Goofy Newfies E-Book

Ann Omasta

• Herausgeber: More Happily Ever Afters
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2021

Beschreibung

What do you get when you combine a dash of romance, a pinch of humor, a ton of fun, and many pounds of sweet and fluffy puppies?

This delightful recipe makes an enjoyable read that will warm your heart and make you smile.

Rascal, Ruby, Rowdy, Riley, Red, and Ripple (a/k/a Princess) wiggle their way into the hearts of their unsuspecting people. 

These lovable gentle giants thunder in and enhance the lives of their families in ways their humans would never have imagined to be possible.

Snippets from Goodreads reviews:
• "... Such a delightful surprise."
• "A recommended read for animal lovers."
• "The puppies totally steal the show, despite Donovan and Lily being delightful characters."
• "It's a short read but a joyous one... I loved it!"
• "A sweet, feel-good story."
• "... A most enjoyable romp."
• "I absolutely love this book!"
• "Goofy Newfies was a wonderful find!"
• "I'm so happy I read this! You, most likely, will be too."

Snuggle with these adorable Goofy Newfies and let them try to convince you that drool is cool!

THE PET SET:
1. Goofy Newfies
2. Itty Bitty Kitties
3. Funny Bunnies

Leseprobe

Goofy Newfies

The Pet Set

Ann Omasta

Contents

Free Download!

1. Prelude to a <wet> kiss

2. Rascal

3. Ruby

4. Rowdy

5. Ripple (a/k/a Princess)

6. Riley

7. Gentle Giants

8. Goofy Newfies

9. Continue the fun with Itty Bitty Kitties!

Sneak Peek of Itty Bitty Kitties

Give a Review. Best. Gift. Ever.

Let’s stay in touch!

Free Download!

Escape into the enchanting Hawaiian Islands by reading Leilani's heartwarming tale of friendship, love, and triumph after heartbreak.

Free when you join Ann Omasta’s VIP reader group. We value your privacy. Just tell us where to send your free novella. Get Aloha, Baby!

1

Prelude to a <wet> kiss

It was the perfect day for a funeral. A Hollywood producer could not have planned it better. The silvery gray sky, the light mist of rain, and the biting, blustery wind all combined to create an atmosphere of depressing dankness. Todd was probably looking down on the proceedings with an odd sense of approval. He would not have appreciated bright, cheerful sunshine invading the dismal setting of his undertaking.

This is the kind of weather that is only suited for snuggling into the couch, tucked inside a soft quilt, with one hand wrapped around a warm mug of green tea, while the other holds a great book––the kind of story that you get sucked into only to look up hours later, disappointed that your escape into its realistic and exciting world has come to an end.

I closed my eyes behind my dark sunglasses, which I wore as a layer of protection from being scrutinized by Todd's family, not because I thought there was any chance of the sun peeking out for an appearance today. If I focused hard enough, I could drown out the somber droning of the pastor and visualize myself at home, relaxing and distant from the nightmare of the past few days.

When I felt my lips begin to turn up, I snapped my attention back to the present. The last thing I needed was for Todd's mother to see me smiling at his funeral. The woman hated me enough already, without me adding any unnecessary fuel to that fire.

Todd's entire family was looking for someone to blame for the freak car accident that snuffed his life out in what seemed like his prime. I refused to be their scapegoat.

I had allowed my mind to wander during the graveside sermon, but now that I was actually paying attention, it was obvious how preposterous the whole scene was.

Todd's family was dressed to the nines in what must be the latest in funeral couture. His mother and sister were wearing expensive heels that were sinking ever deeper into the mud. They both looked like they were slowly shrinking. I pictured them trying to leave only to find that their shoes were stuck. They would have to step out of them, placing their pampered, pedicured feet onto the mucky earth. When I visualized Todd's father and brother trying to kick the heels from side to side to free them, like one would work to loosen a fence post, I almost chuckled.

I caught myself before the laugh erupted, but I must have made some sort of disruption because Todd's mother's beady eyes darted in my direction in a cold stare. The only thing that could possibly rival her sadness today was her fierce hatred of me. She had never felt like I was good enough for her son. Maybe she was right, but it was too late to worry about that now.

