Three Things Keeping Me Going

Last week, I didn’t send a newsletter.

You might not have noticed, but I’m confessing because chances are, you’re struggling the way I am, and I don’t want you to feel alone.

The whole damn world is on fire.

Scrolling through IG or Threads, I am at once fearful and hopeful.

Horrified and inspired.

Devastated and driven.

Utterly appalled.

And feeling so fucking betrayed by the half of humanity who has cut out its heart and soul, sacrificing the most vulnerable among us to protect their own interests.

I see what’s going on in the States. I feel the dark threat of its gaze cast my way. Most of you who follow me are in the thick of it. What can I possibly offer you?

In light of the deplorable absence of moral integrity and basic human decency in those called to safeguard our communities, does anything I have to say matter?

Instead of writing to you, I buried my nose in books. One is the one I’m currently writing, the rest are the brainchildren of other authors.

There, I found rest.

A tiny boost of energy.

A gentle ray of hope.

Branching out my efforts to escape, I charged my youngest child’s old iPad and decided to teach myself to draw. I pulled out my colouring books. I organized my embroidery supplies and plan to pull out the camera to learn to see the world through a different lens.

I even jumped on the crochet craze and tried to make a chubby, smiling weenie, but I failed.

Epically.

Which brings me to my point.

There need be no higher purpose to our play than simple enjoyment.

Really.

You can try something new, reignite old interests, or tap into your creativity even if you’re the world’s worst artist.

The results of your time and efforts need not be endlessly productive or useful. You are allowed to play.

Even as an adult.

Even with a career.

Even with a husband or wife and kids or none of the above, you’re permitted to enjoy yourself.

If you’re an eldest daughter or a type A personality, let me also reassure you that there is purpose to play.

It offers respite, reset, and a momentary turbo-boost to keep us going.

It gives your brain something to toy with while continuing to run the algorithms to solve the world’s problems in the background.

Play reminds us we are wonderfully and uniquely ourselves at a time when the powers that be push to lock us all down.

Relegate us to the roles we played in the past.

Roles women the world over have yet to escape.

I’m not terribly outspoken nor painfully smart like the women I’m watching with bated breath as they step forward to take on the riffraff.

But I can amplify their voices.

I struggle with mental and physical health issues, but I can refuse to allow the world to steal all of my joy.

I say this as the most imperfect of Christians who long ago gave up on discerning all the answers other than holding onto the hope that should I err in my beliefs, it will be on the side of love.

I say this as a mom to not only daughters, but also autistic and trans kiddos. I’m not exaggerating when I tell you I’m horrified and terrified for my children.

But I’ll be double-dog-damned if I allow the heartless and hardened to suck all the joy out of their lives.

Or mine.

I encourage you to play.

Defiantly.

Joyfully.

Loudly.

I encourage you to guard the best interests of the flame burning inside you.

I encourage you to seek rest and respite as needed, knowing full well ‘as needed’ is going to be a whole lot more often than usual.

And I encourage you to hold onto the women around you.

We’re used to holding everything together for our families, our jobs, and our households.

Now we must hold onto the very essence of our sweet and sassy selves.

Find time to play.

And next week?

Next week we’re talking about sex.^🫣

Author Spotlight: Stephanie Rose!

From bestselling author Stephanie Rose comes a swoon-worthy sports romance filled with sizzling chemistry, a heart-stealing hero who falls first, and an age-gap love story worth rooting for.

Rachel Manning has her hands full working a demanding job at a PR firm and raising her teenage sister. The only time she makes for romance is in the hours she carves out writing steamy novels. Until she collides with her very own meet cute…

Silas Jones, a recently retired baseball legend turned manager, is gorgeous, divorced, and carrying around enough regret to last a lifetime. One magical night with Rachel gives her a chance to forget her responsibilities while awakening something in him that he hasn’t felt in a long time… if ever.

When fate throws a curveball and brings them together again through work, he’s ready to play for keeps. But a strict no-fraternization clause in Rachel’s contract means being with Silas isn’t just risky—it’s forbidden. And she and her sister need every penny of that paycheck.

Falling in love was never part of the plan. But for a once in a lifetime love, is it worth risking it all?

I’m leaving you now with one of my favourite chapters from my newest release! In this chapter, Bridget is at the beach waiting for Kian and his six-year-old son, Isaiah, to catch up with her. Kian and Bridget haven’t quite established a friendship, and Bridget’s second-guessing her efforts.

