Thursday, July 9, 2026

Stillborn Armadillos - Book 1 of the John Lee Quarrels Series by Nick Russell

 





A couple of notes as I begin... I was trying to contact the author because the book copyright states clearly that excerpts may NOT be used even for reviews... So I'll be talking about the books from my own thoughts without any ability to share the actual writing. Please note also that there are mistakes, not many, but sufficient to be aware that a final editing was never done. Also, the book I got for my reader is NOT what I later found to be provided on my desktop format. I have no idea why, but as I already noted to the author, the pages were unnumbered, and at least once, I lost location of where I had left off reading. Don't ask me why. other than to say that Fire does that frequently if you lay your reader down on an uneven surface... Not LOL

In any event, once I discovered that the desktop version was different, I decided to not talk about the books in the order in which this book presents them. Given that I will be discussing the books as opposed to a regular review format, you should realize that the comments and thoughts are purely my own--sometimes opinions--sometimes flashbacks--sometimes editorial... And, more importantly, as most of you already know, I will be correlating the material presented in a somewhat comparative analysis with what is happening in the world right now, on a daily basis. I'm going to try this first book that I just finished and see how it goes. As you know, I normally use short excerpts to pinpoint issues and explore the content, but since, apparently, the fear of AI related to book content will affect other authors who are afraid of their content being illegally used, I will be exploring how to adjust to those authors who require that I seek permission before any use. My time is more important to me than sitting and waiting for permission to write about a book... In any event, feedback about how you feel about my adjustments to copyright restrictions are, as with any other issue, always welcome...

