My favorite series of 2020
During the lockdown, I’ve ad plenty of time to binge-watch. There have been some good ones, but the one show I watched was above and beyond my favorite. Schitt’s Creek. If you haven’t seen it. What are you waiting for?
I’ve seen all the advertisements about it and saw the many awards its won. Still, it didn’t look like a show I’d enjoy. I’d watched reruns of some of my favorite, but decided to try something new. My daughter in law spoke highly of the show, so I thought, what the hell, and started watching it. From the first episode on, I was hooked. I love the characters, but my favorite is David. He plays a snooty upperclassman so perfectly. His wardrobe was so interesting. All year round he wore sweaters. I had no idea he was the son of Eugene Levy or that his sister played Twyla. I grew up watching Eugene Levy and Catherine O’Hara on a series called, SCTV. It was a Canadian skit comedy similar to Saturday night live. When they started branching out in Movies, I followed along. Another of the actors in the series was John Candy. You might remember them from a classic little movie called Home Alone.
Anyway. Watching this mostly Canadian cast as they went from snotty rich people trying to adjust to a new life being poor left me in stitches. The wardrobe and wigs Catherine O’Hara had were astounding. I would die for some of her stuff. They did a wonderful job showing how when the chips are down, you do what you have to do to get by. They soon gathered friends and became part of the community. When I discovered there were only six seasons, I was sad to see it end. They did a wonderful job of tieing it all up and managed to bring me to tears. Which says a lot because I rarely do at shows or movies. It’s a show I will likely watch several times in reruns.
Leave me a comment for a chance to win a copy of my latest release, Secrets of the Dead, or a gift card from Amazon. And hey, why not share with me your thoughts on the show, if you watched it.
Now, here is a look at my latest release.
Secrets of the Dead.
Coltrane is a die-hard sceptic who believes that ghosts and
paranormal activity are nothing more than a figment of an overactive
imagination. That is until she finds herself locked inside a haunted
house with the enigmatic paranormal investigator C.J. Dowling.
Born with the ability to see and speak to the dead, C.J. Dowling thought investigating a haunted house would be a job like many others. He’s prepared for anything—except smart and sexy Jessica.
Working together in close quarters, C.J. and Jessica discover it isn’t only negative tension between the two, but sexual as well. Giving in to their desires seemed like a good idea at the time until they wake and find the spirits thought otherwise. Trapped with the ghost of a child long forgotten, an amorous entity that is threatening Jessica, and a powder keg of a spine-tingling mystery that might be better left buried.
Something tickled her nose. Using her hand, she tried to swipe it away and felt the brush of hair against her knuckles. Planting her hand, she felt the warm flesh beneath her palm.
Recognition hit and woke her with an angry slap. Eyes shooting open, she sat up quickly and instantly regretted it when the room spun wildly around her. Laying back down, closing her eyes, she waited out the dizziness the hangover caused. Her mind raced to the night before.
The soft ache in her loins reminded her of what she’d done. Carefully opening her eyes, she turned her head to see a naked C.J. beside her.
“Oh, God.” She looked over his naked body, remembering how good it felt having him inside her. She hadn’t been that drunk that she couldn’t remember the event, and lord, what an event it had been. They had literally torn each other’s clothing off. She’d been an animal, which was so not like her.
What did they do now? Would they go on as they had been, sniping at each other, treat this as a one-night fling and move on? In truth, the guy irritated the hell out of her, yet he’d made her feel so incredible the night before. How was she supposed to respond to him now, after sharing something so intimate?
“Dowling,” she spoke quietly. “Dowling.” When he moaned, she slapped his chest. “Dowling!”
“I’m awake.” He looked at her with a smile. “Morning.” Then his eyes went wide. “Holy hell.” He bolted upright and jumped to his feet, nearly knocking her over. “Oh, my God.”
“What the hell?” The sofa stood on its end, two sitting chairs slammed up right against it, all pushed against the window. The coffee and end tables stood one on top of the other, in front of the fireplace.
Carefully, Jessie stood up, waiting out the dizziness. She had to rub her eyes to make sure she wasn’t seeing things. It looked like a hurricane had blown through. “How…”
“I need to check my equipment.” He flew off, still nude, and she got one hell of a look at his ass.
She saw her shirt by the fireplace, straps torn. She couldn’t exactly wear it in its condition. Spotting his shirt hanging over the couch, she grabbed it and put it on. It barely covered her, but would have to do for now.
“This is incredible. The meters went off the scale. The temperature recorded several degrees below freezing at one point. It didn’t last long, though, as it rose exponentially. And we slept through it all. Damn, I have never seen anything like this before. It’s phenomenal.”
“You’re naked, you know?”
“What?” He didn’t even look up.
“You’re naked.” She tossed him his jeans, hitting him square in the face.
Unaffected by it, he grabbed the jeans and slipped into them using his free hand. It amused her to watch him shimmy into his tight jeans, jumping from one foot to the other. “The cameras!” He rushed to the video equipment as he did up his pants. “Do you know what this means?”
“That you were a busy boy last night.”
He looked at her, confused. “Beg pardon?”
“I don’t know how you managed it all alone, but I give you credit for a job well done.”
“You think I did all of this?”
“No, I know you did all of this. Boy, you’ll do anything to make me a believer.”
His eyes narrowed and his voice dipped an octave. “You think I did all of this just to make you believe there are ghosts here?”
“Fine.” Walking to her, he grabbed her arm and led her to the camera.
“Let go of me.”
“Not until you see this.” Taking her by the shoulders, he turned her to face the monitor attached to one of the cameras. “Watch.” He pressed play.
Folding her arms across her chest, Jessie glared at the screen. He’d recorded them having sex.
“Oh my God, you taped us making out? How could you?”
“I have my cameras set on timers that begin taping on their own. I didn’t know we were going to go at it like rabbits last night. Watch.”
“You will erase those tapes,” she insisted, then grunted when he turned her face back to the monitor. “What the hell?”
She couldn’t pry her eyes away if she tried. The furniture lifted in the air, spun around wildly before they slammed in front of the fireplace and window. “Oh my god!”
“My sentiments exactly. I need to check the rest of the house.” He left her mesmerized in front of the TV.
Decadent Publishing: http://decadentpublishing.com/secrets-of-the-dead/