Hi everyone —

Please welcome my second guest in Super Pal Week, my friend, the great Lynn Lorenz. Lynn is one of the author’s who convinced me to become a novelist — her writing was so inspiring. And it still is every day. Lynn has an amazing gift for us — a nibble from her upcoming book, Bayou’s Children. If you’ve been following this series as i have, you’re going to eat this up! Plus, Lynn has a great announcment. Here she is —

Goal Reached! By Lynn Lorenz

Those that know me, know I love to set goals. For New Year, I don’t do resolutions, I set my goals for the year. I have long term, mid-term and short term goals.  And this February, on Valentine’s Day, I finally met my long term goal, one I set about 4 years ago.

I retired. Quit my day job. Shoved it.

From now on, I’m writing full time. Birds sang. Rainbows appeared in the sky. Small woodland creatures danced and cavorted. Okay, not really, but it sure as hell felt that way. I’d stuck with it, worked hard at my job, and lasted. Thirty-one years. 8 layoffs. 2 mergers. And too many reorganizations to count. I can’t tell you how many times I left work, swearing I’d never step a foot back in there, only to vent to my husband, go to bed, and get up the next morning and go back to work.

Because I had a goal, even back then, and that was to retire. I was working for that pension and nothing, not corporate crap or bad managers, was going to cheat me out of it. I’d seen my parents end up with nothing, because my father jumped jobs and never accrued a pension. My mom only worked part time. Those were the days of thinking social security would take care of you. At least I had the good sense to think, hey, I’d better take care of myself. So I stayed, took the crap, and now, 31 yrs later, I was able to blow a big Valentine’s Day kiss-off and walk away. With one week’s notice and my pension.

Because my goal of writing full time depended on me sticking to it. Without that pension, I wouldn’t be able to do it. I could quit, but I’d have to get another job, putting me right back in the thick of it. And without my husband, who stood by me, cared for our kids, let me lean on his shoulder, listened to me bitch about my bosses, and then tell me, “Hey, if you want to leave, I’m behind you.” Thank God for him and his support. So when I came up against another crappy manager, and my health was going down the toilet, and my writing had slowed to a creep, he was the one that jumped first.

He said, “I’m going to retire today. What are you waiting for?” See, he’d been working a bit, and last year, it just seemed like it wasn’t worth it financially. We’d been looking at my pension, figuring things out, and somehow, he knew me. Totally knew I wouldn’t go unless he showed me the way. That is was okay. When he asked me that question, I didn’t have a good answer.

So, I went to work that Monday, typed up my resignation letter, and sent it off to my manager and HR at 6:15am. And I haven’t stopped smiling since.

So…what has this to do with my new writing life, you may ask?

Plenty. I’m in edits for a re-release book under my new Theodora Lane name (het romance) and am halfway through the next Bayou book. The next in the WereWolf Fight League is up and so the next in my Locke and Blade series. I have a re-release of The Ambassador’s Daughter, through Taliesin Publishing coming out in March (het romance).

I’ve got time to work on some promo – for RT, RWA and GRL – stuff I’m hand making to give out. With my husband’s help I’m going to try to do some print books of my Theodora Lane stuff for RWA. I might not be doing more promo as such, because I want to dedicate this year to writing, so don’t look for me to suddenly burn up the Twittersphere.

And in between all of that, I’m taking a few well deserved naps.

So, I thought I’d give you just a snippet of the latest Bayou book…Bayou’s Children. To tease you. It’s in progress, not finished, unedited, and rough as hell, but why not? For those of you who don’t know this series, it’s called The Rougaroux Social Club, set in Cajun south Louisiana, in the little town of St. Jerome. My wolf pack is hiding in plain sight, and they operate under this club. The first book is Bayou Dreams, then Bayou’s End, and third is Bayou Loup. This will be the fourth, but not last, in the series.

This is how Bayou’s Children starts…

“Don’t look at me that way, cat.” Darlene Dupree scowled back at the black cat sitting on her porch, blocking her way to the stairs.  She pointed the cigarette she held between two fingers at the animal. “I’ve got some praying to do and if you think your skinny, furry ass is going to get in my way, you haven’t met my broom yet.”

The cat blinked at her, stood, stretched and padded over to the side and with a swish of its tail, leaped up on the porch railing.

Darlene looked out into the dark of the night. Multitudes of stars filled the sky along with the full moon. A perfect night to ask Jesus for a miracle. She went down the steps and with a final inhale of nicotine, she dropped the butt on the ground and crushed it with the toe of her fuzzy pink slipper with Princess embroidered on the top.

