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Seconds and Cents #MFRWauthor

What if time and money were not an issue? This is like asking what would one do if one won the jackpot in the lottery. The possibilities. For me, time isn’t an issue. There’s enough time in the day to do the things needed or which I like to do. However, if I had enough money to do what I wanted . . .  

 

I would travel on a regular basis. at least once a month or every other month to see my family in Michigan.

 

My family would be provided for, and those who have issues handling finances would have their bills paid and receive a stipend.

I’d build a house.

Clean up my credit.

 

But that’s easy and simple. To provide a legacy I would advocate for better services for mental health. This isn’t just a reference to someone dealing with #depression, #anxiety, personality disorders, or the like, but to anyone who needs a mental health break. This could be the family of special needs children, single parents overwhelmed with life, active service members and/or their families dealing with yet another assignment or deployment, children and adults suffering from #PTSD arising from abuse, neglect, bullying, or any other trauma.

 

I’d also like to provide a safe place for transient or the homeless. In SWFL there is a high population of both.

 

There’s a church in Columbus, OH, Church for All People, that provides an interesting and unique outreach. It’s more than providing a hot meal. This church has managed to provide clothing, housing. medical services, including medication, as well as food for no cost to those who truly need it. If money and time were no issue, that’s would I would do. 

 

#LynnChantale #Love #World #Hope

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What Had The Demigod Seen? #MFRWhooks

“Once my father found me, I stayed in seclusion with one of the healers and a confidant.” Moctezuma continued as if nothing had happened. “I think that is the real reason my father wishes me to rule. He understands the suffering I’ve experienced and knows I will use my past to help others, to provide a more united front for our people and end the squabbling of who is better.” 

 

Huemac merely nodded. He would eradicate anyone who opposed him—not give peace a chance. Peace didn’t work. History had proven that time and time again. Peace merely prolonged the inevitable takeover by greedy disease-infested interlopers.

 

Still, he refrained from looking Moctezuma directly in the eye. The exchange had left him surprisingly shaken and he didn’t trust his voice not to quaver and betray his true emotions. Belatedly, he swore again. Metztli had done much of the same thing earlier, hadn’t she? Did the siblings share the same gift or was it just the force of their personalities?

 

Icy tendrils of fear crawled through his belly. No could know his plans.

 

“So you understand why this is so important? The last thing I want to do is be the harbinger of war.”

 

“Truly you do not believe that ancient prophecy?”

 

Moctezuma raised an elegant shoulder. “Just as the birth of Christ was foretold, so is war.”

 

Another long moment passed. Huemac was almost certain Moctezuma had seen the plot.

 

A servant, in a long flowing tunic and pale cotton pants the color of dry sand, hurried across the garden. As soon as he was within three feet of Moctezuma, he dropped to his knees and touched his forehead to the stones in front of the demigod’s feet. “Tecutli—Lord, your presence is needed before the priests.” Though muffled, the servant’s voice was clear and crisp.

 

“Ehua—rise, Ichtaca.” Moctezuma said.

 

The servant did, but remained in a submissive posture, head bowed and hands clasped behind his back.

 

“Tell the priests I will arrive in due time. I am aware of the hour.”

 

Ichtaca bowed his head, backed away several paces before turning and leaving the garden.

 

Moctezuma glanced at the sky. The sun was still high in the cloudless blue sky, but it had passed its zenith. “I must see to my duties, Huemac. Perhaps before the ceremony, we can both shirk our duties for a time and go fishing.”

 

A real smile touched the corners of Huemac’s mouth. “Perhaps.”

 

Without another word, Moctezuma left the garden in a puff of green mist.

 

Huemac stared at the vacant spot with a mixture of contempt and fear. Just what had the demigod seen when he looked into Huemac’s eyes? 

 

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The Designers Bride by Lynn Chantale

The Designer’s Bride #MFRWhooks

For cosmetics heiress Elisabeth Bach, finding the right man hasn’t been easy, especially when her father is bent on arranging her love life for his own twisted purposes. When she falls for fashion designer Jordan Carlisle, she knows she’s met The One, and she’ll do anything to keep their relationship secret from her father’s schemes.

Jordan Carlisle has been waiting a long time for a chance to date Elisabeth and he’s determined to make her his wife. Will a Valentine’s Day proposal be enough to keep her or will his checkered past destroy his future?

 

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Excerpt

“Are you playing matchmaker again, Dylan?”

He chuckled. “No ma’am. He saw you sitting alone.”

“I think I can take it from here,” a smooth, velvety voice interrupted.

Dylan nodded and backed away. Elisabeth straightened a little in her chair. Her breath stuck in her throat at the intensity of the newcomer’s stare. His long slow perusal left her body simmering.

His jet black hair was cut close, the smooth hairline tapering to neatly trimmed sideburns. Otherwise, his rugged face was clean-shaven. He smiled and her eyes were drawn to his full, sexy mouth. For a moment, she wondered how his lips would feel pressed against hers. Desire flooded her veins.

“Jordan Carlisle.” He offered his hand. The oversized watch on his wrist winked in the dim light, vying for attention with his gold cufflinks.

She accepted his hand. “Elisabeth.” She snapped her gaze to his at the crackle of electricity between them. He held her hand a second too long and flirtation gleamed in the depths of his coffee-colored eyes.

“Mind if I join you?” He waved to the vacant chair across from hers.

She shook her head and bit back a sigh when his biceps flexed against the dark silk of his suit jacket. He unbuttoned his coat and sat down.

“I hate dining alone,” he said, smiling apologetically.

“I do too. I was just about to leave.” She studied him from beneath her lashes before meeting his eyes a second time. He seemed familiar to her, yet she couldn’t quite place where she’d seen him. “Have we met before?”

He smiled, wide and easy, and her heart fluttered in anticipation.

“Not formally. I’m a friend of your brother’s. We went to college together.”

His dark good looks and devil-may-care eyes slid into place in her memory. The photo in her brother’s room, of the lacrosse team. Jordan had been the captain.

“You and Drew played lacrosse.”

He nodded. “How is Andrew? It’s been a few months since we’ve seen each other.”

“Out of town at the moment. At a conference.” She reached for her water glass and Dylan reappeared with a second menu. “I’ll have to tell Andrew we spoke.”

“I’m sure he won’t mind.” Jordan smiled again and she melted.

She shook her head. “He thinks I should get out more, but my father has a way of sabotaging my love life.” She sipped her water.

He regarded her a moment, avid interest shining in his eyes. “You are definitely worth protecting.”

Heat crept into her cheeks from his scrutiny as well as the compliment. “You’re pretty suave, aren’t you?”

He chuckled, a smooth laugh that reminded her of warm fudge. “When it suits me.”

“Like now?”

He inclined his head.

“And my father knows nothing about you?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

She picked up a menu. “Let’s keep it that way.”

 

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