The wait is over! Hometown Girl Again is now Available on Amazon! As an author, I take great pleasure in writing about topics that I find interesting, and of course my latest novel is a perfect example. Hometown Girl Again, book five of The Hometown Series, features vintage camp trailers from the 1950s! What could possibly be more romantic? As Katherine learns in the novel, restoring old trailers is actually quite difficult and dirty, but extremely rewarding work.
Six authentic vintage trailers are featured in the novel, and as the reader you will follow Katherine from her quiet orderly life where every choice is safe, through the unexpected adventure of restoring trailers for her new glamping park.
The first trailer in the book, Katherine’s home, is a 1954 Anderson 315-TB, complete with turquoise and chrome exterior, bubble window in the door, polished birch interior walls and ceiling, and a vintage 1950 style bathroom. Among the trailers she loving overhauls is a 33 foot 1950 Spartan Royal Mansion, similar to the one Lucille Ball and Dezi Arnez own in the movie The Long Long Trailer. If you have ever been curious about vintage trailers, this story is for you!
Katherine, as well as the other leading ladies in The Hometown Series, have their mind set on a task and just as everything is going great, in walks unexpended complications in the form of a handsome man. These ladies aren’t afraid to work hard and get grimy to make their dreams come true, and of course, they can’t help falling in love. In Hometown Girl Again, Katherine gets the added stressful bonus of falling for her ex, her first love from a decade past. I think most of us experience an inward shudder at the thought, but in all fairness, many us also harbor a tiny hidden place in the back of our heart for our first love.
I hope you enjoy returning to Smithville. Of course, the town folk you know and love can’t resist interfering with Katherine and Alex, and the trailers. I’d love to hear what you think about the story, as well as any photos you’d like to share of your vintage trailers!
IMPORTANT NOTE: The lovely artwork in this blog was created by the very beautiful and talented Simone Ritter. You can see more of her original paintings at www.Simoneritterart.com
It’s personal, it tells a story, just like hand written letters and special finds from antique shops.
You can also contact her through her Etsy shop angelicwhimsey.etsy.com. She welcomes all inquires and emails.
Wood and metal groaned overhead as the opening in the roof of the vintage camp trailer widened, allowing in a sliver of light. Alex slowed the saw, careful not to buckle or splinter the wood. Katherine shifted her weight to the other foot, sweating profusely in the hot trailer, standing toe-to-toe with Alex. Noonday sun glinted off the edges of the silver roof, nearly blinding them both as the opening for an air-conditioning unit grew in size.
Katherine’s eyes narrowed as she watched the saw vibrate in Alex’s hands. No matter how hard she tried to focus on the growing hole in the ceiling, those hands, so familiar yet changed, drew her in and she couldn’t look away. Then again, she was afraid if she took her eyes off his hands for one second, she’d be transfixed by his upper arms, flexing and tense, working to control the saw as it cut through the roof of the trailer.
She wiped her forehead with her shoulder. The man was handsome as sin, she had to admit, but he was also a mystery, and that felt strange since she’d once identified with him more so than anyone else on the planet. She’d been intimate with the teen-age Alex on multiple levels, yet she hardly knew the man he’d become.
Fate had been unkind, throwing them back together, but it couldn’t be helped. Katie was eyeball deep in this RV park project, and she knew she needed Alex’s help, but it was a bitter pill to swallow, considering their past.
Holding the roof panel so it didn’t twist as the opening neared completion, Katherine gritted her teeth and squinted behind her safety glasses as sweat rolled down the middle of her back. Any second now the pieces of roof metal and wood would give way.
How this whole working together thing could continue, she had no idea. Was she going to keep watching Alex, waiting for him to give in to the sexual tension sizzling between them? Because if that was the case, she just might implode. Or would she simply get it over with and throw herself at him? Finally just appease her tormented hormones, come what may?
With a groan of bending steel and a splintering crack of wood, the roof panel came loose. Katherine gripped it over her head in her gloved hands, careful not to cut herself, as Alex set aside the saw to help her lower the raw edged square of roof into the small trailer. With a sigh of relief, the couple made eye contact, sending sensual sparks flying.
