Just milk.

And she wasn’t going to get it today, that was for certain.

Besides, it had been over a year since her husband of fourteen years up and ran off with her baby sister, Chelly. She was over it. She was! When would they—meaning the entire town of Legend, Tennessee—give it up, too?

Talk of the town. Yep. Little Suzie Schul.

But she was tired of the whole sordid affair. Seemed like she and Cliff stirred up more gossip around these parts since, well… Since Pammy Gruber ran off to Nashville in ‘43 with the preacher from the Church of Christ.

Times like these she wished she didn’t live in a small town. Everybody knows your business. Everybody wants in on your business.

Arghh!

There were days she just wanted to run away.

But wait, she’d tried that once, right? And it hadn’t quite turned out so well.

She shook off the shiver that accompanied the thought.

Truth be known, she could never leave. Legendarians stayed put. It was sort of like a rule. Legend was her hometown. She was as homegrown and homespun as they came around these parts. Couldn’t imagine herself living anywhere else, especially in a big city. No, Legend was where she belonged and Legend was where she’d stay.

And she’d fight to keep this small town the way it was, had always been, no matter what its quirks or characters.

She picked up the dozen eggs and headed for the refrigerator, putting all that out of her mind. Hell’s bells. She’d have to endure the quirks and go out and get the darn milk. Shouldn’t take long. A guest was coming later this evening and she’d need the milk for morning breakfast. After all, she had her reputation to stand on, right? Well, Legend Landing’s Bed and Breakfast’s reputation at the very least. Hers might still be questionable.

Because the other half of the “talk of the town” was that she must have done something to make poor Cliff go and do what he did. Cliff had always been such a good guy (albeit a tad boring). What in the world was it, many speculated, that little Suzie Schul had gone and done? And just why had she moved to Gatlinburg, anyway, for those months?

Like she’d give them fuel for that discussion.

No way.

The groceries. Put away the groceries, Suzie.

On the way to the refrigerator, she glanced at the red blinking light on her answering machine and punched at the button.

A voice crackled. Bad connection. “Um...Suzette?”

She froze. Only one person in the world called her Suzette. No, it couldn’t be. She smashed the stop button. Panic raced through her. He couldn’t have found her.

Could he?

Carefully, she pushed the button again then turned to put away the eggs. Like, if she didn’t pay too much attention to the message it wouldn’t have too much importance.

Yeah, right.

“Um...Suzette? It’s...Brad. I’m...” Crackle, crackle, crackle. “...in...for a... Here’s my number. I, uh...proposition...you.”

And without further ado, Suzie missed the shelf of her refrigerator entirely and dropped the full dozen eggs, splat on her kitchen floor.

Damn.

Milk and eggs.

Pammy Gruber had nothing on Suzie Schul. Especially if Brad Matthews was coming to town.

***

Read more about Suzie and her Bed & Breakfast, at www.suziecooks.com

Finding Home

Coming March, 2011, in print.

Learn more at www.legendtennessee.com

Get Bed, Breakfast and You for your Nook or your Kindle!

A Witcherly Challenge

2000-04-01T19:31:00.002-05:00

A Witcherly Challenge
by Maddie James

A short story in Something Spooky This Way Comes

The Opening Scene....

It’s not like I’m a fish out of water or anything because I am a real witch.

Well, witch in training.

And even though I am in sitting here in night school, retaking Potions and Lotions 201, it doesn’t mean I’m a loser, either. It just means that I’m, well, witcherly-challenged, might be the right phrase.

Jade McIntire twisted a cord of her jet-black, waist-length hair around a finger and tugged. She always did that to get her brain back on track when she started daydreaming. But could she help it? One look out the window at the almost-full golden moon hanging in the very dark sky, and one glance at the clock hands which were about to point straight up midnight any second, and who could blame her?

Oh, and it’s the eve of Halloween, too. Why am I here?

Well, she knew the answer to that one. She was here because she had flunked Potions and Lotions. Not once, but twice. And witches who flunked out of Warlocks and Witches University classes (WWU, of course, and our mascot is The Flying Monkey) only got three chances to make it right.

This was her third chance. And tomorrow is Halloween. And if she didn’t pass this darn class with the exam she was about to take tonight, her days as an official, certified and credentialed witch were over. Forget the day job (aromatherapy was her “cover”) and the night job (well, witch, of course). She’d be on the street panhandling by morning, she guessed.