Amazon Book Description - Life is already complicated enough for John Lee Quarrels, what with his estranged wife dropping in for unannounced sleepovers, her oversexed sister tempting him, his pot smoking ponytailed grandfather growing his own stash, his Elvis obsessed grandmother, and being caught smack dab in the middle of a power struggle between the Sheriff and Chief Deputy. But when a road construction crew unearths the skeletons of three murder victims, John Lee suddenly finds himself on the trail of a killer who may well have died long before the deputy was even born. And then a mysterious sniper begins shooting at deputies...
As sultry as a Florida back road in August, as mysterious as the South's live oak trees dripping with Spanish moss, and as deadly as a copperhead strike, New York Times bestselling author Nick Russell's new John Lee Quarrels series is sure to hook you from the first page and keep you reading late into the night.
~~~~

Small town USA is the setting for the books I've read thus far... As I mentioned yesterday, I immediately thought about the fact that in the first term for the republicans as they began movement toward Project 2025's attempt to control us, there was an emphasis that they had already started at the local level to influence for their plans and to begin control... We saw an emphasis on banning books, disruptions of school boards as movement toward a tighter control for our citizens was begun...

In the books thus far, there is one blatant factor. There are always local "rich" men, leaders of the community who "think" they have the right to control our lives... Interestingly, however, Russell also includes the extreme of the other side of the small town people... Discovering the individual people within each story is, therefore, a highlight to be watched... 

Because within a small town, apparently, it seems that everybody knows about everything that is going on... And, as with today's world, individual reactions are based upon where you are "seen" in relation to the "class" of people in which you live...

Let me quickly point out that, for me, I was influenced by this obvious use of people and their relationships to each other was quite offensive. That doesn't mean that I've never had similar feelings, it merely shares that "my feelings" are based upon, oftentimes, a very different base of beliefs. I found myself often reading the books more from a sociological standpoint as opposed to content of the storyline.

What do I mean by that? Well, for instance, I have no idea what the title of this book is supposed to represent... LOL... Now talk about coons or deer that scamper around my area, and I'm fully involved. Add some cats or dogs, and I've got friends to enjoy while I read... But talks among men as it relates to sex and competition was too much of a reminder of how deadly that can and has become as we watch television each day...

Take John Lee Quarrels as the main character... and how his character is developed. My first reaction was John Boy from The Little House on the Prairie... I mean, do small towners actually use two names each time you talk among friends? In any event, his personal life is interesting. His interaction with family is stranger... and yet, the man, himself, is somebody that most women will immediately respond to. But not know what to say about him... Interested in knowing more?

Well, often in a small area, we have nepotism as an issue... relatives getting jobs because they are familialy connected. John Lee's boss, is also his father-in-aw. This becomes an issue because John Lee is an excellent officer, but supposedly reports to another man, who is also familialy connected and feels he should be the Sheriff--as opposed to reporting to his brother-in-law... So there is constant friction by the supposed boss being bypassed... Also, in a small area, we learn that sex is an open discussion option, so readers will know all about John Lee's life in that area...

But let's start at the beginning. Often an officer will be involved in providing security to construction site activity. It was there that, as digging was occurring, a human bone was discovered. In fact, ultimately there were three old bodies that had been brought to the surface... And, once site review was made, they learned that each of the men, later confirmed as Black, had been shot in the back of their heads.

This, then, becomes an ongoing investigation led by Quarrels and a need to search old records when the age of the skeletons were confirmed. That occurred when the first few bones didn't match and the digging spread out from that original discovery... And, almost immediately somebody attacked the group, firing from a distance into the cop cars!

Once it was determined that the skeletons were from Black men, the issue of slaves was considered. But the timing and the ages of the skeletons soon eliminated that they had been slaves... One major find at that time was a small object that could not be defined with a purpose... Finally, a local historian provided sufficient information to pull up an historical fact on earlier camps to collect turpentine... On the other hand, John Lee learned that what was called Turpentine had been a product of a company that was still located in town... At some point in the past a discovery was made that there had been six camps which might have used the small token to be worn by the workers who lived in the various camps. Using these to identify the workers.



This was one of the connections that came to mind... That is, the fact that, supposedly, slavery had been abolished, but many Black people, attempting to find some type of work, were often caught into the same type of corruption of rich cotton growers... The product just changed... And, workers might have been of more than one race, but treated just as badly... Those who controlled men in the camps, I picture, as the type of men now working with ICE... Yes, it was a job, but it was also a method by which racial bias was often displayed, often resulting in death for the workers... The small ID could be used and often was worn around the neck. Indeed this small item had the initials of the company name.


