The Relentless American

Proceeds between now & 6/11/17 will go to Wounded Warriors from the sale of The Relentless American.Why? I want to honor all veterans and this is a story about love during the Vietnam crisis but is really about love in any war. Will you help me with this project? Clik here to purchase http://amzn.to/2rD6SZa Thank you.

sarinarostek-72dpi-1500x2000

Ramblings

Hi to my Amazing,  Friends, Fans, Girls, Women, Men, Cousins, Aunts, Uncles, Sister, Children, Grandchildren, Brother and Sister-in-Law.

Welcome to Ramblings

dsc_2344It’s already the middle of January. Winter is old for some inhabitants of Earth in the Northern Hemisphere.  Summer is in full swing in the Southern. Long days and short nights in the Antartic, South Africa, Australia, New Zealand, Argentina, and Chile.  Long nights and short days in Alaska, Sweeden, Norway, Denmark, Finnland and northern Canada and Russia.

Have you started working on your New Year’s Resolutions? I, for one, am still in the process of making them. I have to be honest I really do hate resolutions and goals.I never quite finish writing them down or starting them. However, this year because we had to join a gym, I have started getting my body into better shape. Walking the dog a quarter of a mile a date doesn’t make it. I am stiff and tired. So, I started yoga and Zumba classes. 

After classes, I am hungry and tired. If I sit down, I am liable to fall asleep.If I eat, I am liable to gain back the few ounces I lost in class. Not only that, but the dog is often lazy and doesn’t want to do the quarter mile. Never mind going further. 

                                                                Sarina and Furry Kids

              Me smiling and my two dogs. It’s the big one who gets lazy. Who knew?

I live in a subtropical zone which makes me smile most every day. The climate is perfect. The cold fronts from the north have not bothered me much, just a few cold nights. The beach is fabulous even if the ocean is cold. To top it off the sunshine is extraordinary. So I smile every day.

me-at-universal This is me with my cute hat at Jetty Pier with a smile.

Follow me and smile every day down to your very bones.

twitter @sarinarose2010

Facebook.com/sarinarose

http://www.sarinaroseauthor.com

My Books: Available at Amazon, Kobo, Nook, Smashwords and Apple IBOOKS

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Please leave me your comments.

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Hurricane Matthew

Hurricane Matthew  was our first hurricane since we moved to Florida in July of 2011.  We had no reference point for comparison and didn’t know what to expect since it was not like the snowstorms in New Jersey. Our neighbors told us that our respective houses were built well and we would weather the storm, though there might be some damage to our lanai and property

A friend on west coast in north  go invited us to safety there. Nice.  On the second breath they have a decorator house where you do not wear shoes inside and everything is in place. I could just see our big labradoodle running around on the carpet, rubbing his on his back, or snatching a throw pillow or two thinking it was a toy and shredding it. Needless to say, that sealed the deal; we were staying. The dog shelters were already filled.

Sarina and Furry Kids

On the Tuesday before the expected storm I decided to put up our storm shutters. Never having done it, I looked at the directions left by the previous owner. The windows were easy, but the back porch area was horrendous. First, we had to bring in all of the potted plants and ornaments. Then, the porch shutters had to go on in a certain order, but the previous owner mixed up is right and left. Each section had to be put up twice. Duh!

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Okay. We were set until our neighbor advised us about a safe room. A safe room? What the heck! We have a reinforced steel concrete block house! “Well,” she said, “if you lose the roof you need to be in a room that has no windows and is protected on top. Had to be our laundry room outfitted  with two comfy beach chairs, portable radio, quilt for the dogs, bowls, power bars, water, a bottle of 12 year-old Scotch and two glasses. Now we were set.

The storm was supposed to come in at night. Thursday evening we had Turkey Chile for dinner. (Keeping my healthy heart diet.) The table was set with a spoon and fork. I looked at the utensils and wondered which one to use. Somewhere from the ether I heard Obi-One say “Use the fork, Dude.”  Get it? He told me to use the fork. Then, I knew what I had to do. I imagined him telling me to use the force. So, I spent the next 6 hours meditating (now and then)

quoteson the storm moving east.

Well, whether it was luck or something else, we did not get a direct hit and woke up the next day to very minimal damage and the palm trees cleaned of all the loose junk we would have paid to have trimmed. We all were very fortunate.

submitted by Mark Rostek

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A Gift from The Relentless Italian

Go to http://www.women-read.com to buy paperback or ebook but first enjoy this excerpt.

I would love you to enjoy Sophie part of  Chapter I. It is not the first time Sophie and Tony notice each other, but the beginning of their relationship.

Chapter I –  Meeting Tony

The chimes of the doorbell broke the silence. I lifted to my arms the black yapping Cocker Spaniel running circles at my feet. “I’ll get it,” I called to my friend, Rosemary. It was not my house, but Rosemary was making the coffee for our study group. I looked out the leaded glass side panel of the door and held my breath. The relentless Italian from our senior class stood there in his black leather jacket. He leaned against the porch column. The very same relentless Italian who haunted my dreams and sent shivers to my liver with a glance at me. “Tony,” I said in a loud whisper. “What are you doing here? Are you following me?” I wished aloud imagining he would. “You would like, Sophie? Could I do for you? I would follow you, but I have business to settle in Italy first. Then I will follow you wherever you like, and you will fall in love with me.” He smiled and his blue eyes twinkled. This man excites me. He instigates sensual feelings deep inside me I do not often experience. The pit of my insides ignites into a fire not even an ocean cannot quench. His persistence is uncanny. However, his living on two continents is risky for a relationship. Business in Italy? What kind of business could it possibly be? He’s a college senior. I had a plan and he was not in my plan. I had veterinary school at Cornell in Ithaca, New York ahead of me. I had planned that since junior high school. I had been accepted. As determined as I was to become a veterinarian, Tony Andriosi surfaced as an enormous distraction. His sexy, almost shy smile, his gorgeous ocean blue eyes, his halfhearted pursuit fascinated me. Something about him attracted me. Did he always play hard to get and tease women with his come-hither eyes? I imagined doing naughty things with Tony Andriosi. However, I would never. My Catholic teachings prohibited sex before marriage and I was a staunch defender of that rule. I had made it part of my life. My faith would have been in trouble without my commitment and resolve. A sexual relationship was out of the question. Apparently, I was not in Tony’s plan either. He would return to Italy. He would be an ocean and a continent away. However, his eyes told me otherwise. They told me his plans were about to change. They told me he imagined us together, very close together, close enough to touch.

