Spring is in the air!

Spring is definitely in the air in my neck of the woods. The temperatures are rising, the snow has melted, Robins are back, and when I go for a walk, I can hear the birds singing in the trees. What a difference to last year when we still had snow up to our knees! This time of year, I find I have a craving for salads, so I thought I’d share a recipe for a light salad with a delicious peanutty dressing. I love Boston lettuce because of its fresh, airy taste.

Melon Salad with Spicy Peanut Dressing

1 cantaloupe – scooped out with a melon baller to make bite-sized balls

1 lb seedless grapes halved

1 head Boston lettuce, torn to pieces


1/3 cup vegetable oil

1/3 cup freshly squeezed lime juice

2 cloves garlic, minced

1 Tbsp gingerroot, minced

2 Tbsp peanut butter

½ cup coriander

1 Tbsp packed brown sugar

Dash of hot pepper sauce (optional)

Blend dressing ingredients together with a hand blender or in a food processor. Combine the lettuce, grapes, and lettuce in a bowl and pour dressing over top (you may not need it all). Enjoy!

Perfectly Planned is the third book in the Perfectly Series. The heroines of the first two books are close friends and have similar personalities. I wanted Chloe, the heroine of this story, to be completely different. She’s really quirky and has some crazy ideas, but she’s also kind and sweet and totally loveable. She butchers the lyrics to songs with some very funny results. She was a hoot to write! In Perfectly Reasonable, the second book of the series, Margo, the heroine, is tad obsessed with the type of car people drive and how it relates to their personality. I didn’t disclose what kind of car Trace Bennett, the hero, drives. I skimmed around it, and I thought it was pretty clever to leave it up to the reader’s imagination. My beta readers agreed, but oops, it really irritated some readers. 😀 So before I released Perfectly Planned, I added a scene where I reveal what type of car Trace drives. My loyal readers were much happier. 😀

Chloe Keay is on the hunt for the perfect sperm donor, but who knew it would be this hard? So many things to consider in a father – sure height and hair color are important, but what about the real issues. How does he feel about bagpipe music? Does he buy the extended warranty? Skittles or M&Ms? She doesn’t want an average Joe. She’s narrowed it down to two candidates and has the perfect plan to pick the heir and the spare.

Staff Sergeant Rip Logan, head of the elite Tactics and Rescue Unit, has a gut feeling that Chloe Keay is trouble. She’s a sexy little spark plug who radiates innocence, but it doesn’t jibe with her suspicious behavior and probing questions. The fact that he’s attracted irritates him. What exactly is she after? And should he go with his gut or follow his heart?

Planning for love – what could possibly go wrong?


Buy Link: https://www.amazon.com/ebook/dp/B017GGC346

Enjoy an excerpt:

“Strike three. You’re out.” The umpire signaled the call as Chloe Keay sat down in the stands. Fans clapped and the team in the outfield jogged toward the dugout.

Chloe squinted and tried to read the third baseman’s jersey. Poppa Pete’s Knuckleballs. Ripley Logan’s team must be at bat because his posted pictures were all about the Tried and TRU. She wrinkled her nose. Hopefully, that wasn’t a sexual reference.

The first batter up had very good form. Well-toned arms, nice butt. Got a two base hit. She wondered if he donated sperm.

The second batter struck out. He had very skinny legs. Pass.

The third batter sauntered out like he owned the field. All the outfielders backed up.

“Bring me home, Rip,” shouted the player at second base, clapping his hands.

Rip. Ripley Logan. Sounds like my man, Chloe thought and sat a little straighter. He was very attractive. A solid twelve out of ten. The navy T-shirt stretched across his broad chest and flat abdomen. Shorts showed off his muscular legs, and when he stuck out his butt to swing, Chloe raised her eyebrows. She could live with that.

He swung the bat on the first pitch and connected with the ball. It cracked off the bat and sailed into left field. Ripley dropped the bat and sprinted.

Heaven. A little taste of heaven on earth.

He was so pretty. Fluid, graceful, lightning fast. The player on second made it home, and Ripley made it to third. A silly man standing near the third base stopped him. Really, it was poetry in motion. Why would you stop that? Chloe shook her head.

It took two more batters to bring Ripley home. The inning ended and the Tried and TRU were up two runs.

She followed Ripley as the inning changed and watched him walk over to cover first base. He played it well. Very good hand-eye coordination. Nice long reach. Quick reflexes. Reasonable shoe size. Beautiful smile. Looked like he had straight teeth, but she’d really have to get closer to assess. All in all, she was pretty pleased. He hadn’t said enough to check for the nasally voice, but it was looking positive.

She loved the atmosphere at the game. Fans clapped and stood with each exciting play. Between innings, music blared over the loud speakers. She really got into rooting for the Tried and TRU, and when the music played she sang along.

“Carrots and biscuits. Every day.” She loved that song. It was so healthy. She joined in at the top of her lungs, but stopped when the gentleman beside her gave her an odd look.

“What?” she asked.

“Isn’t that supposed to be ‘Takin’ Care of Business’?” he said, shaking his head.

‘Taking Care of Business?’ What kind of health food message was that? She frowned at her neighbor, who had shifted his attention back to the game.

Really, with the exception of Skinny Legs, there was a stellar choice of sperm in that dugout. Her talents were wasted as a receptionist at the sperm bank. They should hire her to recruit donors. She’d found a gold mine.

At the top of the ninth, Ripley came up to bat again. The pitcher wound up, and Ripley connected with the sweet spot. The ball soared in the air. The infield and outfield watched as the ball arced over them toward the parking lot.

Chloe sat straighter as the ball, almost in slow motion, fell dead center into the windshield of her Camaro, the only car parked in the north lot. The sound of glass shattering broke the silence.

“Who the hell parked there?”

Chloe looked over at Rip, a hand on his hip, a scowl on his face. A nasally voice wasn’t going to be an issue.

Buy Link (enrolled in Kindle Unlimited): https://www.amazon.com/ebook/dp/B017GGC346