John Lee soon was talking with the company leader but he claimed he knew little about what was going on back that far in the company's history... But John Lee soon was dealing with who was shooting up cop cars as well as who might have murdered the three Black men so long ago...

An interesting connection between many of those John Lee interacted with was a slightly different version of ICE of today, where they go into various locations without benefit of warrants or other legal  authority. This theme runs through the small town areas in the various books, with militia-type individuals--or Klan--who used guns and threats against any law officer who tried to come on to their property... As of now, I don't have a handle on why these people felt that they could prevent the law from coming on their land... Perhaps when there is a conflict between what the law is actually trying to do, versus what the individuals believe is right or wrong? Certainly we have learned of the correlation being used by those who now walk our streets masked and with guns aimed and ready...



It was the murder of Ray Ray that brought the entire community up in arms... Ray Ray stuttered, but was so involved, kind, and caring that it didn't matter... He paid with his life... And how he died was something that called for action of various sorts...

As the book ends, readers are confronted with an ending that has little to offer... When those involved lie to the police officers or blame others as seems to be a standard operating procedure for many small town business representatives, we are confronted with one major result.

The problem of communication moves from the very bottom of civilization all the way to the top... The question is what to do when the people with legal authority are prevented from acting... by parents who choose to support their child rather than acknowledge that accountability is required... Two boys had decided it would be funny to scare a cop... The cop thought he was being killed, or could be... The mother attacked John Lee for pointing out that her son could be killed...

All I have to say it that if the small town of these books represent what actually exists in the United States...there is every reason to consider that the lack of proper training and accountability does indeed begin in the families... And, when power and money becomes a factor, it only gains strength, longevity and moves upward and outward... creating chaos...

John Lee had the scars to prove it. That mother used her claws and dug into his face, not caring that her son was actually to blame--or, perhaps, she was actually the one to be jailed...

Are we generating the world we live in through the type of parenting being done? Yet, those who are parents are often stopped from dealing with problems due to lack of money, some type of abuse, or out-of-control problems in the family that are rarely handled or even attempted because the parent is not able to handle the responsibility.

Have we reached today's crisis through ignoring the needs of those who need the most help? Statistics seem to support that to be true... Decades have gone by while one political party not only refuses to deal with gun control, but also garners financial support for retaining policies about gun control as not being needed...

Are our children being stillborn because there are no longer clear guidelines with families, local governments, federal government and across the world?

Like Nero, do we allow supposed leaders at every level to fiddle while Rome burns to the ground... and then blame anybody and everybody other than ourselves or those we voted for, at any level, including our religious leaders, to actually get away with murder???




A final thought re this series... Quarrels, in developing John Lee as his main character achieves something that many writers have not... He has put together a story that is intriguing enough to pull readers in at the same time, that his main character has sufficient moral character to allow readers to know exactly how he feels about various situations... and yet provide a layer of ongoing humor that both surprises and delights...

Watch for the next book soon...

GABixerReviews

Wednesday, July 8, 2026

What's Happening at Book Reader's Heaven - Now Reading Murder, Mayhem and Main Street by Nick Russell - and Other Stuff!

 

Though off to a bad start this morning, I had already planned to talk about my thoughts on AI... So, it might as well be as the start today... I was awake at 4 and reading the latest from the third story in this book and my mind suddenly grasped that Nick Russell is a writer who I was very often in sync with... I had gotten to a certain part and was highlighting a lot and realized that I wanted to spotlight what was being said there...

But, yesterday, after finishing the second story, I went online to find the author. Facebook popped up first so I clicked and verified that this was the man who had written the book, so I requested a connection... I immediately was told that I didn't know this person... Once again, Facebook infuriated me! I DID know this individual. I had been reading him for days... And I knew more about Nick Russell than I ever would for all those other possible connections that Facebook routinely suggested for me! The "brain" behind the programming on Facebook has boggled my mind for years... They claim that they are connecting the world, BUT it is with selections being made by...computer... Duh... I had just once again been told that I didn't know Russell so I couldn't possibly have a need to connect with "him..." DUH... I'm a reader reading his book. Russell is a writer who wants people to read his books... Surely a simple programming routine would have connected these two individuals?! But, hey, they are now using AI and, according to the news yesterday, thousands are being terminated because of AI implementation. And, my message has not been read...so I'll not finish talking about these four books now...

