VIVA PANN VEGAS
TAGLINE
Getting plastered at a wedding is the sign a
good time has been had, but not when it’s the bride!
BLURB
The fun
and games continue as Pann Haggerty travels around America with her ‘average’
Joe on their way to Las Vegas. This
time, Joe thinks he’s the one in charge, and able to handle his beloved quirky
English rose.
Apparently
not. Surprises, secrets and wedding
bells are in store. Has Pann given Joe
the answer to his big question? Read on in the second MisAdventure of Pann
Haggerty.
Laugh at
Pann’s antics, thrill to the romance, indulge in copious mugs of tea and try
out the delicious recipes! Above all…enjoy.
EXCERPT ONE
“You know, Pann, this hand would look so much nicer with…”
“Don’t go down that route, Joe,” Pann scolded him. “I said I
would give you an answer when I knew what it was. Why, are you feeling insecure,
Joe?”
The waitress came back, pouring Joe his thick, syrup-like
coffee and placing a tall frosted glass of pink milkshake, topped with whipped
cream and a fresh strawberry, on the table.
Pann chuckled. What was this, a drink or dessert?
“Yes, I am,” Joe replied eventually, after taking a sip from
his mug. “You are the only woman I’ve asked to marry me, and you won’t give me
a definite yes or no. It feels like I’m being led around by the short and
curlies.”
“Joe,” Pann admonished through gritted teeth. He sounded
rather like her, and one certainly did not mention pubic hair in a dining
establishment.
“Well what do you expect, Pann? I love you, and you say you
love me. I can’t understand why you are dragging this on.”
“Dragging this on?” Her lips thinned with annoyance. “Joel. We
are at a diner surrounded by others eating. This isn’t really the place to have
this conversation.” She was trying to no avail to keep her voice calm.
“Shall we go back to the van and talk there?” Joe suggested. “I’ll
make tea?”
“Sounds better than shivering in the sunshine, I guess.”
As they walked toward the van, Joe placed his arm around her
shoulders. Instinctively she snuggled into his warmth, breathing in his
fragrant masculine scent. Pann placed
her arm around his waist, and on impulse, her hand covered his jean clad
bottom. As she squeezed it, Pann smiled
an impish grin.
“Wrong pocket, Pann.”
“I beg your pardon?” She tilted her head back to look at Joe.
“If you are after my wallet, it’s in the other pocket,” Joe
quipped.
EXCERPT TWO
Pandora Haggerty, sorry…Harper sat in the back of the
ambulance in a wheelchair all forlorn and feeling decidedly sorry for herself. Her
plastered right leg was elevated, and despite Joe’s hand resting on hers
comforting her, Pann’s spirits were low. She was jostled several times, wincing
as the vehicle rode over several mountains in the road. Perhaps the pain
medication was wearing off. Avoiding looking out the window, Pann kept her gaze
on Joe’s steadfast one and the gleaming rings of gold that adorned her left
hand. Beside her on the floor lay several packages, and from what she could
make out, there was a Zimmer frame ready to be constructed.
“A zimmer frame, my arse,” Pann grumbled.
“What was that, darlin’?”
“Just talking out loud,” she murmured.
“Are you in any pain, honey?”
Pann shook her head. “Actually I’m starting to feel like a
total prat,” she told him bluntly. “I cannot believe I managed to break my
sodding ankle, and now I’m totally reliant on someone else to help me do
everything. And I am not using a
sodding Zimmer frame. What do they think I am, an elderly geriatric?” Then,
turning her head…she noticed a chair behind her.
“That’s not a commode is it?” She asked incredulously in a
high squeak. Joe nodded.
“You have to be taking the royal piss,” she exclaimed.
“No, that’s what the commode is for. So that you can—” Joe’s
voice broke off.
“No chuffing way am I using a commode.”
“The doctor said you had to stay off that leg. This way you
can use the toilet by simply lifting yourself from one chair to another,” he
said soothingly.
Pann’s temper finally got the better of her. Humiliation,
frustration and that nagging ache from her leg took over her usually sane-ish
temperament. She squeezed Joe’s hand digging her nails in, almost breaking the
skin. At this point, she really didn’t care if she hurt him or not. She was
hurting. Why couldn’t he sympathize? It really wasn’t fair.
Pann sat complacently as Joe wheeled her into the now widened
doorway of their motorhome. A strange smell assailed her nostrils. What on
earth…could she smell?
“There’s a cat in here,” Pann announced, her eyes darting
around the kitchen area. It had been widened for accessibility. As Joe closed
the door, she caught a glimpse of a tray.
“What makes you think that?” Joe murmured, putting the brake
on. He busied himself by putting the kettle on and preparing a drink for them.
“The litter tray behind me, and the two bowls on a mat just
over there,” Pann pointed out. “You do know I still have a cat back in England,
even if it is living with Mum now.” She sniffed again, wafting her hand in
front of her nose. Several pots of fragrant violets lined the middle of the
dining table. She hoped Joe had secured them with Velcro strips.
“Interesting and beautiful flowers, but no matter how many pots
of violets you use, there is no cure for the niff of a farting feline,” she
told him with a grin, using as many English terms as she could fit in. It was
ridiculous, but in a way Joe had diffused her temper by diverting her attention
onto something else. “So where is it?”
Joe put two steaming mugs on the table, fetched a plate of
digestive biscuits and sat down next to her on the seat.
“Look up,” he suggested.
Pann’s head tilted back. On what had been her bed, two white
fluffy paws and a nose with two black splotches were all she could see. All
those awful feel sorry for herself feelings disappeared. Joe handed her the tea
mug.
“So how did we end up with whats-his-face up there?”
“I have no idea. I picked up the van yesterday after the
refit, and well, there he was,” Joe explained.
“He?”
Joe nodded. “I took him to the vet with every intention of
handing him to a rescue center, but, I don’t know. There was something about
him. It turns out he is a pedigree Ragdoll.”
Pann melted. “The ones that go limp in your arms. They are so
soft and fluffy…Oh, Joe. Look at the splotches on his cute little nosey. Bloody
hell. Is that the cat?” Her nose wrinkled. “Oh God, that’s foul,” she breathed.
“There is nothing wrong with that cat’s stomach. Apparently,
some cats are prone to gas and this is one of them I’m afraid.” Joe chuckled. “So
are we gonna keep him? I had him vaccinated, micro chipped and everything.”
“What have you called him?”
“I thought I’d let you name him,” Joe replied with a smile. “It’s
taken you out of your bad mood hasn’t it?”
“Yes, you rat, it has.” Pann couldn’t take her eyes off the
two fluffy paws and now emerging face over the edge of what had been her bed. “I’m
still not using that commode, you know.”
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AUTHOR BIOGRAPHY
Amanda Ward lives in Bedfordshire, England
with her husband, three children and two insane cats. The expression ‘What you
see is what you get’, sums her up perfectly.
She is the author of the novel Without Saying A Word with Books To Go Now and
The MisAdventures of Pann Haggerty with Secret Cravings Publishing. She is a member of the Romance Novelists
Association (RNA). There is always some
moment waiting around the corner to be written into a novel.
Her interests include a passion for history and the royal families of Europe,
romance novels, cooking, and science fiction including Doctor Who. Of
course not forgetting the great and wonderful Doris Day musicals and English
costume dramas.
A perfect afternoon for Amanda would be a pot of tea, plenty of biscuits with a
Doris Day film on the telly. Shared with great friends and her amazingly
tolerant mother in law.
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