Maybe Alex would get tired of working on the trailers, Katherine worried, watching his jaw clench. He must be sick of her worrying and obsessing over details, not to mention the unrelenting heat. She knew she could be cantankerous when she was overheated and stressed out. On the other hand, he wasn’t Mister Congeniality these days either. He’d much rather smart-off when things got serious, rather than have an actual conversation. Was it fair to expect her to forget what he’d done, just pretend it had all never happened? He’d been the one to dump her, after all.
Hometown Girl Again
COMING JUNE 2018
International Women’s Day, March 8, is a day to celebrate women's achievements, raise awareness, and to highlight gender parity gains. Parity is defined as: Equality, the state or condition of being equal, especially regarding status or pay. International Women’s Day is a celebration of how far we’ve come, as well as a chance to improve our situation.
Love on the Line, my fourth novel, is the story of a women’s struggle to find balance and equality in a career where women are rare; where her size and even her appearance, can derail what she hopes to achieve.
Andrea is fresh out of college, from a small town, and has never been away from home. Her estranged grandfather, Buck, offers her a job as his assistant engineer building a pipeline, and she jumps at the chance to try something different. But there’s more to the story. A long-standing rift has divided her family, and Andy is anxious to find out more about her grandfather and his job, without alienating her mother. She also doesn’t expect to be attracted to a coworker.
Our story as women isn’t about just our career choices, but also about being accepted, and balancing our work, our family, and our relationships. In the book, Andy, encounters plenty of resistance, but she also finds a way to contribute her unique point of view and keep a sense of her femininity, while becoming an accepted and valuable member of the team.
It’s fairly easy to find things we want to accomplish in this life, but being a woman throws us a different set of challenges, be that finding a bathroom, being smaller in stature, or even being denied positions of influence. So how do we cope, while still making progress toward our goals? We keep working at it! We offer our unique perspective and give a hand up to other women. We speak up and we participate, no matter who thinks we should not.
I hope on March 8th you celebrate the achievements of women world wide, as well as the women in your life. Take this day to see us ladies as a vital force in the universe, continually moving forward. Celebrate our unique abilities, and speak up and be heard!
And don’t forget to read Love on the line. :)
“That looks good to me,” Bobby said, tilting his head to one side. His breath wafted around him then was wisped away in the stiff breeze.
Chad pulled the rope tighter across the truck bed, wondering if he should make another pass across the Christmas tree for good measure.
“Seriously, I’m ready to go, it’s cold,” Bobby continued with his teeth chattering. “We’ve been out here for hours.”
Stepping back to survey his tie-down job, Chad scoffed. “It has not been hours.”
Bobby pushed up his thick glasses with the knuckle of his red index finger, offering only a sniff in response.
Chad decided the nine-foot tree was secure, so he motioned for Bobby to get in the pickup. Julia would be pleased that he’d found a nice tall, full Christmas tree.
Soon the truck was heading down the dirt road of the Christmas tree farm toward the highway. Chad glanced toward the little man in the passenger seat. “Are you warming up?”
Bobby shrugged and shifted in his seat, holding his fingers out to the heater vent.
Chad arched one brow and glanced both ways before pulling onto the highway. Bobby had been antsy all morning, something was up. “Who put a burr under your saddle?” he asked.
“A burr?” Bobby asked, scrunching his nose.
Chad shook his head, resigned to let Bobby be Bobby.
Finally the truck pulled up in front of the restored Victorian home that Chad and Julia called home. The passenger door flew open and Bobby jumped out almost before the truck came to a full stop.
“Slow down Bobby!” Chad hollered, concerned about the little man. But Bobby was already around the back of the truck untying the ropes holding the Christmas tree. By the time Chad put the truck in park and caught up, the ropes were a tangle of knots.
“What the—” Chad started, but he knew better than to expect an answer from Bobby. Pulling a deep breath in through his nose then blowing it out his mouth, he worked to remain calm. Bobby was definitely in fine form. Ready to try again, he took the tangled rope from Bobby. “Go on inside and see if Julia is ready for the tree.”