BYW, before I started this post, I was prevented from being able to start this blog post... But, at least, I know that Google normally pays attention to feedback...

PREPARE FOR AN EVEN WORSE COMPUTER-GENERATED TIME-WASTER IN YOUR FUTURE!

And I've had a lifetime of time wasted by those who claim that they know what is best for me in relation to computer use... Take for instance that I had created an entire facilities management system and even gave a paper presentation of it at a professional meeting, only to discover that West Virginia University was far behind most of the basic systems used at other universities... Yes, that's true... You see, I had the brain to create the system. I did not have the power and authority to gain support for that system... Years and much employee time wasted...

So, there I was yesterday, after being a book blogger for over 20 years, being told by a machine--or the minds that told the machine--that I did not know Nick--I was already calling him one of my favorite authors! But they allow anybody and everybody to send messages - so I did take advantage, carefully identifying myself, the book I was reading and why I was contacting him... Then...wait... As of this morning, it never was read... sooo, I'm going with my original plan... I will be talking about each book separately, even though I got them as a package... It works for me, so... we'll see how it goes...

So I went out to Amazon. Now they force you to use some type of "named" AI system... I explained that I had been billed twice for a book that, both cost, $18.01... So I went out to orders, found the book and saw that no other book recently bought had the same price...

Oh, wait... I must point out that all of these companies claim that you no longer need to have paper files, right? That's been one of the key "selling" points as far back as the 1960s! In any event, I had been reviewing my "online" checking account, saw the two listings for a book costing $18.01, along with a bunch of numbers created by the bank to supposedly identify this purchase... Well, both were marked as a reduction of my available money, but had different ID numbers... which, of course, forced ME to go hunt up what was going on... BTW, I also made a list of supposed Walmart purchases that I questioned within the time period...

So, back on Amazon, the AI generator had pulled up a different book, at a different price... BUT, on the opposite page was the right book cover with the right price...So I go back to AI, the book listed was a purchase I had also made, but a lower price... So, which was the mistake? On my bank, on Amazon, or the AIs of the world united to drive us crazy?! But no person to talk to... I didn't spend time writing out the issue for the AI to generate...whatever...

Now back to Facebook. I know I have a personal grudge against that site who claimed that there was possible hacking and kept me offline for nearly 2 years and which resulted, ultimately, in a total loss of my data in a group I have started on Facebook which had been operational since  the last decade... So I keep a lowkey most of the time unless some computer crap from some corporate online system drives me to...rage...


Anyway, JC and I were doing a lot of  telepathic action as I was reading Russell's book... I was getting all kinds of connections with news items, other books, and messages from Him, depending upon what I was reading... If you don't get it, that's ok...my brain activity is way unique even I am surprised some times...

This morning I read about an event that had affected the entire town. Somebody--I don't know who yet--had murdered a cop who stuttered... And immediately a videos of many times when this president has made fun of those people whick included the disabled, or those he calls stupid or...whatever... The man then gets upset when comedians use him as the stooge he is, in my opinion, of course... LOL

Folks, I've been around a long time and have led somewhat of a sheltered life until I started working at WVU and met many people from around the world. By that time, my family, school, and church background had created a basic sense of awareness that all people desire recognition as "potential" children of God... I word that carefully to reveal my own humanity in not being as God wants--that we love all of our neighbors... In my defense, though, until about 2015 and both the news and the internet opened my eyes to the diversity in America... I was, and, still am, quite naive about the full scope of all peoples now living around the world...

But Russell has made it quite easy for us, really. He takes us to the smallest group of people under one level of government--the small town--and reveals more than we might never know exists in other locations... To me, this was a gift that is needed, right now, when one group of people are striving to destroy the advancements which have been made by many, many people pulling together, working together, to meet the needs of our own lives, as well as the people from all around this earth... at the first level of organizing...

Now Reading: Haberman, Maggie; Swan, Jonathan. Regime Change: Inside the Imperial Presidency of Donald Trump (p. I). Simon & Schuster. Kindle Edition. 


Just got a call that I have a driver to help me get groceries today... So need to close this out... But I want to add one video and talk about it soon... see if you can find MSNOW of the news items... I think it was one Turi's Moment...



luvya guys

Gabby


Monday, July 6, 2026

Ongoing Contributor Harold Michael Harvey Presents Power Without Mercy - A Message for ALL!


 


POWER WITHOUT MERCY

