Tag: motherhood | Frankie Bow

July 28, 2019

The Perfect Body #SampleSunday

The Perfect Body

When Professor Molly attends Mahina State University’s exclusive donor dinner, she doesn’t expect to share a table with the insufferable Stephen Park. Turns out it’s one thing to invite your toxic ex-boyfriend to drop dead…it’s quite another when he takes you up on it.

Excerpt

It was only after we were all seated that I noticed Stephen looked different. His black dress shirt was snug over his shoulders, and his neck was thicker (either that or he’d shortened his bolo tie). He looked like he’d been lifting weights, something I’d never known him to do before.

Aside from the new muscles, he was the same old Stephen Park. His jet-black hair was pulled back in a ponytail, as always. Defying the usual order of things, his hairline had advanced, rather than receded. Stephen’s parents owned Park Beverly Hills Aesthetic Center. Each time he flew to Southern California to visit them, he came back looking a little younger.

But I noticed glints of silver at Stephen’s roots. The eternally-youthful Stephen Park was finally going gray.

It had been a long time, I realized. Years. Maybe it was time to let old resentments go.

“We’re very lucky tonight, Bee,” Stephen started in as he reached for the bread basket. “We get to sit with the world’s happiest couple. Isn’t it marvelous?”

Apparently not everyone was letting things go. Stephen liked to poke fun at my “bourgeois conformity.” I had moved on and gotten married, he hadn’t, and this was his way of getting back at me. Well, I wasn’t going to take the bait. The only thing to do was to maintain a dignified silence.

“Wow, Stephen,” I said, “it looks like you lost all of that weight you gained after rehab. Between that and the gray hair, I almost didn’t recognize you.”

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July 14, 2019July 14, 2019

Mother's Day #SampleSunday

Mother’s Day

With her round-the-clock morning sickness, along with “helpful” pregnancy advice coming in from every direction, Professor Molly can’t wait for the registration rush to be over so she can settle into teaching her classes.

That’s when Mahina State’s powerful fundraising office tasks her with a special assignment: to serve as the personal tutierge (that’s tutor-concierge) to Jeremy Brigham, whose mother happens to be fabulously wealthy and gravely ill.

But once inside the Brigham House, Molly realizes something is very wrong. And she has to decide whether to mind her own business and keep her job, or risk everything to prevent a murder.

Excerpt

I could never remember Victor Santiago’s actual job title. As far as I could tell, his duties involved cozying up to potential donors and scolding faculty members whose unruly behavior threatened to tarnish our Institutional Image.
“Professor Barda.” Victor half-rose as I entered his office and shook my hand, in precisely the way you’d greet someone you could barely stand. “Please. Have a seat.”
I sat down as directed and stared at the plaque on Victor’s desk, trying (once again) to memorize it:
Victor Santiago, (M.Ed., MBA) Vice-President for Student Outreach and Community Relations.
Alas, I’d forget it (again) as soon as I walked out the door.
“We’re rolling out an exciting new program,” Victor said, without any excitement whatsoever. Victor did not waste his charm on faculty members. “We call it the Young Leaders Program. It’s a targeted, high-touch, boutique program for our valued student stakeholders.”
“Sounds great.”
“We’re piloting the program this semester with a student named Jeremy Brigham. You’re familiar with the Brigham family, I assume.”
I shook my head.
“Jeremy’s late father was Alexander Brigham, a direct descendant of Hiram Brigham.”
“Hiram Brigham, of course.” I vaguely recalled something about a planter son of a missionary who had married a Hawaiian princess. The confluence of money, land holdings, and political connections had catapulted the Brigham family into Hawaii’s elite.
“Jeremy Brigham has had to withdraw from his classes due to illness.”
“I’m sorry to hear it.”
“Fortunately, under our new Young Leaders Program, Mr. Brigham will receive daily tutoring sessions to keep him on track for graduation.”
“That sounds like a great idea,” I said. “Very compassionate.”
What does all this have to do with me? I wondered. If Jeremy Brigham were a management major, I’d know his name by now.
“Is Jeremy Brigham a management major?” I asked.
“No. Psychology. But they can’t spare anyone, so we’re inviting you to serve as Mr. Brigham’s tutierge.”
“Me? Excuse me, his what?”
“Tutierge. Tutor-Concierge.”
“I see. Well, that’s immensely flattering. But I’m the chair of the management department. Why would you choose me for such an important job?”
I wondered how Victor would manage to answer this question without saying anything positive about me. He did not disappoint.
“Your elective didn’t fill. Your participation in our pilot of the Young Leaders Program gives you a way to discharge your teaching obligations. Without having to pay part of your salary back.”
“Pay my…what? I thought I just had to do more research or something if my class didn’t make. I have to pay my salary back if my class is canceled?”
“Your union agreed to the terms, Professor Barda. To those of us without tenure or summers off, it seems more than fair.”
I didn’t bother to reply that my summers were unpaid, which was very different from having summers off. Especially when I always got stuck doing work over the summer anyway. And tenure was great, but it didn’t mean I couldn’t get fired. It only meant the administration had to put in a little more paperwork to do it.
“No, that sounds great,” I said. “I’d be thrilled. What am I teaching him?”
“Statistics.”
“Stats? I’ve never even taken a stats class, let alone taught one.”
“It won’t be a problem for you. It’s the intro class. I’ll have my assistant send over your schedule and textbook. You and I will make the initial visit together. And remember, Professor Barda.”
Victor fixed me with his unsmiling gaze.
“Your students don’t care how much you know, until they know how much you care. We’ll start on Monday. Meet me here at my office at seven-thirty.”
“In the morning?”
“Yes. In the morning.”