“Okay!” Bobby cheered, then sprinted across the snow-covered lawn, leaving deep boot prints behind him. With a clatter he was across the porch and through the door, dropping the gingerbread-trimmed screen behind him with a bang. “Miss Julia…” his voice rang from the house.
About the time Chad got the rope untangled and the tree freed, Bobby was back.
“She’s ready,” he wheezed, holding one hand to his chest as he gasped. His breath puffed around them like a cloud.
Chad opened the tailgate and motioned for Bobby to get the top of the tree, then he gave the trunk a good hard tug.
Misunderstanding Chad’s instruction, Bobby ran behind him to the other side of the truck bed, completely missing the top of the tree as it slid off the tailgate and onto the ground.
The jolt of the tree dropping to the driveway caused Chad to jerk to a stop and nearly drop the trunk end. “Bobby!” he bellowed.
“I got it, I got it,” Bobby cried, bending down, but he couldn’t seem to find a good handhold on the prickly tree.
Chad glanced over his shoulder, working to keep a hold of the weighty trunk. “What are you doing back there?”
Flustered, Bobby finally tugged the tree up from the driveway and tucked it under his arm. Wanting to make up for lost time, he hurried across the yard, passing Chad in the process, pivoting them to face the wrong direction.
“Bobby!” Chad thundered, clomping a hole in the snow as he spun, grunting and grappling with the tree truck.
“Sorry,” Bobby called, continuing his momentum to run a full circle around Chad until the older man was once again in the lead and they faced the house.
When they reached the porch, Chad paused to heft the tree up and head up the steps, but Bobby didn’t stop. Shoved from behind, Chad fumbled up the steps, barely managing to keep his footing and carry the tree. “Bobby, stop!” he thundered, bringing the other man to a stop just before the tree trunk rammed through the screen door. “What is the matter with you?” Chad shouted over his shoulder as Julia hurried to open the screen door.
“I’m cold,” Bobby grumbled, dancing from one foot to the other. “Let’s get this thing inside!”
Chad glance d at Julia and rolled his eyes, then gave the tree a solid tug to fit the fat bottom branches through the doorway. Bobby rushed in behind him like a caboose, and Julia closed the door.
Julia pointed toward one corner of the living room turned flower shop. “I have the spot all ready.”
Before Chad could take a step, Bobby rushed forward, causing the men to drag the tree over the back of the sofa.
Julia worked to cover her grin as boots shuffled on the hardwood floor and the men grunted and cussed, wrestling the tree back into position. In the corner, Chad bent to place the trunk of the tree into the stand Julia had prepared. Grunting and straining under the tree, he tightened the screws. "How does it look, is it straight?" his muffled voice called, and only his rear end showing under the branches.
The second the evergreen was upright, Bobby turned to Julia. “Can we have those cookies and hot chocolate now, Miss Julia?”
Julia grinned. “Sure, come on into the kitchen.”
Bobby let go of the tree and hurried toward the kitchen, gabbing excited to Julia about finding the tree.
“Bobby? Julia?" Chad called from under the tree…
Gloria pulled up behind the house and puffed out a long breath. Her shift at the spa had been a busy one and her feet ached like the dickens. Tugging her keys from the ignition, she shook her head, remembering Beatrice’s visit that afternoon. Lizzie’s mother had a way of dominating the scene.
As she stepped out into the chilly November evening, Gloria chuckled at the thought of Beatrice marching into the spa like a bomb hitting its target. The woman had the tact of a steamroller.
A gust of wind whipped a lock of curly red hair into Gloria’s face, making her shrug deeper into her coat and pick up her pace toward the house. No sleeping dogs obscured the back step tonight, she noted. Fergus must have let them in to sleep in the mudroom. “What a softy,” she murmured, shaking her head.
Cautiously she stepped in, navigated past the sleeping dogs, and closed the back door, keeping the creeks to a minimum. Tiptoeing, she headed through the living room and quietly opened her bedroom door. Snoring sounds came from her Grandfather's room across the hall, so she relaxed, relieved that she'd not disturbed his sleep.