Share your thoughts with me,

Fondly,

Sarina Rose

Thoughts on VE Day

US military policemen read about the German surrender in the newspaper Stars and Stripes.

 

My Metaphysical Theory of Me: I am fascinated with stories of WW II. One of my theories about my fascination is maybe because I was born in 1942. Things were heating up in Europe. In France the Nazies separated 4,000 Jewish children from their mothers. The fathers had been sent away before then. The mothers were sent to one camp. The children were left alone to fend for themselves. In August all 4,000 were rounded up and shipped East to the death camps. I was born at the beginning of August, 1942. Maybe my soul belonged to one of them. 

My Blessing from WW II: My Father would have been a soldier in the U.S. Army, but after he was drafted he was discharged due to his flat feet. He was saved by his feet. Who would have thought flat feet was to be such a blessing. He was a barber and after being discharged, he gave free haircuts to every GI who walked into the shop. He stood on his feet for 8-10 hours a day and some nights could not relieve the aches. He is my WWII hero.  If he had not been discharged, I might not even be here. I would have been conceived and born at a different time and place.

Some Facts about VE day

Victory in Europe Day, generally known as V-E Day, VE Day or simply V Day was the public holiday celebrated on 8 May 1945 (7 May in Commonwealth realms) to mark the formal acceptance by the Allies of World War II of Nazi Germany‘s unconditional surrender of its armed forces.[3] It thus marked the end of World War II in Europe.

The term VE Day existed as early as September 1944,[4] in anticipation of victory. On 30 April 1945, Adolf Hitler, the Nazi leader, committed suicide during the Battle of Berlin. Germany’s surrender, therefore, was authorised by his successor, ReichspräsidentKarl Dönitz. The administration headed by Dönitz was known as the Flensburg Government. The act of military surrender was signed on 7 May in Reims, France and on 8 May in Berlin, Germany.

After regaining their independence from the Soviet Union, the Baltic countries now commemorate the end of World War II on 8 May, the Victory in Europe Day.[5] In the Ukraine from 2015, 8 May was designated as a day of Remembrance and Reconciliation, but it is not a public holiday.[1]

For the celebration in the former Soviet Union, see Victory Day (9 May).

Victory in Europe Day
Also called
  • V-E Day
  • VE Day
Observed by France, Czech Republic, Slovakia,[1] Latvia, Lithuania and Estonia
Europe (1945)
Significance End of World War II in Europe
Date 7/8 May 1945[2]
Related to Victory over Japan Day
Winston Churchill waves to crowds in Whitehall, London on the day he broadcast the news that the war with Germany was over.
Crowds gathered in celebration at Piccadilly Circus, London during VE Day in 1945.
The instrument of Germany’s surrender signed at Reims, France on 7 May 1945.
Final positions of the Allied armies, May 1945.
US military policemen read about the German surrender in the newspaper Stars and Stripes.
Britain remembers the 50th anniversary in 1995 with a Lancaster bomber dropping poppies in front of Buckingham Palace

Victory in Europe Day, generally known as V-E Day, VE Day or simply V Day was the public holiday celebrated on 8 May 1945 (7 May in Commonwealth realms) to mark the formal acceptance by the Allies of World War II of Nazi Germany‘s unconditional surrender of its armed forces.[3] It thus marked the end of World War II in Europe.

The term VE Day existed as early as September 1944,[4] in anticipation of victory. On 30 April 1945, Adolf Hitler, the Nazi leader, committed suicide during the Battle of Berlin. Germany’s surrender, therefore, was authorised by his successor, Reichspräsident Karl Dönitz. The administration headed by Dönitz was known as the Flensburg Government. The act of military surrender was signed on 7 May in Reims, France and on 8 May in Berlin, Germany.

From: Wikipedia.com

 Thanks for following me. You can leave your comments here of on my Facebook page.

Sarina Rose
The  Relentless Brit on Amazon http://amzn.to/1T8Xphm  A WWII Love Story of a British spy and a young American widow.
The Relentless Italian on Amazon http://amzn.to/1JhO7PG A 1960’s Love Story of an Italian Celebrity, and Veterinary student on two continents and an ocean apart.

Copyright © Sarina Rose 2016


www.sarinaroseauthor.com
Facebook.com/sarinaroseauthor
@sarinarose2010

Goodreads Giveaway = Free book

Goodreads Giveaway for THE RELENTLESS ITALIAN, “…a bearutiful love story’ , said InD’tale Magazine May/June issue

Click here to enter to win:.

What more can I say about this book to get you to read it? Oh, I know. I loved writing it. It remindes me of a more naive lifetime when I thought life was simple. Fall in love, marry, have children and live happily ever after in Italy.

Tony and Sophie are adorable, enticing, romantic, loving, sexy, and sometimes confused. Will all that plus living on two continents and an ocean apart save or dissolve their relationship.

Tony has friends in Italy, guys and girls. Marie, Concetta, Gianni and Nicco can be devastating  distractions from Sophie.

Sophie has friends at  Cornell Veterinary school. Sanja, Kate, Mary, Eric can take her from her love for Tony.

Will jealousy tear them apart?

Find out and read THE RELENTLESS ITALIAN. Selling at http://amzn.to/1JhO7PG

Sarina Rose

http://www.sarinaroseauthor.com


What the heck am I talking about?

I have a few favorite pastimes when I am not writing a new book or imagining that I am rewriting someone else’s story in my head.  I  like to do needlework. Work with needles. No, I am not a philbotomist or a nurse or a heroin addict. I like to knit. So you ask, what the heck does this have to do with a writer’s blog.

Actually, kniters probably use first language shorthand language long before texting and twittering were born. For instance, a typical instructions would include something like; ssk, dyo, k3 p3 short hand for slip, slip, knit, double yarn over,  knit three, purl three. I love that stuff. I get the hang of it. I used it muchas veces (many times).  It is very cool. However, I need an urban dictionary to decipher lol, lmo, btw and mucho mas (much more).

Example of knitting pattern directions written by the designer.
. Work k2tog BO loosely as foll:
Sl 1 pwise wyf, bring yarn to back, return
slipped st to left needle, k2tog (2nd st tog
with slipped st), *

See what I mean?