When a Superpower’s Strength Outgrows the Mercy That Should Restrain It

Friday, July 3, 2026

Irene Hannon Presents In Harm's Way - Christian Romantic Suspense - Heroes of Quantico Book 3

 



Claudia Barnes savored another spoonful of her soup at Le Bistro. The chef had a way with mushrooms, no question about it. And the desserts were to die for, despite the dent they put in her reporter’s salary. But tonight, the conversation between the couple in the booth behind her was even better than the food. After setting down her spoon, she pulled out her notebook, opened it to a blank page, and tuned in, pen poised. 

“Tell her to forget it.” A man’s voice. “But Mike, she’s really spooked by this.” A woman speaking now. “And Rachel isn’t the type to go for any of that supernatural stuff. We’ve worked together for two years, and she’s very levelheaded. She thinks it’s weird too.” “That’s understandable. I mean, come on, Marta. She finds a Raggedy Ann doll buried under a pile of snow in a Bread Company parking lot and says it’s sending her a message?” “I know. If it wasn’t Rachel telling me this, I’d dismiss it. But I told her I’d check with you and see if the police would be interested.” “Nope.” The sound of ice tinkling in a glass. “You’re sure?” “Honey, if she shows up at the station, no one will take her seriously. They’ll listen to her story with a straight face, but once she’s gone, everyone will have a good laugh. Trust me on this. Save your friend the embarrassment.” A heavy sigh. “That’s what I thought.”

 Cutlery clinked against china. “What do you think she should do with the doll?” “Pitch it.” “That’s what I told her. But I might have to do it for her. I don’t think she wants to touch it again.” More ice rattled. “Don’t get involved. Stay away from the doll.” “I thought you said her story was a bunch of nonsense?” “It is. But weird things happen sometimes.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” “I don’t know. Nothing.” “Hey, I’m not letting you off the hook that easily.” The woman’s tone was half-teasing, half-serious. “’Fess up. I sense a story here.” “Not much of one.” “Come on, Mike. Out with it. We always said there’d be no secrets in our marriage, remember?” “This isn’t a secret.” “Then tell me.” “Fine. I had this friend in high school. Nice guy, on the quiet side, very strait-laced. Anyway, a couple of days after I got my first used car, I tossed him the keys and asked if he wanted to drive it. He stood there, jingling the keys, and out of the blue he said, ‘I’d lay off the booze and smoking if I were you. It could cause you a lot of trouble.’ That blew my mind.” 

“Why?” “Because the night before, I’d met up with some friends who were a little more on the wild side, and we shared a twelve-pack and some cigarettes at a picnic table in one guy’s backyard. No one was around—but I was scared to death we’d be caught. That was the first time I’d ever done anything like that. The thing is, my keys were on the table the entire evening.” “Are you saying the keys...transmitted...your secret to him?” “I have no idea. I never asked. I wasn’t about to admit my guilt, so I passed it off as a joke. But I knew he knew. I told myself he must have seen us, but I never did quite buy that. He lived on the other side of town. And he didn’t socialize with the fast crowd.” A few seconds of silence followed. The woman sounded more serious when she responded. 

“Maybe the police should check into Rachel’s story.” “It’s not going to happen, Marta. Trust me.” “Can you offer her some other options?” “Pitch the doll.” “Besides that one.” “She could always try the FBI.” “Would they be more receptive?” “Probably not. But it’s the only alternative I can think of. Hey, do you want to split this chocolate decadence thing for dessert? I won’t feel as guilty if we share it.” 

As the conversation shifted to mundane matters, Claudia set her pen down, dipped her spoon into the cooling soup, and considered her own options. The features editor at the St. Louis tabloid where she worked was always on the hunt for unusual stories. A local woman with some sort of telepathic power ought to qualify. Her tale would be a great lead for a story on ESP or clairvoyance. Claudia stirred her soup. She ought to be able to find some interesting material connecting ESP and crime-fighting too. Better yet, if she dug deep enough she might be able to put a local slant on the piece. If nothing else, a story like that should help circulation. Readers might claim they didn’t like sensational stuff, but it sold papers. Look at the National Enquirer. And anything that boosted circulation boosted advertising revenue. Her editor would love that. Too bad she hadn’t tuned into the conversation earlier. All she had was the ESP woman’s first name. Claudia propped her chin in her hand and toyed with her spoon. She should be able to trace this Rachel through the cop’s wife, though. All she had to do was check the last name on their credit card. Unless they paid in cash. Nursing her soup, Claudia listened to the exchange as the server presented the couple’s bill. Smiled when it was clear the twosome was paying by credit card. Followed the server and positioned herself behind a pillar. Ran into him as he passed on his way back to the table from running the card. Beat him to the ground picking it up as he apologized. Scanned the information she needed. You didn’t get to be an ace reporter by being meek. And ace reporter was her goal. Working at the tabloid wasn’t great, but she was only twenty-four and two years out of J-school. Everyone had to start somewhere. If she could write some unique stuff that got noticed, she could move on to bigger things sooner rather than later. After returning to her table, she jotted down the cop’s name in her notebook. Not bad for a night’s work. Spirits ticking up, she signaled for the server and ordered dessert. Maybe she’d even charge her meal to the paper. Chalk it off to research that just might pay big dividends. 

