Friday, August 2, 2019

Somthing's Wrong

Hi all,

I don't know what's wrong with me.  I can't write.  I can't even read anything.  It's not that I don't know what to write, I know exactly what's going in this next chapter. But every time I sit down to write something, I'm just not interested.

I apologize.  Hopefully, I'll work myself out of this - someday.
Karen

Wednesday, July 24, 2019

Curl Up and Die


Hi Everyone,

Well, it’s finally out there.  Finally!  Book three of my "Jenni …with an i" series is finally available on Kindle books – Curl Up and Die.




I wound up having to create my own cover, so it’s not at good as a professionally made one, but at least the book is now available.  If my cover guy ever decides to get back in touch with me again (I really don’t know what happened to him.  It’s not like him), I’ll probably change it out for a better one.  But at least you can finish the story now.
 
So…what’s this book about?  Well, of course it finishes everything started in both books one and two, but here’s the “official” blurb for it:


Jenni, Jenni, who’s got the Jenni?  The terrorists are engaged in the worst string of terrorist attacks in history against the United States, and the only person who seems to be able to do anything at all against them is Jenni.  But as far as Jenni can see, the FBI doesn’t want her help.  To make matters worse, her grandmother is doing everything she can to put Jenni in jail – permanently.  The American people don’t know if they want Jenni alive or dead, but the way things are working out, most of them seem to want her dead.  And the terrorists…simply want her head!

To Jenni, her life is like going from one kind of prison to another.  If she thought her life growing up was bad, it was nothing like what the government was capable of inflicting on her.

The pressure and stress finally mount to the point where Jenni wants to do nothing more than to…Curl Up and Die.


That’s it.  Curl Up and Die takes everything from the first two books and finishes it, and more importantly, explains a few things, in case you were wondering about them.  So if you haven’t had a chance yet to read Family Can Be Murder, and Daddy Came Calling, then please go check them out from Kindle.  And then after you read them, you can finally finish the tale with Curl Up and Die. 

Have fun reading them!  Enjoy them!  Please!

Tuesday, July 23, 2019

Working On It

Sorry, the next chapter of Mercy isn't ready yet.  I'm still working on it.  Things have been crazy both at home and at work for a little while now and I've gotten very little writing done. 

It also looks like I'll have to develop my own cover for the final book of my Jenni series. 

I promise, I'm trying to get to all of it.  Please be patient.
Karen

Wednesday, July 17, 2019

Book 3 - Curl Up and Die

Just a quick note for the people who are waiting for book 3 of my Jenni ...with an i series.  Curl Up and Die has been finished and ready to go for days now.  What's not ready is the cover.  I don't have one.  My cover guy is usually too fast, but there seems to be problems going on.  The book will be released as soon as I've got the cover.  Hopefully SOON!