All this brings me to what dictionary.com sent me the word of the day. Although I do not think I have seen or heard it before. I knew the meaning immediately. What is up with that? What makes my brain work like that? Amazing. I love this word more than btw or ssk. Well, maybe just as much. I want to share it with you today.

esemplastic [es-em-plas-tik, –uh m-]

adjective
1.

having the ability to shape diverse elements or concepts into a unified whole:

the esemplastic power of a great mind to simplify the difficult
Origin of esemplastic
German
Greek
1810-1820
1810-20; < Greek es-, dialectal variant of eis- into + ( h) én, neuter of heîs one + plastic; irregular coinage by S.T. Coleridge; compare German Ineinsbildung, term used by Schelling
Dictionary.com Unabridged
Based on the Random House Dictionary, © Random House, Inc. 2016.
Cite This Source
British Dictionary definitions for esemplastic
esemplastic
/ˌɛsɛmˈplæstɪk/
adjective
1.
(literature) making into one; unifying
Word Origin
C19 (first used by Samuel Taylor Coleridge): from Greek es, eis into + em, from hen, neuter of heis one + -plastic
Collins English Dictionary – Complete & Unabridged 2012 Digital Edition
© William Collins Sons & Co. Ltd. 1979, 1986 © HarperCollins
Publishers 1998, 2000, 2003, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2009, 201esemplastic
/ˌɛsɛmˈplæstɪk/
adjective

1.

(literature) making into one; unifying
Word Origin
C19 (first used by Samuel Taylor Coleridge): from Greek es, eis into + em, from hen, neuter of heis one + -plastic
Collins English Dictionary – Complete & Unabridged 2012 Digital Edition
© William Collins Sons & Co. Ltd. 1979, 1986 © HarperCollins
Publishers 1998, 2000, 2003, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2009, 2012
Writers are intrinsically emplastic. We take many words and unify them into a story, or a memoir, or a movie. Another writer might take the exact same words. but write a different story. Writers transform the complexity of humanity and the world in which it function into an understandable form, a simplicity that makes sense of the complexity.
Does this make sense? Are you emplastic?  Do you want to be? What are your thought on writers being emplastic? Please share your comments. I love to read  them. BTW LOL
Sarina Rose on Amazon:http://amzn.to/1RySYwL

Looking for a New Book?

 Goodreads.com

A Good Place to Mingle with Authors and Readers

Honestly, I love to mingle with other authors and lots of readers. Goodreads.com is a place I often go to find books and authors I would like to read. I keep a bookshelf of ‘want to read titles’. Today I have over two hundred, but I have noticed some other readers have over a thousand. Whew! What about you? Do you have a stash of ‘want to read’ books?  Are they on a real, live bookshelf or a virtual one?

Goodreads.com is a great site for readers and authors to mingle and share ideas and words. If you are not yet a  member it is a good time to join and enter the giveaway contests posted by many different authors.

It is also a good time to join and enter discussion groups about books. Both readers and writers mingle here for fun and information.

I have a book Giveaway going on now. Just click this link to enter. https://www.goodreads.com/giveaway/show/181995-the-relentless-brit-the-relentless-series-book-one.

My books can be found on Amazon.com and I would be ever grateful if you would review one or both of my  books at:

The Relentless Italianhttp://amzn.to/1JhO7PG

The Relentless Brithttp://amzn.to/1T8Xphm

Thank you.

Sarina Rose,

Photo: Lynda Engler, author April 5 at 12:01pm · Burlington, NC, United States · Find Lynda on Facebook.com

 Copyright © Sarina Rose 2016

 

 

 

 

 

A New Romance from Sarina Rose

The Relentless Italian

An awesome vintage romance will captivate your heart and soul from beginning to end. Set during the late 1960’s the emotional rollercoaster of love takes Sophie and Tony from New Jersey, to Rome, to New York State and back again. Will two continents, an ocean and three mothers sent them in different directions? Will friendships dissolve? Will wedding bells ring?

This is a must read for all romance lovers.

Click here and buy now – http://amzn.to/1RySYwL

The Fourth of July

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The Fourth of July

Come with me and Celebrate

Celebrate Deliverance from Evil

Celebrate Forgiveness

Celebrate love for all, the cripple, the maimed and the insane

Celebrate love and romance

Celebrate war and hate, too, for how can we know who we are if not to see ourselves in others or to learn a lesson or to say

But for the Grace of God there go I

The Relentless Brit : http://amzn.to/1DUA8t6

 

Copyright © Sarina Rose 2015

Shameless Promotion for THE RELENTLESS BRIT

The Relentless Brit is for sale on http://www.smashwords.com

*BUY NOW*READ*ENJOY*LEAVE A REVIEW AT GOODREADS.COM*

THANK YOU

Use this code to receive a 33% discount. XA44V (not case-sensitive).Use it at checkout. sarinarostek-72dpi-1500x2000(25)Not interested in shopping at Smashwords.com? The Relentless Brit is also available at Kobo, ITunes, Barnes & Noble, Nook, Kindle, Amazon but no coupon. Sorry. I cannot figure out how to do it.

Not to be Missed

Who: Me

What: Don’t miss my answers to Richard Schiver’s Friday 5’s on the his website.  AND you may find some other interesting authors and books to appease your appetite to good books.

When: Friday, June 5th, 2015.

Where: http://www.richardschiver.com/p/fridays-five.html

How: Click the link

Why: Richard Schiver will feature me in his Friday 5’s tomorrow June 5th.

I would love you to click the link and see what’s we have cooked up.

http://amzn.to/1DUA8t6
Click and Buy Now:The Relentless Britsarinarostek-72dpi-1500x2000(25)

Bumbershoots Books

Mandalla maids

I have just open a site where you can easily find some of my favorite books ever. I will be adding to it from time to time and maybe even deleting some here and there.

So you like what I write. Now like what I read. Just click below to find what I’ve read and buy on the same click.

http://amzn.to/1FNtvd2

THE RELENTLESS ITALIAN

AH, wonderful excitement. The Relentless Italian manuscript is back from my editor. Just a few corrections and it will be off to be formatted.

I hope to have it to you by mid-summer. Now I have to get to work. Have a wonderful weekend.

Come back to visit with me soon to see the cover reveal update.

Welcome!

Hi there and Welcome to the very first post on my new site.

