Under Renovation will be available next week! In case you can't possibly wait that long, here's a fun excerpt to keep you entertained! Keep your eyes on the News page for updates, coming soon!
The following scene takes place just following the first time Quinn and Theo have met. He has volunteered to help her with set-building projects at the community theater. His young son Oliver (7), is a student in the program. At this point in the story, Quinn hasn't learned about Theo's late wife (not a spoiler, that's in the summary) and can't figure out WHY he's still wearing a ring...
----- from Chapter Five, Under Renovation -----
Theo and Oliver walked into the auditorium on time, holding hands while the little Miller gave his dad a full tour. Side by side, Oliver looked like his tiny clone, right down to the dimples.
"Miss Quinn!” Oliver is possibly the happiest, most excitable child I’ve ever known. “This is my dad!”
“Yes, we met on Tuesday, remember?” I made eye contact with Theo, who seemed equally amused. “I’m so happy you’re both here! Shall we get to work, gentlemen?”
Oliver joined the other kids for a vocal warmup with Faith, my best friend and the program's director. Theo and I headed for the workshop backstage. The best way to get a newbie acclimated to the tech life is with a power drill. Theo said he’d be more comfortable trying out tech stuff, but I had no idea if he was the handy type. If he isn’t, he will be by the time I’ve finished with him.
“The next thing on my to-do list is a second staircase. It needs to match this one.” I kicked the first one with the toe of my shoe. “Well, it’s only three steps, so I guess you can’t call it a whole case of stairs, but you get what I’m saying.”
“I can do that,” he said, encouraged. Theo headed right for the two-by-fours stacked in the corner and plugged in the power drill nearby. He sat down on the floor and started laying out the materials, ready to go. It seems I won’t be teaching much today.
I picked up a second drill and sat on the floor nearby, in front of my own project, but couldn’t focus right away. I admired him working, fully concentrating, hands steady. A man using power tools is… hot? I let my mind wander to, uh… places. Theo raised his head and we made eye contact. Busted.
I blurted the first words that came to mind. “You clearly don’t need my supervision.”
“No,” he said with a shrug. “But I enjoy your company.”
“That’s good,” I said with a smile. “Because you’re stuck with me all day.”
“Eh, it’s not so bad,” he teased. “What are you working on?”
“This bad boy right here,” I pointed to the upside down 4x4 platform in front of me. “Needs some legs before we can use it. This will go on the stage—with the stairs on either side so the kids can get up and down. We’ll need two more of these to make the whole thing.
Theo noticed the drill in my hand and slid the box of screws across the dusty floor in my direction.
“So, Theo,” I began nervously. “What do you do for work?”
“I’m a project manager,” he said. Whirrrrr.
“Is that like a contractor?”
“I work with contractors, but it’s a different thing,” he explained. “Basically, I manage the entire construction project from beginning to end. So, I work with the client, the architect, and the different kinds of contractors to make sure everything gets done right, on time, and within the budget.”
“That’s… cool. I mean, it sounds like it could be interesting.”
“It’s a lot like what you do here, to be honest. Instead of a construction job, it’s a show. And you’re managing all these tech projects, making sure it all gets done.”
“Maybe, but it’s Faith’s program. I just volunteer.”
“I think that would technically make her your client,” he said with a grin. “Somebody’s gotta make sure the kids have a floor for tap dancing.”
“And I guess that would make you one of my contractors…”
He laughed, lining up the top of the second stair. Theo was working quickly—I was impressed.
“So where are you guys from? You said you just moved here, right?”
“Yeah, Oliver and I moved from Chicago in January. I grew up a few towns over from here, but I got married and stayed in Illinois after college,” he paused. Whirrrrr. “The company I work for opened a Boston location and they offered me a promotion if I transferred.”
“So here you are.”
“So here I am. It made sense to come home,” he said, eyes still on the drill. “Since it was just the two of us, I wanted Oliver to have more family around. My parents are still living in the house where I grew up. I bought a house here though, didn’t want to be too close to Mom and Dad.”
“Sure,” I said, trying to focus on my job. Let’s review… only he and Oliver moved to Boston, to be closer to family. Where was his wife? Were they separated? He wouldn’t move so far away from his son’s mother if it were temporary. So maybe divorced? But then, he probably wouldn’t still have a wedding ring on. Was she in the military and deployed somewhere? The ring made more sense if that were true, but why would someone move in the middle of their spouse’s tour?
Faith often criticized me for being too nosy, so I decided to just drop it. Something was not lining up, but it was none of my business. Time for a subject change…
“So, what do you do for fun?” I asked.
“Let’s see… cooking, going to the movies on rainy days, hiking with Ollie… I also enjoy crossword puzzles and long walks on the beach.” He looked up, finally, and we smiled at each other. “Is my interview over now?”
“What can I say? You’re more interesting than I am.”
“I doubt that,” he said with a grin. “What does the talented Miss Quinn do outside the theater?”
“Lots of stuff,” I hesitated, searching for a concise way to explain it all. I gave up. “It’s… complicated.”