Attempting to ignore the eye daggers being shot at me by the matriarch of Todd's family, I shifted my weight to my left foot, angling my body towards the pastor in the process. I had to give the man props for trying, but it was obvious by the way he was exaggerating the few anecdotes he had been prompted with that he didn't know Todd at all.

When he started carrying on about how deeply Todd had loved his wife, "Lillith," I nearly snorted. It had been a very long time since Todd's feelings toward me had been anything near what one would call love––tolerance perhaps, but not love. The two of us had been little more than roommates for the last several years. Whatever love had once existed between us was long gone...replaced by mutual indifference.

The fact that the reverend repeatedly referred to me as "Lillith" let me know that either Todd's sister or his mother had filled the man in on the details of Todd's life. They both knew that I despised being called by my full given name, so making sure the obituary and graveside sermon featured it prominently was probably their seemingly innocent way to get one last dig in at me before I was officially free from their family.

I tried not to let their petty antics bother me, but couldn't help but seethe a little bit over it. The negative emotion felt right on this day when I should have been feeling bereft, sad, and lonely.

At least my bubbling anger was a somewhat appropriate feeling. The hint of happiness at seeing Todd's mother's face screw up like she just ate a super sour lemonball as the pastor regaled the gathered mourners with tales of Todd's loving, strong, and committed marriage was not right, but I wasn't able to prevent it from surfacing. The reverend must have improvised this section of his speech because it clearly hadn't been part of her plan.

I did my best to keep the gloat from showing on my face by focusing on my immediate guilt about feeling it––especially today, of all days. What is wrong with me?

My eyes, hidden behind the dark sunglasses, roamed around to each of the tear-streaked, grief-stricken faces surrounding the giant hole my husband's ornate casket was being lowered into. I knew I should feel what the others felt. I wanted to feel what they felt. I waited for the desperation, sadness, anger, bitterness, disbelief, or other appropriate mourning reactions to kick in, but they didn't.

As the first bits of dirt were sprinkled onto the box where my husband's body was being interred, the pastor grimly said the famous funeral line, "Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust," and all I could manage to feel was immense and overwhelming relief.

2

Rascal

I am not a monster. I am not even a bad person. Well, I don't want to be one, anyway. Does that count for anything? I have been feeling like a miserable excuse for a human being, though. What kind of woman doesn't grieve the loss of her husband? Shouldn't I feel something other than relief over his death?

My hope is that the fact that I wanted to feel more than I did is somewhat redemptive, but I'm not sure how many karma points that can carry––surely not the entire load of my massive guilt.

I was startled when my phone began blaring the song, "I Wanna Be Rich." The song is a throwback from the late eighties, but it seemed so appropriate for the ring tone for my literary agent that I couldn't resist downloading it. I don't think I've ever mentioned June's incoming call tune to her, but I am confident that she would approve.

Imagining her scratchy voice saying, "Don't we all, Doll?" had me smiling as I ran to answer the phone for the first time in several days. The flurry of sympathy and 'Just wanted to check in on how you are doing' calls had steadily dwindled to zero over the past few weeks.

"How you doin', Doll?" June's pack-a-day cigarette habit made her already-manly voice sound like she gargled with sandpaper.

"I'm okay," I answered her honestly.

My natural introversion and job as a freelance writer were the tenants of a rather lonely existence. I hadn't realized how much I would miss the basic interaction Todd and I had on a day-to-day basis.

Now, my social life was limited to going to the grocery store and attempting to talk to Todd's hateful cat, Morty. As if sensing that I might be thinking about him, the orange tabby narrowed his green eyes in my direction. I'm pretty sure that if he could talk, he would have said, "Don't talk to me. Don't look at me. Don't even think about me!"

He seemed to be willing to allow me to scoop his kitty litter and fill his food bowl, but he didn't care for our relationship boundaries to extend beyond that. Perhaps he blames me for Todd's absence. He loved Todd. I guess that miserable cat is having more of an appropriate reaction to Todd no longer being here than I am. Sigh.

I must have sighed aloud because June yelled in my ear, "Stop moping around, Doll. I have some fantabulous news for you!"