When it comes to relationships, I have really bad luck. Each time I meet a guy, I cross my fingers and hope he is at least halfway normal. I’m so tired of dealing with crybabies and freak shows that I could just scream. At this point, I’m so close to just joining a convent, taking the vow of chastity, and calling it quits with men entirely. Well, I probably don’t need to go to that extreme... I mean who am I kidding? There's no way I could be a nun. But becoming an old crotchety lady with 20 cats lurking around? Now THAT is a definite possibility. That is until I see him, my brown-eyed stallion man, swooping in to save me from an unforeseen wrinkly old balls attack, and then... he is gone. Well, not gone completely, because I can’t stop fantasizing about him. I fantasize about him so much that when I finally do see him again, I make a complete and total ass of myself. Several times in fact. How I do not drop dead of embarrassment right then and there is beyond me. So, remember I said I have really bad luck? Well, sit back, grab a glass of wine or your favorite mixed drink, and let me tell you how it all started, and how it all ends... ~ Renaming my past boyfriends has always been a favorite pastime of ours. Why not give them a more fitting name, because who really needs to remember the guy’s real name? You want a name to remind you why it didn’t work, so at three in the morning on a drunken, horny night you don’t call him. Thinking you made a mistake. In this case, The Huffer left no room for regret. ~ "So are we going to talk about the fact that your jeans have ripped apart like a hooker's legs on a Friday night?" he asks and starts laughing ~ "I could go for a Sinful 7, but only if you will share it with me." I say as I look up from the menu to Bash "I think I could be sinful with you" he responds seductively. Bash gives me a look that I haven't seen yet. I think it is a lets go back to your apartment and get sinful look. I look back at the bartender and say "One Sinful 7 please. Togo!"

Finding myself a widow at thirty-eight wasn’t in my plans. Although if I think about it, my whole life was not part of my plan. It all started when I found out I was pregnant shortly after graduating high school. After we had Bryna, Jack and I got married. Neither of us was able to follow our dreams of college. Nevertheless, all the missed plans and adventures did not matter because we were happy. We did not for one minute regret missing out on the things we would have liked to have done when we were younger. Before Jack died, he had a plan to change all that. Unfortunately, he was taken from me before he could reveal his plans for our twentieth wedding anniversary adventure. However, thanks to his lifelong friendship with Flynn, Jack's plan was not lost. Jack may not be able to join me on this adventure, but with the help of my friends, I learn what it really means to seize the day.