Holiday Blog Hop

The holidays

When I was a kid, every New Year’s we were either at my Uncle Paul’s house in Maryland or he and his wife were at our house.

Sometimes my Uncle Eddie would be there with his family, too. If we stayed in Maryland, I got to stay with Uncle Eddie because he had kids. Cousins!!! We played marathon games of War and when electronic football first came out, we played marathon games of that. We would manage to shove 15 people at a table that only sat 8. When I try to do this my DH doesn’t get it. This was what I grew up with. It’s normal to me.

Ah. Good times.

These days my house is the gathering place. My sister and her husband drive up from North Carolina. My DH’s brother drives in from Michigan. My nephew makes the trek from Minnesota and every other year, my other nephew and his wife come in from Alaska.

A house full. And I love it. Everyone cooks or cleans up. No one pulls any more weight than anyone else.

Best of all, we all like each other. I am so lucky to not have any drama at holiday time.

Cmr
Excerpt A View to a Kilt

“There’s a pack of reporters out there.”

“Reporters?”

Gazing past him out the two sets of glass doors, she saw the news vans. Damn. She bit her lip, glancing from him to the door. She sighed. “Is there another way out?”

He nodded and she found herself following the man. She took two steps, then stopped short. Am I crazy?

He turned to look at her.

“What? The other door is this way.”

“Who are you?”

He smiled and saluted. “Gus Macpherson, a friend of Lieutenant Bob Carnes.”

Her eyes narrowed, but he looked like the type of friend Bob might have. With his erect posture and constantly scanning eyes, “Cop” might well have been stamped on his forehead. She looked around the hallway then back at Gus. “If you touch me, I’ll scream.” Just in case she assessed him incorrectly.

He put his hands up. “These will not come anywhere near you.”

“Okay, lead on.”

He continued in the direction he had indicated earlier. Some part of her brain registered a nice butt in worn jeans. The thought went no further. The tall man led her through the emergency department, down a hallway to the Main Entrance.

She stopped by the door, arms crossed. “Won’t there be reporters, here?”

The redhead shook his head. “Take a look.”

No news vans.

“You’re right,” she said, but when she looked up the man had disappeared.

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