My name is Sarina Rose and I am a writer. My favorite genre at the moment is Historical Romance of Mid-20th Century. I  am guessing for most of you that would be the era of your grandparents or great grandparents. Maybe it is the era of your parents. You may meet them in my books if they had chosen a different life path. In any event you will have the opportunity to travel back in place and time. My books are time machines that take you on a journey to other continents and countries.

The Relentless American – excerpt

The Relentless American is about to be released as ebook. Look for it on Amazon.com. Start reading now with this excerpt. See if it whets your appetite for more about Hannah, Daniel, and Sal.

“No more blood!” the crowd chanted. It was June 1970. The television news cameras focused on unnamed faces. I held my peace sign poster high as I led a long line of war protestors east on New York City’s Central Park South. I glanced at the New York City Police Department keeping the peace, keeping us away from the two senators about to arrive for dinner at the landmark Plaza Hotel. We were sure their agenda focused on Vietnam, and we wanted to influence them to stop the bombings. We wanted them to influence Congress, the president, and Henry Kissinger who was at the peace talks in Paris.

“Will we make a difference today?” I asked my friend, Daniel MacIntyre, who had appeared at my side, but I was looking at Officer Sal Mendoza. He caught my eye.      He was one good-looking cop.

“Do you know Officer Mendoza?” I asked Daniel.

“I spoke to him at the last protest. Be careful with your attention, Hannah. He’s married.”

“Right. Thanks for the heads-up.”

Vietnam’s civil war had splintered the United States. The war divided families, friends, and classmates on its own tiny peninsula in Southeast Asia as well as in North America. It affected the military men and women as well as their civilian families. It took a heavy toll. The Vietnam War was a mammoth, frightening ogre who roared and raged over the United States. It had engaged most Americans, be they in favor or opposed. The ogre didn’t threaten the U.S. mainland or any of its territories, while it continued to endanger U.S. lives.The president continued to send troops to battle the communists.

Things were going smoothly at the protest until someone bumped me and I fell to my knees. I looked up. Officer Mendoza glanced at me. When Daniel reached down to help me, a woman tripped over him and smashed a bottle of thick red liquid on the pavement. She shouted, “No more U.S. blood!” Other voices joined hers. Soon, the chant reverberated throughout the circular drive in front of The Plaza. “No more blood! No more blood!”

A scuffle broke out as the police arrested the woman. One man tried to pull her away from an officer. Another officer grabbed the man’s arm, and both slipped on the slimy pavement. I tried to help, but someone stopped me. I turned and looked into the black opal eyes of Officer Mendoza. He marched me to the police van parked on the other side of the barricade. Another officer brought Daniel.

“They think I planned this, Daniel. Say something,” I called to him.

“You want me to say something? How about you? Go on. Speak up for yourself.”

“You’re the guy who has connections at the precinct.”

“And you’re the girl who wants to be an independent woman.”

“Later,” Mendoza snapped as he looked at me and led me van.

Daniel sat next to me. His knee leaned against mine. His shoulder followed. I knew Daniel. I knew his political and personal views on everything from high school curricula to marriage and raising children.

Sarina Rose
The  Relentless Brit
The Relentless Italian

website: www.sarinaroseauthor.com
Facebook.com/sarinaroseauthor
Twitter:@sarinarose2010
Blog: http://www.sarinarose.com

email: sarinarose2010@outlook.com

Your comments are surely appreciated so much so that I will send you free newsletter every once in a while if you submit on this form. Thank you.

Hollywood Award Season

Well, I am not all a twitter. I think this is all a rigged ball game to a large degree. It is all about how much marketing the actors, producers, directors, etc. do. Thanks, James. agree. We should have an awards ceremony for our military. I think they must, but of course it is not public. It is not a spectacular event. No evening gowns by top designers allowed. No uncovered boobs or butts. No hair designers.

Hurricane River Publishing's Blog

award-season-4

I’ll have you know, I’m so excited…I’m all a twitter! Why…you may ask. Well, we’re at the start of Hollywood’s Award Season! This is so exciting! I’m giddy with anticipation about all of the FREE advice I’m going to get from all of the STARS about how I should be living my life and how our leaders can govern better. I mean, I could be driving to Orlando and shelling out hundreds of dollars to attend seminars where rich people come out and tell me these things…but now, on the TV, I can sit there and listen to RICHER and way more FAMOUS people tell me this stuff FOR FREE! What a country!
Let me tell you, I’m ready! I bought a whole stack of yellow legal pads and seven new pens. I sat cross legged on a pillow in front of the TV and when Meryl Streep was…

View original post 370 more words

My Favorite Gifts

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From my title are you thinking that I am musing about favorite gifts I have received? To some extent I am. It is difficult to say or write the word gift and not think of the favorite ones that my favorite people have given me. Those came from the people I love, from my parents, my aunts and uncles.

I still have my favorite. It’s a picture taken of my Uncle Charlie in his Army uniform. He sent it with a dollar for my birthday during World War II. He looks handsome and young. I remember him that way. He never grew old for me. I do not even remember his hair turning grey or thin. I remember him on the beach reading his newspaper. He would take the train from Newark to the Jersey Shore.

But what do I love to give, you ask? Ah, I do love to give gifts, all kinds of gifts. My favorite for children under the age of twelve are books.All kinds of books, even magazines, like National Geographic or Highlights. Yes, and puzzle books: dot to dot or crosswords.Anne of Green Gables and Vampire books by Anne Rice for my daughter and granddaughters.

I loved to give my Mother jewelry and now I have some it. Nothings very valuable, but very sentimental. It seems I gave her two purple bead necklaces. I have both handing on a necklace stand in my bedroom. I also have a broach or two and a pendant. The pendant was given to her by her mother-in-law. I think it was an engagement gift. Now that I have a great-granddaughter, I am thinking of giving it to her

I have always loved to give gifts I make myself. I think I learned that in Brownies or Girl Scouts. We were always making something. One Christmas we sewed old Christmas cards together to make baskets. When in high school, we had a knitting club, Mrs.V. encourages us to knit socks. I made a pair for my Dad. I loved those socks. He did too, but I don’t think he ever wore them.  Arygles. A niffy tricky knitting pattern. My friend could never get the knack of knitting and has her socks still on the knitting needles.

I still knit.This year I made a white sparkly infinity scarf for a sort of grab bag party game, three boys scarves, a capelet and three fancy hats. Here are pictures of quilts that I have made and given as gifts.

