My Pop-Up today is an introduction to an important member of my family:
ROSIE
Our Lab came with her name, 11 years ago, the last one in a litter born to our neighbor’s dog. On a morning in January 2010, I heard a puppy crying from across the street. I asked my daughter and niece to go and see if there were any puppies left. They brought a picture of a roly-poly one named Rosie. That name meant something special to me, and it seemed she was meant for us.
My husband didn’t feel the same way, however. He said “no” to a new puppy. My youngest child cried, and I cried, and my husband gave in. We brought Rosie home and bought all the puppy things we needed. It didn’t take long to house-train her. We took her out and let her run some, but mostly, we used a leash. Since her mother and brother lived across the street, we weren’t sure if she would find her way back to them. And we live on a busy street. We lost one dog to getting hit by a car, and we didn’t want to take a chance that would end up happening to her.
Rosie belongs to all of us, but she’s my protector. She runs at the door barking ferociously when anyone knocks. If it is a stranger, she gets between the door and me. The delivery driver sets our packages on the porch, knocks, and quickly gets out of there when she jumps up at the window.
She can tell when a person is friendly, though. Some of our family members are her favorite people. She cries and carries on when they visit. We were never able to break her of jumping up. Now that she is older, it’s hard for her to do and is no longer a problem.
She does have a problem with getting into the trash. (We try to keep it out of her reach. Sometimes we forget, or she gets into the closet). It isn’t that we don’t give her enough food. We give her the amount the vet recommends, but she is overweight.
Recently Rosie developed lumps on her body that grew quickly. We took her to the vet this week, expecting to hear the worse, cancer.
They took samples from each lump and came back with diagnosis:
FATTY LUMPS
They aren’t harmful Not anything to joke about, either. But because she is overweight, the phrase made us all laugh. We needed that humor to break the tension that had built up by worrying.
We brought Rosie home, and she is her normal self. We’re thankful that the lumps aren’t serious, and we’re committed to getting her to a healthy weight.
She may be 11 years old, but she will always be my baby. She is a good companion and brings us happiness. God blessed us with her, and we thank Him, and the neighbors who gave her to us.
Today my guest is Amy Anguish, author of the newly released contemporary Christian romance, Writing Home. Amy, thank you for joining me today. Tell us a little bit about yourself.
I’m a preacher’s daughter, wife, mommy, preschool teacher, crafter, and extrovert. Not necessarily in that order. When we’re not having a pandemic, I also teach Bible class. I love fun socks, and sometimes I have a few pink streaks in my hair. I dabble in gardening during the warm months. And I read voraciously. I’m from “the South.”
What is Writing Home about?
Christiana Jones finds a pile of letters her grandparents wrote each other during the war. Since she’s unsatisfied with how her dream of living in Huntsville has turned out, and fed up with the shallowness of social media, she decides to try something new—being a pen pal. Her lifelong friend, Tina, suggests she write her cousin Jordan in Louisiana. And with each letter that goes between them, Christiana wonders if she could find a relationship as strong as her grandparents had.
What is the inspiration behind your story?
After my grandfather passed away in 2013, my grandmother who had been married to him for 66 years read his old letters every night. He’d been in the Korean war and written to her then and on several other occasions. She continued to treasure those letters (who none of us were allowed to see) until she passed away in 2018. And it got me thinking about how amazing their relationship was. And what would it be like if you had to have a relationship through letters only?
Do you have a day job? If so, how do you find time in your day to write?
I teach preschool two days a week and am a mom and babysitter the other days. My main writing times are during naps (which aren’t usually long enough anymore) and after kids are in bed in the evenings. But I’ve gotten to where I can hammer out about 2000 words an hour, so I just keep at it and it seems to be working. I do look forward to the day both my kids are in school, though.
Do you reward yourself when a book is finished? If so, what is your favorite treat?
I have a bad tendency to reward myself too much. Ha! But if I want a really special treat, here’s my go-to. I always keep some semi-sweet chocolate on hand just in case I want this:
How did you come up with the names of your hero and/or heroine?