In her room, she shook off her coat, then used one toe to pry the other heel from her winter boots. Dropping onto the end of her bed she huffed out another long sigh as she watched her stocking-clad toes wiggle, enjoying freedom from the heavy boots.
It was guilt-free crafting in her mind, because she needed a planner. It was practical. Unlike her card making, which had to be vigilantly controlled or the time and funds spent went wild.
She flopped back onto the bed to stare up at the cracked ceiling. Christmas was starting to pop up everywhere, like flowers in the spring. Soon the community would be eyeball deep in decorations and holiday activities. She loved Christmas and normally looked forward to the hubbub and chaos, but this year…
See more about the upcoming pageant craziness, along with a whole new Hometown Series romance in the novel Christmas in Smithville, coming soon to Amazon.
Lizzie opened one eye. Sure enough, faint morning light glowed behind the bedroom curtains. Careful not to wake Elliot, she stretched under the covers, dreading the cold outside her cozy bed. Too bad the farm animals didn’t understand weekends, she reasoned, she could use another hour of sleep.
Tentatively she reached one foot out from under the covers. Cold air raced up her ankle causing her to wince. Elliot snorted in his sleep and adjusted his pillow, and it took all Lizzie’s will power not cuddle up to his big warm back and go back to sleep.
Finally she sighed and counted to three, then jumped out of bed, danced across the cold floor, and raced to tug on her jeans. Moving as quickly as she could, she pulled a sweatshirt over her head and opened the door to head downstairs. She loved her old house, but winter mornings were definitely chilly.
In a daze, she started coffee in the old percolator, and once it was bubbling on the stove, she plopped down on the bench in the mudroom. Outside would be even more cold than upstairs, and she took in a deep breath, trying to collect strength to face the day.
The ancient sagging door creaked open, dropping a shaft of light into the barn. Ingrid, the favorite of her two alpaca’s, lifted her head and hummed good morning.
“It may be cold,” she mumbled as she reached for the pitchfork, “…but this is still my favorite way to start the day.”
One wheel of Tara’s cart at the craft store knocked rhythmically, thump, thump, thump, causing Isabelle to giggle and clap her chubby hands.
Tara shook her head. “Oh yes, this is great fun, isn’t it?” The baby grinned, showing her two new bottom teeth.
Ignoring the clanking wheel, Tara turned down the Christmas isle. Now that it was November she was on the lookout for decorating ideas. Filling the Bed and Breakfast Inn with cozy Christmas items was a favorite chore, and the endless options on the shelves made her pulse race.
She reached out to touch a plastic flocked pine bow. There had to be fifty to chose from, not an easy task. Finally she tugged a few from the basket, taking her time to separate them, careful not to knock any more glitter than necessary on the floor.
“Is that a no?” Tara chuckled. The baby fussed and arched her back, pushing at the cart handle. Tara put the decorations in her cart and turned to head toward the check out. “Okay, okay, I know you’re tired of this,” she soothed. “But someday you’ll love shopping here, I promise.”
The sewing machine hummed and buzzed and Gloria bent closer, watching carefully as she fed the fabric past the flashing needle.
“There!” she exclaimed in relief as she held up the child size dress. All she had left to do was the hem, and it would be finished. The old clock on the mantle dinged, announcing that she didn’t have time to waste, so she folded up the dress and tucked it into the box by her feet with the others. This was the last dress for the package going to the homeless shelter in Uniontown, and once she hemmed it, she could concentrate on Christmas sewing.
“Christmas pageant…” she muttered under her breath, worrying again about the upcoming gathering.
She'd heard talk that Smithville was considering a pageant to earn money for a new community center, and she was sure she’d be asked to make costumes. Although she loved sewing, it would definitely take a huge bite out of her own Christmas sewing time, not to mention shopping, card making, and baking time.
“Who am I kidding,” she huffed, knowing full well that she wasn’t bothered by the time it would take. It was the other women at the meetings that had her on edge...