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  What are  your favorite gifts to give? Do you make some? Bake? Buy? Upcycle?

Love you all. I praying you have a joyful Christmas, a Happy Hannaka and a peaceful New Year!

Sarina Rose      Sarina Rostek

Complimentary Audio Book

Dear Followers,

To honor Winter, I am offering you a complimentary Audio Book of The Relentless Italian. I will send you the code for Audible.com if you send me your email to: sarinarose2010@outlook.com 

 

sarinarostek-72dpi-1500x2000(9)

Marion’s Christmas Thoughts

I love the Christmas Season

from Marion Ambrose

 

There are many things I love about Christmas Season – the decorations and lights, the cookies and eggnog, the search for just the right gift for everyone on my list, the Christmas Carols in the stores and on the radio! I love all these things, but what I absolutely enjoy most about the holidays is the old classic Christmas movies that come on TV! I could pull up a chair on December 1st and watch these movies clear through until Christmas Eve!!!
I would start with my favorite, The Bishop’s Wife. Cary Grant, (sigh), is the most handsome, charming angel of all time! The combination of Cary Grant, David Niven and Loretta Young make this a magical movie!
Next, I would watch Holiday Inn. Love the music and dancing in that one! I especially love the farmhouse turned inn, and of course the SNOW! Keeping in the Bing Crosby mood, my next flick would be White Christmas. I do love Danny Kaye!!! Again, great music and dancing!
On to It’s a Wonderful Life with Jimmy Stewart. This is a holiday must see!!!! I even have an “It’s a Wonderful Life” Christmas village that was given to me by a dear friend. I look forward to putting it up every year.
Another great choice is Christmas in Connecticut with Barbara Stanwyck. I wasn’t a big Stanwyck fan until this movie. She’s funny and fresh in her role as a writer who specializes in cooking articles, when she can’t cook a thing herself!
And finally there are the 2 “street” movies. The first, Miracle on 34th Street had two versions. My favorite is the original with Natalie Wood, although the remake is pretty good too. The other “street movie” is It Happened on Fifth Avenue. It’s not the most “Christmassy” movie of the lot, but it’s very witty and clever.
There are lots of others I love to watch, but these are the ones I always think of when the holiday season comes along. I guess because they’re all nostalgic, sentimental and have happy endings. They speak of a simpler time, when things, like most of these movies, were black and white. Watching them is like giving your mind and your spirit a little vacation from reality. Each one is like unwrapping a lovely gift wrapped in festive paper. As the story unfolds, you find yourself more and more filled with Christmas Spirit.
So I think I’ll grab a bag of Pirate Booty (my favorite movie snack) and a Diet Coke and pop in one of these Christmas Classics!
Merry Christmas!!!

Guest Blogger Marion Ambrose is my friend. She is a terrific writer and a fabulous teacher, volunteer and active member of Melbourne Women’s Club and Friends of the Shield.

Thanks, Marion

Sarina Rose

The Relentless Brit
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U.S. Declared War-Pearl Harbor Bombed

The Relentless Brit

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Mare is a hometown girl from Fairvew, New Jersey working in her brother’s law office. She longs for adventure and travel. After a long night of talking with her brother and a British Spy Recruiter, Marie is on her way to spy boot camp on an overnight train from New York to Toronto. At a stop in up-state New York the news is the United States is at war, Japan has bombed Pearl Harbor. The game  is on. Does she have the courage and stamina to continue? Will she ever see her lover again?

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The Relentless American

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Part I – Daniel

Chapter 1

 “Hell no, we won’t go,” the young men chanted. It was June, 1970. The television news cameras focused on unnamed faces. I held my peace sign poster high and walked east on New York City’s 57th Street in front in New York City in the lead of a crowd of protestors against the war in Vietnam. I glanced at the handsome New York Police Department  keeping the peace, keeping us away from our two senators about to arrive for dinner at Park Avenue’s landmark Plaza Hotel. We were sure their agenda focused on Vietnam and we wanted to influence them to stop the bombings.

“Will we make a difference today?” I said to my friend, Daniel, but I was looking at Officer Sal Mendoza. I caught his eye and he stared into mine. He was definitely one good-looking cop. “Do you know that officer, Daniel?”

“I spoke to him at the last protest. Be careful, with your attention, Hannah. He’s married.”

Vietnam, a divided country, had split the United States into splinters. The civil war divided families, friends, and classmates on its own tiny peninsula in Southeast Asia as well as in North America. It affected more than the military men and women who were there. It took a toll on their mothers, fathers, spouses, and lovers. Vietnam was a mammoth frightening ogre. It had engaged most Americans, be they in favor or opposed. The ogre did not threaten the U.S. mainland or any of its territories. It did threaten U.S. lives in otherways.

Things were copasetic at the protest that night until someone bumped me and I fell onto my knees. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sal Mendoza watching me. Daniel MacIntyre reached to help me stand. Mendoza intervened after a girl tripped over Daniel and smashed a bottle of red thick liquid on the pavement. She shouted, “No more U.S. blood in Vietnam.” Other voices joined her. Soon the chant reverberated throughout the circular drive in front of the Plaza. “No more blood. No more blood.”

A scuffle broke out as the police arrested her. One man tried to pull her away from an officer. Another officer grabbed the man’s arm and both slipped on the red wet pavement. I tried to help him, but someone stopped me. I turned and looked into the black pearl eyes of  Officer Mendoza. He marched me to the police van parked on the other side of the barricade. Another officer had Daniel .

“They think I planned this, Daniel. Say something,” I called out.

“Me? How about you? Go on. Speak up for yourself.”

“You’re the guy who has connections at the precinct.”

”Later.” he said as Mendoza led me into the van and Daniel followed.

Daniel followed and sat close to me. His knee touched mine. So did his shoulder. I knew Daniel well. I knew his political views. He favored the U.S. involvement in Vietnam. He definitely did not belong here in a protest. I did. I had earned the badge of a peacenik. I favored withdrawing our troops immediately. He, on the other hand, he favored sending  more troops—Americans to crush the enemy.

“Daniel, the real enemy should stand up. It may be us—as in U.S.”

