Kindle Edition, 315 pages - Published December 1st 2013
Seventeen years of loving is a hard habit to break…
Meryl thought things couldn’t get any worse. She’s caught her husband in bed with the neighbor. She just found out she’s broke. Then her outrageous mother, Faye wants to be a grandmother and has money to loan so it’s hard to say no. But what Meryl doesn’t know is that Faye, a former stripper and born again Christian, plans on opening an exotic dance and women's fitness studio in Meryl’s affluent suburban community.
When Meryl’s book club gets roped into promoting the studio by dancing at a charity tea, they discover that their laced up ‘burb isn’t as proper as they think. As her husband fights to win her back, Meryl grows increasingly attracted to a handsome sheriff, recovering from his own loss. As a crisis looms, Meryl must face her demons from the past. But first she has to get through Christmas.
Funny, sad and sweet, Divine Moves reveals the forces that derail our lives and the sometimes divine intervention that keeps us on track.
It was the day of New Year’s Eve and Ethan had been stood up. His fury channeled itself into a laser of loathing towards Sensitive Allen, their therapist, sitting across from him, sipping a murky green concoction. Allen was sweating lightly under his thin cashmere v-neck, as though he’d hurriedly showered after a long cleansing run.
“And how did Meryl respond to the letter?” asked Allen.
Central to Ethan’s rage, was the knowledge that Allen was the only person outside the family privy to the lowest moment of his life. He probably coached gay, orphaned, refugees in his spare time, telling them he honored their feelings. “She didn’t. The kids seemed to like them, although it’s hard to tell.” He went back to his hug with Nathalie, a shiny moment amidst the gloom.
Thankfully Meryl burst through the door, twenty minutes late, smelling heavily of perfume. She wore a black smock with a white Lancôme logo stitched beneath a tiny white rose. “Sorry I’m late,” she said, sinking into a leather chair with groan.
“Ahhh, my feet.”
Ethan was relieved and happy that she’d showed. Her beauty wasn’t diminished by the utilitarian uniform or frazzled manner.
She was here.
Allen took another sip of his compost smoothie. “Ethan was telling me that he moved in with his parents.”
Meryl struggled out of the smock, glaring at Ethan. “You must be so proud.”
“Again with the sarcasm,” Ethan said. “It’s what you asked for. Did you read my letter?”
“No, Meryl snapped. “I ripped it up. How are the unsupportive hoarders of wealth? Make sure Betsy tells all her golf cronies that her daughter-in-law is at the Lancôme counter for 3 whole days. If I move enough La Vie Est Belle perfume, I just might have a chance at a permanent position. I’m selling Life is Beautiful. Isn’t it ironic?” She raised an eyebrow at Ethan. Their old joke was that Alanis Morissette’s smash hit “Isn’t it Ironic?” should have been titled “Isn’t it a Total Bummer?” Alanis, like most people, misunderstood irony.
“It just sounds bitter to me,” said Ethan.
“Enough name calling,” said Allen. “This stops now.”
“I’m fine with the name calling,” said Meryl. “What people forget about name calling is that it’s therapeutic. Ethan, besides sarcastic and bitter, what else would you like to call me?”
I've been hooked on writing since 4th grade when my story of an alley cat was read in class as an example of a good scene setting. I just about fell off the chair in utter joy. I was a total goner when a film I'd written while at the American Film Institute was screened and people laughed.
At the right places!
At Smith College I gave my professor a heart attack when I compared Tess of the D'Urbervilles, the book, to the movie.
I write every day from 10-2 although while editing, it's much longer. I live in SeattleWashington with my family and my shelter dog who is my workout partner. I love to interact with readers.