Tag Archives: D.E. Haggerty
Romantic Comedy, Contemporary Romance
Date Published: January 11, 2016
Yikes! Walking in on my husband getting it on with his secretary was definitely not on my agenda for the day.
I’m having the suckiest day – ever. First, my father, aka Mr. Grumpy Pants, calls to say his nurse just walked out on him. Likely story. I rush home to pack, only to walk in on my husband having sex with his secretary. Gross. I can’t get out of there quick enough. I’ve got a plane to catch and a dad’s problems to fix. Dad’s problems are an easy fix. NOT. Thank my lucky stars I’ve got Danny, the neighbor boy I’ve had a crush on since I was a dorky, braces-wearing, nose-buried-in-a-book teenager, and a brand-spanking new blog to keep my mind off things. Before I know it, I’m writing product reviews of vibrators and getting questioned by a store rent-a-cop after the world’s worst date. All while trying to figure out how to take things with Danny to the next level. Not to complicate things or anything, but my boss decides to give me an ultimatum–come back in four weeks or don’t come back at all.
Choices. Choices. Choices. A scary new career that may cause me to fall flat on my face or return to my established position? And where does Danny stand in all of this?
A Coffee Date with the Police
Posted by: Molly Smith at 4:00 p.m.
Okay, I admit I assumed my first ‘real’ date in over a decade would be a disaster of epic proportion. I never thought—in my wildest dreams—that the next date would be even worse than that. What’s worse than epic? I have no words. Let me know in the comments if you think of a (mis)nomer that works.
Let’s back up a bit, shall we? Just how did Molly end up on another date after the ambush date? I call it temporary insanity. I let my best friend talk me into signing up for a dating website. I must have been completely out of my mind because I also agreed to go on two dates a week. Not enough craziness? I also agreed to blog about these dates. What have I gotten myself into?
Considering the ambush dinner date of last week, I decided to go for a coffee date with Harry. Not his real name, obviously. I’ve decided to use aliases for all my dates that start with the letter ‘H’. I once had a friend who named all her children with names that start with a ‘D’. I always did love alliteration, so I’m totally copying her on that one.
Anyway, my coffee date with Harry. I suggested we meet up in the coffee shop located in a bookstore. It’s a new bookstore I haven’t had time to explore yet. I figured if the date was a dud, I could always do some book shopping because everyone knows you can never have too many books.
The date started out really well. I had mentioned my addiction to lattes when chatting with Harry. When I arrived at the bookstore, there he sat with a fresh latte waiting for me. I’m not going to describe Harry’s physical characteristics because that makes me sound shallow. And now you all think he’s fugly. Well, he’s not. At least not on the outside. Wait until you finish reading to decide on the rest.
We drank our coffees and chatted for about fifteen minutes. Harry was funny with that dry humor that I love so much. My stomach rumbled after a while, and Harry suggested we head to the diner down the street for lunch. I thought it sounded like a great idea and readily agreed.
I should have realized something was off when he then hurried out of the store without waiting for me. I wasn’t expecting him to hold my hand or anything, but he could have walked out the door with me. Well, let me tell you, there’s a very good reason he took off like a rabbit in heat.
I walked through the exit and the security gates started to beep and the lights twinkle. I didn’t think anything of it. I’ve had plenty of security alarms go off by accident before. Being the good citizen I am, I immediately stopped and turned to the security guard rushing towards me.
He grabbed my bag and opened it. To my great surprise, he pulled out the book: Kama Sutra for Beginners. OMG! I don’t think I’ve ever been so embarrassed in my life. I made the incredibly stupid comment: “How did that get in there?” The security guard just looked at me and raised an eyebrow. Yeah, he’s probably heard that one before.
It didn’t take but a second for me to realize that there was only one way that the book got in my bag—Harry, Mr. Not-So-Nice-After-All. I immediately started to lie out of my ass. “Oops!” I may have even done a giggle at this point. “I must have forgotten to pay for that. Shall I just get in line over there?”