“Okay…?” Theo pulled the first staircase toward him and tried to tighten some of the screws, but they were perfect, obviously. No adjustments required. Satisfied, he moved closer to me.
“Mostly, I’m just the president of a charity foundation.”
“Just?” he said, handing me a couple screws to finish the second leg. “That sounds like a big deal.”
I shrugged. “It’s only a few days a week, plus events.”
“And? I sense the list goes on…”
“I help out at my uncle’s bar a couple times a week.”
“You’re a bartender?”
“Me?” I couldn’t help it, I laughed. I could only imagine Shawn and Charlie letting me pour drinks. They don’t even let me mix my own drinks. That’s on par with letting Charlie file his own taxes. “No, back office stuff, mostly accounting. I started helping him when…” Nope. “A while ago.”
“Charity president, theater director, private accountant.” He counted it all out on his fingers. “Any other pursuits?”
“Volunteering, here and there,” I added. “I spend most of my free time at the animal shelter, the library, and the senior center. And I like to help out with the soccer team fundraisers when I can.”
“Wow,” he said, with a playful smirk on his face. “It’s just too bad you don’t have enough to keep you busy.”
“I’m sure I could find some room on my calendar somewhere…” I countered. That was a little more forward than I’d planned on being, but the more I talked to him, the braver I got. “If I needed to.”
He raised his eyebrow at me with the hint of a smile on his lips. And in that moment, I realized two things. One, that he was absolutely, totally, devastatingly handsome. Second, that he seemed reasonably receptive to the idea of spending time with me on purpose.
“Alright,” I said, switching gears. For my own safety. “There are two legs left to attach to this platform. You’ve got a drill; I’ve got a drill. I’ll race you.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” he asked, with that charming expression still on his face.
“Okay fine,” he smirked, narrowing his eyes. It was kinda sexy. No, it was a lot sexy. “You’re on.”
“Ready?” He nodded. “Set?” He focused on his hands, lining up the drill and the screw. “Go!”
I worked quickly, driving two screws into one side of the platform, straight into the leg. Then I scooted around and did the same thing to the other side. I should’ve set a timer for myself. I might’ve broken my previous record.
“Done!” I shouted, putting my hands up. And just a split second after me, Theo did the same. “Oooh, so close! Sorry, Miller.”
He scowled. “That was definitely a tie. And even if you were a second faster than me, which you weren’t,” he said, with mock defensiveness. I tilted my head. “It’s only because your hands are so little. Easier to move around the tight spots.”
“Don’t hate the player,” I said defiantly. Standing up, I placed two hands beneath one side of the platform. “Can you help me flip this thing?”
Theo got up, grabbed the side opposite me, and we turned it over. Then I climbed on top of it, about a foot from the floor, and jumped up and down a couple times.
“I like to test these out before a bunch of kids dance on them.”
Riding that wave of boldness, bolstered by the adrenaline of competition, I forgot to be nervous. I extended a hand to Theo and said, “Get up here.”
And he did.
“Look how confident I am in your carpentry skills,” he said, then stomped his feet a few times. “Seems as sturdy as my corner.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I laughed, then performed a perfect time-step over his side. Ten years of tap dance lessons, all preparing me for that moment… “It’ll do.”
I laughed and swatted him on the arm—which was precisely the moment my adrenaline dissipated. Physical contact was just a tad too far under the circumstances—wasn’t it? Theo grabbed his arm, feigning injury, and stepped toward me.
“Ouch, Miss Quinn…” he said, trying not to laugh.
“If that hurt,” I said, boldly looking him in the eye. “Then you don’t wanna see my right hook.”
He smiled, and the mood suddenly shifted. We both seemed to realize how close together we were, just inches away. My heart pounded. More adrenaline, right? Nothing to do with his eyes. I desperately wanted to ask about his wife. She wasn’t around—where was she? And is it okay to be staring at him like this?
“Well,” I said, blinking. The reminder was sobering. “We still need two more of these. No racing this time. I don’t want to embarrass you twice in one day. You’d never come back.”
He nodded, laughing, but didn’t speak again for a while. It also took us an extra minute to climb down.
That's right... I'm back! It's been a very challenging few years for my writing. What can I say? Some of that life stuff just got in the way of my writing. But all this time, since publishing Socially Awkward in 2012, all I've wanted was to get back to telling stories.
And here I am!
It has taken more than a year and a half to properly tell the story of Quinn Davis and Theo Miller, but it was worth the wait. This book confronts the effects of devastating loss and the challenge of rebuilding yourself and your life. Sure, Under Renovation will give you plenty of reasons to cry, but you'll fall in love with these characters as they find a way to love each other... and of course, I can guarantee plenty of laughs along the way.
Keep an eye on my website for an official summary, publication date, and information on a special launch party coming later this month!
I have always loved the library. I mean, what a genius idea the library is… A great big building dedicated to reading? Where people come together to enjoy books, appreciate quiet, and steal some slow and peaceful moments away from the hustling, bustling world? It should come as no surprise that a girl like me loves the library so much. That’s the perfect place for an introvert with nerdy tendencies and a passion for literature.
