Guess Who Will Be Here Friday? Roxy!!!

Guess Who Will
Be Here
Nov. 1, 2013?
Roxy Boroughs

Excerpt from

                                              By: Roxy Boroughs:

James nosed his car into the long driveway and parked. As he walked down the cracked sidewalk, movement caught his eye. Close to the house, on the other side of the peeling picket fence, April’s snowsuit-clad son was busy with his toys—a toboggan, a pintsized snow shovel, a green bucket and a plastic Superman chair. The boy seemed like an average kid, until James took a second look. Marcus wasn’t actually ‘playing’ with his toys. He was lining them up. Meticulously.

“Hi, Marcus.”

The child didn’t acknowledge him, just went right on placing his things in a row, howling in aggravation each time the shovel he’d stuck in the snow fell over.

“Jimmy...if you’re planning to play outside with us, you’re gonna need a hat.”

He’d been so intrigued with Marcus, he hadn’t noticed April’s approach. “Considering the time of year, maybe I should get one like Santa’s,” he replied.

Her hat was a teal knit, the same color as her car-length coat. The material almost matched the shade of her eyes. He’d often gazed at her, trying to decide if they were blue or green. Depending on what she wore, and her mood, her eyes seemed to change—blue if she was overtired, green if she was excited.

Always green after a thorough kissing.

He heard a hiss and snapped out of it. At his feet, a well-fed black and white cat stared up at him, indignant. A dark mask of fur ran around the feline’s eyes, making him look like a chubby Zorro.

“Don’t mind Bandit. He’s kind of territorial.”

“Ya think?”

Bandit batted the air with his paw, clearly a challenge for James to put up his dukes and fight it out. Mano-a-mano.

Weird. Animals usually liked him. Kids, too. James felt like Tiger Woods at the 2013 U.S. Open. Completely off his game.

He glanced over at Marcus again, who was now making snowballs. Instead of throwing them, he was stacking the balls one on top of the other like a mile-high ice cream cone, shouting his frustration whenever they fell over.

“It’s good that he can play outside here. It’s quiet enough, not a lot of traffic. Kids like Marcus have a tendency to run out into the street, because they’re unaware of the danger.”

Normally, James wouldn’t have asked, but she’d opened the door on the subject. “I’ve heard he’s autistic. What is that, exactly?”

“It’s a developmental disorder.” She smoothed a strand of hair from her face and looked at her son with a mix of love and worry. “It affects his ability to communicate and interact socially.”

“So, the other day, when he was flapping his arms and—”

“It’s called stimming, short for self-stimulation. It helps him cope with the world when there are too many sights and sounds for him to process.”

James noticed the dark smudges under her eyes. “And how do you cope?”

She let out a breath. The chilly vapors surrounded her face like a wreath. “Sometimes, I feel as isolated in the world as he must. But it’s what I signed up for. I trained as a teacher for special needs kids, so I’m able to home school him and coach him with his developmental skills. I get discouraged now and then, but I forget all about the downside when I see him make a breakthrough.”

She licked her lips, drawing James’ attention to them all the more. He could still remember kissing her. She’d tasted like cherry bubblegum, smelled of shampoo, and the sight of her pulse beating madly at the base of her neck used to be enough to drive him over the edge.

He cleared his throat. Unfortunately, it did nothing to clear his head. “Where’s the boy’s father?” He shouldn’t ask, but couldn’t stop himself. A part of him wanted to see the guy pull his weight. A bigger part wanted the guy out of the picture entirely. For selfish reasons.

All of which involved April and that luscious mouth.

* * *

James’ expression turned hard, possessive. And that hungry look in his eyes set April’s heart kicking against her ribs with the fervor of a wild bronco.

Where was the boy’s father? “I don’t know,” she answered truthfully. “I never met the man. Or the woman who gave birth to Marcus.”

James was quiet for a moment, and then his brows shot up. “He’s adopted?”

“Yup. I’m a single mom.”

“That’s great.” His quick smile faded. “I mean, it’s great you’re giving a home to a kid who needs one. But doing it all on your own—that must be rough.”

So was his jaw, dusted with the right amount of stubble to give him an air of danger. She wanted to reach up and touch his cheek, let that roughness caress her palm. Was she crazy to feel this attraction to him after all these years?

Whatever he’d done to send her teenage endorphins skyrocketing tripled now that he was a man. And that spiced-up cologne he wore? She wanted to bury her face against his neck and breathe him in for the next half hour.

“I manage,” she said, took a step back and grabbed hold of one of the fence slats—something solid to remind her about the differences between reality and fantasy. The wood was reality. Marcus was reality. Making this month’s credit card payment was a harsh reality.

Jimmy was a fantasy, her emotions clouded by the memory of the boy she’d once loved. They’d both changed, she was sure of it. She certainly had. Sudden motherhood did that to a girl.

Besides, Jimmy had been the one to reject her in the end…

I had to include this book in with this because I wanted all my readers to see this and make a real effort to get you to see something that can make a difference for everyone.  Not only can you send a friend who loves Romance stories through e-books but you could be helping fight cancer.  I am proud to say not only is this author but our next author the one that wrote the third book in this trilogy is the other author Brenda Collins.  I would like to say as Thank you to both these ladies especially since cancer seems to effect just about every household these days.  Bravo ladies!!!



Stories of Chance Romance

Here’s to finding love in any place, at any time!

This collection of eleven short stories of chance romance reflects the hope that comes with the first bloom of romance, whether you find it in your youth, midlife, or the twilight years.

We dedicate Stories of Chance Romance to all the women who face breast cancer and to the teams of family, friends and medical professionals who support them on their journey.

Like so many woman, we have been closely and personally touched by this disease. Roxy was diagnosed and successfully treated in 2010
the same year Brenda lost her very dear friend, Mary Beggan, to breast cancer.

All authors
profits from the sale of this anthology are being donated to advance the research, education, diagnosis and treatment of breast cancer.



  1. Thanks so much for featuring our STORIES OF CHANCE ROMANCE. As both of us have had breast cancer enter our lives, we're passionate about doing our part to help find a cure.

  2. I am just so happy to do it for you . as I to am a cancer survivor, thyroid, yet still cancer. Celebrated my second year clean in Sept. So, totally my pleasure. :D

  3. So many of our readers have been touched by cancer themselves, or through family or friends, we all try to do our small part to help.
    I'm so pleased that our holiday series has given me an opportunity to meet you, Char, and thank you for profiling Roxy's book - she's such an awesome storyteller.


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