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.
“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.
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.
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.”
SECRET CRAVINGS PUBLISHING
BARNES & NOBLE
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
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.
Find out more about Amanda and her manic life at www.amandajward.weebly.com