Have a read and click the button to dive in.❤️❤️❤️

Skivvies

The breeze danced over me as reverently as a lover’s hands.

Inhaling deeply, I sank deeper into the warm sand beneath me, content in the knowledge I had at least 30 minutes to catch my breath before they showed up.

If they showed at all.

Coming down to the beach with Anita’s ratty old picnic blanket over the last couple of months had easily become my favorite pastime. Ever. The whisper of the wind, the call of the gulls, the soothing hush of the waves as they rolled in and out, or their thunderous crash depending on their mood, knit the tattered edges of my frayed nervous system together.

Years of perching on the edge of my seat, one foot pointed to the left, the other right in an effort not to take a wrong step.

The working definition of ‘wrong’ morphing according to his ever-changing metrics.

Refocus on the present.

Breathing deeply, I did just that.

A few minutes later, much earlier than I expected, I worked to quell my smile at Isaiah’s whispered question, “Is she sleeping?”

Kian chuckled softly. “I think so, bud. We better be quiet.”

I wasn’t sure what to make of Isaiah. He was nothing like Gary’s sons, especially the older two. Isaiah was confident of his place in the world. His little heart was soft and open, not wary and closed off.

Jakey had been like that. I liked to think he retained some of it even now. I hoped he did.

Isaiah’s sweet question gently tugged me away from the pain of the past. “Do you think she’d mind if we shared her blanket?”

There was a pause, then, “I don’t think she’d mind if we’re super still and super quiet.”

“I can be super still and super quiet!” he whisper-shouted.

Isaiah crawled up beside me, his hand landing on my thigh when he lost his balance. His running commentary daring me not to laugh.

“Dad, you lie down over there,” he ordered softly. “I’ll be in the middle.” His voice slowly returned to its normal volume. “Is it okay if I’m in the middle? I like to be in the middle.” He paused, shifted to his back, then wiggling into the sand. “It’s warm and cozy. That’s what Nana says. It’s co-zy. I like that word. I sleep in the middle at Nana and Papa’s house. Can we go visit them soon? Did I sleep in the middle with you and Mom?”

“You did,” Kian rumbled.

“Lie down, Dad,” he ordered. “There’s lots of room.”

Kian grunted as his body hit the ground, a sound that probably shouldn’t have struck me as erotic, but the thought of how I might elicit that sound refused to be tossed aside.

This man was turning me inside out without even trying.

“You’re not doing a great job at being super still or super quiet,” Kian murmured, his deep voice coming from a mere two feet away on the blanket next to me.

Isaiah dropped his voice to a harsh whisper. “Is this better?”

“Probably better if you don’t talk at all,” he rumbled.

I bit the inside of my cheek, my lips twitching. Poor Daddy just wanted a few minutes of peace and quiet.

How sweet it was to lie there beside them. Once upon a time this was the only thing I wanted.

My chest tightened. Once upon a time, for a little while, I had it.

Isaiah lasted a solid 30 seconds. “Are we playing the quiet game? I hate the quiet game.”

His running commentary warmed me like the sun.

As if he read my mind, Kian sighed and said, “Close your eyes and feel the sunshine on your face, son. It feels good.”

Isaiah waited a beat. “I can feel it with my eyes open, too.”

Kian’s warm chuckle hit me low in my tummy. “It’s better with your eyes closed.”

Fifteen seconds ticked past. His little body shifted beside me.

“She’s pretty.”

My heart lurched in my chest.

“Don’t you think she’s pretty, Dad?” He paused. “I might marry her one day.”

“You might be a little young for her, buddy.”

It didn’t escape my notice that he didn’t answer Isaiah’s question. I scoffed internally. What did I expect? A profession of deep, death-defying love followed by a pledge of lifelong loyalty and devotion based on my ability to serve up a mean scoop of mashed potatoes and circumvent an uncomfortable confrontation?

“Do you think she’s dead?”

I turned my head and opened my eyes to find him so close his two eyes merged into one. “I’m not dead.”

Without missing a beat, he asked, “Do you think we should get married?”

“Maybe we should be friends first. See if we’re compatible.”

“What does complatanimal mean?”

“Liking the same things. For example, what if I like to make spinach every day for dinner and play the quiet game on the weekends?”

“I would play the quiet game with you,” he whispered, his sweet words a sharp arrow embedded in my heart. His blue eyes widening, he admitted, “But I can’t eat spinach.”