~~~~~~


Sometimes she wished she didn't have a mind that was both curious but committed to helping others if she could... She really had not choice when she saw the doll lying in the cold ice, as if it had fallen from a child's fingers. Well, she would at least dig it out of the ice and allow those in the nearby building to handle it as lost and found... At least that was her plan...

But as soon as she picked it up, she was overcome with a shocking feeling of terror. What happened as she dropped the doll and began to recover, still feeling fear, confusion, and still hanging on to the terror?

Assuming, of course, there was no question about her sanity.

Rachel had tried to think through all that had happened until she couldn't think anymore. Her first thought of going to the police was not a pleasant one--she figured they would all laugh and think she was one of those kooks who were always claiming they could help solve crimes. But, finally, she knew she had to do something; she couldn't just ignore what had happened. Perhaps the FBI would be better able to deal with a strange situation...

She shouldn’t have come. The knot in Rachel’s stomach tightened, and she squeezed her laced fingers, whitening the knuckles. Though she’d never been claustrophobic, the walls of the small, sterile interview room off the lobby in the glass and concrete FBI office building in downtown St. Louis seemed to be closing in on her. With each minute that passed—ten and a half so far—the urge to flee before she made a total fool of herself intensified. But the vibes from the doll were even stronger. Strong enough to counter the dubious glance the woman behind the bulletproof glass in the reception area had given her. And strong enough to convince her she needed to pass the Raggedy Ann on to someone who was in a position to investigate—whether they chose to or not. Based on her conversation earlier today with Marta, “not” was the likely outcome. While her co-worker had been diplomatic in relaying her husband’s comments from their dinner last night, it had been easy to read “fruitcake” between the lines. And if a local police officer thought her story lacked credibility, she had little hope the FBI would treat it with any more seriousness. But she had to try. And if she failed to convince anyone to pay attention to the odd vibes emanating from the doll stashed in the small paper shopping bag at her feet, at least she could walk away knowing she’d done her best. 

One advantage of reading a trilogy is that we know that the FBI heroes will be the last of the three we've already met in previous books. Nick, was the one that was renovating an older home and had been providing housing for the other two agents who were stationed in the area. And, we can also surmise that Nick will be immediately attracted to Rachel, LOL... That didn't happen as quickly with Rachel, she was consumed with what was happening, needing help, but didn't want to be considered some type of "crazy..." Fortunately, Nick was the type of man who spent time with those he was interviewing, so he began by getting some basic facts, even though he immediately questioned what he was hearing...

It was an interesting connection while both of the individuals were watching every move of the other. But when she pointed out she saw what he was doing, it eased both of them into moving on without any preconceptions. Until she mentioned the "vibe" she felt when she touched the doll... A Raggedy Ann Doll to be exact...

She had remembered that she had once had a similar doll, many years ago when her mother was still alive... Now she was entirely on her own. And, sometimes, like now, she wished she had somebody with whom to talk and know that individual would listen carefully and explore what might have happened... Readers will discover that Nick was such an individual to whom she began to share... 

But that didn't help in trying to discover if some type of criminal act had occurred that resulted in the "terror" that Rachel had felt. But at least Nick agreed to take the doll and it sat in his office as days and weeks went by... In the meantime, be prepared to be an avid participant as Nick and Rachel begin a relationship that was moving beyond the exploration of a rag doll. Mainly because, a local news reporter had listened in on a conversation right from the beginning and had immediately decided that Rachel was into something dealing with the paranormal... And she wanted to tell the world!

A major twist came when they learned that a young child had been kidnapped quite recently... Contact was made and the FBI from two different states started comparing investigations... And I loved how this story immediately turned into a wonderful family drama where many are finding out secrets from long ago. One of which had been held from over 35 years... Could this be the beginning of the end of frustration and discovering the kidnapped child's location?


Irene Hannon ensures that readers carefully considers all of the women involved in this unforgettable mystery of a child kidnapping... A book geared for the women in a family who will understand how one woman can consider stealing a child, creating logical excuses that makes sense o her that she is actually helping the other new mother who was overwhelmed...

Later we watch another mother who kept a secret that should have been revealed years ago, but fear had kept that woman silent, not trusting in love's survival... 

We also see a connection easily rediscovered as two strangers meet after the separation...  Each of these stories are wonderfully framed so that readers will experience both the concern that a baby has been taken, and what that might mean in the end... So that, when we discover what has actually happened, we can find empathy and sympathy for all those who are caught in various webs that could only be weaved by someone who allows God into that story... 

This book keeps you tense, on edge, but, still, secure that only good will come out of all that has been disrupted through theft, but pulled together by all those who care and support others through their jobs, their lives and through a gift of Love that only God can provide that leads to knowing that everything is goin' be alright...

Amazing Storyline! - Highly recommended!

It was going to be tight, but she would finish the mural in his dining room by her self-imposed deadline of Fourth of July. Tomorrow.