Nice try, Molly. The security guard shook his head at me and told me to follow him. He took me straight to the front of the line—because getting caught stealing the Kama Sutra wasn’t bad enough, I also had to piss off all the people waiting in line. But then he decides to find his voice, and he booms loud enough for the whole store to hear: “Caught this lady trying to steal the Kama Sutra.”
I tried to use my nonexistent magical powers to teleport out of the store, but, as I said, my magical abilities are nonexistent. Instead, I just stood there, turning so red my face could have probably lit up the store. I quickly paid for the book and got the hell out of there—escorted by the security guard, of course. I didn’t even bother to see if Harry was at the diner. I was afraid of what I’d do to the thief if I saw him in person. I rushed home and thanked the goddess that I’ve started stocking my bedroom with wine.
Whose idea was it for me to get back in the dating game, again?
About the Author
I grew up reading everything I could get my grubby hands on, from my mom’s Harlequin romances to Nancy Drew, to Little Women. When I wasn’t flipping pages in a library book, I was penning horrendous poems, writing songs no one should ever sing, or drafting stories which have thankfully been destroyed. College and a stint in the U.S. Army came along, robbing me of free time to write and read, although on the odd occasion I did manage to sneak a book into my rucksack between rolled up socks, MRIs, t-shirts, and cold weather gear. After surviving the army experience, I went back to school and got my law degree. I jumped ship and joined the hubby in the Netherlands before the graduation ceremony could even begin. A few years into my legal career, I was exhausted, fed up, and just plain done. I quit my job and sat down to write a manuscript, which I promptly hid in the attic after returning to the law. But practicing law really wasn’t my thing, so I quit (again!) and went off to Germany to start a B&B. Turns out running a B&B wasn’t my thing either. I polished off that manuscript languishing in the attic before following the husband to Istanbul where I decided to give the whole writer-thing a go. But ten years was too many to stay away from my adopted home. I packed up again and moved to The Hague where I’m currently working on my next book. I hope I’ll always be working on my next book.
Mystery, Cozy Mystery, Romantic Suspense
Date Published: August 20, 2018
What do you do with a diamond no one wants? You can’t keep it. Or can you?
While cleaning her ex-husband’s effects out of the attic, Terri finds an exquisite diamond pendant necklace. She’s determined to return the necklace to its proper owner, but the owner was brutally killed, a murder which remains unsolved, and her heirs want nothing to do with the diamond. Terri embarks upon a journey researching charities to which she can donate the diamond. When her research becomes dangerous, Terri contemplates solving the murder herself. Her best friend, Melanie, jumps feet first into investigating the murder, but her neighbor, Ryder, doesn’t want Terri exposed to any danger. Ryder, to Terri’s surprise, also wants to be more than neighbors with Terri. Luckily, he’s prepared to take any measure necessary to keep her safe because someone is determined to stop her inquiries.
Join Terri on her quest to find a home for the diamond, which may result in the unveiling of a murderer – if she survives long enough.
“How are we going to solve the murder if we don’t even know where it happened?”
“We are not solving the murder! How many times do I have to explain myself? I’m only trying to honor Jessica’s last wishes by finding somewhere to donate the necklace in her memory.”
“We are totally solving this murder.”
“Did you not read the part where she was shot to death! And the police have no fricking idea what happened?”
Melanie shrugged as if she knew people who were shot to death all the time. “We’ll be fine.”
“We? We are not doing anything. I’m the one who is doing this. We are not doing anything.”
“Fine. Fine. So, Ms. Patterson, what are you going to do next, hmm?” She raised an eyebrow, crossed her arms over her chest, and leaned back in her chair.
“I’m not sure.” Terri tapped her fingers on the table. There was a long pause before she suddenly sat up straight. “Where did the obit say donations were to be sent?”
Melissa pulled the obit up on her tablet. “Westside Soup Kitchen.”
“That’s it!” She snapped her fingers. “I’ve volunteered at that soup kitchen several times. I’ll just go check it out. See if they are a good candidate for receiving the necklace.”
“You volunteered at the same soup kitchen as Jessica? Maybe you met her and don’t remember?”