“So, we should just be friends?”

He nodded, his eyes narrowing as he tilted his head to the side. “My dad likes spinach.”

A rough snort came from Kian as he lurched to his feet. Eyes crinkling, he extended his hand to help me up. “The boy moves fast.”

I laughed. “He’s very sweet. You’ve done a good job.”

Jerking back slightly in surprise, he stilled, his eyes searching mine.

I stepped minutely closer and tilted my chin up to look him in the face. “You know that, don’t you?”

He smiled ruefully and ran a rough hand through his hair. “I hope. I pray.” He looked away for a moment then gave his head a shake. When he looked back, it was with a smile on his face. “Walk or swim?”

“Oh,” I drew back quickly. “I’ll watch you guys swim and then we’ll walk and eat.”

I chewed on my lip.

The last thing I’d planned for today was stripping down to my skivvies under an unforgiving sun. If Kian was ever going to see me naked, let it be in the throes of orgasm. That way this imperfect body would forever be associated with spine-tingling pleasure.

Had to get him addicted to my pussy before I revealed my less-than-stellar bits.

I rolled my eyes at myself. The man set my libido on fire. At least it wasn’t dead as I’d begun to fear.

He barked out a laugh. “Are you having your own conversation in there?”

Pulled out of my own head, I blinked up at him and flushed. “Kind of?” I squeaked.

He grinned. “It’s okay. You’re probably a better conversationalist than I am anyway.”

“You did okay yesterday,” I teased.

“Speaking of yesterday,” he winced, “I forgot to pay the bill.”

I waved him away. “I got you.”

He shook his head. “No. Absolutely, not. I’ll go in later and settle it up with Susie.”

“That will be difficult seeing as there is no record of you being there and your dinner was not on the menu.”

“Then let me reimburse you,” he insisted, his voice dropping.

“You can owe me,” I countered, then flushed further.

Pushing myself on him again? Really?

He shook his head but smiled. “I’ll make it up to you.” He looked away, his eyes on Isaiah who bounded up and down the shoreline, stopping here and there when something shiny arrested his attention. “Thank you for everything you did yesterday. Seeing Aaron so upset rattled me.”

“He’s not being fair,” I murmured.

Kian’s gaze swung back to me. “After everything he’s been through, he doesn’t have to be.”

“Is he always like that with you?”

He huffed out a harsh breath. “Not at first but it’s getting worse and worse. I understand. There’s a lot to process, and with me moving to town, I haven’t really given him the space to do that.”

“If you gave him more space, he might blame you for that as well,” I murmured.

He tilted his head back and looked at me appraisingly. “Don’t judge him too harshly. He’s just a kid and wasn’t prepared for all of this.”

“So were you.”

His face closed.

I could press my point, but then this gentle man would pull away and have no one to talk to. Instead, I pressed my lips together and nodded. “I don’t judge him other than to say he’s a good kid. A good man, I suppose.” Plopping back down on my blanket, I offered, “Leave your stuff here and take the human hurricane for a swim.”

He reached back to grip the neckline of his t-shirt, and my eyes dropped to the thin strip of skin revealed along the top of his shorts.

He stopped to confirm, “You sure?”

I swallowed and jerked my gaze away before I drooled. Forcing myself to casually look away before meeting his eyes, I assured him, “Believe me, it’s no hardship to sit here.”

He grinned and yanked his shirt over his head.

I allowed myself one millisecond to take in the wide chest, tight abs, and the narrow line of hair centered between the V at his hips, the tempting arrow pointing to the Promised Land, before busying myself sorting their pile of belongings on the blanket.

Their whoops of laughter told me it was safe to look up and look I did.

Acres of smooth, honey-toned, sun kissed skin fairly begged me to steal a taste.

I needed to get this little crush under control. Falling for Kian, a man who had made it clear in more ways than one he wasn’t looking for a relationship with me, would complicate an already tenuous situation.

In Sage Ridge circles were tight. If we got together only to fall apart, it would add so much more drama to his life. He needed my circle, especially Wren and Max, to accept him so Aaron might give him a chance.

Starting a romantic relationship with me would be a terrible idea.

As for me, the last thing I needed was to get involved with another single dad.

Maybe the fact I automatically disqualified him as a viable option made me feel safe enough to think about him in those terms.

At the very least, he’d shown me I was still capable of feeling desire. That alone was a boon.

“Bridge! Bridge! Look at me!”