Tuesday, July 16, 2019

Mercy Me - Chapter 8 – Part 2 of 2


Mercy Me
By Karen Singer

Chapter 8 – Part 2 of 2

      “Okay twerp,” Mercy said to him.  “When we leave here, this time, I’m going to follow you.”
     Michael was surprised.  “You’re going to follow me?”
      “That’s right.”
      “Where are we going?”
      “Your place.”
      “My place?”
      “That’s right.  You’re going to show me where you live.”
     Michael was nervous now, but for an entirely different reason.  “I am?”
     Mercy shook her head.  “I already have your address, if I have to drive you there myself in my truck, then you can be very certain that when I bring you back again, you’re going to find it nearly impossible to sit down in your own car to drive back home!”
     Michael’s fear went crazy.  He had been spanked by her machine twice now, and the last time still hurt!  A few minutes later, he waited until she drove up behind him, then he headed home. 
     Mercy eyed the apartments all around her.  Typical.  Very typical.  Cheap, but decent.  She pulled into an empty space and got out of her truck.  The twerp was already hurrying toward one of the lower apartments.  He was inside with the door open before she was halfway there.  Obviously he was trying very hard to stay out of sight.  Not that it would do him much good. 
     She entered his apartment and he closed the door behind them.  She looked around.  Nice, but…not that nice.  The furniture in the living room looked used, but functional.  She noticed the heavy curtains on the French doors in the back.  She walked over to them and pulled the curtains aside to look out.  Not much.  Just a tiny cement patio and then grass before the next building behind them. 
     She walked into the kitchen and looked around.  Functional.  That’s all she would say about it.  There was a laptop computer open on his kitchen table.  She was briefly tempted to ask him to show her all the sites he most likely spent a lot of time on, but she really wasn’t that interested.  She looked into his refrigerator and several of his cupboards.  Not much, just some basic stuff.  Pretty much what she expected from a young guy who lived alone. 
     The bathroom was next on her tour.  She opened the medicine cabinet.  The only medicine she saw in it was some Tylenol.  “Do you take any medication for anything?” she asked him.
      “Like what?” he asked.
      “So you’re not under a doctor’s care for anything?”
      “Uh…no.  Why would I be?”
      “Some people are,” she said.  There was nothing else in the bathroom that interested her.  She headed for the room she was the most interested in.  His bedroom. 
     The full-size bed wasn’t made…not that she expected it to be.  There was no headboard or footboard for it either.  Disappointing, but not unexpected.  There were clothes tossed in a pile on the floor.  She prodded them with her foot to briefly look through them.  Nothing interesting.  She noted the long full length mirror hung on his closet door – interesting!  She opened his closet and looked through his clothes carefully.  She was very disappointed in what she found…or in this case, what she didn’t find.  He had no “special” clothes at all that she could see.  Only the little girl shoes on the floor there that she had made him buy a few days ago.  Nothing else.  She closed the closet door and started going through his dresser.  She opened every drawer.  Nothing!  So why did he need a big mirror like that? 
     In his dresser, she again opened the drawer that held his panties.  It also held all his male underwear.  She pulled all the male underwear out and laid it on top of his dresser.  She looked straight at him.  “Since you love wearing panties so much now,” she said in a somewhat threatening tone of voice, “do you really have any need for these anymore?”
     Michael was shocked.  “Uh…”
      “Do you?” she said more firmly.
      “Uh…no?” he replied meekly. 
      “Then get rid of them!  Now!”
      “Now?”
      “That’s what I said.  Get them out of this apartment!”
      “Uh…what should I do with them?”
      “Don’t you have a dumpster or someplace you can throw them in?”
      “Uh…yeah.”
      “Then do it!”  She picked up the pile of underwear and pressed it all into his hands.  “Get rid of it.  Now!”
     Michael gulped.  “But the dumpster is all the way…”
      “I don’t care where it is.  Go!”
      “Uh…do I have to wear what I’ve got on?”
      “Do you want your ass blistered worse than before?”
     Once again the fear hit him hard.  He hurried toward his front door. 
     Mercy smiled and followed after the little twerp.  Yeah, there was no doubt about it, even moving as fast as he was, he was having no trouble at all in those heels.  She thought again about the full length mirror in the bedroom.  She had no doubt what he had been looking at in that mirror for the last few days.  She just couldn’t figure out why she couldn’t find any other “interesting” clothing in his apartment.  It made no sense.
     Michael was petrified.  The sound of his high heels was way too loud, but if he slowed down, it would give people more of a chance to see him.  He hurried the two blocks to the dumpsters, quickly threw all his male underwear in, then started hurrying back, even faster than he had come.  He saw her waiting outside for him.  He hurried right past her and headed for his open front door. 
      “Stop!” Mercy ordered.
     He stopped and turned, even though he didn’t want to. 
      “Come here!” Mercy ordered.
     Reluctantly and fearfully, Michael approached.
     Mercy pointed in the direction of the dumpsters.  “Walk back up along this sidewalk, all the way to the road.  Then turn around and come back again.  This time…walk!  Don’t run.  And this time, when you walk you put one foot in front of the other, like you’re walking on a tightrope.  Got that?  One foot in front of the other.”  She pointed again.  “Go!”
     Michael’s knees were shaking?  She was purposely keeping him out in public…and this time, it was right there where he lived. 
      “Go!” she ordered again.  “Walk!”
     He feared her too much.  He turned and started walking.
      “Slower!” she ordered.  “One foot in front of the other!”
     Michael slowed down a bit and tried to walk the way she wanted.  It made walking in the heels much more difficult…which he figured was why she wanted him to do it.  Was anyone who lived around him watching?  What could he do if they were?  But with that bow in his hair and the heels on his feet…what would they think?  He knew what they would think!  And it wasn’t a good thing.
      “Now turn around and come back!” Mercy called as he reached the end of the sidewalk. 
     Michael turned and walked back to her. 
      “One foot in front of the other!  Always!” Mercy called to him.
     Michael was already doing that.  It was awkward, but he was trying.  He got back to her finally.
     Mercy pointed back toward the end of the sidewalk.  “Do it again.”
     Michael couldn’t believe it.  But he turned and did it all over again.  Five times she made him walk back and forth…in full view of anyone who happened to drive by or come out of their apartments. 
     Finally, she let him back into his house.  He was glad to close the door behind him. 
      “From now on, that’s the way I want to see you walking.  Always!  One foot right in front of the other.  I suggest you practice and get used to it.  Now what time are you supposed to be at my house tomorrow?”
      “Ten thirty,” he mumbled fearfully.
      “Good!  I’ll see you then.”  She turned and left.  Yeah, for a little twerp, he was turning out to be a lot of fun.  There were just a few things she hadn’t yet been able to figure out about him.  But she had just barely started.  It always took a while before she got the full measure of someone. 
     And tomorrow…all weekend…would be a very good chance for her to get to know not only him, but Fido.  Which reminded her of something else.  She really did need to pick a better name for the little twerp.  She just had no idea what.