She switched on her flashlight. The cat jumped down and followed Darlene, weaving in and out of her legs as she made her way across the gravel drive and toward the swamp. No matter how hard the cat tried, it couldn’t kill her. Darlene was too tough an old bird to be taken down by a mere cat.

“Get away from me, cat. Go find someone else to feed you.” She kicked at it, but the feline stepped just out of her unenthusiastic attempt. If she ever figured out who sent this animal to ruin her quiet life two years ago, she’d have their hide.

She reached the line of cypress trees and stopped. A narrow path between two trees led into the darkness of the swamp. The cat sat, licked a paw and watched her.

“I’ll be back in a while. Don’t be here when I do.” She huffed at the cat and then headed down the path to her special spot next to the bayou.

In a few minutes she emerged from the trees and into the small, hard packed dirt opening. The moonlight bounced off the dark waters of the swamp. A fallen tree trunk lay across the far end, next to the bayou.

Darlene waddled over to it and knelt. Along the top of the tree stood a line of glass candles, most of their contents had melted down, each with a different picture of Jesus, Mary, and the Holy Spirit painted on them.

But those weren’t what Darlene reached for. No, she leaned over the trunk and dug around with her hand, scrapping dirt and leaves away, until her fingers hit wood.

With a soft aha, she lifted it out and placed it against the tree, leaning it so she could see it in the beam of her flashlight.  With the corner of her apron, she wiped the dirt off the rough circular shape of the wood, formerly part of the tree standing near St. Jerome Catholic Church’s parking lot. In the growth rings of the three inch slice of old oak, the image of Jesus looked back at her.

Darlene sat back on her heels, made the sign of the cross, put her hands together, closed her eyes and began her prayers.

“Dearest Jesus. It’s me, Darlene Dupree. I need to ask you a big favor. It’s not for me, it’s for my boy, Scott. Remember I told you about him and his…” Darlene searched for the right word “partner, Ted. Well, Scott’s always wanted kids. I’m not so sure about Ted, but he loves Scott and if Scott wants kids, then Ted does too. I’m pretty sure.”

Jesus stared back at her without answering.

“So, I know they’re not your usual couple, seeing as they’re both men. “ She cleared her throat. “But Scott’s been a good cath-o-lic all his life and this gay thing, well, it just happened last year. It’s all my fault, Jesus. I made a prayer to bring Scott a mate and I forgot to say a woman. You sent him Ted.” She shrugged. “Well, you know the rest and far be it from me to question your ways. Now, I just want my boy to be happy.” Darlene clasped her hands tighter. “And I’ll confess, I’d love to have some grandkids. But Scott and Ted, they need this. Scott needs this.”

She opened her eyes and squinted at the image of Jesus. She wasn’t sure Jesus believed her about this being for Scott and not just for her. But she only had her son’s best interest at heart. And with this new pope, well, times were changing.

“Please, if you can, bring Scott and Ted some kids. Babies, kids, even a teenager, Scott won’t mind. He’s got a lot of love in his heart and he’ll be a great dad. And Ted, he’ll be a great—“ she searched for the right thing to say—“dad too. Kids need at least one parent and I know there’s kids out there who won’t care if they get two dads.”

Darlene sighed. She crossed herself. “Please, Jesus. You know I only ask for things for other people, not for myself. Do this, for my boy. In your name, Amen.” She scooted forward on her knees, lifted the section of tree and replaced it on the other side of the trunk where it would be hidden. After scraping the dirt and leaves back, she brushed off her hands and stood.

Her work for the night was done. Last time, it took her about three full moons—three months—praying to Mary for it to work and all she had was a candle, a gris gris bag of Scott’s hair, and a dead cat. She hoped it’d take less time with Jesus. It should, since he was the son of God. Mary had only been God’s wife. Sort of.

Darlene turned and made her way back down the path toward her little house on the bayou. At the end of the path, the cat sat, tail wrapped around its legs, waiting for her.

“Damn it! Why are you still here?” She pulled out a cigarette and lighter from the pocket of her house dress and lit up. Taking a deep drag, she glared at the pesky animal.

It licked a paw, showing its indifference toward her. Which only pissed Darlene off even more.

“Don’t think you’re coming inside tonight. I don’t care if it’s hot as hell out here. It’s south Louisiana. Get used to it.” She spit to the side, for emphasis.

The cat stood, came over to her, and rubbed against her legs.

With an exasperated “Merde,” Darlene headed to her house, the cat following.

_______________________

Lynn Lorenz’s books can be found on Amazon, and on her website http://www.lynnlorenz.com

She’s on Facebook and rarely on Twitter. If you want to join her newsletter, just go here

http://eepurl.com/OOGDH  to sign up.