WHEN DEATH COMES FOR YOU
Sergeant Brooke Forester wants to live a life that means something, and one in which she isn’t perpetually shrouded by her father’s sins.
YOU MUST FIGHT
But in the blink-and-you-miss town of Sula, Montana, gossip constantly sweeps through the community… And, while Brooke has been the public’s target for years, soon no gossip is juicier than that about the sexy, new FBI agent Sawyer Reynolds who has come to investigate a series of strange and gruesome murders.
OR DIE
Just when Brooke thinks she escapes her past, her past returns—
and brings a cold, calculating psychopath right along with it.
And this time, the killer won’t stop until they take every last shred of her identity and eventually, her life.
The truth is, I’m elbows deep in renovating my house. (Like the prison bars?)Last summer, my husband convinced me that we should move into a house with a shop (that included a car lift… We bought a house because of a car lift… *Shaking head* I am still confused at how he convinced me this was a good idea).He’ll be the first to admit the house needed entirely too much work for our own good (but, on a side note, our kids are learning how to remove trim and spackle). Or, maybe it is for our own good—we have come together as a family through this journey. We regularly have painting dance parties--last night it was to the song “Get Low.” Regardless, when I'm not writing, I'm renovating... and sometimes one thing just bleeds into the other. Things aren't saved (like blog posts) and paint makes its way onto things (my computer has a nice new speckled pattern).
For your viewing pleasure, here's another pre-reno picture of our house so you can see it in its full glory. This puppy hasn’t been touched since 1979.I wish I could kid around about loving the orange carpet, but I hate it so much that even the thought of saying I love it makes me want to rip it out. It's end is near, my friends, its end is near...
On a positive note, the orange-beast carpet does work well for a painting drop cloth. So far we’ve gone through twenty-five gallons of paint. I’m not kidding. Twenty-five. And I’m not done.I went out of my house this week for McDonalds, while there I had a conversation with one of my friends about how my nails are whatever color I’m painting in my house. I love getting my nails done, but I am living in a reality in which that kind of frivolity would last about ten minutes. I long for the days in which my fingernails were a nice pink color, or better yet, red... I love red.The only place that isn’t covered with paint are my fingertips… I have been rubbing that paint off thanks to the hours I’ve been spending on the keyboard working on the books—but that’s another blog post (needless to say, I’m LOVING the upcoming releases).Okay, I’m rambling. See what I mean? I’m so losing it. I feel like the dog from Up when it sees the squirrel. My mind is awash with long to-do lists and the desire to be done with all things orange and smothered in paint.So… What do you recommend I do to come back to center (i.e. my spreadsheets and calendars)? What about you? What do you do when life is pulling you in a million directions? What do you do to escape? I can’t wait to hear!!