But there is another weird reason why the library has become my go-to spot when the kids need to get out of the house (seriously, I’m in there a couple times a week during the school year). It’s not having kids, although I do love to bring them there on rainy days so they can play with the toys, pretend in the puppet show theater, and pick out a few good bedtime stories to bring home. It’s not the ever-growing list of movie titles (including documentaries, mainstream flicks, kids’ programs, series, and even exercise DVDs).
So what is it? The library has cured my need for compulsive shopping. Yes, I will admit it: I have a bad compulsive shopping habit. Now, it is a mild habit in comparison to those people you see on Hoarders or Intervention or something. I don’t have thousands and thousands of dollars in debt. That’s where I curb my problem. However, I can drop a pretty penny faster than most people I know if left off the leash for too long. But the library is my outlet now.
When I visit the library, I can scan shelves galore until my heart’s content. I can grab a bag and fill it up. Fiction, nonfiction, DVD, you name it. Then when I go to the checkout register, there’s no bill. I take everything in my bag and my little receipt with the due dates on it and I go home. Not a penny spent. See, for me, it’s always been about the acquisition, not the spending. Now, I can take home whatever I want for a whole month (usually) and not be worried about a credit card bill.
Ahhh, pure bliss. I don't think it gets more magical than that.
When I think about how many years it's been since I published my last book, it’s hard not to think about all the things I’ve left unfinished in the past. I don’t like to talk about these things because I’d prefer it if everyone thought, “Oh wow, that girl’s got amazing follow-through!” Because when you’re a kid you always hear, “You can do anything you put your mind too!”
Well, I put my mind to a lot of things and sometimes I get distracted. I’ve had a lot of failed blogs, lots of false starts on new novels, and I have an entire file folder called "Unfinished" that is dedicated to empty documents with really great short story titles. Do I get bored? Am I obsessed with the feeling that newness brings? How easily am I seduced by novelty?
Thinking about failure like this is a quick way to make a girl depressed, let me tell you. If you sum my life up as a resume of things I started and didn’t finished, it wouldn’t fit on one page… also, it’d be the lamest resume ever created in the history of humankind. Does the resume of things I have completed stand up?
But in my usual fickle way, one that annoyingly-optimistic Pollyanna would be proud to have inspired, I eventually turn to look at things like this from a positive perspective. After all, everything has a light side… clouds with silver linings and what not. Cliches aside, I can probably say that I start more than most people. So I don’t finish everything. Who can? I do the best I can and I know when to cut my losses or shift gears or whatever you want to call it.
If I look at that list of started novels–that paranormal series, that private eye series, those books in the Garden Variety romance series, books for Phoebe and Mackenzie and Kimmy and Bernsie, Superheroes (there’s a winner… ugh), Thirty or Bust, or Rent This (oh, college)...oh god, there are so many more–at least I can be proud that I opened up a document and started typing. Not all words need to have a destination, they’re all part of the journey.
Ooh! Can I use that line in a book somewhere?
Anyway, I hope you see my point. If you’ve got a 100% completion rate but you’ve only ever started two or three things in your entire life, is that better than a 25% completion rate when you’ve started two or three hundred things? Ask Tom Brady, I’d bet he’d rather throw the ball more often than not, even if his teammates can’t get underneath it every time. Because who knows which one of those will be a touchdown pass?
Maybe I just need to work on my aim.
So I’m a writer, right? And writers, to perfect their craft, have to read. Actually, nine times out of ten, writers become writers just because of how much they love to read. I find myself wanting to write the stories I haven’t read yet, creating the characters I haven’t met yet…and the like.
So I’m a reader, too. And I read a lot. Not as much as my sister, who devours entire novels in a day. Honestly, no one reads like her. But compared to the average person, I eat books for breakfast. Because of this, it makes me sad when I hear people say things like “I don’t have time to read!” or “I can’t get into any books right now!” and other stuff like that. Reading is a dying past-time, from my perspective, and I can’t understand why, especially with e-books and Kindles and stuff. I don’t have tons of time on my hands — what with writing novels, freelance writing, raising two kids, keeping the house (mostly) clean, taking care of the dogs, and working on the occasional community theater production, etc. — but I squeeze it in. Even if it’s only a few pages a day – when the kids are at school, just before bed. Whenever.
Years ago, I was one of those people who didn’t have time to read. Or so I thought. The first New Year’s resolution I ever kept was to read more – one book a month, to be exact. That was in 2004. I’ve read at least one book a month for the past 13 years thanks to that resolution. Now, I’m reading more like one and a half to two books a month. Right now, it’s August and I’ve just started my tenth book of the year.
So why do I do it? It’s the one thing I enjoy that doesn’t take up tons of time or require that I go anywhere or wear something special. I can read a little or a lot, whenever I have the chance. With two kids at early school age, writing sometimes requires more brain power than I can scrape together. Still, I can't stop loving literature just because I've had to take a pause in my writing career.
I’m glad I’ve rediscovered my love of books and I won’t be giving it up any time soon. And between my packed shelf of “Books to Read” and those ebooks on my tablet, I’m gonna be busy for many months to come. But just think of all the inspiration – and enjoyment – it will bring me.