“No.” Terri shook her head. “I saw a picture of her at the Collins’ house. There’s no way I would have forgotten meeting her.”
“Maybe some of the other volunteers or even the homeless people will remember Jessica. You could ask them about her.”
“Stop trying to solve the murder!”
Melanie readily agreed she wouldn’t get involved in investigating the murder, but Terri knew better than to believe her.
About the Author
I grew up reading everything I could get my grubby hands on, from my mom’s Harlequin romances to Nancy Drew, to Little Women. When I wasn’t flipping pages in a library book, I was penning horrendous poems, writing songs no one should ever sing, or drafting stories which have thankfully been destroyed. College and a stint in the U.S. Army came along, robbing me of free time to write and read, although on the odd occasion I did manage to sneak a book into my rucksack between rolled up socks, MRIs, t-shirts, and cold weather gear. After surviving the army experience, I went back to school and got my law degree. I jumped ship and joined the hubby in the Netherlands before the graduation ceremony could even begin. A few years into my legal career, I was exhausted, fed up, and just plain done. I quit my job and sat down to write a manuscript, which I promptly hid in the attic after returning to the law. But being a lawyer really wasn’t my thing, so I quit (again!) and went off to Germany to start a B&B. Turns out being a B&B owner wasn’t my thing either. I polished off that manuscript languishing in the attic before following the husband to Istanbul where I decided to give the whole writer-thing a go. But ten years was too many to stay away from my adopted home. I packed up again and moved to The Hague where I’m currently working on my next book. I hope I’ll always be working on my next book.
Finders, Not Keepers is my thirteenth book.
I’m a total mess. My boyfriend dumped me – get this – because I diet too much. Not because I’m fat, mind you. Of course, this spurs me into the diet-fitness-revenge-plan of the century, which leads me to the gym and a scorching hot personal trainer. I even manage to make some cool new friends, including a millionaire if you can believe it. Things are looking up! Naturally, that’s the moment my ex decides he wants me back, the personal trainer asks me out, and my millionaire male buddy decides to throw his hat in the ring. But that’s not enough drama. No, not for me. Because I’ve also lost my job and decided to start my own business. Just call me Ms. Drama.
Warning: Bad language, bumpy roads, and embarrassing moments ahead. But there’s also more than a bit of romance and even, if we’re lucky, love. Fingers crossed.
Not endorsed by or affiliated with any brand of tequila.
“Am I dressed okay for whatever we’re going to do?”
Carter chuckles. “You look beautiful as usual.” He reaches over and pinches my chin. “You’re going to have to wait a little longer to find out what we’re doing today.”
I stick out my lower lip, and Carter bursts into laughter. He’s wearing another Star Wars t-shirt. This one with the words Who’s Your Daddy printed under a picture of Darth Vader. He looks like a twenty-year-old college student instead of a millionaire business owner.
“How old are?” I blurt out.
He sobers immediately. “Does it matter?”
“Since I’m not a MILF and would be labeled a cradle robber, yeah, it matters.”
Carter grabs my coffee and places it on the little table in the entryway before crowding me. I move backwards until I hit the wall. He places his hands next to my head, totally enclosing me. “Who says you’re not a MILF?” His lips are on mine before I can respond. His tongue demands entrance and who am I to deny him? I grasp his t-shirt between my fists and pull him even closer. One of his hands grabs my ponytail while the other one travels down my back until he reaches the top of my ass and he pulls me flush against his hard body.
“Not a MILF, my ass.” He slowly releases me, and I collapse against the wall trying to catch my breath. “I’m thirty-three. Old enough for you?” He wiggles his eyebrows at me. “Come on, let’s go.” He grabs my hand with one hand and my coffee with the other before pulling me out of the hallway.
I’m buckled up in his fancy schamncy sports car before I manage to catch my breath. I take sips of my coffee to calm myself down because that kiss… Well, let’s just say the boy can kiss. “I’m technically not a MILF because I’m not a mother.”
Carter chuckles. “Beautiful and cute.”