Mother’s Day is available on these platforms

May 12, 2019June 2, 2019

Mother's Day: The Novella #SampleSunday

Mother’s Day

It’s the start of the semester, and Professor Molly is dealing with the joys of being department chair: The last-minute scramble to hire adjunct instructors, the confused students caught between payment deadlines and late financial aid checks, and the mountain of paperwork required by the administration’s latest half-baked “student success” initiatives. With her round-the-clock morning sickness (along with “helpful” pregnancy advice coming in from every direction), Molly can’t wait for the registration rush to be over so she can settle into teaching her classes.
But then Mahina State’s powerful fundraising office tasks her with a special assignment: she is to serve as the personal tutierge (that’s tutor-concierge) to Jeremy Brigham, whose mother happens to be fabulously wealthy and gravely ill.
But once inside the Brigham House, Molly realizes something is very wrong. And she has to decide whether to mind her own business and keep her job, or risk everything to prevent a murder.

Excerpt

Russian Road wasn’t far from campus, and I would have been happy to meet Victor Santiago there. But he clearly didn’t trust me to find my own way.
And he insisted on driving. I believe he would have preferred to commit seppuku rather than show up at a donor’s house in my turquoise-and-white 1959 Thunderbird.
I sat in the passenger seat of Victor’s Lexus and checked my email as he drove. Then I texted Donnie:
ME: With Victor from marketing. On my way to be a “tutierge.” That’s a combination of tutor and concierge.
DONNIE: I know you’ll do a great job. Darlene brought in a book for you.
ME: Who is Darlene?
DONNIE: the shift manager
ME: Is it what to expect etc.?
DONNIE: Yes how did you know?
ME: My mother sent me a copy already
DONNIE: I’ll keep this one then. If your mother recommends it must be good. BTW she called me, would like you to call her back. Have to go. Love you.
Then I texted my friend Emma Nakamura. Between her paddling practice, her teaching schedule, and some book project she was working on, I hadn’t seen much of her since the semester began.
ME: With Victor from marketing. On my way to be a tutierge. That’s a combination of tutor and concierge.
EMMA:
As much as I loved my husband, sometimes Emma understood me better.

Mother’s Day is available on these platforms

April 30, 2019

Mother's Day Mysteries

Mother’s Day is Sunday, May 12 or thereabouts (depending on what country you live in). There’s no better time to treat yourself to a Mother’s Day-Themed mystery.

Margaritas & Murder by Cece Osgood

In honor of Mother’s Day, meet Marsha, Sunny Truly’s mom. Marsha doesn’t like her daughter’s new job as a rookie private eye. She was so proud of Sunny being a history teacher but then that awful You Tube “incident” got Sunny fired.

Now, Marsha has a lot more to worry about — like her daughter’s penchant for solving mysteries and encountering creepy killers.

Filigrees, Fortunes and Foul Play by Emily Selby

Katie is busy enough as a single mom with a series of dead-end jobs. She barely has time for her passion-paper crafting.
But when one of her housecleaning clients turns up dead, stabbed with a paper crafting tool, Katie is in trouble.
She has her own ideas about who the real murderer is, but the lead inspector won’t listen.
Can she dig up evidence before another victim drops dead? Or will she take the fall for a crime she didn’t commit?

