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With so many places to go in the world it’s difficult to decide on just one place. My fantasy vacation would involve touring the United States. I know it’s not the foreign and exotic places of moors, the Eiffel Tower and the Vatican, but so many places have a rich history of their own.


We have majestic mountains, volcanoes — active and inactive,— deserts, swamps and caves and caverns.


One of my favorite places to visit is New York. As a visually impaired person, I found the city to be fantastic on the senses. The city has smells, sounds, energy and yes you can even taste it. Did you know you can spend days underground and totally forget you’re underground?


Then there’s my home state of Michigan. My hometown was the site of the sit-down strike, while  other cities were stops on the Underground Railroad on the way to Canada and freedom. Did you know Sojourner Truth is buried in a cemetery in Battle Creek? And the Creek is more than just Kellogg country.


There’s a museum in Arkansas where one can mine diamonds. Yes, and if you find one you get to keep it. There’s the St. Louis Arch and BBQ, The Coca-Cola factory and Museum in ATL. A fantastic stone slide in Cincinnati, OH. Let’s not forget the Magnificent Mile in Chicago, or The Weiner Circle. How about a  nickel on the yo in the Bellagio and then go for dinner in its Buffet.


Don’t forget all the little nooks and crannies, like the beautiful Duke gardens and Duke University. And yes, even in my current state of Florida, I enjoy seeing the Manatees.


Who needs Europe or Africa when all you have to do is travel around your own backyard.


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Mistletoe Blues #MFRWhooks

Jackson Holt wants to surprise his girlfriend, Meredith with the wedding of her dreams, but a jealous co-worker is bent on keeping the lovebirds apart.

Meredith Baxter is overjoyed at the prospect of a Christmas Eve wedding. When the groom goes missing just moments before the ceremony, she’s left to wonder if it’s a case of cold feet or something much more sinister.

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Did he really think a bunch of silly flowers and puppy dog eyes would make her forgive him? Meredith Baxter snatched the bouquet of pink carnations from Jackson’s hand and tossed it to the icy sidewalk.

He widened his green eyes in surprised amusement. “Don’t be that way, sweetheart,” he said. The warmth in his voice was enough to cause the cold air to melt, but not the hurt and anger surrounding her heart. He rested a hand on her arm. “It was just a misunderstanding.”

She jerked from his grasp and glared at him. “A mis...” she sputtered, then drew a deep breath. “A misunderstanding is showing up an hour late for a date. You went on tour with the band. Without telling me!”

Confusion clouded his eyes and knitted his brows together. “But I thought—is that why you didn’t bother to show up for the last gig?”

She huffed, her breath forming white wisps in the wintry air. “I’d slap your face if I thought it’d knock some sense into you.”

Jackson chuckled, the soft sound moving over her like hot chocolate, soothing and sensual.

“You always had a temper.” He stepped closer, his body heat chasing away the chill from hers, and lifted a hand to brush a wayward snowflake from her hair. “But it never lasted very long.”

She hated that he was right and even now her anger was dissolving with each frigid blast of arctic air, but he would not do this to her. Not today. And especially not after the way he left. She gazed into his face. A couple of cinnamon brown dreadlocks peeked beneath the black wool newsboy cap he wore. He could do with a shave, but the shadowed beard darkening his jaw added depth to his narrow face. She swept her gaze over his mustache and tried not to think about the way the hairs tickled her lip when he kissed her or how his mouth always drove her crazy with its whispered seductions.

Meredith fought her rising desire and stared into his eyes once more. Green. His eyes were a remarkable shade of emerald she’d never seen anywhere or on anyone else. Mix that with his caramel complexion, decadent body and a hell of a voice and she was stuck faster than a compact car in a snowdrift.

His dulcet tones mesmerized her. The way his raspy baritone warbled on blues notes was enough to grab her attention, but it was the haunted look in his eyes that captivated and his selfless giving that kept him in her heart.

He’d always been attentive and caring. But that was three months ago, before he decided to fill in for another bassist. Before he left her without so much as an email or old-fashioned ‘Dear Jane’ letter. She’d have settled for a text message, anything was better than him leaving with her heart and not telling her why. Especially after all the promises he made.

He’d pledged his love, promised her grand adventures, made her believe in the magic of love, then he took it all away.



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They’re called ‘Santa Muggings.’ #MFRWhooks

Secrets abound in Benson's Bakery. A crazed Santa wants something valuable hidden inside the building, and only two things stand in his way...Jake and Sara.


When Sara Henderson receives threatening letters just days before Christmas, she asks sexy bread baker Jake Benson for help. Jake is more than happy to provide the muscle to keep the beautiful cake decorator from harm, but he has an ulterior motive--to steal a kiss under the mistletoe. Sara wants that kiss as much as he does, but first they have a mystery to solve.


Will they find out who is stalking Sara, or will Santa succeed in stealing Christmas?

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She combed trembling fingers through her hair. She’d rather leave the police out of the equation, but maybe if she showed them the letters they would take her seriously this time. Either way she wanted the harassment to stop.

She sighed. “Wha-what did you hear on the news?”

“They’re called ‘Santa Muggings.’ Several individuals have been robbed by Santa, mostly at the mall though. The police can’t really help without a better description.”

“Did they receive threats, too? Did you read that note, Jake? This guy is very specific.” Apprehension flickered through her stomach, twisting her in knots. She paced the small office. “What am I gonna do? Do you know how many Santas are running around this time of year?”

He grinned. “Can you imagine how this has hurt sales at the mall?”

She tossed him a frosty glance. “You’re making jokes, and I’m serious.”

Jake captured her hand. His warm, rough palm calmed her agitated nerves. She met his stare, and surprised delight flickered under his concern. Had he also noticed the tiny jolt arcing between them?

She rested her gaze on his lean, boyish features. His smooth toffee skin held a smattering of day-old stubble and seemed to be the only thing she could think of some days. Well, that and his mouth. She longed to lean across the desk, to taste his full, sexy lips and never stop. She blinked. Now was not the time.

“I’m here for you, honey.” He drew lazy circles on the back of her hand with his thumb.

She loved the contrast of their skin tones, his a rich caramel and hers a warm chocolate. Butterflies whispered through her veins until Sara had a hard time concentrating on anything but him. “I think these notes may have something to do with your grandfather’s death.”

“Why do you say that?”

With reluctance, she withdrew her hand. “Every year Jerry would open twelve of the deposit boxes downstairs. If he found something valuable, he would split the contents with the rest of the staff, as kind of a year-end bonus.”

For more than fifty years, the bakery had serviced the Genesee County area, but in the early to mid-1900’s the building had been occupied by a private company specializing in lock boxes. Somehow the deposits boxes remained.

Jake sat up straight. “You really think this has something to do with the safety deposit boxes?”

“I didn’t start receiving the letters until after the funeral.”

He stared at her, concern flickered in his eyes. “You mean this isn’t the first one?”

She shook her head. “I didn’t want to bother you, especially since I thought they were a joke at first. But the wording is becoming more aggressive.” She sighed. “Why else would someone send threatening letters right before we’re planning to open the boxes?”

She turned to leave, but Jake recaptured her hand. Heat sizzled up her arm, down through her body and pulsed low.

“You’re not in this alone, Sara. All you have to do is call me.”

She closed her eyes, unease forming an icy knot in the pit of her stomach. “I thought someone was following me the other day.” She shuddered. “And just now. Outside.” She gazed into Jake’s compassionate gray eyes. “I don’t like being afraid.”

He stood, bringing his other hand to her waist.



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