Believe it or not, I wanted names that could go for either a boy or a girl. So, Jordan and Chris became my characters this time, and you’ll have to read my book to see why that was the deciding factor. 😉
Are you part of a writing group?
I am actually part of two writing groups. I have a couple local girls who are super sweet and we try to meet once a month. And I have two other girls who I do a YouTube channel with, one from Illinois and the other from KY. Both groups have become like sisters to me and are amazing at helping encourage, edit, and even vent.
Share your favorite excerpt from your book:
(only one?! )
Tina’s phone rang and she pressed it to her ear with a look of apology.
“We’re next.” Chris motioned to the ride.
“I’m sorry. You go ahead without me, and I’ll try to ride again with you later.” Tina waved as she walked off to finish the phone call.
Seriously? Tina just ditched her? After convincing her to come up here this weekend in the first place, too. Should she just ride alone? That didn’t sound as fun.
The carnival worker motioned to Chris as the next bucket lowered and the couple occupying it got off. Chris hesitated an extra moment, looking over her shoulder at Tina, but she seemed engrossed in her conversation. With a sigh, Chris stepped up and sat on the seat by herself.
“Wait!”
Chris looked to find where the man’s voice had come from. Someone pushed through the Ferris wheel line, trying to get to the front. He ran up to the worker and handed him some tickets. The grizzled operator glanced at her, pocketed the tickets with a shrug, and motioned the guy into the seat next to her. He locked the bar down before she had a chance to protest, and their bucket swung backwards as it started its ascent.
How dare he? Of all the nerve! To just run up and force his way past everyone in line to jump on with someone who didn’t even know him! She turned to let him have a piece of her mind—and froze.
Brown hair just long enough to tousle and curl a bit above his eyebrows. Brown eyes staring straight at her with a hopeful expression. That face that she had secretly pulled up on her phone several times a week for the last few . . . ever since his cousin sent the picture to her in the first place.
He was here.
“Jordan.”
“Hi, Christiana.” His voice was low, soft, as if he was afraid to startle her.
“You’re here.” Was her belly doing flips because of the ride or because of him?
What’s next for you as an author?
I will have a novella releasing in a Christmas collection late September—all those stories are set on the beach. And to round out the year, I will have another novel release December 7th. It’s title is No Place Like Home, and it’s about a preacher’s daughter who leaves the church when she’s grown and has to find her way back home, in more ways than one.
A number of years ago, my husband and I took our two children at the time and went to Niagara Falls. I’d seen pictures of them, but it was my first visit. The majesty of the falls, the spray of the water as we rode the boat, and the sound of rushing water all made it a memorable experience.
Right now in Michigan, we are stuck in the middle of winter. There hasn’t been much snow where I live, but with the pandemic and cold temperatures, we’re spending most of our time indoors. For me, that means a lot more reading.
I like to travel to adventurous locations between the pages of a book. That’s why I enjoyed Melony Teague’s, A Promise to Keep, so much. The characters are high school friends who meet up again at their class reunion. They embark on an adventure together and visit Niagara Falls in Canada.
Take time to pick up the book today, or download it onto Kindle. Go on an imaginary vacation with Michael and Savannah, and enjoy a heartwarming story.
About the Book:
A Promise. A High School Reunion. And a pact that proves harder to keep.
Research librarian Savannah Sanderson wants nothing more than to escape into her happily-ever-after novels with their larger-than-life fictional heroes. But a promise to her late husband has her attending her dreaded twenty-year high school reunion, drinking ghastly punch, and taking desperate measures just to keep her vow, even if she has to hide behind the décor to do it.
Once a reckless troublemaker, Michael McCann fled town after graduation. Now a professional technical rescuer, he’s back for the reunion, but on his trip down memory lane, he soon comes face to face with unresolved issues, namely Savannah.