Although miles apart on pros and cons of the war, Daniel and I were friends. We had know each other since high school. We had our faith in common, but not much else.Financially we were as far apart as our views. He had earned a couple of million dollars selling his formula for natural baby soaps and lotions. I was a poor college senior. He was a Hawk. I was a Dove. I was a peacenik.—.  . a quiet peacenik.— nothing very radical. I adored the Berrigan brothers, but I was not courageous enough to burn draft records as they had. Daniel was …what? A guy who thought the war was justified. A man who kept watch over me. A man who had connections with the NYPD. A date for the Sophmore Tea Dance or the Senior Trip.

The wretched odors of sweaty bodies, dried blood, and plain old bad breath in the van shocked me back to reality. I held my hand over my nose and mouth. I looked around the van. I didn’t  recognize anyone except Daniel. Not a single familiar face. Where had my other friends all gone? Why weren’t they in the van too? Had they fled at the first sign of trouble? More and more protestors came to the rallies as the body count from the war rose every day. The dirty van windows block my view of the street, but I could hear the chanting resume.

“So, what are you doing here?” I asked Daniel through my fingers.

“Watching you. Hoping you don’t become a statistic of injured agitators.”

“Right,” I said rolling my eyes. Oh, for goodness sakes, I could barely do what I wanted without him next to me every time I left campus? I think Mother must have hired him as my personal bodyguard. She really likes Daniel. She likes him for me ….for my husband.

Daniel continued talking, “Yeah, like the song, give peace a chance?” he said and grimaced as if he had swallowed vinegar. “I say bomb the damn communists,” he said and then bumped his head against the metal wall of the van. He wanted to end the war with bombs and yet he sounded as sad as a child losing a pet. I felt more and more hopeless about ending U.S. involvement. My heart whimpered like an infant for our military personnel and their families.

“Oh, sure. Then what? Leave whoever lives over there to their misery? Or pay them off as we did Germany and Japan?” I said folding my arms and slumping on the bench. “And what about our guys? What will happen to those who come home without arms or legs, sight or speech? Who will mop up the mess we have here, Daniel?” I stopped talking. What was the point? I had tried to convince him repeatedly, but I failed. It was no use talking to him. He was complicated. Why was he here?

“Did Mother send you?” I snapped and immediately felt ashamed. After all, Daniel and Mother only wanted my safety. Oh right, and me for his wife. As much as his thoughts on the war intrigued me, and he was a great date, I was not ready for marriage to Daniel or to anyone.

“Well, not quite. I wanted to come see you and she told me where you’d be. Hannah, the entire peace movement is volcanic. It’s spewing flames. It’s ready to explode. Don’t forget what happened at Kent State just a month ago,” he said with a dour note in his voice.

“What could you do if I were in danger? If you were standing next to me, you would be in danger too,” I asked handing the kid seating on my other side a wad of tissues for his bloody nose.

“Would you know beforehand if danger were eminent?”

“That, my love, is confidential,” he said with serious downturned eyes and mouth. He could be so serious. I imagined Daniel looked like Michael the Archangel with a flowing burgundy cape and a sword of fire casting into hell the evil communists. He stared at me. His auburn beard contrasted with his cobalt blue eyes and made him all the more alluring to most women. Daniel’s handsome features and stance projected self-confidence. I loved that he was all that. I could distance myself from him in my mind, but not in my heart. We were enemies in my mind and dear friends in my heart. His presumptive attitude grated on me like fingernails on a chalkboard. Sometimes he ignited my insides.  I loved him in some ways and sometimes.

I turned my head to look at him. His eyes were closed. His jaw clenched. I imagined he thought the situation serious.

My anger surged. “Damn it, Daniel.You shouldn’t have come. I hate you watching over me. You and my mother. For goodness sakes, I’m an adult and I like to think you are my friend, but what kind of friend follows the other?”

“A good one, I’d say.” He opened his eyes and held my gaze hesitating before he spoke. Then said, “You’re lovely, you know. Beautiful, actually. I enjoy following you. Damn, Hannah, even though you drive me crazy. What do you think about a kiss right here, right now?”

“I think you’re nuts. A kiss? Is that what you said, kiss me? Here in this stinking van?” I asked in a husky whisper like a panting puppy. “Are you crazy? I can barely breathe never mind kiss you.” I said. I licked my lips and tasted the vile air. Kissing was out of the question. Besides Officer Mendoza was watching us in his rear view mirror. Hannah, what do you care if Mendoza is watching?

A kiss from Daniel would be nice some other time, when he stopped coluding with my mother about marrying me.He attached the words like love and marriage to kisses. I’ll not have a gold band, yet. Maybe later, but not now, not before I gained some independence, live on my own, experience life after college.

“Kiss me,” he said again.

***

Hannah said, “Daniel, stop it. You’re depraved. We’re in a police van.  .  . not on the Pocono Honeymoon Express to Pennsylvania.”

I looked away from my childhood friend who had grown into a beautiful young woman. She was small, graceful and full of live. Her slim frame showed off the strength of a ballerina. She had her father’s dark walnut brown hair and eyes. Her dark eyebrows arched perfectly outlining her pale complexion.

Hannah and I had been friends since high school. Although she was three years younger, I couldn’t resist talking to her. We became friends in Drama Club when she played the Scarecrow and I the Tin Man in a production of the Wizard of Oz.

“Hannah?”

“ What?” she asked with a sharp tongue.

“Would you come with me on the Honeymoon Express?”

“Ha, you know the answer to that, Mr. MacIntyre?”

***

 

I turned away from Daniel and glanced at the other people in the van. Most wore jeans and T-shirts … some with peace symbols, one with a washed out slogan I couldn’t read. A girl had the word peace painted on her forehead. One fellow had a tattoo that said Draft Dodger and Proud of It on his muscular bicep. Another girl’s eyes bugged out of a skeleton face. No doubt high on PCP. The boy still held the tissues to his mouth. We jolted against each other. I winced when the kid bounced against my sore arm where a week ago a policeman’s grip had left an unsightly black and blue handprint.

I closed my eyes and imagined the gloom of the van quite transform to bright light. The walls expanded, the roof rose high above our heads letting in the golden sunlight and bright blue sky. A cool breeze refreshed my hope the cops would release me as soon as we arrived at the station. I hadn’t done anything illegal. I smiled as Sal Mendoza, the officer who had rushed me into the van, reached over and touched my arm. He said, “Don’t worry. We’re just keeping you safe.”