No. Not me. Not again.

There was the official graduation tomorrow night, of course, and she intended to be there with her black pointy hat and broom right along with the rest of them. Her slinky black Elvira dress was ready and waiting, hanging in her closet.

She glanced about and sighed. Her classmates were all hunched over their exams, their magic pencils flying over the pages (show-offs) and here she was looking at them all and thinking one thing: I am too old to be here. Why did I play too much as a kid?

Fact of the matter, she was twenty-two years old. A mite old for university. She imagined the median age of the rest of her class to be about fifteen. Yes, it’s true, WWU is a university but training to be a witch or warlock generally starts very early. Like, at least by twelve.

Can I help it if I just came to the game late? No one, like, even told me I was a witch until I was seventeen. I just thought I was normal. Not. My. Fault.

“Ahem.” A pointer tip clicked rapidly on the wooden top of her desk. Her gaze slowly lifted. Professor Mona, a High Witch, master of witch potions and pretty much a hard-ass case when it came to rules and formulas and shit, stared down at her with witch-hazel eyes that appeared just a tad bloodshot, at least to Jade.

Here it comes, she thought. For no good reason at all. To say that the High Witch had it out for her was an understatement. She hadn’t liked Jade since the first day of class—three classes ago….

“Yes, Mrs?” Jade whispered. Witch Mona always insisted she be called Mrs., because, well, she was married, and you see, the rest of them in class weren’t. And so, that gave her top billing, as far as witch hierarchy goes. At least in their clan. For in the clan, (clan, coven, they all worked the same) witches, and particularly witchlings, remained unmarried unless they were summoned by a High Warlock and chosen to wed. But those were only in extreme and dire circumstances because generally, in her clan, witches and warlocks liked to be free spirits. Playing the wicked field, you might say.

So, to commit to a one witch, one warlock relationship that was like, sigh, the ultimate. Most underling witches secretly dreamed about it on the inside—settling down with a Warlock of their very own for all of eternity—when on the outside they boasted of how many Warlocks they could seduce and run away on. Peer pressure, you know.

The tapping again. Louder. The green-eyed witch leaned closer and yes, definitely, her eyes were bloodshot. Not a very pretty witch, Jade decided. But she already knew that.

“Pretty is as pretty does.”

Shit. I forgot that Mrs. High Witch Mona could also read minds.

“It will behoove you to remember that, Missy.”

“My name is Jade,” she whispered, still staring the witch down, “not Missy.” She was so over this witch. Jade ticked her head to the right. “Missy is sitting there in the olive green drab dress, two rows over.”

“You would do so well to follow the rules of the clan, yourself, my dear.”

You see, witchlings like herself were only allowed to wear two colors until graduation—olive drab and mud brown. Once you passed your merits, you were allowed to wear black. She’d bought that slick Elvira dress when she’d started university just as an incentive.

Jade glanced down at herself. Pink. Tonight she’d chosen her low-cut neon pink knit top that hugged her breasts and made them nice and perky-looking. Sigh. She was such a rule-breaker. Cleavage wasn’t allowed until after graduation, either.

Good thing Mrs. High Witch couldn’t see her pink-toed cowgirl boots under her desk.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Oh, boy. Three solid taps. I’m in trouble now.

“Get busy, Missy.” Witch Mona bore down on her and Jade could do nothing but lift her head a little higher, point her nose in the elder witch’s direction, and hold her ground.

“I am attempting to do that, Mrs. High Witch Mona, but you are kindly interrupting me.”

“Enough!”

All the magic pencils in the room stopped scratching over their papers and each and every witchling’s and fledgling warlock’s heads jerked to attention at Witch Mona’s single word.

Smoke eased from the old witch’s ears. A crackling and popping skittered off from beneath her voluminous skirt and behind. Jade had to stifle a giggle, wondering if that was a giant witch fart. In fact, there was a bit of a stench.

She was pretty sure one corner of her mouth turned up into a semi-smile.

Then Professor Mrs. Mona started a low, deep gut-chant as her entire body began a slow, eerie rise. All eyes, and especially hers, were glued to the High Witch.

It was then that Jade saw the most beautiful, fantastic, utterly awesome thing she’d seen in her entire life.