Before the night is over, a pact between these two old friends will lead them on an adventure into uncharted emotional territory where Michael must confront his past regrets and find the courage to reveal the truth. But can Savannah fly from her sheltered nest and risk her heart on a real-life hero?
Excerpt:
Second half of Chapter 10 of A Promise to Keep. This takes place in Niagara Falls on the Canadian side:
Savannah had never seen anything so amazing or felt such a surge of power. Her squeal earned her some pointed looks from the sea of red-poncho-wearing passengers on the lower deck of their vessel, as if they could hear her over the squawking seagulls flying above them. Spray from the cascading water hung in the air. The misty colors reminded her of God’s promise after the Flood.
She turned to Michael, cupping her hand around her mouth. “Look at the rainbow!” The shuddering roar of the engine working against the surge of emerald water almost drowned out her voice.
Michael nodded. He pulled his poncho hood back over his head, then tucked the wild strands of his hair into it. She was beginning to like the longer hair on him—as long as he didn’t put it into a man bun. Drops of water slid down the few uncovered strands and dripped onto her face. She blinked; then Michael swiped the drops away with his fingertips, smoothed back a lock of hair that had stuck to her face, and tucked it into her hood. His body heat warmed her, and his presence steadied her in a way she couldn’t explain. That she didn’t want to explain.
“How much closer do we get?”
His face was inches from her ear. “As close as you like.” The look on his face earned him a swat. Was he flirting?
“I meant, how close do we get to the falls?” All this yelling made her throat hoarse. “I don’t know. I’ve never been on this boat before.”
“What?”
“I said, I’ve never been on this—”
Savannah held up her hand. “I heard you, but I’m surprised.”
Michael leaned in. Their slick ponchos stuck together. “I thought you’d like it, so…here we are.”
She grinned up at him like a kid with a chocolate-dipped ice-cream cone—with sprinkles. He was entirely too good to her. She really was going to have to think of a way to repay his kindness.
“Do you think we can get to the railing?” Any more yelling, and she was going to lose her voice for sure. She craned her neck to see around the stocky man holding a toddler in front of her.
“Give me your hand.” She put her hand in his and relished the feel of his warmth and strength.
Michael slid past and pulled her behind him. His bulk cleared the way like a snowplow in January. He politely weaseled their way to the perfect spot on the pointed bow of the boat because she’d asked him to. He knew just how to make her feel treasured. The air currents whipped at their faces as the boat strained to get closer to the raging cascade. Her cold fingers curled around the slippery railing, and she held on. Frigid waves of spray lashed the river ferry and took her breath away. The rolling waters beneath them pushed the boat around like a cork bobbing under the stream of a faucet in a bathtub. Except the steadying presence of Michael beside her allowed her to enjoy the moment and not be automatically on high alert. Maybe if she trusted God in the sameway, she’d begin to live unafraid once again.
An average tourist on the deck above them may consider this merely a thrilling ride, but to her, it was a victory. She’d done something brave. She’d put aside her fear of the boat sinking—except for that little thought concerning how many people could get to the life jackets in time if this thing sank. She’d left her overanalyzing neurotic thoughts on the bank with the onlookers. And she’d taken a risk and made a memory. One small step for her, one giant step for her self-confidence.
Michael’s reassuring hand in hers didn’t hurt things, either, nor the way he’d tucked her dripping hair behind her ear with such tenderness earlier. The vibrations from the mechanical bowels of the boat sent tremors of excitement and anxiety through her. She was coming to life again.
The sound of the boat’s engine changed as they drifted away from the falls and back toward the dock. Something had shifted deep inside her. An odd feeling of coming home when she was miles from her home—and from Point, her high school hometown. The whole way back to the riverbank, Michael’s hand in hers warmed her right to the core. She lifted a silent prayer of thanks for this man who’d donned a red plastic poncho just to bring her a few moments of happiness. Was her heavenly Father using Michael to win her back?
