Is it possible to have too much fun?
Asking for . . . it's me, okay?
Hello, friends~
Last night around 11, I remembered that I hadn’t sent my weekly update to y’all. That’s why you’re receiving it at . . . well, look at the clock, friend, because that’s when you’re reading it . . . instead of at 7:15 AM eastern time.
It’s possible that I’m having too much fun lately.
Last week, I went to the beach with my daughter and grands (so much fun), then had breakfast with the newly returned bride the next day, which whom I spent an afternoon thrifting on Wednesday. I also went to the movies and out for burgers with my husband on Monday (we saw the new Mission: Impossible movie, as I think I mentioned last week). We celebrated our 38th wedding anniversary on Thursday night at The Melting Pot with the youngest daughter, and then again the next afternoon by ourselves at Bar Louie.
And yesterday, I spent the day at Legoland with my daughter, son-in-law, and the granddaughters. It was HOT but not so crowded, and we had a wonderful time—followed by an hour in the hotel pool, which was pure bliss before I drove home to spend the evening with PopPop who had had to do church that morning and thus missed the adventure.
All of which to say . . . whew! Maybe #TawdraFoundTooMuchFun.
Never fear—this week I’m back to as close to normal as I’ve been in a while. Mel and I are recording promo interviews with our fabulous speakers coming to NINC in the fall, in addition to a few other conference-related commitments. I’m also head-down in the final details of my incredible new direct store—we might have an opening date, so watch this space as soon as I have it confirmed!
My office is slowly getting back to normal—which reminds me that I’m excited to share this lovely new room with you all, as soon as the wedding stuff is out! I’m also working on two new books—and one of them is Ball Skills, which will be shared with paid subscribers starting very shortly.
Speaking of which, if you want to enjoy Ball Skills while it’s in process (being written!), make sure you’re a paid subscriber:
My friends write amazing books!
If you love small-town swoons and steam, you’ve come to the right place! Each month in 2025, I’ll share a tantalizing snippet of an author pal’s small-town romance. This month, we’re getting a sneak peek into M.E. Montgomery’s Call It Reckless (Sterling Mill Series)
Bristol Allen has always lived her life one way—full throttle. Reid Braxton knows exactly what might happen if you don’t play it safe—you find yourself raising a little girl on your own.
I killed my vehicle lights and parked along the side of the road. Unlocking my glove compartment, I pulled out my gun and ensured I had my badge.
I made a quick call to dispatch so they’d know where I was and what I was doing. They’d send backup, but I wanted to snoop around before someone got away. I made my way to the back and tested a side door, frowning when I found it unlocked.
I quietly entered, almost immediately hearing a thump, followed by a muffled curse coming from a room to my left.
Pulling my gun and a flashlight, I followed the wall until I came to an open door. In the moonlight streaming through the window, I saw a tall figure standing over a desk, shuffling around inside a drawer. Suddenly, the figure froze, but within a split second, it pulled something from the desk, looked in my direction, and aimed it at me.
A feminine voice called, “Freeze right where you are, you bastard.”
“Sheriff’s department. Don’t move,” I shouted in return as I clicked on the flashlight, aiming my weapon alongside it. “Put your hands above your head, where I can see them.”
In the beam of light, I could see a woman barely dressed in tiny shorts and a tank top with long hair draped over her shoulder, where it left a wet spot on a white T-shirt that did very little to hide her assets underneath. Not at all what I’d been expecting.
I lowered my weapon. “Bristol?”
She didn’t flinch. “You’ve got three seconds to tell me what you’re doing here, or I’ll open this up on your sorry ass.”
I held my ground but holstered my gun, then flashed my badge at her. “I’m Deputy Sheriff Braxton. We met briefly at Emalee and Zach’s wedding a few months ago.”
She lowered her weapon and crossed her arms. I breathed out a sigh of relief.
“Reid, wasn’t it?” She took a couple of steps closer to me. “How ‘bout you tell me what the hell you’re doing creepin’ around my house?”
Even if she wasn’t pointing a weapon at me anymore, I didn’t mistake the look in her eye for a welcome.