Reaching for her purse on the seat beside her, she shook her head. Talk about a photo finish. While the date hadn’t seemed unrealistic when she’d begun, progress had been far slower than she’d expected thanks to the two fingers on her right hand that continued to give her problems, the tips alternating between tingling and loss of sensation. Thank heaven the aftereffects of the frostbite were diminishing, but holding a paintbrush—or playing the piano—still proved challenging. Who would have guessed it would take two months to recover enough dexterity to perform at tea again? Or that even her simpler pieces would be so taxing? Very frustrating. Likewise for painting. Completing a scene still took far too long. She glanced at the house where she’d spent so many hours over the past two months. Although Nick didn’t seem in the least concerned that his dining room had been transformed into an art studio and had urged her not to push herself, she wanted to finish before Coop and Monica came into town with their baby for the long holiday weekend. When they gathered here tomorrow for a barbecue along with Mark and a newly expecting Emily, she wanted them to be able to appreciate the tranquility of the scene she’d painted rather than be distracted by the clutter of a work-in-progress. As she stepped out of the cool car, the stifling air of a typical Missouri July enveloped her in a muggy embrace. The holiday would be a scorcher too. But never again would she complain about the oppressive heat of St. Louis summers. The other extreme was far worse. After pulling the key Nick had given her out of her purse, she slipped it into the lock of his stately brick home. Now that school was out, she was able to put in a fair amount of time on the mural during the week while he was at work. All that remained today were a few finishing touches that shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours to complete. She turned the knob and entered the gracious foyer, reveling in the sense of homecoming she felt whenever she stepped through his door. It was even better when he was there to welcome her with a warm hug and kiss, of course—but even alone in the house on workdays like today, she felt happy and content. The same way she always felt around Nick. Once she’d deactivated the security system and set her purse on the dining room floor, she inspected her mural. Like the painting, their relationship had grown in the preceding months, taking on depth and dimension. While they both believed in the value of prudence and patience, it was clear they were headed down a serious path. Barring some sort of bizarre twist of fate, a proposal should be in the offing in the not-too-distant future. Smiling at that hopeful thought, she took a step back and tipped her head as she examined her work. It was the largest piece she’d ever tackled, but the scale and subject matter fit the room. Two rows of tall poplars receded into the distance, flanking a formal garden of patterned boxwoods, reflecting pools, and fountains. It was the kind of garden common in France or England in days gone by, and it fit the character of the Federal-style house perfectly. Restful shades of green dominated, while overflowing stone urns of flowers added spots of color. Today she’d add a few more deep pink blooms to two of them, tuck a bench into the poplars on both sides of the pool, and declare the work finished. But before she rolled up her sleeves, a detour to the kitchen was in order. If his pattern held, Nick would have left some sort of decadent bakery item for her on the counter, along with a pot of fresh-brewed coffee. On her last visit, she’d found a fabulous caramel pecan roll. What treat awaited her today? She ambled toward the foyer, pulling out her cell phone. Maybe Rebecca had a better handle on their ETA by now, delayed due to an an emergency at Colin’s office. Hopefully they’d make it in before the afternoon barbecue at Nick’s. As she hung a left toward the kitchen, she glanced toward the living room. Froze. Tucked into the front corner beside the fireplace, right where she’d pictured it the first time she’d seen this room, was a Yamaha C1X, the patina of the baby grand’s black lacquer finish gleaming in the morning light. What in the world? Slowly she walked toward it, until she was close enough to read the title on the crisp, new piece of sheet music resting on the stand: 

“Our Love Is Here to Stay.” Her signature piece. “Like it?” At the soft question, Rachel gasped and spun around. Nick stood in the doorway leading to the study, one shoulder resting against the molding, hands in the pockets of his jeans, a tender smile warming his face. “I didn’t know you were home.” “I took the day off.” “But…the security system was on.” “There aren’t any motion sensors in the study.” She waved toward the corner of the living room. “You bought a piano?” “Yep. It was delivered yesterday.” “You don’t play.” “No. But I know someone who does.” He pushed off from the doorframe and strolled toward her. An undercurrent of excitement zipped through the air as he approached, sending a tingle racing up her spine. Taking her hand, he led her toward the Yamaha. “Do you like it?” “It’s gorgeous. But Nick...these cost a fortune.” “Splurges are allowed on special occasions.” “Is this a special occasion?” “I hope so.” He guided her to the piano bench and urged her to sit. She didn’t need much persuasion. Her legs were getting more wobbly by the second. After perching beside her, he tugged the phone from her grasp, laid it beside the music stand, and lifted the piece of sheet music. She stared at his fingers. They were trembling. Just like hers...

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