They followed the stream of people off the boat, removed their ponchos, and deposited them in the bin. Savannah wiped her hands on her jeans. “We should have taken a photo on deck.”
“What? And keep evidence of our drowned-rat look?”
“Are you saying I look like a drowned rodent?”
“Not at all. I was speaking for myself.” A pair of dimples appeared along with his innocent smile. “Everyone else looked like drowned rats.” His grin supported his argument. “You looked like a…a…”
“Come on. Think fast, McCann.”
“A sea nymph.”
“Impressive. That’s some fast thinking. And where have you seen a sea nymph?”
“In movies.” She almost cracked up at the smug look on his face.
“Not a book person?”
“Yeah, if they have pictures.”
“As a librarian, I insist you read a proper book.” She poked him. Keeping her serious face on was getting harder.
“As an adventurer, I insist that you live some of those experiences in your books.” His voice held a measure of teasing, but his face, inches away, had lost its smile and gained a raised eyebrow.
“You don’t get wet reading about sea nymphs.” She held his gaze. She would not back down. The adventures she’d embarked on via the pages of hundreds of books took her to places she wouldn’t have dared go in real life.
“You also don’t feel as alive as you did just now.”
“True.” Their gazes held, an unspoken understanding passing between them. What adventures lay in store for them for the rest of the week? This boat trip cost her a measure of courage—all the bravery she was likely to muster—but Michael could have other ideas. Maybe he’d be happy with the wax museum and a wine tour? As long as it posed no risk to her person, she was game. Maybe by the end of the week, she’d have him reading. What sort of book would he—
“What are you cooking up in that smart brain of yours?”
“Why, nothing at all, McCann. Nothing at all.” Nose in the air, she stalked past him, squeezing the water from her damp ponytail. After humming all the way along the walkway back to the elevator, she broke into a tone-deaf version of a song from a musical about washing men out of one’s hair when Michael caught up with her.
After the second time around, she laughed at his dejected look. “I’m kidding!”
“Don’t scare me like that, little sea nymph. Now, let’s get some dinner.”
She shook her head. “Do you ever think about anything else?”
“I’m not answering that. And since I’m buying, let’s go fancy.”
Changing the subject, was he? “How fancy?”
“Did you pack a dress?”
A million butterflies had invaded her stomach. “A girl always packs a dress.” Aside from the reunion, she hadn’t dressed up in a long time. “Maybe I’ll even add lipstick to the mix.”
Michael’s eyebrows danced. His eyes sparkled with mischief, the laugh lines around his eyes more pronounced. “You’re really living it up, huh?”
“Wait and see. Now, come on. It’s a long walk to the car.” A girl had to keep some surprises up her sleeve.
She hoped that wherever Michael had chosen for them to stay had a large tub in which she could soak before dinner. They were only halfway back to the car by the time they went by the copper-roofed buildings they’d passed earlier and her feet hurt. The roofs were once shiny copper, now tarnished to a greenish gray—they reminded her of her life. Once happy, now tarnished with sadness. Yet Michael walked by her side, at the ready to help her buff it up once again.
Gratitude filled her wounded heart. The first day of their escapade to Canada had already exceeded her expectations, but maybe the best was yet to come?
About the Author:
Melony Teague writes contemporary romance with a dash of humor, she loves to inspire and motivate others through her written words, and she believes everyone has a story to tell. Melony is a member of American Christian Fiction Writers and The Word Guild. She is the co-author of As the Ink Flows, a devotional for authors. Her fiction debut, A Promise to Keep released, Jan 21, 2020. Melony was born in South Africa and now lives in Toronto with her handsome husband, their two teenagers, and does the bidding of her two adorable cats.
Remember those quizzes that our high school teachers announced on the spur of the moment? They were called pop quizzes. They were unexpected tests over the material we were covering. I think the teachers gave pop quizzes to see if we were paying attention in class.
When I decided to add a new blog feature, I debated what to call it. Every Wednesday I’ll share a post, but the subject matter will change from week to week. You won’t know what to expect. Thus, the title, “Pop-Up.”