I blinked and looked at the grey walls of the van and the low ceiling. Why imagine Sal Mendoza would help me? He hadn’t said anything to me to make me think so. I was just another protestor to him. Weird that I imagined him touching me. The reality was he had not said much to me at all. He just looked at me with his black opal eyes.

The putrid air in the van invaded my lungs and must have played tricks on my mind. My nerves chewed at my brain. I should have been used to an arrest. Still my guts wrenched. One never knew who would be a cell mate. I passed my eighteenth birthday four years ago; the police would not call Mother. I would have to get out of this myself.

* * *

After we pounded through potholes and the evening crowds in the City’s Midtown North Precinct on 54th Street. I sat on the stained bunk mattress with my knees to my chest and leaned against the damp cold wall. The cell atmosphere was a step from the van. Somewhere an air conditioner sent in cool air. I spent the long hours of the night with eyes open, chewing bubble gum, and listening to my cell mate enlighten me on cock rings and lubricants. She definitely knew her business. “If you want, I’ll talk to Albert. He is always looking for new pretty girls. You’re pretty enough. You know how to fuck, right?”

“Umm, thanks for the offer, but no thanks. But nice of you to think of me.”

“Don’t you like men? You know, we sometimes, come ‘cross women wanting women. Know what I mean? Me, myself, I enjoy men.”

“You enjoy strange men? Are you saying you enjoy sex with strange men?”

“Not all are strangers. I have many returning gentlemen. They like what I do. Sometimes they are fun. You know, crazy fun. Yeah…sometimes.”

“Aren’t you afraid some guy will rip your guts out for fun?”

“Well, Albert is always outside the door to help. He listens and looks through the key hole. He’s my protection.”

“Oh, right,” Unbelievable. Her name was Dolly. She looked my age. Her skin was the color of cream. Her curly blond hair …clean. Her make-up was Fifth Avenue. A middle class escort for middle class men . A dubious and dangerous profession.

I heard a male voice call, “Hannah O’Brian.” I stood when Mendoza unlocked the cell. “Your bail’s been posted, honey. You are free to leave. Sign your papers at the front desk. Officer Stevens here will escort you,” he said and smiled at me. He was a handsome dude. Small hips, tight abs and a perfectly proportioned chest for his stature.

“Thanks, Mendoza,” I said. I grabbed my sweater from the bunk. I stood in front of him for one long moment. Something about him caught my imagination.

Mendoza had delightful black eyes with flecks of silver. Needless to say, he attracted the looks of more than one woman, but the gold band on his left hand halted most of us. Except Dolly. She asked him if he wanted her number.

“Dolly, Dolly, Dolly. Won’t you ever stop asking?”

“But Sal baby, I am in love with you,” Dolly purred at Mendoza. He ignored her.

“Listen, sweetie,” he said to me, “stay out of trouble. This is what? The third time you’re here? The judge won’t like that, you know. She won’t be nice. Charges of disorderly conduct have been dropped.”

“Thanks. Is my mother outside? ” I asked as I put on my sweater.

“Not that I know. I did not see a mom out there.”

“Do you think she’d see my picture on the news. Was I on the news?” God I hope not. Ho would my future employer take that?

“No. Why? You don’t want to be on the news…bad for your career or something?” he said and looked at his clipboard. “Daniel MacIntyre is here for you, sweetie. Okay, now go. I have work to do and I don’t want see your ugly face here again,” he said while he stared at me. I held my breath. His eyes bore into me and I looked away. His black hair curled around his ears like Cupid’s. His sideburns emphasized his beautiful cheek bones. His is wedding band shone in the dim light.

 He’s married.

I smiled at Mendoza and walk out the door following Officer Stevens.

Daniel waited for me talking to the desk sergeant. I spotted him before he saw me. His hair reached his collar and he wore a clean shirt, jeans, and a sport jacket. I guess he hadn’t stayed in jail overnight. His friends in the precinct must have helped him.

“Thanks for leaving me in jail, Daniel,” I said weakly. I had only a split second to see him grimace before he took may arm and moved me outside into the sunshine.

I said. “You left me overnight, Daniel. Were you teaching me a lesson?” I said and pulled away from his grip. He smiled, but what he said next, belied his features. Which told the truth, his smile or his words?

“Why would I leave you? Hannah, I did the best I could. You’re out now aren’t you. That’s what I always do, isn’t it?” he said and squeezed my arm. “I’m getting tired of it, Hannah. Aren’t you?” he said like a man who knew the answer. A scowl marred his face. He squinted against the sunlight, turned the corner and ushered me towards his car.

“No, not tired. Frustrated yes, but not tired,” I sighed. A band of sadness wrapped around my heart and twisted. I wished Daniel would think more as I did. I felt alone, isolated and as separate from him as heaven from hell. Could ideas separate two people as much as physical distance?

He stopped and turned towards me. Whenever he looked at me that way, a piece of the ice surrounding my heart melted and trickled straight to my center. I had never felt it with any other man except Mendoza with the gold band. Daniel had a big heart for me. I loved that about him, but I didn’t dare tell him. He would hear wedding bells, but I had some things I wanted to do walking down the aisle. I wanted to be independent. Did I love him—love him enough? I did not have to decide today.

“Hey, are you alright?” Daniel said.

“Yes, of course I am,” I said looking away from him at the city traffic. “What could be wrong?”

“Come on, then, let’s go. You still have to get to graduation.”

* * *

“Hannah O’Brien, Bachelor of Science, Clothing Design, Academic honors,” the president of Holy Rosary College announced. I walked across the stage of the Greek Theater to receive my degree. The hot May sun beat on the black mortarboards. I was glad I wore shorts and a tank top under the academic gown.  I wore a black armband …another protest against the war. The ceremony was going to be a short one to honor the Kent State victims.

“Hannah, what are you thinking?” Brenda said as we stepped in the line of black mortarboards to our seats. “Daniel or Vee?” She sat to my left. Sunlight glistened off the perspiration on her tawny skin. Her beautiful full lips covered her perfect white teeth. Her mortarboard perched on her Afro like a bird. Her cheek bones and jaw line  were perfectly angled. Brenda was five feet ten inches tall. I thought she should be a model. She would be a journalist. She had been my roommate for four years and I loved her like a sister. I would miss her.

“I am thinking Daniel is here today with my mother making wedding plans. I’m nauseous thinking about Daniel and Mother together. All they think about is getting me married. Don’t they know it was 1970. Women don’t marry right after graduation anymore.”

