Margaret Ethridge is taking over the blog today to talk about Love and Chickens????
Margaret Ethridge lives in Arkansas with a sweet-talking Southern gentleman who claims to be her lawfully-wedded husband. She is the (not-so-wicked-but-she-has-her-moments) step-mother to their two children, the adoring mistress of three spoiled dogs, the food purveyor to eleven hungry goldfish, and the comic foil for one rather impertinent house rabbit who thinks he rules the roost.
When she isn’t tapping away at her keyboard, Margaret engages in an epic battle against her never-ending laundry hampers, cajoles the flowers in her yard, sings into her hairbrush, and holds entire conversations speaking in movie quotes.
“Te amo”
“Je t’aime”
“Ich liebe dich”
“I brought you a Route 44 Diet Coke from the Sonic.”
There are hundreds of ways to say “I love you”, but if you’re not paying attention they might get lost in translation. Learning to speak each other’s language is one of the most intriguing aspects of falling in love, and the things we don’t say speak even louder than ardent declarations. It took a long time to become fluent in my husband’s language of love.
You see, like the characters in my latest novel, Spring Chickens, he’s a southern man and I’m a Yankee girl. Technically, we both speak English, but they are radically different dialects. When the air turns cool and damp, I may say, “It’s going to rain”, but my sweet talking southern man would tell you, “It’s fixin’ to come a storm.” When we go shopping, he pushes a ‘buggy’, but I use a ‘cart’ to carry my groceries.
Like any dedicated couple, we say the words every day, but they don’t always come out in the form of “I love you.” Most days they go something like this:
“I mailed your package.”
“Thank you. I thought I’d make that pasta thing you liked for dinner tonight. That sound good?”
“Great. I’m gonna pull the washer out. Your pink socks fell off the pile, and I think I saw you Steak ‘n Shake shirt back there.”
“I’ve been looking for that shirt!”
“I figured there was a reason you were rooting through my drawers.”
“You love it when I root around in your drawers.”
“I do.”
“I do. too.”
In Spring Chickens, Bram Hatchett declares his intentions by giving Lynne Prescott a pair of baby chicks. Lynne reciprocates by making him pot roast. I can’t think of a better way of saying, “I’m falling for you.”
What about you? How do you and your loved one say I love you?
Spring Chickens
You don’t have to be a spring chicken to fall in love.
The residents of Heartsfield, Arkansas think Lynne Prescott has it all. The wealthy suburban divorcee captures everyone’s attention when she blows into town to dispose of the family farm. But her nosy new neighbors don’t know she ran away from home.
Bram Hatchett’s interest in buying the land adjoining his farm is yesterday’s news, but the handsome widower’s inability to contain his attraction to the land’s beautiful owner quickly becomes fodder for the local gossip mill.
A rickety old porch and a disturbing decrease in the poultry population bring them together—but with wagging tongues and grown children against them, Lynne’s inclination toward flight comes smack against Bram’s aversion to fight. Can they whittle away the secrets of the past in order to scratch out a future together?
Excerpt:
The photograph of her aunt with his uncle served as an easy out.
Lynne laughed and shook her head. “I found something I wanted to show you.” She offered it to him with a sheepish smile.
Bram took the snapshot, shooting her a wary glance before lowering his eyes. The glimmer of a smile twitched his lips then blossomed. “This is them,” he said in a soft, reverent tone.
“I know. Look at how happy they were.” He squinted and stretched his arm, leaning back until he could focus. “Wanna borrow my glasses?” she asked, waving the drugstore readers in his direction. His glare might have leveled a lesser woman, but she figured she’d already shown him her worst. She flashed her biggest grin. “Need longer arms? Want me to hold it over here?”
He snatched the glasses from her hand and slipped them onto the end of his nose. “Hell to get old,” he grumbled, moving the photo closer until he found the right spot.
She leaned against the doorframe. “Tell me about it.”
Bram whipped the glasses from his face and handed them back to her with the photograph. “I usually don’t need them. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”
“Chirping keep you awake?” she asked with a wry smile.
He chuckled and shook his head. “I don’t keep my chickens in the kitchen.”
“Smart man.”
Buy link: http://www.thewildrosepress.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=195&products_id=4835
Want to learn more about Margaret? Check here out here:
I absolutely adored Spring Chickens! You captured the true Southern charm through your characters and the setting perfectly. This is how I say I love you to my one and only: "When you stick to the roof of my mouth, you make me feel really good inside." Oh, my lover is peanut butter.
Great post. My version of "I love you" is "here's your Tim Horton's coffee" which is being placed on my nightstand as I slowly wake up on Saturday morning. Oh yes, we are a romantic couple for sure.
Michelle, nothing says 'I love you' better than a dose of caffeine in bed! Julie – you are a nut. A peanut. 🙂
O this sounds like fun! And I really do like books with older heroes/heroines. Second chance at love or not.
Thanks, Aurian! I hope you'll give it a shot!
Spring Chickens sounds good. I am adding it to my TBR =)
Thank you, Didi!
You too with the movie quotes, Margaret! My husband constantly throws out random movie quotes. It's a major talent.
Spring Chickens sounds too adorable to pass up. Congratulations on your release!! And your love language is adorable.
Loved the post! Spring Chickens sounds like an interesting book and I'll have to add it to my tbr.
Thanks, Megan and Maria! 🙂