I lifted my arm to wave at Isaiah, then laughed as he squealed when Kian swung him into the waves.

Holy Shitburgers.

Water streamed over his muscles in rivulets dotted with sun-kissed diamonds.

I smiled weakly and waved once more before flopping back down on the blanket, my lady bits beginning to riot.

Pull yourself together there, lady. It’s not like you’ve never seen a half-naked man before.

I haven’t seen one like that!

Great. I closed my eyes and flung my arm over my face.

I was talking to my vagina.

And she was talking back.

After Isaiah leaped over his last wave, and Kian, thankfully, put his shirt back on, we walked down to Krippy’s for fish and chips. Talking about everything and nothing at all while Isaiah devoured my leftover fries, Kian’s quirked brow told me exactly how he felt about it.

I laughed. “I can’t slap him.”

He grinned as he put our garbage away, his big, calloused hand tagging mine to help me off the bench. Too bad he immediately dropped it as we ventured to the park and finally, an hour later, braved our way to Carousel Island to ride the ancient Merry-Go-Round.

“Look at me, Bridge!” Isaiah stood up in the stirrups, waving his arm around in the air with an imaginary lasso.

“You’re a real-life cowboy, Ace!”

Beside me, Kian chuckled. “He loves this thing.”

“The town council were planning to take the carousel down,” I informed him.

“That would have been a shame.”

I nodded. “Especially since it’s so important to Harley. Her brother who passed away, Hunter, loved it as a child.” I laughed. “Apparently, they used to sneak over here in the middle of the night when they were teens.”

Kian grinned. “That’s what kids do. How did they save it?”

I shook my head. “Daire bought it for her.”

Kian whistled. “They must have loved him very much.”

“I never knew him, but they talk about him often. Especially Harley. I think that’s part of the reason she’s so invested in Aaron. She says he reminds her of Hunter. I don’t know all the details, but it was a tragedy that affected them for years.”

“I’m glad Daire bought her the carousel,” he murmured.

“Me too.”

On our way back home, I looked on, astounded as Isaiah took off running for the toboggan hill. “Where does he get his energy?”

Even now, after hours in the sun, Isaiah tackled the toboggan hill by the park with gusto, determined to make his way to the top.

Kian laughed and shook his head.

I huffed in disbelief. “How on earth do you keep up with him?”

Kian smiled as he watched him struggle up the hill. “It probably helps that I have such a physical job.”

I cocked my head to the side. “What do you do exactly?”

“I own a contracting business with my brothers. Some projects we do together, some separate. Since my wife passed, I mainly focus on flipping houses since it gives me greater flexibility with Isaiah. I rarely list a house until it’s near or at completion which takes a lot of the pressure off.”

My eyebrows flew up. “That’s so interesting! Do you have a project on the go right now?”

He wagged his head back and forth. “I’m considering a few options.”

“I’d love to see the before and after.” I laughed. “And the middle.”

He chuckled, the afternoon sun glinting off his shades. “It’s not nearly as exciting as you think. It’s a lot of hard, sometimes dirty work.”

Hard and dirty, just the way I like it.

The joke teetered on the tip of my tongue.

Kian’s mouth tipped up on one side like he knew what I was thinking.

Luckily, Isaiah’s strident voice pulled my mind out of the gutter.

“Bridge! Bridge!” Isaiah hurtled back down the hill, his little legs flying until he came to a bone-rattling stop in front of us. Tipping his chin back, he asked, “Will you come with us to the beach tomorrow, Bridge?”

I gaped, caught up in his baby blues and taken by surprise by the urgency of his question.

When I bullied Kian into meeting me today, I didn’t think ahead to what would happen next. Pushing myself on him once, that one time the result of trying to save him a potentially painful conversation, was acceptable.

Ongoing?

No.

I was no longer in the habit of hanging around where I wasn’t wanted.

I flashed a bright smile, studiously avoiding Kian’s gaze. “I can’t tomorrow, Ace.”

“Next week?”

“We’ll have to see,” I replied softly.

His little face fell.

I studiously avoided Kian’s eyes. It was only a matter of seconds, but they took aeons to pass.

When he spoke, I tipped my chin up to look at him.

“Don’t worry little man,” Kian assured him, lips curled up in a soft smile. Eyes steady on mine, he continued, “We’ll work on her this week when we see her at Susie Q’s. See if we can’t get her to change her mind.”

That’s it for me.

My lovelies.

Live Messy, Love Madly!

Devin.