“I thought you liked Daniel?” Brenda said. “You’ve known him long enough. You see him often. Damn, you sleep with him. Marriage is the next logical step, you know.”

“No, not for me. I like Daniel. He is a good friend. I am not ready to marry anyone. Maybe someday, but now? No, I can’t marry Daniel. Something is telling me not to. Call it intuition.”

“Right,” she said dismissing me. “Hannah, Daniel loves you. He is rich …career rich, owns an apartment. You have zero money, a rented room in St. Agnes’ Women’s Home where he can visit you in the common living room. What’s not to marry?”

“Maybe I should just move in with him? That is, if he moves to the city. I want to live in the Big Apple.”

“Oh, I’m sure. Mrs. O would love that,” she said. Mrs. O being my mother. M traditional, old fashion mother.

“He is relentless. I should be flattered, but moving me into his apartment at the east tip of Long Island and getting a priest is not what I have in mind,” I whispered under the voice of the President of the College on the loud speaker.

“Hannah, I completely do not understand your point,” Brenda whispered. “I’d be happy with Daniel if I were you.”

“Really, you would get married now? You of all women! There is no shortage of men for you.” I took a long thoughtful breath before saying, “Okay, take him,” I sighed. “He’s all yours. Keep him.”

“Sorry. I asked him. He’s not interested.”

“What?”

“I’m teasing,” she said amused at herself. She wiped her neck and throat with a hankie.

The heat in the well of the amphitheater overwhelmed two graduates who had to be helped out. The little white clouds floating in the face of the sun did not provide enough relief.

“I’m happy with my career beginnings in New York City and I have a place to live.”

“I hope I get a job,” she said. “I need to quit waitressing. The long nights wear me out. It’s difficult to think the next day.”

“Faith, girlfriend. You’re good at scooping out new leads and reporting. There’s a lot going on in the world that needs telling. You know, you should interview Daniel. I can just see the headline: Army Reservist in Favor of War. Maybe you could gather info together for a story of young men who support the war. That would be a new angle.”

“Sure would.”

“Shush.”

We bowed our heads for the benediction, stood a moment in silence to honor the victims of the Kent State shooting, and said farewells to our classmates. “Call you soon.” I kissed Brenda on the cheek. “Congratulations, girlfriend.”

“Same to you, Hannah. I am going to miss smoking on the fire escape with you,” she chuckled.

“Me too,” I said.

***

I spotted my Mother with Daniel. She was the most beautiful woman in the audience in her sleeveless pink scoop neck sheath. Pink set off her fair translucent skin and her strawberry blond hair. Pearls showed off her slim neck and her wide brimmed hat shaded her blush pink freckled face.

I handed Mother my degree and said, “This is yours too, Mom. You were the best cheerleader. Thank you. I would have left school a thousand times if you weren’t there with me all the way.” I hugged her. She planted a dark pink lipstick imprint on my cheek. Then she wiped her thumb across the stain.

“You too,Daniel. You helped me with those term papers. Hmm, I see you made a friend,” I said and nodded to the young dark haired woman standing next to him. He never moved without women eyeing him. Broad shouldered, small waisted, a butt most women would die to caress.

He glanced at her over his shoulder. “No, definitely not my type.”

“She must be available. She drooled over you a minute ago and her eyes wept silver tears when you responded,” I teased.

“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” he said and kissed me on the nose. “Congratulations, Hannah.”

He gave me a hug and whispered another congratulations in my ear.

Mother eyed him over the rim of her sun glasses and smiled before she opened her purse and took out a small pack of pink tissues to blot her tears. Wasn’t that just like Mother to make sure everything was color coordinated? She loved fashion with polish. She always had and my father had adored it. Now her baby girl, me, their only child, was all grown and leaving the nest. Of course, in my mind I had left four years ago for college, however, she did not think that way.

“Awh, easy Mom, don’t cry. You’ll ruin your mascara. Today’s a milestone .  .  . like pre-school . .  . high school .  .  . Just another step. This is what we’ve always wanted, right? This is why we worked so hard. You must be the proudest and best mother here.”

“Yes, baby,” she said. “You will be on your own next week. God bless you, Hannah. I love you, darling.” She hugged me again. Then she smoothed her dress. Nothing she could do about my shorts and tank top. I was child of the times. My entire wardrobe consisted of jeans and t-shirts and some shorts. I had one business suit I used for job interviews. I had to buy a skirt or two for work. That was true.

She reached into her Aigner purse. “Here’s something for you,” she said and handed me an envelope. “Cash to help start off until your first pay check. Next week you will have to feed yourself.”

“No, Mom, no. I can’t take this. You’ll need it. Please, save it for yourself. You have done enough. You don’t have much left after tuition and Daddy’s funeral expenses. Besides you paid my first month’s rent. I have money I saved some from my job.” I pushed the envelope back into her purse.

“Mrs. O. I have all we need,” Daniel insisted and winked at her with the tiniest bit of a smile.

I glared at him without a smile knitting my eyebrows together and squinting. What the hell? Suddenly he became a presumptive, confident bore. He has all we need? Humph, really? Well, good for him.

“What?” he mouthed back at me.

He never falls short of optimism, that’s for sure/ He mentioned marriage during the past year and I said “not yet. Didn’t he get it”? Besides, opposites like a war Hawk and a peace Dove did not make for a good marriage. Hawks eat Doves for breakfast.

Mother spoke to Daniel, “You are a sweetheart in capital letters, darling. Thank you. Come on, you two. Let’s get out of this blasted heat and go to York’s for lunch.”

I wrinkled my nose. “This is a celebration and York’s is the dreariest place on Long Island. Why not Sorrento’s? You know I love it there.” I whined. I was a selfish little thing. Mother and Daddy gave me everything I wanted. “Okay. I like York’s as well,” I said. I must be maturing.

“Come now, darling. I am starving, and besides I have a surprise there for you. Daniel, my love, lunch is my treat. No shenanigans about the bill, please.” I locked arms with Mom and we walked to her car. Daniel walked towards his.

Damn. Daniel talks as if we made plans together. No, definitely not. I certainly had not agreed to anything beyond dating. Had I lead him on? I would stop immediately, God, help me. Maybe I could have Sal Mendoza arrest him for a few months. Wasn’t there something we could charge him with?

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