--- §§§§§§§§§§ ---

     It was nearly eight o’clock when Mercy pulled her truck into her driveway again.  As always, she pushed the button to open her garage door and walked in that way.  She got only halfway through her workshop before her phone rang.  She dug it out of her pocket.  Fido!  “Hello?”
      “Mistress,” Fido’s voice came back,
      “Yes Fido?  Are you still coming tomorrow?  Do you have a problem of some kind?”
      “No Mistress.  Not a problem.  And idea.”
      “An idea?  What kind of idea.”
      “For your hedges.  For trimming them.”
     Now Mercy was more interested.  “What about them?”
      “I was thinking of maybe not just trimming them back a little where they extend into your yard, but maybe cutting them way back there and shaping them on that side.  They’d still be very overgrown on your neighbor’s side of course, but once they’ve been shaped, and once they’ve had a few weeks to grow back a little, they would look very nice from your side.”
      “You want to do all that?”
      “Yes Mistress.  I think it would look good.  A hedge trimmer wouldn’t work to cut them back that far though, I’d have to use a chain saw instead.  And I’m afraid that for a few weeks they’d look rather bare, but the more you trim them properly, the more they should fill out, and eventually, they would look really nice.”
      “A chain saw.  As much as I hate to say it, I don’t have one Fido.”
      “I have one,” he replied.
      “You’ve got a chain saw?”
      “I sometimes lose some big limbs from the trees in my yard.  I got it to cut them up with.”
      “I see.  Tell you what Fido.  We’ll discuss it when you come tomorrow.”
      “Yes Mistress,” Fido said, his voice holding a hint of excitement. 
      “And what time are you supposed to be here?”
      “Nine o’clock Mistress,” he replied.
      “That’s right.  I’ll see you then Fido.”
     She stuck her phone back in her pocket.  If Fido wanted to do all that, then she’d consider it.  She wondered just how good he was at landscaping.  It might be interesting to find out.
     She went into her house and grabbed her needlework and carried it out to her front porch.  She sat with it for a few minutes, but her eyes kept going to the house across the street.  The lights were on and she could occasionally see shadows going back and forth across the windows.  What the heck was he doing in there at this time of night?
     She set her needlework down and crossed the street.  There was something she had been meaning to discuss with him anyway. 

