I’m delighted to welcome fellow Liberty States Fiction Writers member Chris Redding here today.
In my latest romantic comedy, Along Came Pauly, I deal with the idea of shelter dogs always being adoptable.
I have a dog. He’s on the front cover. Yep, that’s mine and no he isn’t named Spike like in the book. No, I’m not telling you his name. You can guess if you want.
We didn’t adopt him from a shelter. We tried. That was one of my stipulations about getting a dog. I wanted to save one from a shelter. I had specific needs. I wanted a male dog and I wanted a lab type. I also didn’t want any Pit Bull mixes. Nothing against that type of dog, I just think you need to be a strong dog owner to handle some of them. Were my wants easy to find?
I think I more easily could have gotten an assault rifle and I live in NJ with strict gun control.
Let me start by saying that we put in applications with every shelter and rescue organization in the county. One wanted references. They talked to my friends about how good a dog owner I was going to be. No problem.
Each time we picked a dog, it was adopted by someone else. I never found out what made them more attractive than we were.
One person came out to look at our property. We have an invisible fence around about 1.5 acres. The dog in question was a lab. She told me that was too much land for a lab? Huh? Too much land? Is there such thing for a lab?
Then we finally found a dog. A shepherd mix. We did all the paperwork. The dog arrived and was my constant companion. Then he snapped at my younger son. My son wasn’t even doing anything. Turns out, the dog didn’t like men. That dog went back to the foster mom.
So we got a dog from another means. A mutt. Part lab, part hound from what we can figure. And he’s been in our hearts and home ever since.
And now on the cover of my book.
He’s negotiating for some of the royalties. :).
A Giveaway! I’ll give a $10 Amazon Gift Card to whomever can guess my dog’s name. Hint: It has something to do with his color.
A contemporary romance about a dog that brings two people together who don’t want to be. She’s a vegetarian veterinarian who needs cash for a no-kill shelter. He’s the heir to a hot dog fortune who must give away money before he gains his inheritance. Sounds like a perfect match. It isn’t.
She didn’t have time to soothe his ego. If he couldn’t understand about animal emergencies than she couldn’t explain it to him.
Not now. Not ever.
Running down the steps in front of the hotel, she stumbled. When she landed upright, the heel of one shoe broke. “Damn. Cheap shoes.” She pulled them off, standing in her stockinged feet.
She gave the valet her ticket then waited for her car. A light drizzle, dropping the temperature. She shivered hoping the valet hadn’t parked too her car far away from her.
After what seemed like an eternity, the young man pulled up. She shook his hand, slipping him some bills for his trouble. At least she tried. She ended up dropping the bills. He reached for the money the same time she did. Her shoulder hit him in the eye.
The parking guy managed to stay on his feet. Daria landed on her butt in a puddle. Another dress ruined. “How about I let you get the money?”
“Can I help you up?”
“Maybe you better not.”
Bio: Chris Redding lives in New Jersey with her husband, two sons, one dog and three rabbits. She graduated from Penn State with a degree in journalism. When she isn’t writing, she works for her local hospital. Her books are filled with romance, suspense and thrills.
You can find Chris at:
You can find Along Came Pauly at: