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But Dodd, Indiana is far from safe once she comes face-to-face with Richland Conrad Cooper. Rich and Sarah go way back to high school. Rich was teen-girl kryptonite—athletic, charming…persuasive—and Sarah was not immune. She fell hard, certain she'd found true love. But it turned out to be nothing more than the first of her love tries and fails.
She thought time had shored up her defenses, but one look at Rich makes her heart do flip flops. It's like the moment where unrequited love gets a do-over, the only problem is...Rich doesn't remember who the hell she is.
That hurt, and no matter how hard Rich tries to make up for that initial faux pas, Sarah won’t forget. She has learned—if a guy steals your heart, breaking his is quid pro quo.
Only when Rich is served with a custody challenge of his two daughters does Sarah call a truce. Working together, Rich can’t help but totally fall for her. She’s cold and rude, forcefully pointing out their differences and his flaws every chance she gets. But the heart wants what the heart wants, so Rich tries even harder to convince her she isn’t meant for any other guy, but him.
Gabriel. Sea Monkey Master
When I was little, I wanted Sea Monkeys. The comic books ads made them look like they would make the best sort of pets—lounging around on barnacle furniture, sipping cups of saltwater tea when they weren’t busy building underwater cities.
I busted my piggy bank to buy my first kit of sea monkeys. They arrived, I followed the directions, and waited.
Nothing happened.
I tried a few more times. Still Nothing!
Twenty years later...I found Sea Monkeys in the store.
I bought them, um, for the kids. We followed the instructions to the letter.
Finally! I was going to have Sea Monkeys!
Nope. Again, there was NOTHING!
I tossed them with curses cast toward the company for the fleecing of children (and whimsical adults).
Then, being the eternal optimist (or insanely stubborn). I bought them again as a Christmas present for my son, boy #3.
Once again, we followed all the guidelines. And again, it looked like another fail.
Then my nephew, Gabriel, visited. He recognized the green plastic aquarium in the kitchen and it went like this:
Gabe: Cool. You got Sea Monkeys too?
Me: No. We have an empty tank. Stupid Sea Monkeys.
Gabe: Sea Monkeys are neat.
Me (aghast): You've seen Sea Monkeys?!
He just nodded, with a look of wonderment that his aunt responded like he’d just confessed to seeing Big Foot riding waves on the Loch Ness Monster.
Me: For real? From the kit?
Gabe: Yes.
Me: Nuh uh.
He nodded.
Me: Well then, what's the secret?
Gabe: I don't know. Just grow them. Put them in a window with light, but not too much and then just feed them.
Me: That's all?
He nodded.
I followed his advice.
Still NOTHING.
On his next visit, I grilled him some more.
Me: Gabe, are you sure you saw Sea Monkeys? Or was it algae scum?
Gabe: They were Sea Monkey.
Me: Are you sure you don't just have a bunch of algae in a tank?
Gabe: Be patient. Leave them in the window and wait.
So, I waited. December to January to February...the failed green mess almost got the flush countless times, but every time I went to give up, I'd think of Gabe. I knew he would chastise my lack of patience with a googly eye-roll.
March. Three months past Christmas. This was getting ridiculous!
Then I was washing dishes. The sun was shining in the kitchen window and suddenly, there was movement—INSIDE the Sea Monkey tank were four little white critters!
I just had to be excruciatingly patient. Patient past the point of common sense. And sure, they looked like something you’d need to clean out of a dirty fish tank, but they were real.
That’s the thing about dreams, especially the writing dream. Every step, there is something to learn and a tremendous amount of waiting, and when the dreams finally hatch, it’s often not quite as spectacular as you’d imagined.
But it’s still super awesome. You finished. You reached a goal. That’s something to appreciate.
About the Author:
Elizabeth divides her time between her beach cottage and her scrupulously clean house in the hills of West Virginia. Ooops. That's fantasy Elizabeth. The real Elizabeth lives solely in West Virginia in a house that is never scrupulously anything and dreams of living beachside. She is a former social worker, a wife, and the mother of four boys. She is a multi-published author of women’s fiction and romance.
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Thanks for allowing me to share Gabe's story and Hoosier Dad!
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