--- §§§§§§§§§§ ---

     Ben Whitmore jumped at the sudden unexpected sound of his doorbell.  Rag in hand, he hurried to open it.  Who the heck would be calling on him?  He opened the door and his stomach lurched.  The weird woman from across the street.  “Can I help you?”
      “What the heck are you doing?” Mercy asked, noticing the white rag in his hand.
      “Cleaning.”
      “Cleaning?  At this time of night?”
      “Why not.  If I do it every night, it takes me no time at all before I’m finished.”
      “Every night?  You clean your house every night?”
      “Sure.  Don’t you?”
      “Hell no!  Why didn’t you clean it earlier?”
      “I made a casserole for dinner tonight and it took me a while.”
      “You made a casserole.  Was it any good?”
      “It was great!  It’s one of my favorites.”
      “You clean every day, and you cook?” she asked.
      “Don’t you?”
      “Heaven forbid!  I’d kill myself first!”
      “That’s your problem then.  I refuse to live in a filthy house!”
      “Right,” she replied with a shake of her head.  “I just came over to let you know that I’m going to be having company all weekend, but don’t let that stop you from coming over anytime to do your laundry.  I expect my houseguests to be seen and ogled by others at any time, and they need to get used to it.”
      “Ogled?  You mean like…last weekend.”
      “Exactly.  So don’t let it stop you.  In fact, I want them to be seen by you when you come.  Okay?”
      “I’m not going to go there to do my laundry again!  Tomorrow I’m going to buy a new washer and dryer.”
      “Don’t!”
      “Why not?”
      “Because I need my laundry done too.”
      “That’s your problem.  I’ve got more than enough of my own.  Besides, I’ve got more to do this week now that I’ve lived here for a week.  Two sets of sheets, four sets of towels…”
      “Two sets of sheets?”
      “I change my sheets as often as I can.  I don’t want to sleep in a dirty bed.  It’s bad enough that I’ve only got two sets of sheets to use so far.”
     Mercy’s head was spinning.  This guy was nuts!  But still…he would also be a dream catch for any woman she knew.  He voice became threatening.  “You’re not going to buy a washer and dryer.  You’re going to continue to bring your laundry to my house to do it.”
     Ben was shocked.  “No!  I’m not one of your weird…clients.”
      “I didn’t say you were.”
      “But last week you tied me up and made me walk on your treadmill.  I’m not going to go through that again.”
     Mercy smiled.  “That’s no problem,” she replied slyly.  She didn’t say it, but she had many other things she could put him through instead.  She just had to get him over to her house and put him to work first.  She reached out and grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him straight up against her muscular body.  “I expect you at my house to do your laundry by noon tomorrow!  If you’re not there by then, I’m going to come straight over here, kick your door down, and carry you back there.  Then I’ll torture you until you agree to do what I want.  Is that clear?”
      “You’ll what?”
      “Trust me, I’ll do it!”
      “I’ll call the police!”
     She laughed.  “Go ahead.  You’re going to have a hard time doing it though when you’re all trussed up like a turkey in the middle of my living room.”
      “You wouldn’t!”
      “Breaking men is my favorite pastime!”  She stared menacingly at him for a moment.  “Now what’ll it be?  You come over nicely tomorrow with all your laundry you need to get done, or I come over here, grab you, hurt you beyond belief for the rest of the weekend, and you don’t get your laundry done at all.  Which will it be?”
     Ben couldn’t believe this woman was serious.  “I…I…”
      “You’ve got till noon!” Mercy said.  “Then I’ll be here to get you.”  She turned to leave, but she didn’t get far before she stopped.  “Oh,” she said as she turned back toward him.  “I guess you’ll be borrowing my lawn mower this weekend too.  I’ll plan on it for you.”
      “No!  I’m going to buy my own!”
      “Noon!”  She turned and headed home, wondering what the guy was going to do.  She was pretty sure nobody had ever spoken to him like that in his life.  She also wondered if she really would go across the street and kidnap him if he didn’t show up.  On the one hand, she’d enjoy doing it very much.  On the other hand, it was illegal as hell, and if he did call the cops afterwards, for once, she would be in big trouble.  She’d…think about it.

--- §§§§§§§§§§ ---

     Across the street, Ben Whitmore stood silently in his living room, his cleaning rag still in his hand.  She wouldn’t really kick his door down and physically drag him over there, would she?  But there was just something about her that made him fear just that?  Could he call the police now and complain?  But what evidence did he have?  None.  And she’d probably just deny she had said any of that.  So what should he do?