Mother’s Day (A Professor Molly Novelette)

Pregnant Professor Molly is battling morning sickness, a meddling mom, and the unwanted “help” of the Student Retention Office.
The last thing she needs on her to-do list is a murder.
But here we are.

April 14, 2019

The Blessed Event will be on sale for $0.99 from Monday, 4/15 to Monday, 4/22 #SampleSunday

The Blessed Event

“You may wonder what my least-favorite student was doing in my living room. In a twist of fate that might seem hilarious if it happened to someone else, he was now my stepson.”
Professor Molly Barda is looking forward to a quiet summer in Mahina, Hawaii working on her research and adjusting to married life. But when a visit from her new husband’s relatives coincides with a murder, Molly wonders what she’s married into–and realizes she might have a killer under her roof.

The Blessed Event is the only book in the Professor Molly series published by Amazon’s Kindle Press. It was selected through Kindle Scout, a competitive platform powered by reader feedback.
Here are some of the editors’ comments:

Readers clearly loved your work and editors also raved about it.
It’s light-hearted, funny, and smart
The author does an excellent job making all of the characters likable, even when they do unlikable things…The story is also peppered with a variety of humorous minor characters that greatly contribute to the verisimilitude of the world-building and setting.
Very entertaining
The humor is great – there were several LOL moments.
It’s a light read, but it’s also a smart read. The author’s insights on the characters and the absurdities of their situations are compelling and give the book a sense of satisfying substance.

Excerpt

I knew I should get to work on my book chapter, but as long as I was thinking of it, maybe I’d have another look around for my missing jewelry. I had daylight and might see something I’d overlooked the night before. I took a small flashlight from the kitchen utility drawer, went back into the bedroom, and raked the light over the floor.

There was scarcely a dust mote in evidence, let alone a glittering pair of pear-shaped diamonds or a gem-encrusted necklace. I shone the light behind the dresser, illuminating a light coating of dust on the wall. Alas, no jewelry. I shone the light around the floor again, with the same result.

I hadn’t heard Davison come in. He must have stayed out all night. This was my chance. If I found my jewelry in his room, I could just steal it back. What could he say about it? Donnie certainly wouldn’t approve of my snooping in his son’s room, so I’d have to do it when they were both out of the house.

The guest room door was ajar. I knocked gently. When there was no answer, I knocked harder, and then pushed the door open.

I stood, listening for Davison clumping up the front steps. Or Donnie turning his key in the door. What if one of them walked in on me? I would simply say I was tidying up or looking for a spare fire extinguisher or something.

I tiptoed into the room.

The air was heavy with cloying cologne and a ripe, meaty aroma. Davison’s backpack lay in the middle of the floor, exactly where someone would be most likely to trip on it.

I picked up the backpack and shook it. It was disappointingly light. Inside I found a pen, a yellowed receipt, and a single sock, but no jewelry. I turned it upside-down, shook it again, and then searched for hidden pockets. Nothing.

Then I tried the chest of drawers. I rooted through the anarchy of socks and boxer briefs in the top drawer. Where better to hide something valuable? But I found nothing.

The next drawer down had a few rolled-up tank tops and a couple of pairs of shorts. The shorts pockets contained some loose change, lint, and a few crumbs of what looked like oregano. The next two drawers were empty. The closet was bare except for a few forlorn hangers.

There was one more obvious place to look. If Davison hadn’t already fenced my jewelry, it might be hidden under the mattress. I paused and listened, but didn’t hear anything out of the ordinary. A car drove by; a lawnmower hummed in the distance.

I grabbed an armload of blankets and lifted them off the mattress.

I did not expect to see Davison lying on the bed in his boxer shorts.

I yelped and dropped the blankets back down on top of him. He pushed them out of the way and sat up, grinning.

“Eh, just let me brush my teeth first.”

“Davison! What are you doing here? I thought you were out.”

“What are you doing here, Molly?”

“I was looking for something.”

He held his arms out, displaying his hairless chest and his bristling armpits. A baby beer belly pooched out over the top of his boxer shorts.

“You find what you’re looking for?” he asked.

“Stop it. Davison, why didn’t you say anything when I knocked?”

“How come you’re in my room?”

“I’m looking for a fire extinguisher. I don’t have to explain myself.”