Don’t worry. I’m not going to quiz you on anything!
Since today is the first Wednesday Pop-Up feature, I decided to make it about something I love:
Recipes
We’re in the middle of winter here in Michigan, so I like to fix hot soups. A couple of years ago I started experimenting with recipes for “white chili.” I tried a few different ones, and they were good. Yet I wanted something simple, with just a few ingredients that I could throw together from the pantry.
Today I’m sharing a 4-ingredient recipe for white (or maybe I should say green) chili that freezes well and tastes good warmed up, as well as fresh.
White Chili
from pantry ingredients
Ingredients:
2 cans great northern or cannellini beans, drained
6 cups chicken broth or bouillon equivalent (I keep powdered bouillon in the pantry)
1 cup Herdes Verde Salsa
1 can chicken, drained
Additional add-ins (Optional):
1 can whole kernel corn, drained
Directions:
Combine all ingredients in saucepan on stove and bring to a boil, then simmer for fifteen minutes. Serve.
Can also be cooked in the Crockpot on low for four hours.
Yield: 6 servings.
Note: I usually serve the chili with cornmeal muffins. I also like to add a dollop of sour cream to my bowl.
With a 4-ingredient soup that will warm you from the inside out, you can chase away the winter chill.
Having lost her mother in a tragic drunk driving accident, Laney Spence is no stranger to grief and loss. Despite this tragedy touching her life at such a young age, Laney has maintained her belief that God brings good out of even the most difficult circumstances. For her, that good came in the form of her older brother’s best friend, Matthew Jordan. Kind and compassionate, Matthew helped her grieve—and she’s been harboring a crush on him ever since.
Years later, when tragedy shatters Matthew’s life, Laney is there for him the same way he’d been there for her all those years ago. But they’re not kids anymore. She’s a teacher with little life experience, and he’s a jaded divorce lawyer with a past he’d rather keep secret. Neither of them can ignore the attraction that blooms, though, leaving them both wondering—is attraction, history, and a shared faith in God enough to keep them together for good, or will circumstances beyond their control drive them apart? Excerpt:
Excerpt:
“That’s it!” Matthew snapped his fingers then pointed at her. “That’s what’s different. You’ve cut off all your hair.”
“I didn’t cut it all off.” Laney touched the back of it and frowned, as if he’d insulted her. “It’s just short.”
Actually thinking the style was complimentary, he tugged on the strands she’d been trying to tuck away. “Very short.”
Laughing, she knocked his hand away. “Stop.”
Scanning down to her heeled feet again, he shook his head. “You look…so different.”
A small tuck formed between her brows. “Thanks?”
He averted his gaze to the people coming and going around them. “I meant it as a compliment,” he admitted, swinging his attention back to her. “I think you’ve forgotten your nickname.” He leaned forward. “Button.” Matthew was smart enough to not mention the knobby knees and skinny arms he remembered.
“That’s because of what your mom said.”
“I remember my mom shaking her head, saying you were cute as a button because of something you’d say or do.” He also remembered she was funny and energetic, and the main reason Matthew had high-jacked his mom’s observation into a nickname. “The nickname suited you.”
Laney cocked a brow, giving him a saucy smirk. “So, you thought I was cute?”
Finding her response mildly fascinating, he laughed. “Out of everything I said, that’s the only thing you heard?”
About the author:
Penelope grew up in Tennessee, but has lived in various states and a few countries outside the United States. She holds a BS in Business/Political Science and a MS in Multinational Commerce from Boston University.
After working in the field of banking and finance, she left to invest her time with her children. Now that they are grown, she is pursuing the life of a writer. As an avid reader of fiction and a student of Biblical truth, she combines what she learns into stories of redemption.
A Furrow So Deep and A Powerful Voice are full length romances published through Anaiah Press, LLC, as well as, her Christmas novella, My Christmas Hope.
Inspirational Author 