I just came back from a beautiful weekend in Newport, Rhode Island with my family. I knew Newport wasn’t going to be a child-friendly town with loads of attractions my kids would enjoy, but I’d heard it was beautiful and wanted to see it anyway. I just wasn’t sure how it would go. As it turned out, my children had a wonderful time. When my husband and I asked them what their favorite part was, they answered without pause - the Cliff Walk. It’s true, the Cliff Walk is breathtaking, but I had no idea they’d enjoy something as simple as walking along the edge of a cliff, watching the waves crash against rocks, as much as they did. I thought they’d get tired, but they begged to keep going, and to do it again the next day.
And so, right now, I’m thankful for the small things in life. I’m thankful that my children love taking walks, watching waves and talking to me about what the shapes of the rocks resemble. I’m thankful for my son’s giggle when he plays but doesn’t know anyone is listening. He’s growing up quickly and I don’t know how much longer I’m going to get to hear that, but it’s one of the best sounds in the world right now. I’m thankful for my tween daughter’s mock-outraged cry of “MOM!” whenever I do something to purposely, jokingly embarrass her. Then she laughs, letting me know it’s okay. I’m thankful for the mornings when my husband and I sit outside together, drinking our coffee and chatting before the day’s craziness begins.
It’s so easy to get swept up in the big things. Jobs, houses, money, etc. To focus on those and maybe think about how things didn’t go as planned or what else you want from life. But I’m thankful that right now I’m stopping to think about the little things. Because even though they might seem insignificant by themselves, together they can make up a lifetimes of happiness.
In my new release, Shatterproof, my heroine, Frankie, finds worth in the little things that ordinary people don’t see. I’m going to take a lesson from her, and hopefully I’ll find even more of the small stuff to enjoy.
Griffin Stone knows the stats. Sons of abusers become abusers. This is his single fear.
After witnessing firsthand his parents’ tumultuous marriage, Griffin worries that he, too, harbors an explosive dark side. Can he escape from his father’s rage-fueled ways or is he destined to become part of the cycle?
Unable to persuade his mother to leave and wrestling with his resentment towards her for staying, Griffin volunteers at Holly’s House, a safe haven for abused women. Through sculpture, Griffin gives these women pieces of themselves they’ve long forgotten. Holly’s House is the only place where Griffin finds peace and purpose.
Until he meets Frankie Moore.
Frankie is an aspiring photographer, finding beauty in things most people miss, including Griffin. Griffin is attracted to her free-spirited, sassy attitude but fears Frankie will trigger the most intense part of him, the one he must keep buried.
Frankie’s got to get her act together. Her anything-goes behavior is leading nowhere fast. She’s hopeful that her latest hobby will be a building block for the future. But when a stranger appears on the other end of her camera, looking as complex as he is handsome, Frankie thinks this might be just the change she needs.
“You need to grow up, Griffin,” my father spat at me. “Life isn’t perfect. You need to get over it and move on. Your mother can. She’s happy with me and whatever we have between us is our business, not yours. Grow the hell up, and start acting like a man instead of a petulant child.”
Heat shot through my body at lightning speed. “Act like a man—like you?” I shouted. “What should I do, go pick some amazing woman who’s full of life and beat it out of her until she can’t even recognize herself any more, until she can’t even differentiate between love and pain? Is that what a man does, Dad? Is that what I should do?”
My father broke into a smile. An evil, condescending, terrifying smile. “You think you’re so different from me?” He hovered over me. His tone was sinister, as if he was trying to cut through my skin with nothing but his voice. “Get up.” He yanked my arm and pulled me by the elbow into the bathroom. He grabbed the back of my head and forced me to face the mirror. “Look at yourself, Griffin. And look at me. Everything about you comes from me. You may deny it now. You may put yourself on a pedestal, thinking you’re above being human, but just know that the fire inside you, that’s my fire. That passion, it’s mine. And when you have an uncontrollable desire to love, to hurt, to possess a woman, it’s from me. Nothing is yours alone. Even this face.” He snagged my chin between his strong fingers. I tried to yank it away from his grasp, but he held on too tight. “It’s mine. And there’s nothing you can do about it. You can try to mask it in this mess of hair and clothes and tattoos you have going on, but know that every time a woman falls in love with that face, every time she says she can’t resist you because of it, every time she can’t walk away from you…it’s because of me. It’s because you are me. We. Are. The. Same.” He released my chin with a shove and left the bathroom.
Shatterproof, a New Adult, Contemporary Romance
The Wild Rose Press http://www.wildrosepublishing.com/maincatalog_v1…/index.php…